#(completely fucking drenched in oil)

[cyeayt]

I’ve been talking/thinking about the metamorphosis specifically the metamorphosis ballet all day does that count?

I have pictures

Also at the end the lead dancer is just standing there like

Yeah he did a great job but I bet he really wants to take a shower

And when he finishes bowing he turns and motions to a guy who’s come on to the stage I guess he’s the violinist or musician or something

And he’s wearing a black suit with black fedora and converse

Hyperfixate on some Freak Shit.

[k-hotchoisan]

congrats on five hundred darling! so proud! 🥳💕

for the this or that... number 3 perhaps??

keep going! love your work 🫶

3. Tease Yunho with toys or Jongho controlling the vibrator inside you for an entire day?

OK WAIT NOT U CALLING ME DARLING STOP IT \(//∇//)\ This one is a toughie bc boTH SOUND SO FUN…. But OKAY IMAGINE CONTROLLING YUYU…..

I feel like writing yuyu fics are my Roman Empire

When you finally catch the Cupid and decide to confront him in an unconventional way.

Warnings/genres: smut, Drabble, Eros & psyche au!, orgasm control, orgasm denial, toy play, orgasm,

Tag list: @bro-atz @diamond-3 <message me to be in my tag list✨)

K’s 500: this or that? Masterlist here!

You know you had to spend almost every week in the dim-lighted room, with a man who you didn’t even know, and you could only hear his voice and feel his touches. When he first did touch you, you never thought it would be so electrifying and it got you hooked on so quickly. Even though the both of you were always drenched in darkness, your body reacted almost automatically when you feel him cup your jaw and you immediately submit under his soft touches, as he whispered sweet nothings to you.

The only thing that stung your heart other not knowing your companion’s identity, was that by dawn break, your bedside would be left empty and cold. You didn’t mind at first, but as you spent more time together, it was inevitable—you were starting to feel something for this man, and you were getting gradually frustrated.

“You know what you should do? Fucking trap his ass”, your friend says.

“I want to, but how?” You huff in frustration.

A confident smile plasters on your friend’s face, as she pulls out a pair of glowing cuffs, and a bullet vibrator. You cock an eyebrow, picking up the vibrator.

The night came quicker than you thought, and as your heart is beating loudly in your ears. You only had one chance for this. You were always so curious of how your lover looked like, but were you ready to find out who? You almost decide to just leave it be, but the sudden reminders that you were always left alone and cold in the morning only solidified your resolve to find out his identity. You bite back the cowardliness that nips your nerves and hatched your plan.

You see his figure on the bed, obscured by the shadows of the flickering flame. He’s not leaned against the headboard waiting for you like he usually is, rather, he seemed to have fallen into slumber, his comfortable and soft breathing making him look all the more vulnerable. You almost feel bad for what you’re about to do, almost.

You climb onto the shared bed and straddle his lap, hoping it’s enough to trap him, because you know he would never hurt you.

Yunho eyes flutter open. He’s confused for a moment, until his eyes adjust to the familiar dim room around him. You definitely took awhile to arrive that he ended up taking a short nap. He realises two things:

1. You’re on his chest, sleeping soundly;

2. He tries to move, but he can’t. He looks up, and realises he’s been retrained against the headboard.

You stir, when the shaking of the chains disturb your sleep.

“Y/n?” He calls out. You shift, lifting your head as your rub your eyes.

“Hi Yunho”, you greet back, acting like nothing’s happening.

“Hey. I think I’m stuck”, a rattle of his wrists, before you feel his gaze go back to you.

You sit up, your crotch right on his, and you shift to look over, ignoring the way he groans softly under you, looking over at the cuffs you trapped him in.

“Right. You need help with that?”

You feel him nod beneath you.

“That’s gonna have to wait.”

Yunho is confused. He stares up at you, and he puts two and two together almost immediately.

“You’re not going anywhere tonight, Yunho”, you whisper.

“Wha-“ he doesn’t get a chance to complete his sentence, and terror washes over his face when you take the oil lamp seated on the nightstand, and move the light close to his face.

His facial features slowly come into view, and he’s so much more gorgeous than you thought—a face truly sculpted by the gods. It’s the first time you finally feel your eyes lock onto Yunho’s under the light. He looks at you with such softness, and all the more you want to ruin him.

You settle the oil lamp down, and Yunho opts for the smart decision not to wriggle beneath you so he doesn’t get burned (unlike the previous Eros).

“Now you know how I look like, would you let me explain and release me, please?” Yunho pleads, his pupils growing larger. A small pout appears on your lips, as your fingers trace his lips, your thumb swiping his bottom lip. His pleads sound so lovely. But it only feeds into the greed you have—being in control.

The memories of him constantly leaving you alone every morning resurface again, and your smile grows more sinister.

You grind against his slowly hardening cock, and Yunho gasps as you lean into his ear, and the words that leave your lips has shivers sending down his spine.

“No.”

“ Why are you doing this?” He asks, watching the way you remove yourself off his lap, tugging his slacks off him, his cock springing out, long and hard despite his confusion.

“For the mornings you left me cold and alone,” you simply answer, as your fingers wrap around his length, giving it a couple of pumps as you hear Yunho’s breath get caught in his throat.

“Y/n, wait-“

“We can always stop, and never see each other again.”

Yunho’s eyes widen. The truth is, he’s as attached and in love with you more than he realised. What begun as a simple mission from his mother, turned into something more than that. He knew that one day, you would discover his identity, and that it would be over, but when that though crossed his mind, he realises that he never wants to leave your side.

And the thought of you being in control for once? He has no complaints. He just never thought this day would come so soon.

“I guess I could just break Aphrodite’s rules once in awhile.”

Now you’re in between his legs, as he watches you give small licks to his twitching cock. Your eyes dart back and forth to his and his cock, watching his expressions. You relish the sounds of his soft groans and sighs before you take his cock whole in your mouth, and Yunho bucks his hip, a longer drawn groan leaving his lips.

“Fuckkk!” He cries out, trying to fit as much of his length into your mouth. You choke slightly, letting your saliva dribble past the corner of your lips to his cock. You begin to slowly bob your head, creating a rhythmic sensation that only pulls out more cries from the Cupid beneath you.

As his cries only climb in octaves, the many sessions you’ve had with him had conditioned you to recognise his reactions, and you halt, dragging your tongue upwards alongside the underside of his cock as you hear a whine.

Yunho stares at you with such a glazed out look as you’re seated upright again, licking the slick on your lips as Yunho watches on helplessly, the action only causing him to feel more sexually tensed. You pull out the small vibrator.

“Y/n, darling, what are doing?” Yunho asks, trying to hide the shivering anticipation coating his words.

“Venting my frustrations”, you reply as you stroke his thighs. The Cupid calms down slightly, as he watches you lick the device, covering it in your spit before switching it on, as it buzzes to life.

You tap it lightly onto the tip of his cockhead, and the reaction is immediate—Yunho’s whines grow high pitched, and his cockhead spurts out more clear fluid. You shift the vibrator awfully slowly across the skin to the place you know he’s extremely sensitive, and it pulls more cries out of him.

“Oh cupids, oh my gods. Y/n, please”, he begs, his legs opening on instinct, as he tries to control himself. He hates leaving you alone when dawn breaks, because the more he does it, the more it gets harder for him to do so. But he decides that he probably deserves it.

You push the toy harder against the area, and Yunho elicits a high pitched cry. It feels so fucking good, he wants you to keep doing that, he wants you to torture him like this, he wants to fucking cum-

And then it shifts, and Yunho’s eyes snap open wide, horrified, as he watches you drag the toy down his shaft. It feels so good that it hurts. You know his body as good as he knows yours and it’s a double edged sword.

The toy is at the base of his cock, and Yunho feels his balls tighten at the sensitivity—it’s so close to his balls but so far, he feels the ripples of the vibrations but it isn’t enough.

“It’s not that I wanna do it… Aphrodite…” Yunho’s mind is just turning into mush the more his stomach tightens.

You stare back into his glazed eyes, stroking his cheek endearingly, as you watch his face contort into one filled with pleasure as you trail the device upwards again, pressing against his tip.

“Aphrodite is a fucking bitch, you know. So what if she created you?”, you pout, watching him squirm as he tries to chase another orgasm, only for you to remove the toy from his cockhead, and his breathing is so erratic and heavy.

“She doesn’t need to know that I found out how you look like”, you continue. All Yunho could do is nod desperately, as he feels you press the buzzing toy right at his tip again. “For a goddess of love, she has weird rules.”

“Fuck. It’s too much”, Yunho sobs, the constant pleasure building, and being pulled away from him and then immediately flooding his senses.

“You could just break them”, you say as a matter-of-factly, twirling the device around his cock head, looking at the way he flexes his abdomen every time you brush against the sensitive area of his red-tinted cock. “She doesn’t have to know.”

“Do you think you deserve to cum?” You finally ask, albeit way too causally.

“Let me cum, darling, Angel, baby, please”, he tries again, his eyes oh so full of desperation. “I’ll do anything for you. Anything.”

You lean back, deciding to be kind for now, and up the vibration of the toy, pressing it painfully against the tip of his cockhead, and sounds Yunho makes sends so much dopamine into your brain. Your pretty little Cupid, unravelling right before your eyes.

“Cumming, cumming. Oh fuck-“ he cries, as his cock twitches uncontrollably, spurting so much thick cum, the vibrations only sending him into deeper layers of pleasure.

“So fucking good. Oh gods, it’s so much, haah-“ his moans are slowly turning into sobs, as his eyes roll back from the overstimulation. Your breathing is ragged now, seeing your partner in such bliss, that you are almost jealous.

You bite your lip as you drop the vibrator onto the bed after turning it off, as you reach over to uncuff his wrists. Deep down, you knew he had to go since you found out about his identity. But the moment you release his shackles, his wings grow wide as it spans and towers over you, as if his big frame wasn’t enough.

Now he’s on top of you. Yunho has a frenzied glint in his eyes, and it’s your turn for your heart to thump in anticipation.

Yunho has you trapped beneath him this time, as he stares at you hungrily. You’ve never seen him like this before.

“You’d best believe I’d defy Aphrodite. And on top of that, you’re not leaving until I fuck you so fucking sore, not even when dawn breaks.”

[cybertron-after-dark]

TFA shockwave is so fucking hot and cringe and I need him so bad. Everything we know about him is completely insane and I'm obsessed with him. He's sophisticated and articulate and yet he is stupid and so so bad at lying. He lived in the catacombs under Iacon for like a solid few weeks at least and it's kind of implied the only thing he did down there was get drunk as fuck given how much oil was just. There. He gets chucked into a wall and he does not retaliate until he gets chucked a second time. He killed like three people. He would've killed a fourth if the beachcomber scene didn't get deleted. He has silly stretchy arms. He is a constant wreck drenched in anxiety. He wanted Bumblebee of all bots to be his bestie and help keep his name clear while he made his way up to the elite guard. He pulled Bumblebee out of a locker he got shoved into and tenderly reassembled him after his legs got taken off. He pulled a Starscream style "hey heyyy don't hit me, I'm just a little guy, and its my birthdayyy" when Bulkhead beat his ass. He got genuinely sad about Arcee having been a teacher before she got fucking drafted. He switches out of longarm mode every time he steps into his office like he's taking off his heels and bra when he gets home. He smiles like he's stoned for his high level military id photo. He keeps a secret bulletin board full of Decepticon contraband and up there with risky info and reviews of battles from the great war is the cybertronian equivalent to a dilbert comic. He worked an office job with the autobots for well over 50 years. He thinks Starscream's a fucking pussy. He calls Megatron shit like "your Excellency" and probably dreams about kissing him under the moonlight about as often as Lugnut does. He calls bumblebee and bulkhead his "buddies" on multiple occasions. He wanted to kill Perceptor for being a war criminal. He thought standing up on his treads a little and putting a crane hook on his cannon was a good enough disguise for his altmode. Somehow it worked. He has an absurd amount of ass. He is so so fucking lonely. He keeps calling Ratchet a crusty old ass bitch. He's a neurosurgeon. He does neurosurgery barehanded with his fucked up claws. He trips people with his stupid long ass rubberhose limbs. He has a silly little laptop that is comically too small for him.

There is so much wrong with him and I want to kiss him so so badly.

[sanjisblackasswife]

Sanji Becomes More Dominant (Part 3) (VERY NSFW!!! + FLUFF)

Part 1 | Part 2

Word Count: 3.4k

Black Fem! Reader in mind

sorry this took so long lmao THIS is the final part btw

CW: Dom! Sanji, Sub! Reader, Praise, “Good Girl” Used, Slight Hand Kink(?), Sanji is wearing rings because jeeeeeezzzzz yes, Biting, Vibrating Toy/Tongue Ring Use, Spitting in mouth and vagina, slight Ab Riding, Titty Fucking, Oral sex, Vaginal sex, Boobjob, Sir Kink, Hair pulling, Choking, Sensual Massaging, Begging, Teasing, Reader Ejaculates Multiple Times, Orgasm Denial, Aftercare

“You like this don’t you, sweetheart?”

His slender fingers curled inside your cunt enhancing the wet noises coming out of you, if it didn’t feel so good you’d be crying from how sensitive you’re becoming.

Sanji couldn’t get over how much your pussy was drenched. The mixture of the oil and your arousal blended in with the scent of the vanilla candle making him nearly pussy drunk from the smell alone. With each thrust of his finger came a wetter sound than the last, his cold rings grazed your clit so deliciously making you clench a little, you wanted to feel embarrassed but the only thing you could feel was the knot forming under your belly to cum, Sanji’s one hand playing with your pussy and his other resting gently on your ass kneeding it a little, your toes were curling in anticipation, but—-

Sanji pulls out.

“Sanji!” You cried looking back, his eyes were dark as he sucked off his fingers moaning a little from your addictive taste.

“You didn’t say you wanted to cum, Y/N. You just wanted my fingers.”

“But—“

“Lay on Your back.” Was all he commanded as he threw off his shirt and pulled down his bottoms to free his cock he’s been neglecting this whole time.

You have him puppy dog eyes feeling your high die down quickly, but you turn on your back anyways with a slight pout. Sanji found it so cute, he climbed over your body, his skinny fingers rubbed against your breast, and dragged down to your tummy, but back up to your throat threatening to enclose his hand around it but he kissed you first.

“Can I fuck those pretty tits of yours, baby?” Not giving him an answer on time earned you a firm grasp of his fingers around your throat. You let out a pathetic gasp at the pressure around you, the cold silver rings adding a tightness to his hold. “Speak up, please.”

“Yes! Yes, Sir!”

He motioned you to hold up your breast, biting his lip at the lewd sight, he slid his Dick in between the fat part of them hissing, you seen how his pink tip emerged right in front of your mouth making you gasp.

“Spit on it.”

Being so obedient you dribbled some spit out on the tip. Sanji licked his lips seeing your plump lips so close around his cock like that, he used your saliva as lube to thrust in and out of your breast making you both moan.

You’ve never done this, you didn’t even think Sanji was into this because he has never asked but you were more than willing to let him, seeing his face contort with pleasure huffing out try to not whine too much was so attractive. What’s gotten into him?

“Open—ah! Your mouth!” You immediately did as told, he pulled out to aim right on your tongue. He hastened his pace to slap his cock on it a few times before letting it rest heavily on your little muscle. You never really had many times to have his dick in your mouth because he likes going down on you more but you took this opportunity to suck it weakly. “Fuck!… wait baby—!”

You heard him, but you didn’t really care to listen your thighs began to rub for some form of friction feeling it in your mouth, tasting him was something you’ve enjoyed doing. You couldn’t seem to get yourself to stop as you were slowly sucking him for all he’s worth, the noises of your slurping and popping of the lips made Sanji bend over and grip the headboard moaning out. He completely forgot how greedy and dangerous you were when you sucked his cock.

“Y-y/n! Fuck—!” You wanted more of him in your mouth so you pushed him a little. He slowly began to lay on his back holding up his elbows to watch your slutty little mouth try to fit him in entirely while laying beside him, you interchanged from stroking with your hands , to sucking and twirling your tongue. Sanji couldn’t help but to cry out and cum, feeling you swallow everything he had. You felt some of his semen ooze out of the corner of your mouth and he noticed.

“Nope..” He reached for the remnant and shoved it in your mouth, “don’t want you wasting all of that…there you go…”

You were back on your back sucking his fingers, Looking into his eyes made your spine arch slowly as if you were presenting your breast to him, he sucked his bottom lip, cock twitching at the lustful sight, his eyes moved at your untouched nipples, with his finger still in your mouth and hovered over teasingly rotating the tip of his tounge on the sensitive buttons earning a hum and a harsh suck on his digits.

Sanji closed his eyes moaning softly suckling your breast, you look down feeling your mouth now empty with both of his hands groping your chest and moving from one nipple to the other licking and kissing them so sweetly, his nose bled just a little. It was actually kind of hot to see him lose in composure .

“Fuck this—sit on my face.”

You nearly choked on air hearing his request. You were not a fan of sitting on his face, not because he was bad it was because you felt like that position was so embarrassing, Sanji noticed the contort on your face and caressed your cheek. Once again that feel of his cold silver rings made you feel so weak.

“Wont you…? Take a seat on your throne, darling?”

He laid beside you and grabbed you to straddle him, you were so soaked you felt your pussy damped his abs. You bit your lip trying to avoid his dark gaze, but all the while you’re doing something too naughty for Sanji to even comprehend,

“Woah, y/n!” He held your waist to stop your grinding, “You’ll ride my stomach but you won’t ride my face? Common let me taste you…”

“I um Sir….I don’t wanna—“

He swatted your left cheek making your shriek and look at him with widened eyes. He doesn’t spank you often but the sharp pain felt way too good, and Sanji knew from the slight feel of you clenching down on nothing,

“Sit on my face.”

You may have been on top of him, he may have dried blood under his nose, and his eyes shaped like small hearts, but you somehow felt so small. His body was hot and you felt a darken presence around him, you scoot your way up to grab ahold the headboard, mind going a mile a minute feeling Sanji’s mouth right under your soaked cunt.

“San—!”

“Sh sh sh shhh.” He parted your lips exposing the way your insides kept clenching for him, looking at the lewd sight of you made him spread you open further to stick his tongue inside.

The slither of it dragging in and out of your walls made your body sink further down, your thighs squeeze Sanji’s face, but he of course didn’t mind.

His hands were locked around them holding you down from escaping which scared you so much to the point you began to ignore the pleasure he was sending you, but your wonderful Mr. Prince knows your body like how he knows fish so he creeped his fingers to your untouched clit and swirled around inhaling more of your scent as you began to jerk and grind again.

You were moving the bed back and fourth on the wall trying to push yourself back to the orgasm that was stolen from you, your left thigh twitched on Sanji’s sweaty cheek signaling him that you were close.

And that’s when he pulled you off.

“SANJI!” Your Voice practically broke crying his name in frustration now laying on your back with him hovering over you, arms over your head as your semi pussy drunk boyfriend looked down at your panting wet slippery body.

“Sanji please let me cum on your tongue it’s not f—-!”

Your pouts were cut with your tounge being sucked and kissed on. Sanji kissed you with urgency and your returned the favor with neediness moaning about how much you wanted to cum, your eyes were still shut not noticing Sanji reaching above your head to grab the rectangle box he got just for you and pulled out the gift.

With a quick flick of his thumb you heard loud buzzing which stopped your kisses and turned into a lustful whine feeling this new contraption on your soft pulsating clit.

“FUCK!” You huffed letting your legs spread wider. Your eyes went back to your head biting your lower lip making Sanji press the toy down harder and stroke himself while watching. Your hands flew to his arm rolling the toy in hard wide circles with your hips moving with the direction of it.

Your orgasm was coming so close and even harder than it has all night you felt tears prickle down your cheeks huffing out, head shaking back and fourth.

You were a damn mess and Sanji couldn’t get enough of this sight.

“Cum for me, Princess.” His voice was ragged, barely holding himself together between your legs reaching the orgasm with you switching the vibrator from your clit to the top of his tip.

Your leg twitched again.

Right as your orgasm was at its peak Sanji couldn’t take it anymore and slid himself inside you with the toy still pressed on your clit. You hollered so loudly it nearly made your voice crack.

“SANJI!”

His pace wasn’t letting up even after cumming, his right hand above your head holding your hand and his left holding up one thigh making sure you both feel the vibrator on both of you. This wasn’t like any orgasm before you both were drooling, too pussy/Dick drunk and overstimulated to the point that all you could hear was the bed creaking, skin slapping, and rhythmic moaning from you both.

“ Y/N, FUCK—!”

Sanji couldn’t believe how addicting it was to fuck you like this, to have you crying like this, cumming like this, to have you begging for more like this.

This is all he wanted to do to you and more.

Slowing down his pace, and pulling away from your breast he moves your twitching limp body over on your stomach with care kissing your body all over in the process but not allowing the vibrator to shift from it’s rightful position on your clit. He put it on the highest setting out of pure selfishness and excitement making your whines much louder and body ache much faster. Yeah, cumming felt painful now, but the pain of it all felt even more amazing.

Sanji’s hips stuttered, both hands pressed on your hips, lower spine arched, and his cock dragged in and out of your worked cunt, his pelvis bouncing off your soft ass giving it a few smacks of appreciation now feeling the bottom of his stomach twist for another release inside you. He looked up at your pretty hair now getting messy from moving all over the bed. He was already on cloud 9, why not add on to the pleasure?

He moved his right hand to grab your scalp and do a gentle tug. He felt you clench down harder and hum,

“Fuck—-you like that baby?”

“Mmhmmm!” You Sing Holding in your lips hoping he pulls harder and he does, giving your back a beautiful arch further upwards than it was already.

You were pretty much fucked dumb at this point, from his cock and the vibrator you had no other thought in your mind except to finish on him one more time.

“Fais le maintenant, princess” (do it right now, Princess)

Sanji growls in your ear, he knows you wants to cum, he can feel your cunt squeeze him so tightly He couldnt help but to keep fucking himself into the back of you, on hand gripping your ass now and the other pulling your hair.

Your slutty noises bounced off the stuffy walls, the bed’s creaking coming to a slow stop, now nothing but panting and the muffled noise of the vibrator being heard between you both.

You couldn’t explain how your body felt, still feeling the toy pressed on your worn slit now that Sanji is against you to kiss your sweaty wet back again. You moan, his warm seed mixed with the oil and sweat, pooling out of your pussy, your pervy man couldnt help but to move back up and spread a cheek to see the damage.

“You’re so fucking Beautiful, my love.”

He pulled out but he wasn’t done. He didn’t want to be.

“Here.” He spoke rolling you over to your back again, your entire body jiggled, your chest rising and shaking as you exhale, you felt Sanji finally release Your continuous stimulation of the toy to place on the night stand. For a split second you hoped he didn’t toss it after all this.

Sanji hovered over you, caging you in his strong muscular arms. He looked so big and nearly intimidating to you, his eyes were a different hue of blue tonight, no longer was it the typical blue/grey he had, but it was darker and the moon light of the window bounced off of his heart shaped iris’ So Beautifully.

“You’re so pretty, Sanji…” you managed to whisper to him reaching for his face, you took him out of the daze he was falling in love all over again looking at you. You were in such a vulnerable state. Just for him.

All for him.

And only him.

Kissing your wrist he peppered all the way down to your lips, when you were met with his you felt as if he was going to leave you if he let go. He lowered himself moaning softly into your mouth as you held the back of his neck with one hand and locked hands with his other.

“That was probably the realest kiss you ever gave me..” He smiled, you nearly felt yourself getting warmer in the face, noticing your embarrassed pout he chuckled. “You okay?”

You nod, you still wasn’t sure what was up with Sanji tonight, but this was what you wanted, what you needed, so once again who were you to question it?

Sanji wanted to. He wanted to not push your limit too much tonight, but he was still a pervert at heart and wanted to try one more thing before he cleaned you up.

“Baby…..” His hands trailed down the sides of your body. You finally started to come down from your high, breathes now a bit regulated as you didnt look away from his face admiring your nude shape. “…I love you…”

You instinctively sucked your bottom lip trying not to break into a smile, but it failed. He smiled with you, but it was weakened, “I love you more, Sanji. Always will.”

Your sweet response made his cock twitch and his cheeks a bright pink, he cleared his throat and hopped off the bed. Your smile turned into a crooked one trying to follow where he was going.

“What are-—“

“Just play with yourself for me.”

You, being so obedient now shut your eyes slowly to play with your slit, it was unbearably soaked. You were still so sensitive you held your thighs together mewling softly for your man to come back to you already.

You felt a dip in the bed, opening your eyes to see Sanji fiddling with his tongue with one hand,

“Baby.” He smiles at you sweetly noticing your confused staring, your eyes widen to see the pretty jewelry in his tongue as he stuck it out at you making him chuckle.

“You never told me you had a tongue ring!” You laid back down as sanji hovered back over you.

Sanji looked so attractive with that piercing.

“It’s fake, but…if you want I can get a real one.” He pecked his lips on yours before trailing his attention down back to your cunt. “Just let me clean you up.”

“But why the t—-ohhhhh shit!”

To your surprise the pretty piece of jewlery was a small toy as well. The cold small metal vibrated against your cunt as the tip of his tongue ghosted around your hole. Sanji pressed his entire mouth onto your slit as he pushed your hips down into him.

It was sensory overload, the sucking, the licking the vibration it was all too much for your mind to wrap around.

Strips of drool slid down your cheek, vision once again blurred from tears, the overstimulation of it all had your back arched off the bed, nails clawing into his sheets.

“SSSSSSHIT SANJI!”

“Mmmhm.” Was all he hummed inside you, eyes shut, he felt so at ease tasting his and your cum mixing in his mouth to swallow. He moved his right hand to press down at your lower tummy as you came. The pressure caused your eyes to roll back nearly crying out, his name bouncing off the walls again in addition with his as he began to stroke his cock to cum with you.

Sanji took one last suckle to your clit to ride out your orgasm, pulling off of it with a satisfied popping sound. He sat up on his knees between your legs delicately.

“I know baby.” He pulled out the tongue ring to place on the nightstand as well. “I know.." You felt his sweaty palms massage your slippery thighs. You looked breath taking to him your hands covering your face, chest moving up and down trying to steady the pace of your breathing

"How...about we take a bath....hm? One more for the night?"

All you can do was hum, throwing your arms down Sanji takes the opportunity to plant feathered kisses over your neck and face. It almost felt like a palate cleanser. Your body was relaxed under his touch, coming down your your high again. Body still trembling subtly and to your boyfriend's shame he bites his lip at the effect he had on you.

"You okay? Was....I too ro--MMPH!"

You pulled Sanji down by his neck again for another kiss. Words couldn't describe how turned on you were of this "new side" of Sanji. The kiss got so messy his arms began to shake trying to hold himself up eventually letting go and having the last bit of strength you had to roll over on top of him, hand on his cheek to chin, moaning into his mouth as he did the same to you.

"F-fuck." Sanji huffed admiring the small glint of saliva still connecting you and him together. "I guess I wasn't rough huh?"

"You were perfect, Ji...Thank you."

You bury your face in his neck to hug his sweaty body, soaking in his scent, ugh you couldn't get enough of this man and he couldn't get enough of you.

"I love you, Ji."

He paused for a moment, he won't ever get used to your beautiful voice telling him such words. Seems unbelievable sometimes, but he held you close, peppering your shoulder. He could bask in this moment forever with you.

"How bout we take that bath huh."

"Yes, sir." You meant no sexual intent behind it but your felt his hands squeeze your bottom so roughly your jerked up from his neck to giggle.

He placed a blanket over your worn body and threw on some sweats to head back to the bathroom. Your mind was frazzled.

He set up the bathroom even prettier than his room, you both relaxed with soft music going in the back as you played with your man's rings in the tub.

"You hungry?"

"A little." You giggle already expecting Sanji to get out the tub to prep you a meal.

"Well when we finish I can make you whatever you like, my love."

"Thank you." You kissed his knuckles and he returned the favor with a kiss on your neck earning him a small whimper out of you.

This was exactly what you craved . What he desired. Sanji was a new man in your eyes---even better actually. There really was never a time you questioned his masculinity you always knew about his dominant side, but to see it here in bed was... amazing.

Sanji on the other hand fell more in love with you. The words you said was the push he needed.

[joeynumbr1]

if you and clown were both drenched in oil and completely naked, who would win the twerk off??

WHAT THE FUCK KINDA QUESTION IS THIS ????

Me . Obviously .

[mychlapci]

I woke up thinking about some vivid, nasty Tarma this morning and it won't leave my head,,,

Pharma and Tarn go about business as usual: hand over the t-cogs, frag, and then part ways. This time, however, Tarn does something and locks Pharma's panels as he's leaving. The medic doesn't think much of it at first, just assumes it's something kinky.

It quickly becomes apparent that it's a problem. No matter what Pharma does, he can't unlock them himself. He tries every trick in the book and they still won't budge, still locked tightly in place! Pharma's getting really anxious by now, he doesn't know what to do next... and he really has to piss. The urge to empty his waste tank keeps growing stronger and stronger, and he's stuck uncomfortably holding it behind his panels. The pressure building up inside is unbearable, and Pharma is physically unable to relieve it! Poor guy probably ends up with an intense UTI from holding it so long...

To make matters worse (and because I love robot periods) Pharma's cycle starts a few days after his panels are locked. The pressure in his frame and fluids dripping uncontrollably behind his panels are driving Pharma insane. Forget about work, all he wants to do is lie in berth all day, desperately trying to pry open his panels. Still, his patients (and more importantly Tarn) need him, so he begrudgingly pushes on and keeps working through the terrible pain and pressure in his frame. Pharma even manages to collect well above his quota on t-cogs, hoping it'll impress Tarn and get him to unlock his panels.

The next time they meet, Tarn can't help but smirk at the disheveled mess that Pharma's been reduced to. Tarn is indeed satisfied with the amount of t-cogs collected, and with how Pharma is begging him for release how could he possibly say no? Finally, finally Tarn unlocks the poor medic's panels and stares with intense lust as the medbay floor is showered with energon and oil. Pharma should probably be mortified, but at this point he's too relieved to be embarrassed.

Tarn takes Pharma then and there, bending him over a medical berth and watching as Pharma's valve squirts out more energon and oil with each thrust of Tarn's fat spike.

Ough... that is all.

-💚💙

holy fucking shit the moment i got to the word piss i started frolicing, squealing in happiness. Yes. this is so good.

Tarn locking Pharma’s panels so tightly that nothing can leak out, no matter what. And slowly, as the days go by, and Pharma’s waste tank fills up, it becomes a really big problem. And then his flushing cycle comes in too, so he’s always in pain now, unable to relieve himself in any way whatsoever. He’s pretty sure his waste tank is going to rupture if this keeps on going, because the fluids just don’t have anywhere to go, and his gestation tank is bleeding and it’s pooling in his panels, mixing with what little waste-fluid fit in there. What cannot leak out is partially suspended inside of his valve, putting mild pressure against the calipers, driving him insane. First Aid and Ambulon keep asking him if he’s alright when they see him stumbling and all he can do is grit his teeth and say yes of course.

By the time Tarn is back Pharma’s standing pigeon toed and shivering with the intense pulses that wreck his waste tank every few minutes, telling Tarn to please unlock his panels. hrghhrhnh Pharma immediately pissing himself the moment his panels open, without even a moment’s hesitation, a hard hot sizzling stream hitting the floor as he experiences bliss beyond overload, humping the air desperately. Tarn considers that an invitation <3 He fingers Pharma’s valve open while he’s still bleeding and pissing, drenching his hand completely, and then he starts fucking Pharma against the medical berth, brushing his fat, modded spike against Pharma’s waste tank from the inside with each thrust, causing him to squeal, wings fluttering, and he squirts out more oil, pussy bleeding around Tarn while clinging to him desperately <33

Pharma and Tarn would be into period sex, wouldn’t they?

[buwheal]

what are personally your favorite spamton headcanons?

OOooooh this was the wrong thing to ask me if you hate lots of letters on your screen. Get ready!!!!!! Here's my list :-) Its not organized by least to most btw im just typing everything i like lol :

puppetification theory.. AAUUUGHHH!!!!! this one is so much fun for so many reasons.

he's got a BJD (ball jointed doll) body

He's kinda an asshole

While a good chunk of his glitching is from puppetification, way more of it is from malware he's collected over like 20 years on the streets of cyber city

He absolutely feels and is aware of his glitches but he's so used to them it doesnt really bother him anymore. scratch that, it 100% does bother him that his body is actively defying him. but what can you do? :shrug:

he's like 5'1. I HATE HATE HATE seeing him the size of a toddler both because you can literally see his world sprite is the same height as kris, which is a teenager (His proportions just are unbelievably fucked up because of puppetification) and because thats just kinda weird. Something about making him so so small feels weird to me but im not sure, really. take it with a grain of salt.

He was an Email Addison. You see it everywhere. He was like a mailman or something.

He wasnt like four foot or something throuhghout his whole life, but i do imagine he was only slightly smaller than an Addison, which doesnt sound that bad except when you realize everyone else is normal height except him. Maybe it was a manufacutring bug, or maybe it was intentional for his job.

Addisons are like weird organic robots kinda. Cause everything in cyber city is made of code i imagine they are like basically sentient AI.

They (addisons) physically do not age unless their code is damaged. (Guess who's code is fucked up) They were "born" physically and half-mentally adults, and count their age based on their manufacturing date. I say mentally half because it quickly develops soon after while they do things like advertise. Their personality develops a time after.

HE IS OLD!!!!!!! HE'S AN OLD GUY!! HES GOT LITTLE WRINKLES N SHIT!!! HES GOT A GREY STRIPE!!!!!! Not really because of physical aging but its more of like a glitch tbh lol. Like a chunk glitch in minecraft. Whatever happened as his code got progressively more beat up caused a patch of his hair to register incorrectly and show up slightly wrong.

His hair is natrually white. He dyed it in his big shot era ofc, but it faded out. He keeps it colored currently with car oil and shit. Whatever he can find that will color it. It will and does wash out partially when he's drenched in the rain.

He completely refuses to acknowledge his physical changes. Glimpses he sees he ignores or passes it off as he's seeing things.

He prayed to the Neo robot because he saw the beginning of puppetification. He was praying for forgiveness or another chance. He believed it was a divine punishment because he had no other explination. He doesnt believe he changed much more than the very very early stages, and he thinks he's forgiven in his delusion. Which is why he wants the robot so bad.

When he gets mad he turns kinda red and steam comes out the side of his head in short bursts, train whistle sound effects and all. looney tunes type junk.

He has lips... but they're stretched so far because of his huge fucking brick ass teeth that it doesnt really matter at that point.

He's got a scraggly ass mullet.

he has little bitty dot eyes. Every other addison does too but they keep them closed for visual appeal. Theyre robots and shit they dont really need them to get around, even though they help a lot.

Thats about all i can think of rn!!!! ^_^ hope you enjoy that brick of text lol.

[praetorqueenreyna]

lovely and lonely, Tamlin/Lucien, Chapter 18

Summary: a shift in his relationship inspires Tamlin to begin sending his sentries across the wall again.

Click here to read on AO3, or continue reading below!

48 years after the curse

Lucien never truly grew used to Tamlin’s beauty. Especially when it was just the two of them and he let his glamour fall. He was radiant, a godlike being plucked out of the most reverential myths. It was a sacrilegious miracle that he, deformed as he was, had permission to touch him, let alone everything else they did together.

Tamlin’s eyes were closed, making it easier for Lucien to admire him. His head lolled back, braced against one of Lucien’s thighs. They had just finished a bath, dirty and exhausted from their work patrolling the borders of Spring. At Lucien’s insistence, Tamlin rested himself between Lucien’s legs, the Autumn male sitting on the edge of the bath with the High Lord sitting on a low shelf in the water. It was the perfect position for Lucien to groom Tamlin’s wild mane. Tamlin never did more than wash it with harsh soap and brush it out, which Lucien considered a travesty. Tamlin grumbled over the long minutes Lucien spent in meticulous care of vanity, but he allowed the indulgence all the same.

At the end of the routine, Lucien was massaging oil into Tamlin’s scalp. His fingernails scraped behind one of Tamlin’s ears, which got the High Lord purring contently. Lucien bit back a laugh; if Tamlin thought that he was being made fun of, he would stop. And Lucien so loved the delighted rumble that reverberated through Tamlin’s chest, making the water around him ripple with the vibrations.

“All done,” Lucien finally announced. Tamlin turned and hoisted himself out of the pool, practically spilling into Lucien’s lap. Before Lucien could complain about being splashed with bath water, Tamlin was kissing him. His mind completely emptied as Tamlin pressed his back against the cool marble of the bathroom floor. Their lovemaking was slow and lazy, a deep sensual push and pull. Hours, days, or even weeks might have passed by and Lucien would be none the wiser. He would gladly spend eternity here.

Afterwards, Tamlin pressed a series of chaste kisses along the column of Lucien’s neck and down his shoulder. “I love you,” he mumbled against Lucien’s sweat-slick skin.

Despite the heat, Lucien froze, ice cold water drenching his soul and shocking his senses. Neither of them had ever said those words to each other. Despite their past fifty years together, Amarantha’s curse had hung over them, tainting everything they had together. It had been an unspoken rule not to say it, knowing that any moment, Tamlin would have to give his heart to another. Even as the terms of the curse drew to an end, they hadn’t said it. To say it would be a harsh reminder that they were running out of time. That they could never truly belong to each other.

Too late, Lucien realized he had been staring blankly up at Tamlin. Something in those green eyes shattered, and he looked away. “Shit, I’m sorry, I—”

Lucien forestalled any unwanted apology by pulling Tamlin down to him, kissing him fiercely. “I love you,” he whispered against Tamlin’s teeth. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

**********************************

The next day, Tamlin began sending out his sentries across the wall. They were confused but elated, pleased to be doing something as the deadline of their destruction drew nearer. Only Lucien knew. That heated exchange on the marble floor had ignited something in Tamlin. He had to fight, now that he had something worth saving. It was terrifying to know that all of this was for Lucien. Even as his comrades were slain one by one, he couldn’t help but selfishly be glad that Tamlin was trying again.

The dam had broken and the flood rushed forth. They said “I love you” a hundred times a day. Tamlin fucked him as if he thought Lucien would dissolve under his fingertips. Soon enough, all of their bedding was torn to shreds from Tamlin’s claws sinking into the mattress as he came, groaning “I love you” into Lucien’s throat. This too was terrifying; Tamlin seemed to be saying goodbye, intent on leaving his mark on Lucien so that when they were inevitably separated, Lucien wouldn’t forget him.

As if he ever could.

Eventually, there were three: Tamlin, Lucien, and Andras. Brave fool that he was, Andras went out every day across the wall. He refused to let Lucien be the sacrificial lamb. “You’re basically the only thing keeping this court running. I’m a dumb grunt. I’m replaceable,” he laughed whenever Lucien pleaded with him to stop. Empty words; they all knew the real reason. Andras loved Tamlin, and knew that he’d be devastated if Lucien were killed.

Against all odds, Andras lasted a full month. Every morning, he would kneel before Tamlin, the general of an extinct army. Tamlin would solemnly lay his hand on his forehead, infusing him with shapeshifting magic until the fae was replaced by a wolf. Lucien thought there should be more ceremony to the whole thing, but Andras refused. He didn’t want them to act like it was their last moments together.

They were in Tamlin’s office when it happened. Even with the world in ruins, there was still bullshit paperwork to go over. Lucien was going over a proposal for some agricultural reform, fingers kneading against his temples as he tried to decipher the dry, complicated prose. He glanced up to ask Tamlin a question, only for the words to die in his throat. Tamlin was staring off in the middle distance, face slack with shock. It could only mean one thing.

“He’s gone, isn’t he?” Lucien asked pointlessly. Grief overwhelmed him. After all he had experienced, he hadn’t known that he could still hurt like this. He really hadn’t ever expected Andras to die. Andras was strong and dependable as a redwood tree, growing straight and true for centuries. He had been the first friend that Lucien had made in Spring. When Lucien’s heart was broken, pining over Tamlin, he had shared his bed to ease the pain. Lucien could still feel the touch of chapped lips and beard stubble against his cheek, warm calloused hands holding him tight. And now he was dead.

“He’s gone,” Tamlin echoed. “He was killed by a woman.”

Lucien’s heart stopped. Almost every other sentry had been killed by humans who didn’t fulfill the terms of the curse. He had already assumed the same had happened for Andras, and was preparing himself to begin going across the wall. It seems he didn’t need to. “A woman?”

“A young, human woman. With hatred in her heart.” Tamlin’s gaze was still unfocused, still with Andras, in that connection that only the High Lord could have with his subjects. Unbeknownst to him, tears began to fall.

This was happening. Lucien rose to his feet, speaking in a steady voice that didn’t betray the tumult of emotions in his heart. “I’ll have Alis prepare a room.”

[i-write-boop-spoops]

Down by the river - Volo x F!Reader (Smut)

not a request, just horny for volo i guess lol - 2.1k words, not proofread

features: volo being delusional, female/afab reader, reader is from the present (NOT AKARI), voyeurism, volo being a bit of a pervert, oral (f! receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, mention of breeding but it doesn't actually occur, friends to friends with benefits, fucking in a tent

He finds you down by the river.

Drenched, uniform clinging to your skin, hair heavy and dripping, a still-smoking pokeball in your hand – no doubt the cause of your misfortune.

You’re happy to see him despite your state, you always are, you greet him with a big smile. He’s happy to see you too.

He invites you back to his camp, offers you dry clothes and shelter. And you happily accept, after all your nearest basecamp is much too far, especially with the already setting sun.

Upon arriving to his tent, he lights an oil lamp and ushers you inside. How cold you must be, how uncomfortable. You were shivering the whole way to his tent; you need to get out of those clothes.

As you undress, he uses twine to fashion a clothesline between two nearby trees, and has his Arcanine start a hearty fire. A pile of wet clothes begins to grow outside the tent, he goes to collect them right as you drop what appears to be your last item on top.

He pauses. That must be your undergarments.

Cloying heat pools in his groin, his cheeks flushing in soft pink heat, as he stares down at them. He’d heard you’d spent whatever you could spare on getting ‘modern’ garments tailored, is this one of them? They’re nothing like what he’s seen, they’re lacy, black, and revealing, juxtaposed by little pink bow.

Wait a second. Does this mean?

You're sitting naked in his tent right now.

His cock stirs in his trousers, pitching a tent. What a vision you must be, skin all wet and shiny, what a goddess.

All that separates you is that heavy canvas, he wants to tear that flap open, he wants to look, wants to know if you fit the image he has of you.

Even in loose fabric, his cock feels caged, aching to be let out and tended to. Would you be long? Would he have enough time to pleasure himself without you knowing? Would you notice if your undergarments went missing for a while?

Ugh, the fire in his loins is causing him to sweat much more than the fire beside him. He feels so unbelievably hot, so unbelievably aroused, He has to do something – anything to quell this, quench this.

He holds his breath and pulls back the tent-flap and peeks inside. There you are, kneeling on his bedroll, completely bare and utterly gorgeous. The oil lamp’s flames kiss your curves, your nipples already pert from the cold. Your knees are parted in such a way he can see your beautiful cunt. He licks his lips. 

You are every inch the vision he expected you to be.

He drinks you in, like a man parched, eyes unsure where to rest as each part of you sparks his fancy. He reaches downward, ready to enjoy this glimpse of you for as long as he can.

Then your eyes meet.

You’ve caught him, almost red-handed, a moment later and his hand would have been down his trousers.

You stare at each other in stunned silence for what seems like an age. His brain is scrambling for some kind of semi-reasonable, believable excuse for his unquestionably inappropriate behaviour. Usually, he’s so good at worming his way out of these situations, but he’s never been caught out in such a comprising way.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," you eventually coo, at first he thinks you might be joking, but your sultry, expectant gaze and refusal to cover yourself beg to differ.

Of course you want to see him naked, you've been eyeing him up since the moment you met. Relief washes over him – he hesitates to think of how things could have gone had you not been so agreeable.

He joins you in his tent, and like you have already done, starts to disrobe. He watches in glee as you lean in and admire the pale, lean muscles of his arms and chest.

Your gaze then fixates on the bulge in his trousers, it only serves to make it twitch. "May I?" you ask, reaching for the drawstring. He nods, and your fingers come to untie the knot. The fabric loosens around his waist, enough so that you can free his cock from its prison.

Your eyes light up at the reveal, in satisfaction and lust, and even a little fear. He likes that.

He leans in to kiss you then, capturing your soft lips in a passionate kiss. He’s dreamed of doing this since… since the moment he first laid eyes on your beautiful lips.

A part of him wishes your first kiss occurred under more romantic circumstances, another more pressing part relishes in the chance to have all of you at once.

He cups your warm cheeks, and presses his mouth harder against yours. In turn, your fingers tug at his bun, and pull it undone, it cascades down his back. You tear away from him for a moment.

“I always wondered what you looked like with your hair down,” you mention, running your fingers through a lock of his hair, “You’re so beautiful.”

He smiles shyly. He knows that to be true already, but to hear you say it, makes his heart flutter.

As a reward, he kisses you again, with more passionate this time. He finally lets himself touch you… finally skim his fingers along your hips. Your soft flesh is cold, still a little damp. No matter, he’ll have you plenty warm soon.

He guides you to lay down on his bedroll, and takes his place on top of you, pushing some of his hair away to avoid tickling your sweet face.

He kisses your neck, you mewl so sweetly in response. He’d love to bite you there, leave his mark on you… but not now. His lips move down to your breasts, he pecks and nips at them, so soft and warm, he can hear your heart pound under them.

He reaches your stomach, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. You’re soft here too – he can’t get over how utterly divine your body is.

Down again he goes, using his hands, he keeps your thighs apart. Your cunt, rosy and glistening, stares back at him, he licks his lips again.

At the realisation of what he’s about to do, you practically squeal in delight. He chuckles at your excitement, emboldened by it.

He kisses your clit first, already swollen by anticipation, and moves down to lap at your folds. Admittedly, he’s not quite sure what to do, what is best to make you come – not that he isn’t willing to try. He listens to your sounds, pays attention to the movement of your hips and thighs, gauging what you like best.

“There! There!” you cry as his lips latch onto your clit, you grab a fistful of his hair to keep him there. He slips a finger inside effortlessly, you are just so wet. His cock twitches at the thought of being inside you. He curls his finger upward, and your hips buck into his face.

He’s struck gold – he sucks on your clit as he continues to curl his finger over and over again, coaxing an orgasm out of you. Your thighs squeeze his face, fingers tugging on his hair as you cry to the moon and let the pleasure wash over you.

He lets go of your clit, and removes his finger, choosing instead to lap at your folds again, catching your sweetness on his tongue. When your shuddering ceases – when the tugging on his hair turns to languid stroking, he stops, and sits up. You gaze at him with appreciative, but still wanting eyes.

“Are we going to fuck or what?” you ask bluntly, and he has to stop himself laughing from the shock. You can be so vulgar.

To punish you for speaking to him like that, he grabs your thighs and pulls you towards him roughly. You yelp in surprise, and he wastes no time in positioning himself to enter you.

It’s funny, this morning, this afternoon, even the moment he found you down by the river, he would have never thought you two would end up in bed so soon. He had planned months of courting, even willing to wait until he had married you to lay with you. You really are from a different time.

Slowly, slowly, he glides into you, letting you get accustomed to, and indulge in, every inch of him. You let out this beautiful, drawn-out moan of his name.

You feel nothing short of heaven around him. So warm, so wet, so divine. He bites his lip, unable to fathom how he could ever wait longer for such exquisite pleasure.

He draws back, letting his cock drag inside you until he pushes in again picking up the pace just a tad. With each thrust, he moves into a more substantial rhythm, and has you whining his name for it.

He wonders, briefly, if he's your first - probably not, you have little difficulty taking his size, little shame about bedding him. It sickens him to know he hasn’t claimed your purity, he’ll have you forget whoever did.

With that thought in mind, his hips slam into yours - you cry out his name. “Do that again!” you plead in a moan, fingers digging into his shoulders.

Oh, you like it rough? Why is he not surprised, he’s sure you long for him to wreck you as much as he does. That’s for another time however, first he wants to ease you into laying with him, enjoy your first time together.  

He keeps his hips at that harsher pace though, fingers grasping your hips, not hard enough to bruise, despite how much he’d like to.

You squeal and moan, breath ragged. You look so perfect like this, flustered and sweaty and needy for him.

Are you about to reach your peak?

He thinks so – your thighs clamp around him as you throw your head back and chant his name like a prayer. He can feel you convulse around him, feel your spasms massage his cock as you come undone by it.

As you come down from that high, eyes glazed over in pleasure, he keeps going. After all he has his own high to chase.

Oh, how he longs to spill his seed inside you, have you bear the fruit of your bond, but not now - not when this world still exists. He will get you those herbs the women in the village take as precaution for next time.

Feeling how close he is, how imminent his orgasm is, he pulls out of you, you whine like a spoiled princess denied. He wraps his hand around his cock and starts to stroke, using your slick as lubrication. He doesn’t have to do so for long, not a moment later and he’s shooting thick ribbons of cum all over your stomach.

And you just lie there, and take it, like a whore - he loves that.

He pants and falls beside you, basking in that sweet, sinful haze.

“Cheers,” you murmur after a while. What a peculiar response, but he supposes you're from a different time, perhaps this is standard procedure.

Once he can muster the strength to, he gets you a rag of some sort to clean yourself off, and to prevent any dripping on his bedroll. You wipe it off your stomach.

"Would you like me to go?" you ask as you hand him back the rag.

With your clothes not even hung up to dry yet, he can't possibly send you away. He wouldn't want to anyway, he wants you here, with him, your soft and warm body against his.

He insists you stay in bed as he changes back into his trousers and leaves the tent. He hangs up your clothes to dry too, hopefully the wind will hurry the process along. He cooks up a meal of magikarp and rice, it’s not much, but some hot food will do you both good.

You slip into his coat and join him by the fire, you look so cute in his clothes. You happily, gratefully scarf down your meal, and regale him with stories of your day – apparently it was a Gyrados that caused you so much trouble earlier. He’s never been more thankful for such a beast.

Once you turn in for bed, he holds you close all night. How perfect you fit in his embrace, he never wants to let go.

When you do finally leave the next morning, well at that point, afternoon, after changing back into you now dry uniform and sharing some porridge and berries for breakfast, you make sure to give him a languid, tongue-filled kiss, a thanks of sorts, he thinks.

“Let’s do this again sometime,” you murmur after you part. He grins and nods, already planning how you would spend your next night together.

[clown-fromthe-sewers]

In All My Dreams I Drown

Sailor Au!Eden x Reader (songfic kinda?? Idk)

Warnings: Canon typical sex, referenced violence(not from Eden), dubcon/noncon, hallucinations(?), and a slight breeding kink(fuck you lizzy, deal with it), gender neutral/no pronouns, but fembodied reader. More under the bar.

It was storming, a nasty, howling and terrifying, making visions of the past whirl in your mind, full of only horror of the remembrance. The ship, it swayed, 'heave-ho, heave-ho's dripping from the deck, the sole other occupant getting to work for the night on ensuring the safety of the vessel for the time he'd be asleep, with you, on the dark and stormy blue.

The barks of the repeated word came to a stop and you could hear something other than the storm for once: his booted feet stomping below deck, followed soon by the slamming of the wooden door against the wall, both water-damaged and swelled from the weather. He was drenched in it, the storm having saturated his usually curly brown hair into a matted mess of glistening black, water pooling on his scruff like morning dew on grass, his face shining in the dim light. The wrinkle between his furrowed brows disappears at the sight of you, his shoulders relaxing as he made way to his bed, you laying there, wrapped only in his fur blankets.

"You haven't slept," he said, "in many suns and moons," he observed, though it was more like a command.

"Oh, I will sleep when we reach shore, and pray we get there soon-" you begin to protest, sitting up in the bed as the blankets fell from your body, exposing your breasts with the furs covering your lower half only, the necklace you wore falling between your cleavage. He interrupts you, digging through a drawer nailed into the wall of his cabin.

"Now hush love, here's your gown," he began, bringing forth a scanty white dress, lacy, and it looked as if it would come only to your mid thigh. "There's the bed-" He nods to you, as if to make his demands all the more obvious, "-lanterns down." His eyes drift to the oil lamp beside the bed, glowing in orange and red, casting deep shadows on everything the light could reach.

"But I don't want to go to sleep," you started, a dismayed grimace falling in place on your lips. Once more, you are cut off by him, he repeated the protest you'd said over and over your stay on the vessel.

"In all your dreams you drown," said he, an almost condescending tone to the words spoken in his deep voice. He strode over, demandingly shoving the gown to your breast, his hot hand making contact with your freezing skin, warmth finding you and making you relax despite your anger and apprehension toward this sailor.

You snatch it away, drawing it over your head and shoulders. It fell the rest of the way, covering your naked flesh that had begun to prickle at the exposure to cold once you'd been removed of the furs. Leaning back on the mattress, the back of your head colliding softly with the partially rotten wood of his boat, completely missing the look of desire that gleamed in his eye, the shine disappearing into the darkness when he snuffed the oil lamp.

"I'm going to enjoy this," he drawled, the words sending a spike of fear down your spine.

Eyes darting to his, you started once more to put up a fight, but the exhaustion weighed you down, keeping your movements sluggish and weak. Before you even began, you gave up, allowing Eden to take his place above you. As he peeled the blanket from your lower half, he let loose a growl, licking his dry lips, sweet with rainwater and salt from working deck all day, his pupils expanding to consume all of the hazel, leaving only a ring of green and brown around the black.

"It's time you go to sleep," he growled. Eden ripped open his pants, his ramshackle coat following suit to display the muscle built up from his time on the sea, then used his massive hands, reinforced by the masses of muscle behind on his bulging arms, to heft your hips up to his own, your legs hanging from his thighs.

Your calves interlap behind his back, crossing to bring him in closer as you felt the tent that came from his pelvis, kept trapped only by the white, threadbare briefs he wore, barely doing their purpose with how worn they were. You jolt as a clap of thunder sounded, unexpected without the flash of lightning. The fear triggers a vision of that pale, ivory figure and the shoving, rocking of a makeshift boat, laughs of children turning into screams of terror-

"Now hush love," whispered Eden, cooing as he stroked your cheek. "Here's your gown," he repeated, reminding you of your place, "There's the bed, lantern's down." His voice was the softest you'd heard it, placing a tender kiss to your lips after he spoke to remind you not only of your place, but to silently tell you of what you'd grown to be over the time you spent on his ship. It was like a dream with how slow everything moved, like it was all submerged in the thickest molasses. But you don't want to go to sleep, in all your dreams you drown.

"Captain! Captain," you cried for his attentions as he pulled the clothing down which restricted him, exposing himself to you and wetting his length in your arousal, "I will do your chores! I will warm your cot at night, and mop your cabin floors." Your voice was soft and begging, teary eyes staring up as you quiver beneath him. Your hands find his forearms, fingers dainty by comparison digging into his flesh. "Scold me! Hold me; I'll be yours to keep! The only thing I beg of you: don't make me go to sleep."

The next thing that leaves his mouth is a chuckle, then he leans over, nipping along your collarbone to under your ear, blowing hot air on your neck and making goosebumps bloom to the surface and your eyes closeon reflex. The sky flashed with lightning once more, the blood red moon barely exposed through the black, ravenous clouds sparking the visage of Eden's vessel sinking, the sheets lacing between your legs as the boat was rent and felled; Eden's in the water headed to the mouth of hell.

You're snapped from the lull as a roiling wave crashed against the side of the boat, making you in the bed and into Eden, he letting loose a groan of appreciation when he felt your warm, wet arousal on his engorged length. He positions himself at your entrance, leaking and tight in your virginity.

A growl is wrenched from his chest, throaty and deep and barbaric as he slid into you, leaving you to gasp as you felt a nauseating pinch deep within you, your hymen ripping and signaling your loss of innocence. He pants as he bottoms out, letting you adjust to the size of him for a few moments only before he was pulling out, slowly pushing himself back into your tender depths. His cock was smattered in in blood, but the new feeling gnawing at your gut blocked the gruesome sight from bothering you much at all.

The pillow fall from beneath your head, toeing to the brink of the cot with each rock of his hips that sent you jolting upwards, his thrusts increasing in speed each time he bottomed out. Your arms wrap around his neck and brought him down, your heels pressing at his ass to meld him into yourself. Moans from you, the sailor and the sea were accompanied by the groans of the cot, each thrust making it protest under your combined weight.

"Eden," you choke out when his stubbled jaw met your sensitive neck, his lips laying kisses and nips on your skin, painting a picture of his desire and leaving you mewling below him, falling into whatever he wished. "I need-" you couldn't get much else out, a gasp pulled from your chest that surprised even you when the head of his cock hit something inside which you'd never felt before.

Eden's lips found yours, locking in a lethargic kiss, bruising with each slow movement he made against you, a moan swallowed up between you as your first kiss was taken so passionately, something so surprising in a town such as this one.

Eyes rolling back in your head, you could feel the upbeat of all his rocks into you, stealing away breaths and letting a symphony of lewd noises and creaks sound through his cabin. His thumb fell to your clit as he pulled away from your lips, pupils blown as he trailed his gaze from the line of saliva connecting the two of you to your eyes, staring deep into you soul as he flicked at your sex, watching you break apart under his ministrations.

Your hand falls away from his shoulder, carmine staining the pads of your fingers and beneath your nails, grasping at his free hand and interlacing your dainty fingers with his calloused and work worn ones. A whining moan falls from his lips at that, his brows furrowing and his muscles clenching, hoping to hold back the high that threatened to end him then and there. His thumb hastens, pressing harshly against your nub and making that heat burn within like a fire, the coiling rope pulling taut until finally- it snaps, your vision blanking as a wailing moan comes forth, not only from you but also the wind whipping at the ship with the intense desire to sink you and Eden beneath the gnashing and moaning waves.

You finish with a clap of thunder, making the sight of a pale ivory figure overtake you mind, a hot feeling blooming in your innards with each spurt of Eden's searing seed.

Eden's berth rocked into you for a few moments after, releasing the rest of him in you with a quiet, drawn out groan, the sound bordering on either pain or satisfaction. The pillow falls from the edge as a result, a thump amidst the screeching wind and the tandem voices gasping for breath after such exertion.

"Good," Eden pants as he pulled out, drawing himself away from you and sitting on his heels to look on your spent form leaking his spend. Lazily, he pushed it back in your tender hole, you cringing at the sensitive flesh being agitated again. When he was finished, he brought the finger to your mouth, making you lap up the essence of your debauchery until he was atisfied with the cleanliness of the digit, pulling it from your lips with a breathless hum.

Eden crawls beside you and collapses, arms needily wrapping around your waist and drawing you close to him, and placing a chaste kiss to your bare shoulder, tucking himself close your body to sleep.

"It's time you go to sleep," he grumbles in that deep voice of his, the usual grimace adorning his face.

"Eden," you start to mumble again, but you're cut off once more by Eden.

"Hush now, hush love, heres your gown-" He tugs gently at the thin cloth of your night dress, then smooths his hand over the fur blanket, pulling it onto the both of you, "There's the bed, lantern's down," he reminded, whispering without thought.

"I'm begging you, please wake me up," you mumble, fatigue finally catching up when you couldn't even finish the last few words of the sentence you'd been relaying to him your entire stay, "In all my dreams I-" the rest of he sentence falling into oblivion, caught by the waves and breaking apart in their fury as you fell asleep, eyes closing slowly without even a yawn to warn you.

"Drown," he finished unbeknownst to you, clutching you tightly; that night, the first time since you'd been on the sea, you dreamt not of ivory, but warm brown consumed by black as sweaty curls of the same color dripped down rainwater from above, dotting your face in salty wetness.

So uh, that happened. Don't blame me, I was in a feverish haze for two days straight so I don't even know what this is.

[comraderomeo]

Where Skin Ends Ch. 4

Updated Every Other Thursday

links: ao3 masterpost

cw: appreciating a 'mech more than one should

“I don't give a fuck, Mat. Almost 50% unit casualties is still utter shit!”

“Oh, as if the rest of you were holding the line so well!”

“Despite being low on ammunition, I should have advanced to enter melee. I apologize.”

“You were fine, Ed. We're talking about the idiot who got almost a whole unit of SRM carriers wiped.”

“We stopped them, didn't we?”

“Again, not the fucking. point.”

“What's your problem?”

“I just don't like seeing my partner dressed down by some goddamn Great House lackey because one of us really shouldn't even be allowed in a ‘mech!”

“I think that may be hars-”

You don't hear the rest of Edward’s rebuttal on your behalf over the sound of internal whining and the stomping of boots carrying you out the door. The halls of the training facility now wind in ways you don't remember seeing on the way in, but you remain steadfast in leaving. There are various mercenaries and Lyran regulars scattered along your path. Much like you, they're all conditioned to leave people alone when they look like they’re in a hurry, which you're thankful for. However, in a hallway that has distinctly different signage to where you piloted your ‘mech, a voice calls out to you,

“Oh! Sergeant! Sergeant Rodin! Would you want to-”

The voice cuts off when you're far enough down the hall that it's clear you're not stopping. You figure it was Edward. He’s always asking you to dine with the lance after training out of some sort of chivalry. The facts that you're in a completely different part of the building and the voice had none of Edward’s practiced, noble diction are somehow irrelevant to you, but almost no one would have stopped you anyhow. Moments later, the red light of evening engulfs you. By now, the layout of the compound your lance has been trapped in has become familiar, so you make a straight line for the mercenary ‘mech bays. A quick flash of your ID lets you in.

You approach with a reverence that you show almost nothing else. The sharp beak of the Raven, the immutable class of the Shadow Hawk, the compact fury of the Trebuchet, and somehow standing above them all, the Hatchetman. She sits in a mess of scaffolding, still stunning despite Her armor remaining mostly stripped. You blush at the sight of Her exposed myomer and almost stutter at the approach of one of the company’s ‘techs.

“Yeah, sorry Sergeant. We've been delayed a good bit by parts shortages for your Hatchetman’s fusion engine. No word on when they'll be in just yet, but I'd say no less than two weeks.”

“Hm, right… Shouldn't you be off duty by now?”

“Huh? Well yeah, I was just about to call it when you came in, but figured you'd want the update.”

“Ah. Appreciated.”

The ‘tech nods and makes her way to clock out in the staff room, leaving you alone in the bays. You exhale and return to Her. She does call you, after all. You kneel at Her feet, looking up at the full height of your Jester. She doesn't return your gaze, instead choosing to stare into the middle distance. A flow of almost incoherent babbling threatens to spill out of your mouth, but you stifle it in your throat. It's better to not make yourself look like a cultist with more faith than sanity in a semi-public area, not that you have much good image left here regardless. With your pseudo-prayer finished, you rise to one knee then to standing again, so you can approach the ‘Mech. You stop at the outside of Her left ankle, and hover a hand over the exposed myomer, as if embarrassed to touch another being. Your palm slowly lowers on to the tight cords of synthetic muscle. It's still slightly damp from the oil that it usually is drenched in. You trace your fingers up the back of the ankle, only barely daring to brush the bottom of the dense bundles that make up Her Achilles tendon. You shudder with pleasure at the sensation, which most would say is cause for concern. You consider placing your whole self against the raw metal skeleton of Her foot, but the worry of someone coming in unannounced dissuades you. Instead, you return to front and center and let the babbling take over for a brief moment,

“I know you have to sleep to recover, My Love, but I miss your warm embrace more and more with each passing day. How else can I phrase it but a heart drowning in desire? No, not full of lust –that left us long ago– but full of appreciation, care, and love. Your steel is my ambrosia and-”

Since when do you fancy yourself worthy of soliloquising?

“I… nevermind.”

You lose the moment and fluster yourself in the recoil of it. What were you even saying? And, to whom were you saying it? A brief hardening of conviction halts this thought for just enough time that you blow a kiss to Her wide, stoic visage and say,

“Until next time, My Love.”

You want so badly to go up to the upper catwalk and open Her hatch and crawl into the command couch and curl up as best you can and stay there until your hunger forces you out. However, your cumulative embarrassment from the whole day is making you nauseous, and you would rather not start a trend of losing your lunch daily. 

Then, you hear it. It's too late to prepare, which you curse yourself for, but the echoing footsteps approach regardless. You hope for only a second that someone is just passing through, but they are almost certainly making directly for you. You tense. Breathe in sharply then out slowly. You spin in time with the exhale, hand grasping at your right hip. However, the sidearm isn't there and nor is the holster. Of course it isn't. You lost that privilege when you pulled a gun on Edward and earned a month or so of probation. You're struck with the sudden and immense sting of fear. What happened to the years of training and experience that had once steeled you? Gone. You let your guard drop, and now you're as good as dead. You finish the turn and are greeted by the form of Corporal Hannelore Geelen of the 57th Lyran Armored. You stare at her, almost dumbfounded. Then, in a desperate attempt to salvage something, you raise your hand from where the holster should be, forming your index and middle fingers into a barrel and thumb into a hammer. Finger gun aimed firmly at the intruder, you imitate the recoil and say “pew.” She laughs. You thank every godlike force you can imagine for her laughter. It returns to you a sense of normalcy that you need above all else. Despite that, you feel the need to prod,

“Why are you here, Corporal?”

“Oh, well, I tried to get your attention in the halls, but you ignored me, so I asked the rest of your lance where to find you, and they said you'd probably be here. They also sounded mad at you.”

“That doesn't explain how you got into the ‘mech bays.”

“I asked nicely?”

“Then I'll need to tell command to get a whole new security team.”

“Brutal… Uh, if it helps one of them is keeping an eye on me.”

She jabs a thumb toward the entrance you had taken a short while ago. Lo and behold, there's a Silver Wing security officer leaning against the wall, eyes firmly planted in your direction. He nods. You nod back, not that you know him.

“Fine then, what was so important that you had to come all this way to avoid me ignoring you.”

“Well, I wouldn't have gone through that much effort if you had just said no, but it'd be rude to not offer properly if you just didn't hear me, right?”

“Ok, and?”

“Do you want to eat at the cafeteria with me?”

And, after only a brief reprieve, you're sraring dumbfounded at the Corporal again.

“What?”

“Was that a weird question?”

“I… guess it isn't. I assume you mean with the rest of your unit?”

“No, they went to eat already.”

“Oh.”

You crave the courage and freedom to say no. The want to spend the evening on the fringe of consciousness alone in your room is especially strong tonight, but you promised yourself that behavior belongs in the past.

“Fine. It would be rude to say no after you went through all that pointless effort.”

“I've been told that's my specialty.”

“I also should count this as an additional apology for not living up to my promise to perform in the simulation.”

Now she had the chance to look dumbfounded at you.

“What? As far as I care you did great!”

“The only commentary I've heard is, ‘50% casualties.’”

“What? That's entirely not your fault! Koumans wouldn't know good tactics if it a- uh, I mean… it's his unit, so why would you have to take responsibility!?”

“I was tasked with covering them.”

“And, how is drawing fire from two assault ‘mechs not covering them?”

“I don't know.”

“I saw Koumans leave the treeline of his own volition while you were hatchet-deep in that Cyclops.”

By now, the two of you are nearing the door out of the bays. The security officer has seemingly left, after determining you know Hannelore. You banter about details of the simulation, from the Whitworth being annihilated by artillery fire to the extremely lacking simulators the armored units get. You find it nice, but primarily in how it distracts you. Next thing you know, you're drifting through the open air again. It's obvious the both of you are subconsciously wandering to take up more of the other's time, for one selfish reason or another.

Dinner is stew for the second time in the past week. The meat is tough from overcooking, but the potato is nice enough at an almost mashed consistency. You focus more on the food than your dining partner, and she does much the same. Her eating pace is a solid clip, though, so you're not nearly halfway done when she's scraping the bottom of the platter. The meal has been blissfully quiet before now. You welcome it, despite the fact you had enjoyed the conversation on the way over, so you watched her closely in anticipation for any sign of change. Hannelore dropped her utensil without ceremony and sat back comfortably in her chair. You know what comes next and brace mentally, which is a bit overdramatic. 

“So, what's being a merc like?”

You swallow a bite of potato.

“Why?”

“I don't know. I haven't been stationed with mercs really, and it seems like a whole different experience.”

“Alex or Ashe would probably have a better answer for you.”

“Well, I'm not eating with them, am I?”

You sigh. An answer is due; stop deflecting.

“It's hollow.”

“Hollow?”

“Right. The stereotype is always ‘heartless murderers who have no loyalty to anything but C-Bills.’ I won't say there's no basis for that. However, it's not that we don't value loyalty or want nothing but to wander. It's more that our intense independence means we aren't allowed the opportunity.”

The Corporal considers this thoughtfully.

“So, is there something you’d give that freedom up for?”

You chuckle. You'd rather scream, but you chuckle.

“Ha, not anymore.”

Here is where the thought should end. She should understand that you broke everything and this vagrancy is penance. Everything is in the past now; everything is no longer your domain. She doesn't understand, though, the fool.

“Well, maybe you'll find something again. There's always time.”

There isn't time. Time ran out long ago. You're just idling at the bottom of the hourglass, and you'd do best to remember that.

“Hm, maybe there is…”

I hate you.

[29pageshomestuckeveryday]

Homestuck, page 253

[S] YOU THERE. BOY.

Songs used: Showtime (Piano Refrain) by Kevin Regamey and Malcolm Brown, Harlequin by Mark Hadley Author commentary: this was a walkaround Flash page. You could move John around with the keyboard, click on things and choose commands. All options are shown in the book sequentially, thus making it a pointedly NON-interactive experience. But this really just means you don't have to click on stuff to read hidden words. They're visible already. When you look at it this way, interactive stuff isn't that amazing. Outcomes are hiding, and you have to go to the bother of unhiding them, which is kind of a chore. Life is interactive, which is among the reasons it's such a huge pain in the ass.

You would think that by designating an author-created reader/player to submit commands, the game would start moving along more smoothly. But, no.

This now somewhat resembles an old Nintendo Power strategy guide, with screenshots of the game and illustrations of the consequences of player actions. If this Flash game ever stumps you online, like you find yourself getting lost in the house, just take a peek in this book for some HOT TIPS, and you will be well on your way to becoming a Power Player. B)

11: Also, who wants to take a piss with that weird clown watching? I doubt John's cool with that.

15: John, please. The plot of Little Monsters is not foreshadowing the existence of mischievous imps in your house. It is CLEARLY foreshadowing the existence of an alien race called trolls about 2000 pages later. Get with the program!

16: Critical point #1: WV, the one typing the commands, knows who John Cusack is, which is weird even for Homestuck. (SEE: UNIVERSAL CONSTANT.)

20: Critical point #2: Dave is referring to the fact that the Ghostbusters are always getting drenched in a particularly mucilaginous brand of spooky slime in that movie, carrying sexual overtones which I think we're in agreement would be a shame and completely unnecessary to bring attention to under basically any circumstance.

22: Spoiler: John never does use the towel to clean up the oil in his room. I admit fully, I let that plot point get away from me.

28: "God dammit John, that isn't Michael Cera." Really long term spoiler: In an alternate universe, it literally is Michael Cera.

29: The way the gameplay worked out, most of the time the sprite would follow John so closely they would just overlap. That is one clingy clownsprite.

35: Yes, the cruxtruder is why he is housetrapped, and not the fact that his house is now confined to a small plateau towering over an abyss. Also, he can STILL go out through the back door! Homestuck is frequently host to some of the least literally homestuck children in the history of fiction.

38: "John: Exchange shitty figurines for palm of pennies and kick in the nuts. Transaction favors you overwhelmingly."

40: Hey, whoa, whoa… that last line about elderly wisdom. Foreshadowing anyone???

43: That case full of games: same one used by Death in Problem Sleuth. Wait! Did I make a note about that in the last book? Behold the inevitability of my befuddlement on such matters. I promise, you haven't seen the last of it. Probably half these notes will be me inadvertently repeating book one trivia.

47: Heh heh, John sure does irrationally hate Betty Crocker, the harmless baked goods corporation, doesn't he? Surely this is just a silly running gag and won't come back to haunt us in any significant way. Right? I mean… it just can't… could it? That would be blowing a gag way too far out of propo-oh fuck Crocker's gonna be last boss, isn't she.

51: In retrospect, it's pretty remarkable to examine the breadth of WV's basic understanding of things. He seems to know what a washer and dryer look like, and what they're for. And can give quality advice on when it is or isn't practical to launder your garments.

60: "Although, he doesn't know what a swing set is. Or damaged power lines. Or an electric meter. Or handcuffs. Or a kitchen." Maybe I spoke too soon.

64: "AUTHOR'S NOTE: RE: Cirque du Soleil. Best joke in Homestuck. You may now stop reading, and close the book."

65: Follow-up on the peanut allergy issue: I'm pleased to report it does in fact prove to be relevant later.

66: I like to picture dad first hanging that dumbass clown photo straight, looking at it for a while with a vaguely dissatisfied expression, and then tilting it.

76: In these early pages, particularly with the lonely and disquieting ambiance of the walkaround page, there was something that felt deeply troubling about all this strange harlequin shit. Ultimately, the edge was taken off somewhat when it turned out all clownish roads led to a stoned alien juggalo.

One thing the book doesn't do (or even the site most of the time) is convey how quickly all this stuff was made. This entire walkaround game was made in less than 24 hours, all drawn and written by me, and programmed by Gankro. When you have to write a large amount of text for many different user choices, you start to get very quippy and punchy to just get it all done. But then, that's sort of a stupid way to qualify these pages, since that is how literally every page in Homestuck was written, ever. And also all of these notes.

[lapeaudelamemoire]

End of day log:

- Did almost all the machine-wash laundry today. 3 loads, I think? Black clothes, some sheets and towels, and then some bathrobes that I could hang up. Just left with the light colours, non-black colours, and maybe more sheets if I manage to change them tomorrow.

I said 'almost all' but I mean almost all the laundry I had realised needed doing today, I guess. Whatever. It still feels that way to me.

- Took 2 fiber gummies and put some leave-in oil in my hair twice today - once this morning then once before bed, then braided my hair to keep it from tangling. Also finally picked the fuzz that was bothering me and I think making my skin even itchier, so hopefully that helps.

- Ate 2 leftover things (the doughnuts and leftover bit of curry-drenched rice).

- Also finally changed the bathmats that I kept forgetting about and tidied the bin areas a little.

- Drank 1 carafe of water and a bit.

Trying to plan/think about how I can make my living space more amenable to my ADHD but realising that it's tricky because I'm still very much figuring this out - this is still the first place I've furnished by myself and I don't drive and it's not like being in Sg where I could just ask my dad about things then.

- Oh also put chapstick on

Realising it really is nearly impossible when the day is completely unstructured and that I need to put in some structure.

Ughhhhhhh this is why I have been telling my partners throughout the years I would like to have a schedule set for me and have wanted a dom to make me keep to it ARGHHHGGHHHHHHHHHHYYYYHHHHHH

Fuck. I guess I really can never escape that I have to be that person for myself. *shakes self*

[harrison-abbott]

Little Bill was in his room watching The X-Files, with the curtains drawn. He hadn’t moved for several hours and the show helped him to zone out – and there was a lot for him to zone out for. Laura was downstairs in the living room looking at her phone; she’d recently posted on social media [a photo of herself with her new hair colour] and was nervous as to how many likes it would get. Mama Beedie was in the kitchen making some spinach and potato soup and smoking a cigarette. Some of the ash fell off onto the onions as they fried in the olive oil and she swore and got a spoon and took the ash out and forgot about it. On the radio they were talking about the government plans that would incriminate the climate protection policies they themselves had made … For drilling projects in the North Sea. Since some local election had swivelled their way somewhere in London because people disliked green policies and that’s why a candidate had won. Mama Beedie had long, long ago gone disillusioned with politics, and this was an old woman with her teeth needing removed. … Outside on the street the concrete on the roads had burst up in several places because of the flashing rains from the night before; the rain having swelled up the river from underneath the neighbourhood and pressurised the upper surface. Scary: it looked like something juggernaut had come along and punched the road in random plots, leaving black debris in piles. It was set to rain the entire week without abatement. The North Sea really wasn’t that far away from this city. Mama Beedie switched the radio off. She added the chopped potatoes. Far longer ago than when she’d given up with politics, her eyes had ceased watering from the sting of onions. She drank the cheap supermarket wine in little gluey sips. One of the reasons she’d never perished from alcohol yet was because she ate lots of foods like onions. She stood by the patio windows and looked out over the garden – the drenched bushes and sodden grass. It wasn’t windy and the rain was only a grey drizzle now, a slow drizzling, as if the whole garden was a painting or something in an arthouse movie where it looks glorious and nothing happens. It was odd how close the planet was to complete disaster in terms of the climate. And yet there were people like the Prime Minister who didn’t give a fuck. What could Mama Beedie do about it? Very little, it seemed.

[fearecia]

So, funny story. And by funny story, I mean "interesting anecdote."

I started taking accutane a little over a month ago. I'm in my 30s, and have suffered from the evil skin demons since my preteens. Okay, cool.

Something else I've suffered from for about as long is dandruff. What the hell does dandruff have to do with any of this? See, ever since the gods-be-cursed hormones struck, my hair got *greasy.* And I don't mean just a little bit, I mean "you looked like you drenched your head in olive oil if you don't wash your hair every 24 hours" greasy. It was bad, okay?

I tried everything to control the dandruff. Every over the counter option for treatment, every shampoo. Stylists told me I had a dry scalp because I washed too much; trying to back off on scrubbing out the oils made my scalp *itch like fucking crazy.* I tried moisturizing shampoos. Nothing helped.

I eventually figured out that my dandruff was because my oils *were literally eating my scalp.* No one believed me, but they stopped pushing products at me.

Enter accutane. That shit dries you out, man. Turns off the skin oil production completely. It's insane. And guess what? My dandruff is *gone.* No more flakes, no more sessions of madly scratching my scalp because it's driving me crazy. It's just... cured.

So yeah. If you have oily hair but a dry scalp, might literally be the oils eating your skin.

[wickermayne]

nsfw! Naruto/Hinata septadrabble!

Loosely based on @sessakag's fic, Prey.

Despite what her father taught her, Hinata knew better than to judge by appearances.

That being said, everything about Uzumaki Naruto kept her on high alert.

From his attitude, oiled and slick yet somehow blunt at the same time. He’d talk Hinata around in circles and throw her words back at her, always making her feel like she was in the wrong for being wary of him.

To the dangerous aura that exuded from him, a rough countenance and stacks of money that didn’t seem to be completely clean, if she trusted her intuition. There was always something in the depths of his eyes, potent and angry, Hinata lucky to never have seen it directed at her.

And then, of course, his body. His body, tall and towering, thick with strength. Shirts that always looked painted on, defined muscles showing through, sleeves hugging bulging biceps that attached to corded forearms. He oozed power, danger, the type of man that could break her in half without blinking.

Or lift her, or bend her, or pin her — fuck, he could turn her into a pretzel, handle her however he wanted, and she wouldn’t be able to do anything but be helpless and take it.

Not that Hinata ever fantasized about such things, but if she did, it would be all too true.

And to top it all off, vibrant tattoos painted his skin, twining from his fingers, up his arms, hidden beneath his shirt then appearing again on his neck.

Everything from what her mother warned her about men, to her friends’ caution, to her own instinct as a woman — it all told her to watch out, to take care. This man was dangerous.

But, God, he was attractive, and she accepted a date with him on his yacht, expecting only a little bit of petting at worst.

He promised her with a smile after all. “Don’t worry baby, there’s no pressure. I always get what I want, eventually.”

So, why was she face down on a mattress after dinner? Why was Naruto holding her by her thighs after stripping off her dress and panties, his thumbs spreading her dripping cunt open, tongue greedy against her.

Hinata moaned into a pillow, biting on it to hide the wanton sounds she made, shrieking when Naruto slapped her ass hard, unshed tears glossing her eyes. She sniffled and looked over her shoulder, Naruto glaring at her.

“Don’t you dare hide those pretty moans,” he growled, his fingers working her clit over. “I earned those moans, they’re mine. And if you keep them from me, I’ll have to punish you baby, and I don’t wanna do that today.”

“S-Sorry, Naruto-kun, I-I won’t hide them anymore,” Hinata whimpered, her ass swaying back against Naruto’s hand and he grinned at her, vicious.

“Good girl.” He kissed the red he caused before attacking her cunt once more, lapping at her lips and drinking down her arousal like it was the elixir of life, toying with her clit until all Hinata could do was moan and drench her thighs.

“You made me wait so long for this, Hinata,” Naruto said when he started fucking her, his cock massive, punching out her breath as he forced her to take him full. Hinata’s eyes rolling back as his balls slapped against her clit with each heavy thrust. “But that’s okay, I’m gonna savour this, reshape your cunt for my cock, yeah?”

He filled her with more inches than she could take, her pussy in love with Naruto’s cock, gripping tight when he pulled out, gushing like a broken dam when his tip kissed her deep.

Fucking her in so many positions, better than her dreams, Hinata whining and sobbing as she came over and over, like she wanted Naruto’s skin to be forever stained with her scent every time she squirted.

He pulled her back to his chest, facing the mirrored ceiling as he stroked up into her like she was a toy.

A large, strong hand squeezing her throat, a collar for Naruto’s pet, and even in her fucked-out haze, Hinata could read the letters tattooed on his fingers through the reflection, a perfect summation of what she was —

PREY.

the new update of Prey is killing me. the tensionnnnn.please save us! any drabble of them finally fucking will help me make it through their date 😭 sessakag is torturing ussssss!

Coming soon 😈