#💫 ( prompts )

[maxlarens]

Lando and 4

4) caressing the other’s hand

You’re a fidgeter— you can’t help it.

Your rings, your own fingers, stray bits of paper or plastic that you pick up, the strap on your bag, your boyfriend’s bracelets, his hands. You name it, you’ll fidget with it.

It’s not nerves-related. It’s more you need to be in some way occupied at all times-related. Okay— sometimes it’s nerves-related. Right now, it’s nerves-related.

Lando leans into you, his mouth hovering by the shell of your ear as you walk together, “You okay?”

“Mm,” you mutter distractedly, too focused on looking between the people with cameras and makeshift microphones dogging your every step, “‘m fine.”

He sucks in a breath, like a hiss, and presses a quick kiss into your hair. You’re holding tightly onto his wrist, one of your fingers rolling a bead on the bracelet you made him a year ago now. He reaches to grab haphazardly at your hand— letting you continue fidgeting with the bracelet— and then drags you through the crowd as quickly as the two of you can go without making a scene.

You’re fine— really. The constant surveillance of your boyfriend is just a lot sometimes. You get it. You’d be this obsessed with him too if you weren’t his girlfriend. You might not be this in your face about it, but you understand it from people who aren’t as reserved as you.

Lando pulls you into the calm of McLaren hospitality, away from prying eyes and the flash of the camera. You blink haplessly as he guides you to sit down in one of the comfy chairs tucked away in a corner and then squats dow next to you.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, reaching for your hand where it’s still hovering around his wrist.

You breathe in through your nose, shake your head, “It’s okay. I’m good, promise.”

Lando slots his hand in with yours, the crook of your thumbs meeting and his fingers reaching to hold your wrist. He smooths his thumb back and forth against your skin for a silent moment. Your other hand picks absently at a thread on the arm of the chair.

“Love you,” he says just to say it.

You smile, “Love you.”

[shellxrls]

can i request some jj nsfw where he teaches reader how to ride it 🙏🙏

also if its ok could i be 💫 anon here :)

kind of misinterpreted this sorry 😭, less riding more bsf!jj (who's totallyyy not taking advantage of poor innocent reader *cough cough*) getting inexperienced!reader into that sort of position yk? also ofc you can be 💫 anon, welcome !!

MDNI | 18+ content

"see, ain't that hard if you don't think about it too much," jj smiles up at you, tanned arms coming to hold you still as you brace yourself on his abs, the skin gently flexing under your strained fingertips while you ease yourself down onto his girth.

"'s it s'pposed to hurt this much jayj," you borderline wail, tears crystallising on your mascara-clad waterline as you sulk down at your bestfriend.

"it'll pass, just relax, papa j's got you," he soothes, "remember how good it felt when we finally got it in last time?"

you nod, the movement causing a tear to breach down your cheek and wetten your face.

"gooood," you clamp around him and tighten mid-sentence, stunting his pace as he drags out the word, "good girl. just focus on that for me alright?"

[shinyedits]

✨|| scenecore rainbow dash & fluttershy graphics

for @lavendergalactic's event; the most insane edit you can think of / a character people usually deem as "cringe" official art used

[the-golden-comet]

Unorthodox Ship Tag ⛵️

Thank you for the tag, @theink-stainedfolk , @rotting-moon-writes , and @kaylinalexanderbooks ! 💛✨

Rules: post five overly specific ship dynamics for characters in your story

I like this spin, because the last time I did this was almost like a vague guessing. Now that more of you know my OCs you’ll probably be able to figure out the ships pretty quickly 😂

1. An abductor takes an abductee on a forced adventure. This happens with THREE of my ships ⛵️⛵️⛵️. One on the high seas, one in high fantasy, and one in the high vacuums of space.

2. “And they were roommates”—ships where the main cast, in some capacity, live together in a somewhat normal slice-of-life setting. This happens with 2 (eventually 3) of my ships ⛵️⛵️⛵️

3. An overprotective OC nearly martyrs themself for their love interest. This happens with ALL SIX of my known ships ⛵️⛵️⛵️⛵️⛵️⛵️

4. Someone close to either of the main OCs dies within the story itself. This happens with 4 of my ships ⛵️⛵️⛵️⛵️

5. Enemies to Lovers. Pairs where the main love interests start with actively hindering and hating each other before developing a relationship. This happens with 3 of my ships, 4 if you count Rivals-to-Lovers ⛵️⛵️⛵️⛵️

Lots of ships 🌊

I’m going to tag (gently, no pressure): @fortunatetragedy , @gioiaalbanoart , @jev-urisk , @lavender-gloom , @leatafandom , @autism-purgatory , @theink-stainedfolk , @thebearthatreads , @alinacapellabooks , @sableglass , @cowboybrunch , @wyked-ao3 , @coffeexafterxmidnight , @honeybewrites , @noblebs , @drchenquill , @smellyrottentrees , @willtheweaver , @aintgonnatakethis , @mysticstarlightduck , @paeliae-occasionally , @pixies-love-envy , @willowseed , @glasshouses-and-stones , @houseplantblank , @rotting-moon-writes , @theaistired , @talesofsorrowandofruin , @ominous-feychild , @scribble-dee-vee , @fractured-shield , @nczaversnick , @noxxytocin , +open tag! ✨

[perplexed-angel]

The gwencelot is destielling.

[flutteringfable]

compilation of zayne screenshots that make me go :3c. i have not even had this game two days and. god. fuck. i was not expecting the impact it was gonna have on my psyche /pos

and last but most certainly not least: his itty bitty teeny tiny smile

zayneeeeee i love youuuuuuu bleh

[cowboy-kidd]

Bat / Izu - He/Him They/Them (🪵 callsign ; lonestar)

16 years old!! - official service dog in training - photosensitive - queer cowboy!!! - physical nonhuman - 100% sfw - silly lil boy - i did accidentally delete my account under the same name (or spvderbatz) - mostly active at night!! (pdt) - completely normal about batman and cowboys and vampires and the ocean (lying) - i block blank blogs (no bio, no pfp)

tags:

🪵 ; lonestar - personal/speaking tag

🪸; borealis - ocean posting

🦴 ; service dog duties - gifting things to ppl

🌱 ; mazapan - advice!

🕸 ; vampyr - vamp posting // 🌸 ; chiot - pup posting

divider creds: @/cafekitsune

archive: @cowboy-kid-vault

[hanasnx]

oh my bad!!! may i be 💫 anon then! :3 i love the thought of spiderman being smooth talking and confident and dare i even say…. fuckboy adjacent. peter parker? loserboy galore mmmMMM i WILL french him through the mask TRUST. all sloppy and messy with spit and tongue yeahhhhhhh

you’re added

in a way you’re right about spider-man v peter. spider-man has that edge of confidence, pushing through with jokes and banter. i feel like a lot of people mistake him for that fuckboy bcos he’s hot when in reality he invited them out for pizza for friendship. he’s very friendly

peter is the guy that’s not good at talking to people until he matures and melds that spider-confidence. at least from my perspective on his character

my fave thing ever is kissing thru the mask i get it entirely anon 🤚 i wanna mess that mask Up

[maehemthemisfit]

﹅ 《｡·҂ MAE/WISPER ୭·࣭࣪̇˖ she/her ୭·࣭࣪̇˖ brown sugar ୭·࣭࣪̇˖ insomniac ୭·࣭࣪̇˖ wanderer lvr ୭·࣭࣪̇˖ daydreamer ᶻzᶻ𝘇𐰁

⊳ so, how may I assist you...? 🧾✒️

𓋜 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. ꒱ 𖥔 ° . *

꒰🍥꒱ ˖ ࣪ ‹ about me 𖥔 ࣪

ᥫ᭡ ﹕🗒️・[prompt list] ・✩

♡𝅼     Ꞌꞌ    : taglist | mutuals | fandoms :   

★ 【INBOX-OPEN】 「 REQUESTS-SEMI」 ☆

[10/10] DREAMS PENDING....

.° 📢 ୭̥ ៳ ANNOUNCMENTS ♡̶ —

STUCK IN BETWEEN : WHY DON'T WE FALL IN LOVE NEW SMAU MASTERLIST

anonymous loves — [ ☂️ ] [ 🕊️ ] [ 🔍 ] [ 🦈 ] [ 🌸 ] [ 💋 ] [ 💜 ] [ 🐚 ]

status : LYNEYYYYYY // come chat with me

❝𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐈 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 — 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄?❞

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Maitimo

Prompt no. 20: On a scar

Pairing: Maedhros/Fingon

Themes: Soft | NSFW

Warnings: Half-Cousin incest | Scarring | Mention of prior torture | Mention of violence (blink and you might miss it) | Insecurity

Wordcount: 543 words

Summary: After he is rescued from Thangorodrim, Maedhros is insecure about his many scars.

Minors DNI | 18+| You are responsible for the media you consume.

This fic is also available on AO3

Maedhros turned away from him when he came to help him bathe. “No need to trouble yourself,” he grumbled, pushing Fingon’s steadying hand away. “I can manage just fine.”

“No, you cannot.” Fingon refused to hear his sharp protests. “Here. Let me help you.”

He slung Maedhros’ arm around his shoulders and lifted him out of bed. His cousin weighed a fraction of what he once did, nearly skin and bone, and it alarmed him to a great degree. 

He needs more,  he realized.  More food. More rest. More of everything. 

The years of torment and deprivation his cousin endured after he was captured and later left shackled and hanging by his wrist against the face of a precipice had exacted a heavy toll. Maedhros was scarred in more than one way, and his ordeal made him exceedingly bitter. During his worst moments, he lashed out at those closest to him in anger, frustration, despair, and sometimes, even violence. And yet, Fingon found no cause for complaint. He loved Maedhros too much for that. He helped him undress before guiding him into a sunken stone tub and easing him into it. 

“Now close your eyes,” he began, setting his cousin down on a step just beneath the water. “And let me see to the rest, Maitimo.” 

Tears pooled in Maedhros’ eyes when he heard his mother-name. “Do not call me that,” he choked, taking an unsteady breath. “I am unworthy of that name now.”

Fingon, having made himself comfortable behind his cousin, picked up a soft cloth and dipped it in the water. It had been scented with oil and full of herbs. 

“You are still worthy of it,” he whispered. “Believe me in this.”

“No!” His companion lifted the stump that was all that remained of his right hand and cried. “How can you say such a thing when it is plain to anyone that I am not?”

“I say such a thing because it is true.”

“No! It is not!” Maedhros, no longer able to bear what had become of him, did something he had done only once before. He closed his eyes and openly wept, his chest heaving wildly with each sob. 

Maitimo,  he lamented.  That was the name others called me once, when my body was whole and unspoiled.

And it meant “well-shaped one.” Maedhros was not that. Not anymore. He was without a right hand, his body was littered with scars that would never fade away, and his hair was shorn close to his scalp after he was thrown at Melkor’s feet. It would take many years before it even began to grow again. 

Fingon, overcome with compassion, left the cloth on the edge of the tub and held his cousin in a loose embrace as he wept, whispering words of comfort to alleviate his sorrow. 

“You  are  still beautiful, Maitimo,” he began, taking Maedhros’ left hand. Marred ivory skin stood out against the warm, unblemished amber of his own. However, Fingon found nothing repulsive—nothing that would make him turn away. When he dipped his head and pressed his lips against a scarred shoulder, Maedhros curled into him and tucked his head beneath his chin, still whimpering. “And I fully intend to show you that you are.”

Image by Etienne Girardet/Unsplash

[shellxrls]

smut related and ik u get so many but more fluff and silly ?? idk 😭 but jj n reader in the spare bedroom yk being horny teens but theyre high asf and keep being so clumsy and giggly 🩷 like imagine almost fall off and falling on ur ass -💫

THIS IS SO CUTE I'M FREAKING !! this is actually all i want with jj frl just one night where we can roll around on his bed high :((. made jj's first name jesse here bcuz i thought it was funny.

─── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ───

"shhh," he shoves a weed-dirtied fingertip against your face, fighting the urge to smush it even further against your lips when you try to pry your mouth open in protest, "they can hear us."

you lick his finger in defiance, to which he drops it and shakes his hand, eyeing you down with no real malice, "who can hear us jayj?"

"the cannibals, the ones in the sewers," he explains, cocking his head at you like he was having trouble understanding why you'd even need an explanation.

"you're so stupid oh my god," you laugh and push at his chest from your position seated above him, watching the way his lips crinkle upwards into a small smile, "bet you just wanted an excuse to stick your gross fingers into my mouth."

"mmh, i dunno, i got somethin' else you could stick in your mouth though.." he trails off as you scoff, dramatically attempting to untangle yourself and clamber away from him for his continuous perverted comments. "hey, 'm joking, c'mere," he tries to pull you back towards him, hooking his fingers underneath whatever extremities he could hold onto and pulling you closer.

"j-jj 'm gonna fall," you yelp, sliding off the bed as his grabby hands force the balance out of you and have you landing straight on the hard wood.

"should've just stayed on my lap," he shrugs.

"jesse james maybank — i swear to god," you lunge for his abdomen, digging your fingers into the muscled flesh until he's wheezing from laughter and slapping your hands away.

─── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ───

[capricioussun]

Underfell Papyrus with the prompt "Can’t stop shaking," please

Hope you feel better soon ^^ 💜

This one got away from me a bit so I'm sorry if it's a little janky but also ty ;; 🩵

Ao3

CW, sick fic, sick character's pov, hospital stuff

Prompt list

—

A strange sound filtered in through the darkness. Fuzzy and ticklish, distant in the back of his skull. When it happened again, pain bloomed there, bleeding down his cervical vertebrae to ache through his ribcage.

Feeling began to register as that pain traveled further. Every limb drawn taut like a wooden doll held together with too little string. Tremors held him in a vice grip, unable to think beyond the radiating soreness weighing him down like lead, stifled further by a heavy weight laid atop the length of his body. Not only heavy, but hot, smotheringly so, yet doing nothing to reach the chills shivering up his spine, exacerbating the aches further.

That sound happened again, muffled, but more familiar, a voice. He tried to open his mouth to speak, to question, when that tickling sensation jumped, right to his throat, jolting fully awake with a vicious bout of coughing.

"Oh-!" a large, furry paw smoothed over the top of his head as that sound came again, closer, words, but none clear enough to parse over his own choking. He could hardly open his eyes enough to see the distorted shapes above him, let alone make sense of them.

Something cloth passed across his teeth, and instincts abruptly urged to push his attacker away before they could gag him, but his arms were useless, weak and buried at his sides. As the coughing finally subsided he could hear the stifled rattling of his own bones beneath the thick fabric restricting him.

"It is only me, Papyrus-" still cloudy, but discernible at last, "Toriel. Calm down," her gentle voice finally clicked into alignment with everything else. Toriel, his...friend? His mind grappled for a word or phrase to define what she was to him, but thoughts seemed to jumble together, clinging uselessly to the inside of his skull.

"Do not strain yourself," she soothed again, brushing the side of her paw against his cheekbone. As disoriented as he felt, he could still hear the strain in her steady tone.

Blinking slowly, the stale magic lining his sockets prevented his vision from focusing, but the rest of his unease passed recognizing Toriel's silhouette. When the cloth pressed to his teeth again he made no move to struggle. Not that he could've – he'd become acutely aware he felt awful.

Soon enough, the light pressure disappeared, his eyes fighting exhaustion to squint back open.

"There," she sighed, and then went quiet for a moment. The battle was quickly lost, his eyes drifting back shut, when he heard the floor creak. "I will get you some water." She spoke so softly, not dissimilar to how she spoke to Frisk...it felt disarming to hear it directed at him.

As her steps faded, his own noise became emphasized in the silence. Any white noise of the house settling or Toriel's movements elsewhere went entirely drowned out by every wet, rasping breath drawn, the unrelenting rattling tremble of his bones. Dizzy and nauseous, unable to so much as sit up, dully he remembered what was wrong with him. He was sick.

Very sick.

Without warning, the nausea heightened, coiled below his ribcage and he shuddered, swallowing thickly as much as he could before a sweeping chill wracked him, gasping into another, weaker coughing bout. Even his mind would not cooperate, feeling like his head had been stuffed with static and cotton.

Back underground, pain was simply a facet of life. Being stabbed, broken, bruised and beaten; especially in the guard. Seldom a day went by he returned home plagued only by weariness. But it had always been his brother prone to illness. He could probably count the number of times on one hand he could remember being sick himself, and it had never felt like this. Like his own body trying to exorcise him.

A strange lightheadedness possessed him, whatever few thoughts he could cling to slipping rapidly from his grasp. Only distantly was he aware of Toriel’s return and her attempting to get him to drink, raising his head in a strong, careful grip. He tried to tell her not to, his body was disgustingly soaked in his own sweat, it would matte her fur, surely, but all that came out was a strangled groan as she finally lowered him back to the pillow.

Were it not for lingering common sense, he would've worried his bones were on the verge of rattling apart. His focus had nowhere else to tether as wakefulness loosened from him further, drifting back and forth often enough to keep him miserably aware of his own discomfort, but no more, not enough to think.

Time lost all meaning between snatches of consciousness, if it could’ve been called that. Every brief moment of awareness lost upon every lapse. He wouldn't remember catching whispers of two voices, one he knows better than any other, tense and worried. Wouldn't remember cringing weakly as he was moved, carried by strong, shaking hands to a cool vehicle, trembling hard enough to whimper at the pain of it. Wouldn't remember strangers’ hands replacing trusted ones, or how they caught him as he convulsed, getting sick on unfamiliar tile floors.

None of that remained, nor the days that followed.

Nothing made sense by the time his mind feebly made its way back to him. A low beeping beside him, the warmth of sunlight on his hands. When he managed to pry his tired eyes open, clean, white, unfamiliar walls greeted him. The bed before him less unknown, a hospital bed, with clinical white sheets outlining his body underneath. Wires that must've been attached to him snaked out from beneath – he couldn't feel them, but he couldn't feel much of anything beyond an overwhelming fatigue.

The air brought into his ribcage with every breath felt oddly cool, eyes drifting closed to focused what little energy he had on recalling what had led him here. Nothing came back before that beeping changed, only once, two staccato chirps seamlessly flowing back into its prior rhythm.

Automatically, he tried to look to the source, neck stiff and unwilling but managing enough to see a screen displaying stats he couldn't make sense of. He was in a hospital, of course, but what would he need to be monitored for? Why-

"rus?"

Turning his head too quickly, he flinched with a sharp inhale, "whoa whoa, take it easy, papyrus, s'just me."

Vision clearing from the unexpected jolt, his brother came into view. Outlined in the early morning, or perhaps late afternoon light filtering in from the window behind him, Sans stood beside his bed, obviously looking worse for wear in spite of the easy grin plastered on his features.

"What-" the dryness of his magic choked him, coughing as Sans fussed, pulling a cup of water off a tray he hadn't noticed with a flick of blue magic to force upon him with a mild scold. The surreality of it made him question if he was actually awake.

Clearing his throat more properly, any questions fell to the wayside as exhaustion frustratingly took hold again. He laid back, half-breathless just from drinking, and watched as Sans moved to set the cup back down by hand, aimlessly picking at the few other items on the tray. It didn't seem he actually needed to ask, watching Sans deliberately find things to do, carefully avoiding meeting his eyes. The blanket was his next target, returning to the bed to fix it, smoothing it, brow bones pinched in an unusually tight scowl.

He said nothing, perhaps too tired to be annoyed by the prevarication, or perhaps understanding something bad must’ve happened to upset his brother this deeply.

It wasn’t long before the tension cracked with a sigh. Sans stuffed his hands back into his pockets as he stared down at where a wire was surely attached to his brother’s soul under the sheets. What he was really seeing was anyone's guess, but the string was fully cut when Sans took another, deeper breath, clearing his throat and shuffling the few steps back to the chair he must've been sleeping in.

"you uh, you really don't do nothin' halfway, do ya, kid," he breathed a humorless laugh as he slowly lowered into the chair. That single working eyelight drew up to the gaze rested on him, his own weariness now plain as day.

Papyrus held that attention steadily, hoping the slight furrow of his brow bone asked well enough for him. A shadow passed over Sans' expression, gone again in a flicker as he looked away for a moment before returning, but he didn't miss the tightness of his brother's voice as he answered.

"you got sick, papyrus. really sick." His hands fidgeted where they were clasped in his lap, wringing each other sluggishly. "scared the hell outta tori. wouldn' even let the kid visit 'cause she..."

One hand moved to his knee, clearing the shakiness from his voice and making a poor attempt to cover it with a chuckle. "don' matter now. got a little outta hand ‘cause of a secondary infection, but the doc said yer improving real well so it don' matter."

A small measure of sincerity lightened Sans' smile, voice low and calm, "now ya just gotta rest, got it?" He didn't even realize his sockets were sinking shut as he listened.

"just gotta relax, 'rus, i ain't goin' nowhere. s’gunna be alright."

Of course it would, he didn’t say. He didn’t have to. This time, sleep claimed him much more gently.

[the-golden-comet]

🌸✨OC Questionnaire Tag +bonus Character Voice✨🌺

Thank you for this tag @mysticstarlightduck here, a character voice tag here, more questions from @ominous-feychild here and @fantasy-things-and-such here✨

My questions:

How good is your sleep schedule?

Do you have any siblings? If so, how good is your relationship?

What was the toughest time you had to endure while growing up?

What was the worst day of your life?

What's your worst nightmare?

If a monster asked you your worst nightmare, what would you tell it and why?

"What's your relationship with your family like?"

"Do you have any hobbies? if so, what ones?"

"Do you dream often? what about?"

"What is the one thing you would not wish on your greatest adversary?

And answering the questions With this voice:

"(sighs, done with life) Alright, what did you do now?"

Guess who has the perfect OC to answer these? That’s right: Come on out, Tyr:

From In The Realm Of Giants

Sucks. Getting jostled around in a jar isn’t the most comfortable sleeping space. Go figure, right? (Glares up at Tav)

No. I’m an only child. Mom died when I was five, and Dad’s been overprotective of his only son. Heh….probably should’ve listened in hindsight…

Right after Mom died, we were grieving. Dad grieved a long, long time. He was so paranoid he’d lose me too, that he didn’t let me outside our cottage home for a year. I had to really fight hard to show him that I can be worthy of leadership, that I’m okay, and he doesn’t need to smother me. I passed all the trials and he still sees me as this defenseless child. I’m twenty-two now; I don’t need to have him breathing down my neck.

Losing my mother. How Dad sat me down, tears welled in his eyes, choking out that Mom wasn’t coming back. I felt lost…confused….angry. D-damn it….

(Glares up at the giant from inside the jar) I dunno, Tav. What IS my worst nightmare?

(still glaring, words dripping with venomous sarcasm) OH GEE, I DON’T KNOW, GUSTAV. What WOULD I tell you?

I love my dad and my village. Yeah, he can be a bit overbearing at times, but I can see why. I’m a rebellious little shit, and I caused a lot of trouble for him. And the village…I would die to protect my people. Oh Dad, I’m sorry….I hope everyone’s doing alright….

Besides not getting eaten by a giant? I did my trainings to get all my marks. I guess you can call those hobbies….? I passed my archery test for the Mark of the Snake, led a successful pack hunt for my Mark of the Wolf, and passed the fishing trial for my Mark of the Bear

Usually it’s nightmares about getting eaten alive….being abducted by this dumbass didn’t help that—H-HEY! Don’t jostle the jar!! Fucker, you did that on purpose!! I see you snickering!!

(Glaring up at Gustav so intensely the sun couldn’t burn him to the same degree)

G: …..Huh? What? I wasn’t paying attention. 🤷‍♂️

Whew! I’ll leave these same questions for anyone else who wants to answer, as little or as many as you want in any order! ✨

Tagging (no pressure): @finickyfelix , @illarian-rambling , @saturnine-saturneight , @rivenantiqnerd , @noxxytocin , @pixies-love-envy , @honeybewrites , @drchenquill , @theaistired , @aintgonnatakethis , @willtheweaver , @autism-purgatory , @gioiaalbanoart , @alinacapellabooks , @fortunatetragedy , @theverumproject , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @wyked-ao3 , @addicted2coke-theothercoke , @paeliae-occasionally , @sunglasses-in-the-bentley , @jev-urisk , @thatuselesshuman , @lychhiker-writes +open tag! ✨

[prettyboybun]

Gonna be thinking about the concept of this post for a while. Just. A puppy dom taking things that have been used to try to get him to submit on a much more submissive pup

Like "aww, thanks for the slip collar chain, I know someone who will take to it much better" <3

Gags? Muzzles? Leashes? He takes them all and uses them on his sweet pup, who would have submitted to him even without all these toys. The pup doesn't mind, of course, he just loves being good for sir <3

[thats-how-i-like-it]

no uncle i don't wan't contact lenses, my glasses are a part of my face.

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

"Do you not realize it? Do you... truly not see what this means?"

The next Destiny Bond update is in progress! ❄️✨ –> Check out the latest part here 🔷 –> New to the series? Follow from the start! 💜