#slather

[drinkinboilingcoffee]

[innalheid]

#polls #poll #veggies #i just gotta know #personally i go for tomatoes first then cucumber #then celeray. the rest i could take or leave #peppers are p good tho #the rest i gotta. slather in dip #theyre not wet enough for me

[22ratonthestreet]

the passangerette

#sorry. #also benson w/o the stache is like an angel w/o their wings .. #whatever. hi everyone. #the pipeline is real i still gotta track down which passengerposter specifically slathered that movie all over my dash fooling me into thi #thinking it was a big big presence on tumblr and . akhem (looks around the room) well #the passenger #benson the passenger #randy bradley #22ratonthestreet #dima's silly little scribbles #is his tag genuinely 'benson the passenger' ... good god

[floramau]

Y si los muertos aman, después de muertos amarnos más

#fear and hunger #fear and hunger termina #marcoh #kida tanaka #fear and hunger marcoh #fear and hunger tanaka #how heavy do i slather on the tags? #ERM... idk. I'm really average about both of them #love them a normal amount #totally dont think about them a lot or something. that's something i don't do

[inkykeiji]

⋆₊˚⊹♡ touya-nii + his nasty habit of sneaking into your bedroom

character: todoroki touya | dabi warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudocest, noncon, a slight bit of degradation, implied size difference words: 1.2k

he’s always careful when he starts. careful when he creeps into your room in the middle of the night, sock clad feet quiet against the hardwood; careful to keep the doorhandles latch from catching on the strike plate as he closes it behind him; careful not to wake you as he slinks into your frilly little bed, knocking stuffed animals and extra pillows onto the floor, as he worms his way beneath your pink-piped comforter and slithers his hand between your silky thighs—ah, good girl, you’re not wearing those pesky sleep shorts, just like he told you not to (good little sisters only wear panties to bed; and sometimes, they don’t even wear those, he had informed you)—and then wiggles his fingers under your lacy undies.

that’s when he stops being careful. 

because he loves that sharp gasp of surprise, that sheer unadulterated bolt that courses through your body—shock in the purest, prettiest form—that jolts you from your blissful slumber almost violently; skin shuddering, eyes snapping open, when he shoves two dirty fingers into your ill-prepped cunt. 

it’s his favourite sound in the world, he swears it is, swears he would bottle it up and keep it close to his heart if he could, swears he would wear it around his neck like the cutest, daintiest little noose, tethering him to you. 

but this is the next best thing, he supposes. 

your eyes slip shut again, so tightly they crinkle the corners and furrow your brow, and a whine of his name spills from your lips; first in frustration, then again all wispy and dumb when he curls his knuckles against that plush spot buried deep inside of you—that spot he knows so well, that spot he discovered, then claimed as his own. 

yeah, not so irritated now, are ya, y’little brat. 

no, you’re not. you’re sighing out his name in time with the pumps of his fingers, all melty and stupid and oh-so-cute, knotted with his honorific and seeping into your lace-trimmed pillows in little threads of drool. you’re grinding your ass back against his hard cock as you pathetically hump his palm, indulging him as his hips rut into your plush flesh, pre-cum steadily leaking through his thin pyjama pants, staining plaid in dark wet patches.

“touya-nii,” you whimper, back arching a little, nipples peaked through the thin cotton of your camisole. “stop, stop.” 

this is the routine almost every time, practiced and perfected through night after night of rehearsals, and you play your part flawlessly; effortless and enticing and full of emphasis, because you know he gets off on it—the no!s and wait!s and don’t!s, sometimes spit from your lips, sometimes dribbling out the corner of your mouth, only heightening the whole sordid affair.

because you’re just as fucking sick as your big brother is. 

he can’t stop, don’t you know?

it’s all your fault, he’s telling you, voice caught somewhere between accusatory and mocking. if you weren’t such a slutty little tease, nii-chan wouldn’t have to do this. 

but it’s all just a game; he knows you love it just as much as he does, knows you’re just as depraved as he is, because your actions don’t match your words, you bad girl, the rolling of your hips encouraging the rocking of his own, one of your free hands threading itself over his and guiding it to your breast, bony knuckles pressing into a soft palm as his fingers flex around supple flesh.

if you didn’t love it, if you didn’t want it, then why would you prance around the house in those short, short little dresses? the ones that fan out when you twirl to your music in the living room or ride up when you bend over while cooking in the kitchen, gifting anyone within the immediate vicinity (your vile siblings and their prying eyes) a coveted glimpse of the silk and lace clinging delicately to your cheeks; the ones that are an inch or two too short to be considered wholly decent, and the ones Daddy has repeatedly told you to stop wearing around your big brothers—especially the eldest. 

“m’sorry, touya-nii, m’sorry, m’sorry.”

no, you’re not, but that’s okay. he isn’t, either. 

at least you have each other.

your other hand snakes between your tensing thighs, cupping his own, little fingers layering larger ones as they try to speed up his motions, push his digits deeper, fuck you harder, give you more. 

these trysts never last long enough, though; no matter how hard he tries to lengthen them, to savour them, you’re both too eager, too hungry for one another, cumming too quickly in the dead of night as your bodies tremble together, as names shatter on tongues in sharp whispers and limbs seize and tangle and fuse into one.

it’s always so fucking messy, your cunt clenching around your conjoined fingers, slick dribbling down his knuckles in thick dollops to pool in his hand, to settle in the lines of his palm and streak his inner wrist in pretty shimmering streams.

it’s always so fucking messy, his grunts hot and humid against the nape of your neck, forehead pressed to the crown of your head as his cock throbs, filling flannel with copious amounts of burning, sticky cum—so much it seeps through the material to soak your scrunched panties, so much it dries in a hard glaze, welding lace to your ass. 

you don’t ever dare to wash it off, clean it away, eradicate the evidence, instead allowing each other’s pleasure to stain your skins, wearing it like a mark of honour, a claim of ownership, barely visible when it dries into something firm and translucent, but there nonetheless. 

his fingertips continue to flutter against that swollen spot until ripples of overstimulation are shuddering through your flesh, until your little hand is wreathing around his syrupy wrist and nails are biting into his flesh and tugging, tears beginning to bead your lashes.

only then does he chuckle and pull his hand free, knuckles hooking in an attempt to scrape your walls, a heavy coat of your arousal glistening on his fingers. 

“you cum so fucking much for your big brother,” he growls in your ear, lips wet against the cartilage, voice tapering off into a whine. “look at how wet you get for me.” 

two of his fingers flatten against your cheek and then swipe, slow and hard and thorough, smearing a thick film of your slick across your face, from the tip of your temple to the corner of your mouth, back and forth and back and forth until it’s been rubbed into your skin. 

callused fingertips push past your parted lips, weighing down on your tongue and cramming themselves into your throat, forcing you to taste yourself—to taste him, painted in you; spicy nicotine and heady salt.

“you’re fucking disgusting,” he pants out, but his pupils are gaping, watching as your gorge yourself on your big brother’s flesh, lips puckering and cheeks hollowing as your tongue curls around his knuckles and tries to siphon him further down your throat. 

a whine splinters in his chest as he pulls his extremities free from your voracious grip, slathered in spit, viscous cords strung between his knuckles as he spreads them apart. 

“yeah, you’re real fucking sick, y’know that?” 

“you made me like this, nii-chan,” you breathe out dreamily, already drifting back into sleep’s welcoming embrace, body going lax in his arms and snuggling back against his chest. 

yeah, he fucking did. 

and neither of you would have it any other way. 

#dabi smut #dabi x reader #dabi x you #todoroki touya smut #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya x you #wrote this real quick before bed last night #after my boyfriend had slathered my own slick all over my face hehehe #so thank u for inspiring this lil piece sir #inky.touya #inky.dabi #tw:noncon #tw:pseudocest

[thebibliosphere]

So, I'm one of those weirdos who finds heat more beneficial for relieving migraine pain than ice, and I've just realized I was in so much pain yesterday that I burned myself and didn't notice.

Thought I still had a migraine and that's why my forehead hurt. Nope. It's a burn from where I was grinding the heat pack into my skull to try and relieve the pain. My fingertips are burned, too.

But god forbid the pain clinic prescribe me anything stronger than Tylenol and Asprin because, apparently, this is a better scenario than giving me opioids, aka, the only pain relief that actually works for me.

Fucksake.

#brb slathering myself in aloe vera #fucksake #chronic health tag #no one tell me about migraine abortives #none of them work for me #neither do the preventatives #I'm so tired

[akakris10]

#arknights #deepcolor arknights #akadraws #friend said to slather her in paint so i went normal mode. as one does #i shouldve added more paint in hindsight... next time perhaps

[buwheal]

Man although I can't send this and have Spamton see the image (cuz it would be text instead) I'll send it to you and you can give me your opinion about it.

What do you think...

...about...

...snowy Spamton?

IT SNOWED YESTERDAY YESS!!!

(this was on a car btw, which made it even better)

#(EXTREMELY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER NOISE) it has never said you couldnt send him images btw :-P so congrats he does get to see!!! #ive been meaning to answer this since like.. forever... this is from january 21st.... oops!!! I wasnt sure how to make him react #-to images then. #but i figured it out now lol. At least for this one.. sigh /nsrs #this image is so funny to me lmao /pos thank you so much i love it def one of my fav asks X-) Its so sweet <33 #[you've got mail!] #spamton #spamton g spamton #I hope his hair is greasy enough because MAN its slathered in there (wretch /j) i was struggling with his hair perspective tbh #deltarune #deltarune spamton #deltarune chapter 2 #spamton fanart #kingsis beat me to the images grrrr /J /nsrs I was saving them for something specific i wanted to do so thats why #youll see

[show-tunes]

You know what? Fuck you *blingee’s your scrybes*

Bonus Leshy jumpscare where I was trying to learn how to use the fill tool

#i am working on the pride asks! i just had these on the backlog #i started these for fun but i invested way too much time and thought into these things to not expose them to the world #i love slathering these old people in glitter and bright colors #leshy #grimora #p03 #magnificus #inscryption

[skinnylorax]

let’s be real jean is horrifically pale from the lack of sunlight during his time with the ravens so he definitely got sunburnt rather than tan in the california sun

#bro is a tomato #cat probably slathered him in sunscreen after his first full day in the sun #all for the game #aftg #jean moreau #jean yves moreau #the sunshine court #tsc #aftg tsc #the trojans

[bigbigtruck]

you’re laughing. i was born without a face and you’re laughing

#shitpost #if i slather on even MORE makeup will i actually look like a person when in camera #or shall i forever be slenderman #at age 36 i was born without a face #makeup

[steakout-05]

i found a gif i made in paint.net around a year ago that i used for an old carrd and i think you should see it

it's a parody of one of those old scam ads you'd see on sketchy third party news sites!! i like how ominous "LEARN THE TRUTH NOW" sounds in the context of Spamton. it just sounds very... off even for one of these ads. it's a little too sketchy.

#spamton #deltarune #parody #what if pipis is the truth to how Spamton's skin is so pale and puppet like #it's his skincare routine #he cracks one open like an egg and slathers all over his face like it's aloe vera #and when you touch him it feels slimy #cursed thought of the day

[corruptpixel]

biblically accurate pattern time babeyy

#*me attempting to slather my watermark over the entire work because i don't want the redbubblians to steal it #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #rise tmnt #long snoot donnie #rise mikey #rise michelangelo #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt michelangelo #tmnt mikey #tmnt michelangelo #rise donnie #rise donatello #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #tmnt donnie #tmnt donatello #rise raph #rise raphiel #rottmnt raph #rottmnt raphiel #tmnt raph #tmnt raphiel

[vasira96]

not my normal art but i had to draw some colorful shinies and i love them, they make my brain go brrrrrrrr and i thought some of y’all might enjoy them too

#vasira arts #misc #slathering these bubbles all over my socials

[limplegsakimbo]

Hello again mr. strider, or as you seem to be known as colloquially, "bro". I am writing to inform you that i will be going on a trip for six to twelve business days, and will be unable to ensure the total skaianet upkeep of your site during that time. My subscription however, will be paid on time as usual. Maybe the missus or the sitter will get a kick out of it ho ho! Anywho, i hope to see you, and your puppets, again soon. Tally ho!

[crybaby-bkg]

As much as you love Bakugou, he can sometimes do or say little things that upset you more than he would think. Most of the times it’s not even meant to be directed to you, other times he’s upset within other factors, and you just so happen to be in the crossfire.

He says something to you before you guys are headed out to go to Denki’s pool party. It was snippy and a little rude, and it’s enough to make you huff and become silent for the remaining time in the house. He tries to ask you little questions on the car ride over to Denki’s, but you either one-word him, or just make a noise in acknowledgment. You let him hold your bare thigh, surprisingly, but he knows it’s only because you don’t feel like speaking to him to ask him to remove it.

But when you get there, you practically haul ass it to the pool, stopped abruptly by a big hand encircling your wrist. Bakugou pulls you back to where he sits on one of the beach chairs, looks at you from over his black tinted glasses with a frown,

“Oi, did you put on any sunscreen before we left?” He asks, eyes you up and down, tries not to ogle at the bathing suit you didn’t let him admire much before putting your bathing suit slip on in the house. You frown at him and answer quickly,

“Yea, ‘course I did.” But he can tell that you’re either lying or don’t remember by the way your brows furrowed and your eyes slightly wandered off in thought. He only huffs and tugs you a little harder until you’re forced to sit in front of him, legs splayed on either side of the chair as you place your hands down in between your bodies.

“No ya didn’t.” Bakugou grunts, before digging into your packed beach bag and pulls out the sunscreen. You don’t fight him on this either, just stick your arms out for him, move your hair when he lathers up your neck. He grabs your ankles in his hands and slathers your legs in the sunscreen, and as you watch him and his intense focus, you can’t help but love how gentle he is with you. How rough and powerful palms glide across your legs, how thick fingers knead the sunscreen into your thighs and the sole of your foot, even if you don’t need it there.

He tells you to turn around, and you do. You can hear him squirting more into his hands, looking around bashfully at how your friends all smile at the two of you, lovingly jealous at how he dotes over you. You have to bite back a smile when he finishes, and places a soft kiss on both of your shoulder blades, your nape, behind your ear.

When you stand, you go to tell him thank you, but he pulls you down once more. Warm palms encase your cheeks, and he’s slathering your face down in sunscreen next. He twists your cheeks this way and that, just to hear you grumble, which makes him chuckle under his breath. He brushes his thumbs across your brows, smooths his fingertips across your forehead, pats at your chin and the creases of your nose, before he calls that he’s finished.

He pecks at your lips once, twice, and you allow him, even kissing him back for one or two of the kisses. He pushes his glasses up into his hair, his shiny forehead that’s tinted white from the sunscreen damn near blinding you.

“Sorry I was being a dickhead to you. You didn’t deserve it.” Bakugou grumbles, blinks at you with those stupidly pretty eyes that show how sincere he is. You stare down at him for a while before you hum, leaning forward to capture his lips in one last kiss.

“Be mean to me again and I’ll bite your arm off.” You whisper against him with a smile, listening to his surprised laughter bubbling from out of him. He knocks his forehead against your own, grinning, and promises that he’ll bite off the other arm too, just to save you the trouble.

#little thing I was thinking about this morning #I want him to slather me in sunscreen so gently #I’m so in love w him #I think I’m gonna watch the new movie today too!!! #it’s raining and dreary outside so it’s the perfect weather for movies and snacks under my weighted blanket #okay bye I was supposed to get in the shower like twenty mins ago #but I got stuck writing this lol #—new treat in the streets! 🍫 #bakugou treats! 🍬