#(not just oxygen because oxygen toxicity is a thing)

[very-uncorrect]

Apparently the government's banning single-use vapes because little kids are getting addicted to them

Took them fucking long enough

[delulujuls]

his eyes | mv33

hi! you asked about part two for the mad dutchman and the fearless dutchess so i delivered (its still hot, fresh from the oven). i'm not sure if i like it but don't worry, for sure i will write something about the mad dutch duo in the future. but now enjoy this one!

summary: eyes can say a lot so where it comes to reveal feelings there is no place to hide

warnings: none, mentions of car accident

pairing: fem!redbulldriver x max verstappen

Max's eyes were beautiful.

They were always beautiful when they had small wrinkles around them caused by smiling. Always then, they were the color of a cloudless sky on a warm july morning. They were beautiful even when there was a storm raging inside. They were dark and agitated then, but still beautiful. But they were beautiful in a terrifying way, because at that moment there was no trace of a smile on Max's face, and the only warmth was the rage burning in his veins.

Y/N could have sworn she had never met another pair of eyes like Max's, so whenever she could, she allowed herself to drown in them. Even during arguments, when they were shouting and calling each other names, his eyes were beautiful. However, they lost all their beauty when they were struck by fear.

When Max was scared, his eyes faded. The july sky was covered with clouds and the turbulent sea was shrouded in fog. Y/N stopped noticing the fear in Max's eyes when he managed to break free from his toxic father and their karting years ended, replaced by Formula 1.

However, on that day when she woke up in the ambulance, the first thing she encountered was the cloudy sky in his eyes. Max wasn't scared; he was terrified to the core. When, after a few seconds, his brain acknowledged that his friend was alive, he sighed with relief. The sky began to clear.

"I never thought I'd be so happy to see those deceitful eyes of yours."

Verstappen smiled, squeezing his friend's hand.

"What happened?"

She asked with difficulty. Her throat hurt terribly; the hot smoke and fumes had taken their toll.

"You had an accident and lost consciousness. We'll be at the hospital soon."

"Accident is an understatement," a paramedic interjected, removing her drip from the hanger "You did a Grosjean from Bahrain 2020."

Y/N blinked several times and it took her a moment to connect the dots. Judging by the man's comparison, her accident must have been truly unpleasant.

"How's the car?"

"Just needs a wipe."

She rolled her eyes at her friend's words, and a moment later, she coughed. Quickly, she put her oxygen mask back on.

"Don't worry about the car," Max said, still holding her hand. "The most important thing is that you're back with us."

"At what cost? At least, being unconscious spared me from looking at you."

She replied sarcastically, pulling the mask slightly away from her face. Max chuckled quietly at her words, relieved that she still had the strength to joke after everything. She returned his smile. She still didn't fully grasp what had happened or what she had been involved in, but the feeling inside her body told her it must have looked bad. The last time she saw fear in Max's eyes was years ago.

But something had changed after that. Since her accident, she noticed that Max's eyes looked at her differently. In a way she had never seen before, a way she couldn't compare to anything else. They looked at her with unimaginable gentleness and tenderness. They looked at her with love.

"You're damn stubborn, you know that?"

Max said when barely two weeks after the accident Y/N, using crutches, appeared in his garage. He didn't say it maliciously; he was just genuinely worried. He put down his water bottle and approached his friend, gently hugging her and pulling up a chair for her.

"I'm glad to see you too."

She replied, leaning her crutches against the chair and sitting on the workbench.

Max sighed and shook his head. Since the accident, Y/N had been a constant source of concern for him.

"What?" she asked, glancing at him, "I'm not getting into the car, don't worry."

"You should be resting."

"I am resting, see?" Y/N pointed to her makeshift seat, "More comfortable than a bed."

Max was about to reply, but he was called to take his place in the car. Friends exchanged glances one last time and as he left the garage, Y/N hopped off the bench and approached Christian's workstation, taking a seat next to him. He smiled at her and handed her headphones.

"Good to see you, Y/N."

"Some would prefer me not to be here."

She replied, glancing at the monitor. Christian smiled at the thought of Max, who was very concerned about his friend.

"He was really worried about you, like we all were."

"I guess I'm just not used to Verstappen seeing more than the tip of his own nose."

The man laughed at her words. She was absolutely right; Max's reputation could be unpredictable. However, lately, his behavior had changed noticeably, evident to everyone in the paddock.

When the training session ended, friends returned to the hotel. Max kept pace with Y/N, ready to catch her if she stumbled. Moving on crutches wasn't problematic for her, though.

"Don't look at me like I'm an eighty-year-old grandma."

She said, seeing his gaze as they reached her room and she plopped onto the bed with a heavy sigh.

"I'm not looking at you like that. We both know that you are slower than this only in a car."

Y/N grabbed a pillow and threw it at him and he laughed, effortlessly catching it. They looked at each other for a moment in silence, but Y/N lowered her gaze when she noticed his eyes doing it again. Looking at her in that way.

"Christian said you were worried" the girl said, after a moment gathering enough courage to look at him again, "Really?"

"I thought I was pulling a corpse out of that wreck. Of course I was worried."

She lowered her gaze again, focusing on her hands. Max squeezed the pillow in his hands and sat next to her.

"Thank you."

She said softly. Even though she had thanked him earlier, she knew that no amount of gratitude would match the level of his deed. She turned her head towards him and their gazes met again. He smiled.

"I knew you'd do the same. You've always got my back, no matter how angry you are with me."

Y/N snorted and nodded. Max was absolutely right. Although some time had passed since the accident, they hadn't had a chance to talk about it. Not about the accident itself, but about what changed between them. Because something definitely had changed.

"Can I ask you something?"

She spoke up, glancing at him. He nodded.

"Did what happened change anything between us?"

"What do you mean?"

Max tensed a bit. Although he didn't move an inch, after so many years spent together, you could pick up every detail.

"You're behaving differently toward me."

She explained. He looked at her attentively.

"You're more affectionate. I've never felt something like that from you before."

Max lowered his head and interlaced his fingers. He wasn't sure how to put into words what had been swirling in his head for some time and growing stronger with each passing day. So, he decided to go for honesty.

"When I was pulling you out of the car, I had no idea if you were alive. Riding in the ambulance, I wondered if I would ever be able to talk to you again and apologize for that senseless argument."

He took a deep breath and rubbed his face with his hands.

"When you woke up and looked at me, I thought I'd cry with happiness. That's when I realized how much you mean to me and how important you are."

Y/N stayed silent, trying to absorb all the words he had spoken. She could feel the emotions quickening her pulse, so she decided to lighten the mood a bit and probe whether they were on the same page.

"If you had kissed me, I probably would have woken up faster."

Max felt as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water on him. He blinked several times and looked at his friend. She just smiled slightly.

"Kissed?"

She nodded.

For a moment, Max struggled to open his mouth to say something, but to no avail. He was in too much shock.

"Are you setting me up now?"

"I'm not setting you up, Max."

"Yes, like if I had kissed you back then, you would have woken up faster. But only to punch me in the face."

She laughed and fell back on the pillows, pretending to be dead.

"You have to check it yourself."

Max wondered for a moment if she was joking, but he didn't have time for further contemplation. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him toward her. He leaned on his elbow next to her head and looked at her face. Her gaze and a faint smile indicated that it wasn't just a silly joke.

Without hesitation, Max lightly touched her cheek and kissed her. She smiled and hugged him around the neck, returning the kiss.

When they separated for a moment to catch their breath, the eyes of the two met again and Y/N once again allowed herself to drown in the boundless blue of his eyes. The turbulent sea was calm and the july, sunny sky was cloudless. Everything was fine.

Everything was just how it supposed to be.

[loomiseater]

Pissed (no this does NOT have any pee kinks)

warnings: smut ofc!, fem reader!, mean and toxic Rafe, dub con, Dacryphilia, choking, and, p in v. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: I’ve written fics before but it’s only for my notes, so this is the first fic I’ve written that’s being published. Criticism is appreciated! I would love to know how I can improve on my writing. Would you believe this took me an hour to write?

request page

This definitely isn’t repost worthy 😭 but if you do please give creds. @Loomiseater (Tumblr).

Written: April 21, 2024

Published: April 21, 2024

Summary: Rafe is pissed that you were hanging out with the Pouges. 

“I go on vacation for a week! One fucking week! just to find out you were hanging out with those pouges?!” You could hear Rafe’s voice echoing from downstairs along with the door slamming. His footsteps were starting to get louder as he ran up the stairs angrily. 

You cover your face with the bed sheets to pretend like you’re asleep. The doorknob twists as Rafe comes rushing into the bedroom like a maniac. “Get up! I know you’re not sleep” He announced while yanking the sheets off of you. “I know you heard what I said downstairs!” He shouted. “Why are you so pissed that I wanted to hang out with my friends?” You say softly. When Rafe is angry, it’s best to speak to him in a calm, gentle voice so you don’t piss him off even more.

“Why am I so pissed?” He repeatedly uttered to himself like he heard the most unbelievable thing ever. You got up off the bed to try and calm him down but he pushed you right back down. “This is what I get for trying to fix a broke bitch” He said in a chuckle to himself. Your heart shattered at his words. Rafe has always been mean during arguments or when he’s upset but he’s never spoke this ill of you.

“Are you serious?” You asked as tears began to appear in your eyes. “You’re an ungrateful little bitch, you know that?” He started off with a pointed finger. “I buy this big house for not only me but you too, I give you a weekly allowance so you don’t have to work, AND I took your ass out the Cut!” He yelled. It’s like his voice gets louder each time. “And this is how you repay me? Hm?” He questioned as his face got closer to yours. 

You tried your best not to cry but the tears started flowing and the sobs got louder. His hand wrapped around your neck and the oxygen for you was running out. “You are MY wife, understand?” Rafe questioned as you nodded your head. You tried to move his hand off your neck but he only tightened his grip. 

“I only do this because you’re not safe when hanging around Pouges” he explained as his eyes softened while moving some hair out of your face. Your chest was starting to hurt from all the pressure Rafe was putting on your neck. “P-please, let me go” the words struggled to come out of your mouth and Rafe finally released his hand from your neck. Nothing but choked sobs could come out as Rafe immediately apologized.

His face was filled with nothing but regret…this was the first time you’ve ever seen Rafe genuinely sorry. “I’m so sorry baby!” he expressed while moving his forehead against yours. “It’s okay” you say that but you didn’t really mean it. Deep down you’re terrified of Rafe. You know what he’s capable of. What he can do to you and get away with it.

“I just got into argument with my dad and- I took my anger out all on you” he explained anxiously. “No, really Rafe- like I said, I’m fine” you said while wiping the tears that were still falling.

“Y/n, don’t lie to me!” He said sternly as you jump a bit. He noticed this action and gently grabbed your hands. “Let me make it up to you” Rafe says while placing kisses down your neck. You weren’t really in the mood after what just happened. “Rafe. No” you say, unsure what’s about to happen next.

“Shut up, I’m making it up to you” he said while pushing you down on your back and leaving trails of kisses down your neck. It was like he didn’t care, but it’s always been like this. What Rafe wants, Rafe gets. He started places kisses to your exposed chest, you were in nothing but a bra and shorts. 

You didn’t want this, you didn’t want to do this but your body was telling you something else. The tension was thick between you and Rafe and your body was heating up. Your bra was being unclipped, he then threw it to the floor, not caring where it landed. He gently grabbed one of your breasts and started sucking on your nipple softly while looking you in the eye. You didn’t break eye contact with him, it was turning you on even more. Soft moans flew from your mouth as Rafe kept sucking.

“P-please” You choked out as Rafe let out a dark chuckle. “Please what? You want me to fuck you, huh?” He replied with that stupid smirk he always has. He slowly slid off your shorts and felt you. “All that resisting just for me to feel how wet you are” he laughed. He was right, after what he did to you, you were somehow soaked.

Rafe flipped you onto your stomach and left a hard smack to your ass. You hissed at how hard the slap was and it’s like he somehow got even harder. His dick was straining under the sweats he had on as he was pressing against your ass. You could feel kisses being placed on along your back along with a groan Rafe let out. He began take his clothes off and get on his knees behind you as you felt him shove himself in. It caught you off guard, resulting in you letting out a loud moan.

“Shit you’re so tight!” He expressed as he through his head back. He didn’t even wait for you to adjust, he began thrusting inside you like a mad man. The room was filled with nothing but the squelching sound from your pussy and grunts from Rafe’s mouth. “Fuck!” You muttered to yourself. You didn’t want to giveaway how much you were enjoying this but you're pretty sure your wetness spoke for itself. 

He pulled out and slammed back into you as you tightly grabbed the sheets beneath you. The familiar feeling was rising in your stomach. Rafe grabbed your hair and made sure your back was fleshed between his chest as he spoke into your ear. “Pussy so good, make me wanna put a baby in you” he grunted as you came all over his dick from just his words but that didn’t stop him. That was probably the loudest moan you’ve ever let out. 

“I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” You shout as tears flow from your eyes from the overstimulation. Rafe looked down at the mess you made on his dick and it made him whine, almost cumming at the sight in front of him. He pulled out and turn you back on your back. With no warning he put your legs on his shoulders and began thrusting. “Rafe!” You moaned as he was sliding in and out of you. Yours nails deeply scratched his back which led him to slower his thrusts. 

“Your so perfect” He said lowly. Nothing could come out from you except for sobs. “It’s too much Rafe!” You whined from all the stimulation. "You look so pretty when cry" And when Rafe saw you crying he let out a groan while cumming inside you. He began kissing you and rubbing your clit until your legs were shaking. It’s like he knew the exact moment you would finish. He pulled out as you squirted, letting his dick get covered in it while he began to thrust himself in his hand. This time, painting your thighs white.

“You did so good, baby” He says while placing a kiss to your forehead. You passed out on the pillow from your recent activity as Rafe got from off the bed and cleaned you with a wet hand towel.

[elbiotipo]

Whay if we found silicon based life and all of it gave us silicosis

I read this as scoliosis and didn't even question it.

Silicon-based life has many problems... while silicon is able to work as a replacement for carbon, in fact there are equivalents of organic molecules based on silicon that are highly toxic to us (silanes), it seems less flexible than carbon, because it oxidizes easily turning into basically rock. Silicon is indeed more abundant than carbon but life prefers carbon, though diatoms and plants have silicon structures, and there are lots of ways it can combine with other elements.

One interesting thing tough is that most of the products of silicon would be solid. For example, in a speculative silicon photosynthesis, the main source of structure for their "carbohydrates" could be, SiO2, that is, literally sand, like so:

(some electron donor) + SiO2 -> SiH2O (?)

Or rather that a straight carbohydrate equivalent, it would probably be some sort of "silicone", a bunch of structures of silicon connected by oxygen, according to Wikipedia: "−O−R2Si−O−SiR2−, where R = organic group".

I don't even want to know what kind of enzyme would have to exist for that to work, if possible at all. But since silicones do exist in real life, it's not out of the question either.

And "animals" that did silicon "respiration" would also expel SiO2, since it binds so easy:

SiH2O (or some sort of complex silicone stuff) + O2 -> SiO2 + H + energy (alledgelly)

so they would shit bricks.

In a more serious note while I'm not a biochemist, I could imagine in some conditions, where you could have silicon-based life slowly building up delicate structures of silicon oxide, like stromatolites. Or perhaps in higher temperatures where things are melting, more complex things might be very possible, though that would also be a very chaotic enviroment enduring structures. Though it seems just the appropiate place to evolve crystal-like structures like in science fiction.

And it's also been plenty demostrated that complex silicon structures are capable of life-like conditions, even rudimentary thought. I'm typing in one right now.

[vivgst]

TOXIC!VALERIA

Go to part one here

Crying internally while writing this because it was the happy ending that I couldn't have.

You watched TV or at least that's what you tried to do, you had already returned to your apartment and a week had passed since the last time you saw Valeria, you got depressed, cried a little and decided to watch romantic comedies that would rub you in the face that she would never give you something like that. You were feeling like shit, but habit had wrapped your feelings in a warm blanket and numbed them, so you no longer suffered with the same intensity.

However, life or fate, maybe fucking hell itself, insisted that you had to remember your pain and that you not only stare at it but embrace it, so the doorbell rang and you didn't need to open the door to know it was her.

Valeria collapsed in your arms and you almost fell to the ground, she was considerably taller than you, her muscles were not light either but you managed to help her reach the couch, she let out a barely audible hiss and you grabbed her face in your hands, examining her bruised face.

“What the hell happened?” You asked, your gaze dropping to her collarbone which had a cut, not too deep but noticeable enough and it was swollen around it, purple.

“Un hijo de su puta madre… he lied to us, it was a trap.” She murmured in annoyance and leaned her head against the back of the couch, closing her eyes. Her clothes were full of dirt and she was not severely injured, but her body probably hurt all over.

“I imagine he couldn't get away with it.” You said and she shook her head, of course not, it had been too much of an achievement for him to have fooled her.

“Estoy hasta la madre… I'm so fucking tired.” Valeria opened her eyes to look at you, only then did you realize how marked her dark circles were, how her eyes seemed to struggle to stay open and you raised your hand to her cheek to caress it, seeking to give her some kind of comfort although you knew she wasn't too much of a lover of physical contact, or at least that's what she said.

“I’ll help you take a shower.” You spoke in that sweet voice that made her melt so she couldn't say no and followed you to the bathroom at a slow pace, taking off her clothes to get into the shower and she felt her muscles relax when the water began to fall all over her body.

“You can't help me much from out there.” She spoke and you looked at her thoughtfully for a few seconds before sliding the silk robe off your body and stepping into the shower, the water was ice cold, just the way Valeria loved it and it made you shivered.

Her arms rested on your shoulders as her gaze met yours, but your eyes looked at her stomach, she had a few scars and even though she knew how damn sexy she was, she was still a human being with insecurities, like everyone.

"They are disgusting".

“Nothing about you is.” You responded softly as your hand rubbed one of her biggest scars, a stab wound that almost killed her, you remembered it very well, how she arrived at your apartment bloody and almost with no oxygen in her lungs but she refused to leave, she had her men come to help her.

You were the only home she knew and every time she felt broken she came to you, her only spiritual healing, the only one that caressed her soul without even trying and she would return from death just to give you one last kiss, it's a shame you weren't aware of that thoughts.

You stayed immersed in your own mind as you helped her shower, washing her hair that was full of dirt and handing her a towel at the end so she could dry off, which she did carefully and quickly.

You gave her one of the many pajamas she had left there in your place, but she only put on the pants, her torso felt on fire.

You both lay down, the only thing you saw was her back and you drew shapes on it with your index finger, being careful not to touch her bruises because you would hurt her.

“Are you asleep?” You asked in a whisper and she shook her head slowly, she always had trouble sleeping, stress and all her worries being one of the main causes. “You've never told me if you have a favorite color.” The room fell silent once you asked your question and you thought she wouldn't answer before you heard her barely audible voice.

“I've spent so much time living on the edge that there are many things I don't know about myself, my favorite color is one of them.” She paused, she hated casual conversations with you, she felt exposed and vulnerable, it was a bittersweet feeling. “But I hate light blue and orange.” She smiled as she heard you giggle, of course she would hate orange.

“You might like green.” You suggested and she nodded weakly, her head barely moving. “Why don't you ask me what my favorite color is?”

“Your favorite color is pink, maybe black.” You frowned and hugged her tighter, your arm hanging casually over her waist and she gave your hand a light squeeze, bringing it to her lips for a kiss that made your heart race.

“I don’t remember telling you that.”

“Yes but you are too noisy.” She said and you felt her smile against your hand, it was true, you never shut up and she partly envied that about you, the ability to be absurdly happy all the time. “Also, whenever I buy you clothes you choose those colors.”

“You like pink too.” You said and it was true, she had forgotten, which was pretty ridiculous considering she had her nails painted with said color.

There was a moment of silence, you heard her let out a sigh and you didn't really know what to feel, maybe she would tell you to go fuck yourself again because you knew how much she hated opening up to you.

But she rolled over to look into your eyes, she rested her hand on your cheek as her gaze searched for something in your eyes that you didn't know if she would find.

“You are the constant reminder that my life is more than blood and death.” Valeria said and you felt the lump in your throat, something usual when you were with her. And you felt helpless hearing those words that would mean nothing tomorrow once she got up to go and leave you.

She always did that, she came to you broken so that you could put her pieces back in their place, so that you could put her together like a puzzle and fill her with all the love she needed.

Then she would leave you, bleeding because you were tearing off pieces of you own skin to fix hers, and she would leave, leaving you all alone without caring if you were going to survive or not.

“Please don't do this to me.” You spoke and the pleading tone in your voice made her clench her jaw, she asked herself how she had been able to hurt you so many times if now seeing you like this was destroying her.

The hand she had on your cheek moved slightly across your face, as if she wanted to memorize it forever, immortalize it on her skin so she couldn't forget it even if she lost her memory.

“I haven't said it, but you know I do, right? I do". You looked down when you heard that but she put her finger under your chin, raising your face so her eyes met yours. “I love you, probably before you did.”

Your now teary eyes widened in shock and you couldn't process anything other than what was happening in front of you, the words you had wanted to hear for so long and it didn't feel real.

“And I won't be able to be there for you all the time, I have a shitty life, you know that-”

"I don't care, I want to be with you." You responded and gasped because the lump in your throat was consuming you, you couldn't believe it. She pulled you into her arms and you clung to her warmth, snuggling into the softness of her body careful not to hurt her.

Not many words were needed, both of you were comfortable in the silence that surrounded you and you felt your eyelids begin to feel heavy, you would fall asleep, like always when you were with her.

And this time you didn't wake up in an empty bed with teary eyes, you didn't wake up feeling desolate and used, you woke up in the arms you always hoped to be in, in the only arms you would hold on to from now on.

You woke up hugged by someone who loved you so much more than you could ever imagine.

[asvtrials]

Let me show you how sorry I am

Bjorn x Fem!Reader

minors dni!

summary: Bjorn made you cry and he's very sorry about it. So sorry that he buries his head between your legs... warnings: smut, oral (fem! receiving), toxic relationship, plot? what plot?, ooc maybe?, not proof-read a/n: Guess who's back?! I wrote this in like two hours so if it's shit yk why. Bjorn eating his gf out after he fucked up is very real to me this man will avoid the consequences of being a dick like it's the plague. ANYWAYS, something small for you! w/c: 819

Bjorn is always saying shit he doesn’t mean. It’s just how he is.

In the heat of the moment, he will say the most outrageous shit and cause you to storm out in tears.

At first, he thinks you’re being dramatic until he calms down and realizes what a dickhead he was. And that’s when the guilt comes and he’s calling you, texting you, begging you to hear him out.

When you ignore him, he goes to your trailer. When you open the door and send him a venomous look, he looks all desperate, like a kicked puppy.

He cups your face, keeps saying how sorry he is and how much of an asshole he is all the time and you let him, because you know what comes next.

You’re weak, so weak you hated it. Especially when he starts kissing your cheeks, testing the waters, seeing if you’ll push him away. You never do, always melting in his arms as he slowly kisses your jaw and neck.

His lips move with yours in a slow, deep rhythm, leading you to your bedroom.

You fall on the bed with a soft groan, pulling him on top of you.

You don’t stop him when he takes off your pants. Why would you? 

Oh right, you’re mad at him…

Then he starts whispering “You know I don’t mean all’at shit, right?” and “I love you, I dunno what I was sayin’, baby.” between kisses. 

You barely hear him, too drunk on the taste of his tongue yet you nodded, no longer caring about the fight. Hell, you barely remember it.

And he knows it.

A small smirk tugs at his lips when you chase his lips after he pulls away.

“My perfect girl deserves better.” He purrs against your neck whilst leaving a trail of red marks from your neck to your collarbone.

You reach for his soft hair when he reaches your panties, lips inches away from where you desperately need him.

His finger lightly grazes the wet spot on the fabric as he looks up at you through his lashes and asks you “Lemme show ya how sorry I am, yeah?”

It’s embarrassing how fast you nod.

He drags the underwear down your legs, torturously slow to the point where you whine for him to hurry up.

Bjorn is rarely patient. He usually fucks you fast and hard, like a starved man. But not tonight.

Tonight he wanted to show you how sorry he is. And why you always end up forgiving him.

Watching him position himself between your spread legs is enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

You watched the spit abandon his lips and fall on your core, mixing with your juices. 

His eyes meet yours once again as he flattens his tongue against your pussy, sending shivers down your spine.

His name falls from your lips in desperate, pathetic moans as he dives between your legs.

He sucked and slurped on your essence, spreading your folds with his fingers. He didn’t stop even when your thighs were squeezing his head, not even when he felt like his lungs were going to explode from the lack of oxygen.

How could he? When his girl was begging him to ‘not stop’ when she was so sweet to let him show her how remorseful he was.

Almost as sweet as her juices that drive him crazy with every lick. 

“Ah! Fuck!” You moan, thighs trembling with the sensation of your nearing release.

He threw your legs over his shoulders and lifted your hips to bring you closer, needing to be as close as possible, to lick every last drop you had to offer him.

His tongue feverishly lapped your soaked cunt, your loud moans only fueling him to go faster, to ruin you completely so that the only thing you can remember is the feeling of your tongue between your folds.

The last straw was Bjorn’s moan against your clit. You come with a scream, not caring about your neighbors.

You squeezed his head with your quivering thighs, the earthshattering orgasm you just experienced left you a shaking, breathless mess.

And you swear you almost came again when Bjorn finally pulled his head back, admiring his work before meeting your hazy gaze. His slick-coated lips moved but you didn’t hear him.

You nod regardless.

“You really forgive me, baby?” He asks again, his smile turning into a smirk when you weakly reply ‘yeah’.

You were sure you’d feel at least a little pathetic with how easy it was for him but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Especially with the way he looked right now. Chin glistening with your taste, a small victorious grin tugging at his bruised lips as he looked at you.

You knew this wouldn’t be your last orgasm, it never was. After all, Bjorn was very sorry and you were very weak.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I heard you are looking for Barbie prompts👀👀

1. Ken learning to kiss (he's never done it before lol)

2. FtM reader struggling, Ken helps him realize he's just as much of a man as anyone else

3. Ken asking for advice on winning over Barbie, only to fall for reader

4. Ken revealing his struggle with toxic masculinity and his shame

God so many amazing prompts, I wish I could write them all but I don’t wanna bore anyone with how long of a fic that would be. So if anyone wants me to do the other prompts (1, 2, or 4) plz let me know.

Prompt 3: Ken asks for advice on how to win over Barbie, only to fall for reader in the process.

You cringed as another one of Ken’s failed attempts of impressing stereotypical Barbie. You had to applaud your friends’ tenacity because had it been you, you would’ve just given up in the moments where Ken had done nothing but persist in his pursuit of the beautiful blonde. You honestly didn’t a clue in whether or not it’ll do Ken any good in telling him that he would be better off in giving up, or it’ll just further persuade him into trying even harder in his efforts in a desperate form of hope that one day she’ll see him. Like actually see him.

Whatever the outcome, you knew that not matter what was being said by anyone, Ken was one to never know in when it’s okay to quit. His supposed advancements weren’t advancing anything in regards to his and Barrie’s relationship; they were still on square one in your humble opinion, as it was quite blatantly obvious that Ken needed Barbie like she was the oxygen he breaths but Barbie didn’t need Ken, she could very well breath happily without him.

Quickly seeing how you and Ken were the only ones left upon the peachy pink beach, you sighed as you made your way next to your blonde friend -who was very much in the literal sense lying face down within the sand- before sitting yourself down next to him with your knees propped up so that your arms may rest atop of them, followed softly after by your head feasting atop of your arms as you stared out beyond the horizon.

‘Well, that certainly went off without a hitch, didn’t it blondie.’ You said rhetorically whilst Ken groaned as he removed himself from the sand before practically slumping himself against your side.

‘First of all, my names Ken, not blondie, and secondly what is it that I’m doing wrong?’ Ken said, ‘I’d thought that she would totally be girlfriend/boyfriend with me by now but it seems that no matter how many times I’ve tried to make her see the man behind the tan, the more she doesn’t want me…what do I have to change about me to get her to admit that she likes me?’ He adds solemnly before looking over at you with a look of sheer desperation and hopelessness. ‘Tell me what it is that I have to change about myself in order to make Barbie see me.’ He asked of you, making you look his way as he grabbed your hands in his, almost like he was pleading to you to hear him. ‘Tell me what to change and I’ll do it, tell me what will make her see me as more Ken the boyfriend then Ken the friend.’

You stayed silent for awhile as you made the conscious choice to stare into his beautiful cerulean blue eyes that looked almost midnight blue with how they perfectly mimicked the starry sky above, or how they perfectly encapsulated the deepest depths of the very ocean he often -though not that often as he liked to claim- surfed. It was without saying that the Ken before you, your best friend Ken, was probably the most beautiful Ken you’ve ever come across, and while it’s not uncommon for friends to hype up the others beauty; there was obviously lines in the sand in regards to how far one can speak so highly of another’s appearance without it having somewhat romantic implications.

Upon realising how long you had been inside your own head, whilst externally just staring at him like a weirdo, you began to talk. ‘Here’s one thing you can stop doing and that’s going to extreme lengths to impress her.’ You told him, watching as his face slightly drop before feeling a panic consume you into continuing soliciting your advice, ‘I’m not saying you should cut it out all together but maybe tone it down a little, nobody here wants you to end up badly hurt yourself one day. Besides I think it’d be best if you just let her see the so called ‘man behind the tan.’ You added on as you pulled one hand of yours away from Ken’s hold in order to press it against his chest; more specifically where his heart lies. ‘Show Barbie the Ken that I know and love, the Ken who isn’t above helping others, the Ken who loves horses despite never having ridden one, the Ken who loves the beach, the Ken who loves his friends and will go above and beyond for them.’

You paused before trailing your hand upward so that it was now resting behind his neck, your thumb running across his skin in soothing patterns as you smiled at him, causing Ken to take a sharp inhale of breath. ‘You don’t have to change Ken, I don’t want my best friend to change for someone who won’t realise how lucky she is to have you in her life Ken.’ You utter softly before adding, ‘because I am and I prefer you the way you are right now, but I’m not the one your perusing and therefore I have no say in who you change for, just hope that you never do.’ You hauled yourself onto your feet before making your way off of the beach and back to your home, leaving Ken to stare after you in wonder and in awe.

‘Have I? Have I been going after the wrong person?’ Ken asked himself as thoughts of Barbie quickly became thoughts of you instead and the feeling that usually blossoms within him for Barbie, seemed to have only blossomed more then ever in regards of when it came to you. Naturally Ken was conflicted about the sudden change, wasn’t he suppose to be with Barbie? Then why did the notion of being your boyfriend felt more natural, more likeable then being Barbie’s boyfriend? He couldn’t understand how after perusing Barbie for as long as he has, his heart and mind have seemingly made peace with the fact that she wasn’t even at all interested in him, just as they were immediate in their change of trajectory and instead decided to set their sights on you after this particular night on the beach, and engaging within a conversation that relied on him to being open and honest about his feelings.

Ken just couldn’t understand why he felt so breathless when you smiled at him not too long ago, it felt as though you knocked the wind clear out of his lungs and he was still struggling on getting it back the more his mind stayed stuck on that particular moment. Ken was afraid to admit that he had fallen for someone new, but a small part of him was telling him that he had fallen for you way before the events that lead up to tonight’s conversation, telling him that it was no longer Barbie he was trying to impress but you.

[halfmoon-horse]

This guy is an expert on submarine design, and there are a lot of engineers in the comments. Consensus is that they're most likely already dead, as the submersible was not designed with contingency in mind.

Possible shearing forces on the adhesive holding the carbon fibre tube and metal domes together

Advertised 96 hours of air, but it's not stipulated whether that's for 1 person or 5

Controlled by a third party wireless game controller, unknown if back-up wired steering system is in place or spare batteries for the controller are brought along

No way of removing smoke or toxic gases in the event of a fire, and no reported oxygen masks with positive pressure

No way to open from the inside even if they surface - reminiscent of the Apollo 1 tragedy where all three astronauts died in a fire on the launch pad because they couldn't escape the capsule

And so much more. It's a deathtrap. I'm hoping that considering the negligence of construction and lack of quality assurance and testing their little waiver will be struck down and they're sued out of existence. It's not about this one company being stopped, it's about preventing similar companies in space and ocean exploration making the same mistakes. Even NASA gets things wrong - Apollo 1, Challenger, Colombia - so these private businesses must be held to the same or better standards when there is a risk to life, just as the aviation industry is.

Regulations are written in blood.

[jpitha]

The Oxygen Breathers: Careful what you wish for.

It’s another story in this world.

Despite my best efforts, the cycles continue.

The solar years pass, and I age.

My name was drawn, and in the twilight of my life, in my final instar, I find myself speaking for the Coalition. I don’t rule, not really. The Coalition is lead by a panel of ten people. Not all races are represented, but those who aren’t trust us to have their best interests in mind.

When the humans were ejected from Coalition space, their final words were not of anger, or jealousy or resentment. All they told us was, “Beware the Felimen. They are planning something.” We laughed off their warning, thinking they were just sore losers. Thinking that they had finally felt the sting of a Coalition sapient and went back to their corner, nursing a bruise.

I wish we had listened then.

Ten solar years after the humans left, the Felimen made their move. Sweeping in to colony worlds bordering their space, they struck quickly and decisively. It wasn’t a mistake, or a miscommunication or an accident, it was war.

And we were losing.

One by one our worlds fell to them. One by one the sapients of the Coalition surrendered to the Felimen. If they surrendered before an attack began then the Felimen were magnanimous. They would send down some of their number as a garrison and replace the administrators with those loyal to them. Life would continue on their world much as it had done so before. If they chose to fight back, then their destruction was complete.

We needed help, and we only knew one place to go.

Honestly? I was surprised that the Humans would even take our calls. We sent envoys and gave them our ansible and they called back almost immediately. “Come and meet with us.” they said “We will discuss things.” Because of the dangers presented by traveling, I was chosen to speak for the Coalition and packed into a ship with a very small retinue and we took a long, circuitous route to our border with Human space. I remember thinking it was odd. They shared a border with the Felimen as well, yet I heard no reports of violence on their borders.

We met on a large human ship right on the border. This time it was my turn to suit up. Their oxygen based breathing gas is utterly toxic to me. My race is fortunate that we can be in the presence of their gas mix - for a short time - without taking damage, but it was still not recommended. Our ship eased up to theirs and a docking umbilical slid out and connected to our ship. “Administrator!” A bridge officer turned towards me. “Their breathing gas is… different than what we have on file.”

I turned sharply and unconsciously gestured surprise. “How is it different?”

They turned back to their screen, peering carefully at the display. “It seems… to be a mix of their atmosphere and ours. Half ours, half theirs. It’s odd, neither party can breathe that.”

There was a tone from the comm set. The ansible officer raised their arm. “They are hailing us, audio only.”

“Greetings Coalition vessel. This is the human ambassadorial ship Speak Softly. In the name of cooperation, we have adjusted our breathing mix to be a combination of yours and ours. The temperature, pressure, and gravity have been adjusted to be more comfortable to you as well. We will all require masks for breathing, but full pressure suits are not necessary. We will of course not be upset if you wear one anyway, but we will not be suited. Additionally, the Empress of the Human Empire herself has graced us with her presence. She will be speaking on our behalf. We await your presence.”

Empress? The humans have an empire? A single sapient that rules over the entirety of their space? How odd. While I was ruminating the commander of the ship got my attention. “Administrator Kre’kk, you’re not actually going to go over to their ship without a suit are you? That is madness.”

I raised an arm in a gesture of calm. “I will, commander. The rest of my retinue however shall be suited. If the humans wish to compromise, then we shall compromise.”

In hardly any time at all, we were ready. I was wearing my mask, and my retinue was suited up. We had dithered over taking weapons, but decided against it. This was not a show of force. We were coming to them, arm parts open, asking for their help. We were the ones who did not have the strong argument.

As we stepped through the umbilical, their airlock opened. Three humans - not suited - stood there, in their breathing masks as they had said. “Welcome Administrator. Please accompany us.”

I had to force myself to not make a gesture of fear. They were small and dense and looked like they could lift all of us at once. I had only seen images of unsuited humans in reports and had only ever seen their faces when they came to my station so long ago and got into a disagreement with the Felimen. I had ejected them from the station then, and their leader, a human named Margaret had warned me then. I wonder if Margaret would be pleased to know that she was right all along.

We were lead through their halls towards a meeting room. The human ship was bright and utilitarian. Not one bit was wasted space. It was surprising. Their ship was so large! Why were they this efficient with their use of space? Me and my retinue were taller than the humans and their ship felt like a warren. Small, winding with low ceilings. Fortunately, I didn’t have to duck, except when we passed through a pressure door; they’re not using force curtains?

After a short walk, we reached a meeting room. The guards accompanying us did not enter, but instead formed up on either side of the door. “Please, enter.” At that, their eyes flicked away from us, and took up station looking straight ahead. We entered the room and…

And I gasped sharply and made a gesture of surprise. The person sitting in the center of the long table was Margaret Kellerman! She was not in her polished vermillion suit, but instead wore a long, flowing outfit in the same vermillion color. She sat slightly elevated above everyone else and looked down at me imperiously. Her eyes widened in recognition, and she smiled broadly with her mouth closed. “Why, Administrator Kre’kk. As I live and breathe. I had not expected to ever see you again.”

Her voice! It wasn’t the translator speaking for her after all. She was speaking the trade language perfectly, without machine translation. Her voice was clear and beautiful. Following the protocol, I bent my body towards the centerpoint. A bow. “Empress Kellerman. I admit I was not expecting to see you either. When we had first met, I did not know you were royal.”

Her smile settled into something that my translator’s body language module described as a smirk. “That was by design, Administrator. One cannot advertise they are a member of the royal family and also go galavanting across the galaxy leading a small group of mercenaries. Still, it is good to see you again. I recall that you were a being of reason. Did you ever reach out to your family on the colony worlds bordering the Felimen?”

She remembered that? Impressive. “I did, Empress. My crèche mate transferred to an inner world shortly after you left and I messaged them. They are with us still.”

“Most excellent. I knew I was right in warning you.” She looked down at the people on either side of them. They looked up and she nodded. “Now then, Administrator. What can humanity do to help?”

“Just like that? You’re willing to help? We ejected you from Coalition space solar years ago.”

She put up a hand and gestured. “True, true. But perhaps we were a little too… rowdy when we first met. It’s just how we are. Work hard, play hard you know? We also were coming off our first war with the Felimen and were a little touchy. We’re willing to extend our hand to assist.” Her smile slid just a small amount. “Our assistance will not be free, however.”

Here it comes. “We anticipated this Empress. My ship is loaded down with trade goods, currency, and I have authority to offer you any price for your help.”

She chuckled. “Oh no, no, Kre’kk, we don’t want money. We want a seat on the Administration Council. We wish to join the Coalition as equals.”

I tried to hide my surprise. That’s it? There would be arguments when I returned, but here and now? It seemed almost too cheap. “I-it is done, Empress. Humanity will have a seat on the council.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. I have been given authority to speak for the Coalition. Right now I am the Coalition.”

She clapped her hands together once. “Excellent! Thank you for being so reasonable once again, Kre’kk.” She smirked again. “Not even trying to negotiate. You must be desperate.”

“We are, Empress. The Felimen seem unstoppable. They are on a war of conquest. We can only count ourselves fortunate that it is not a war of extermination.”

The small hairs over one of her eyes raised slightly. My body language module indicated that what I said interested her. “Do you wish it was? Speak carefully, Administrator.”

My chromatophores tried to cycle, to match the color and texture of the floor. I forced myself to stop trying to hide. What did she mean? “I… can’t say that I do, Empress. I dislike the war, but I… harbor no desire to see the Felimen exterminated.”

She bent down and spoke very softly to the human on one side of her. I was not able to hear what she said and I knew better than to turn up my audio amplification. “As you wish.” She raised both her hands and addressed the room. “The Felimen shall be defeated but not obliterated. We shall push them back to their original borders and set up a DMZ to keep them contained. So I order.”

“So it is done.” The rest of the humans in the room responded to her words. My retinue started. It was the first thing that anyone other than the Empress had said.

“There. Now that is out of the way, would you care for a tour? Big Stick is behind us, in nullspace. Would you like to see it? It’s pretty impressive if I do say so myself. I don’t think any Coalition races have ever been on a human dreadnought before.”

“Empress, I thank you for the invitation, but I must report back to the Coalition when they are to expect your assistance. Do you have an idea how long before we’ll see ships?”

“Oh, it’s done already.”

“I do not understand.”

“We have defeated the Felimen. All of their ships inside Coalition space have been destroyed, and all of the colony worlds that they controlled have been re-taken. Please, check your ansible.”

I turned and faced my retinue. One of them took out a pad and connected back to our ship. The ansible officer was shaken. There were reports of gigantic ships materializing out of nowhere and immediately destroying any Felimen ship they saw. Still others executed pinpoint strikes on colony worlds, seemingly only destroying Felimen administration. Already, word was coming that the Felimen were on the run, and abandoning their war wholesale.

I turned and looked at the Empress. “How?”

This time she smiled wide, with her teeth exposed. “Oh Kre’kk, we can’t give away all our secrets. However I will tell you this: None of you, not this Coalition, not the Felimen not anyone, ever presented us with a real threat. We were being nice and neighborly. We got a little rowdy and you asked us to leave. Fine. Like a good neighbor we obliged. Now you come asking for help and again, like a good neighbor, we helped. It is not our fault that you never decided to learn more about us. We were always only ‘Oxygen Breathers’ to you.” She stood. “Now then. Would you like a tour? You can’t see the whole thing, but we’ll take out enough to impress.”

Her smile was terrifying.

[tearsucry]

— °˖ ⊹ ꒰ 🌿 ꒱ tearing up old wounds ; addison montgomery (grey’s anatomy)

#.                   ( season 3 episode 14 ) you woke up after inhaling the neuro toxic from the colon cancer patient’s surgery, and addison was stupid enough to run in after the patient’s anesthesia was wearing off, ripping up bandages from old wounds

content warning;      suggestive content, afab reader, implied homewrecker! reader, age-gap (reader is in the same intern year as meredith), mention of surgeries, blood, intubation,

a/n.                                        I had this little idea while rewatching the show, I fell in love with addison all over again, ugh she is so hot- enjoy

everything was foggy, you still felt nauseous, you were still shivering even under the thick blanket, and the oxygen mask on your face felt more suffocating than the heavy feeling in your chest. blinking, moving your head around and trying to figure out where the heck you are.

“I thought you were on burk’s service today.” you heard an all too familiar voice coming from your side, faint, and sort of mumbled, but you knew who it was, you knew exactly who it was. you felt weak, struggled to move your hand up to your face to rub your eyes, to help yourself to see better.

“you went in there…” you croak, taking a shaky breath in as you spot her green eyes in the haze of your vision. you gulp again, trying to compensate for how dry your nose and mouth feel because of the oxygen mask. she is right in front of you, if you could just

you can tell by her blurry appearance and her messy red hair. she looks so tired and worn out, like every muscle in her body aches, just like yours does, and just like that realization makes you wonder if maybe you should have requested to stay on her service, maybe this whole thing wouldn't have happened with the two of you. “I did.” she whispers, her throat hoarse and scratchy.

“but i couldn't watch her suffer, fight against the intubation like that..."  her voice trails off, and her hand reaches out for you, as if she wants to touch your face, caress your cheek but can't bring herself to do it. "i couldn't let her feel so scared, miserable." she sits up and leans on the bed next to you, reaching out to tuck some strand of hair behind your ear. “what do you mean?” you ask, not understanding whatever she is hinting at. you'd know because you were in her position once after your surgery, the surgery you had to get after a psych patient went rogue, dressing up as another surgeon then going around, and stabbing people in the stomach.

but then you remember-

she was there when you were fighting against the intubation, you remember it clearly. the same green eyes were staring at you, frightened above the rim of the surgical mask. the same lips formed the words, "you will be okay," over and over again. you try hard not to cry as you recall the events, because even though you are happy, you're also afraid.

"can we... can you lay next to me?"  you finally manage to say, because you're starting to become restless from being trapped under this blanket, sitting still isn't really appealing anymore. "of course, i'm here darling." she smiles softly, and you could swear you're seeing her tears glisten in the dim light of the room.

addison shifts in her bed again, putting the green strap around her head then getting up to lay next to you on your bed. you catch doctor bailey rolling her eyes at the nurse's station before coming over and closing the curtain around the two of you.  your breathing has gotten steadier, your heart feels calmer, and you close your eyes slowly as you settle into her embrace, inhaling deeply the scent of her scrubs, smelling like a freshly sterilized operating room.

her heartbeat slows down to match the beat of your own and you sigh contently, relaxing in her arms. “thank you.” you whisper quietly. she kisses the top of your head. you don’t think there is anything she wouldn’t give to make sure you are alright. “no need to thank me, sweetheart.” she murmurs softly, wrapping her arm around you tighter. your fingers are laced together now, her thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin.

[cowboyemeritus]

Day 16

Prompt: Corsetry

Pairing: Copia/Reader

Tags: corsetry, insecurity, a tiny bit of toxic masculinity

Notes: writing is great because i can put that man in a situation (a corset)

He’s nervous, heart thumping in his chest as he hooks the final clasp together. Already, he feels short of breath, the garment constricting him like a snake. It’s hard to relax with the boning keeping his back straight, so he remains standing while he pulls on the panties — your panties — and stockings. He stumbles as he does so, head slightly spinning from the lack of oxygen. Copia curses loudly when he bumps into the counter, hitting his elbow hard enough that he’s sure there will be a nice bruise tomorrow.

How you can do this, he’ll never know.

“Are you okay, babe?” You ask through the bathroom door. Rubbing the tender spot, he takes as deep a breath as he can in a weak attempt to steady himself.

“Y-yes.” He cringes at the tremble in his voice. “Just-“ He sighs. “I need a second.” This was a horrible idea, and Copia curses his sex-addled brain for even suggesting it. His mind wanders to strange places when he’s inside you, and somehow, this time he just had to open his big mouth and give his thoughts substance. In that moment, the way you’d spasmed around him had been all the encouragement he needed. Now, it makes his chest tighten, worse than the corset crushing his lungs.

He doesn’t want to disappoint you.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to anymore,” you reassure him. “Don’t force it if you’re not comfortable.” Oh, his darling, his sweetheart. How he loves you so.

“No,” he says, steeling himself. He wants to do this, for both of you. “I’m alright. Just wait for me, okay?”

“Okay.” There’s a pause. “Ti amo.” He’s never doubted that for a second. You’ve never given him the chance.

“Anch’io ti amo, tesorina.” Once the padding of your feet fades away, he dares to look at himself in the mirror. The sight stirs up a strange mix of feelings.

It’s a nice fucking corset; black jacquard silk with ornate silver clasps down the front. The edges are lined with dainty lace that just barely tickles the skin under his arms. Cut off under the bust, it hugs him tight, bringing in his chest just enough to give him a more slight, feminine silhouette. Combined with the black lace panties and stockings, Copia looks like something straight out of Cabaret. All he needs is a feather boa.

He looks good, but feels a little ridiculous, cheeks flushing as he takes in the sight of himself. Still, he can’t ignore how his cock gives an interested twitch, beginning to fill out against the confines of the borrowed underwear.

It’s the 21st century, he thinks. This is nothing to be ashamed about.

Taking another steadying breath, he looks himself up and down one more time, wipes away a smear of black eye paint, and then heads for the door. Another wave of anxiety bubbles up in his chest and for a moment, he hesitates, hand on the knob. The worst thing that could happen is that you’re not into it, and that’s… okay. That’s fine. You’re entitled to your feelings and desires and if this doesn’t do it for you, he definitely won’t feel like some silly old pervert for suggesting it in the first place. Definitely not.

Swallowing down the remaining fear, Copia opens the door just enough to slip through. The bedroom is dimly lit, which he’s rather grateful for. You’re sprawled out on the bed in just your panties, scrolling absentmindedly on your phone. The moment you hear the door creak you turn in his direction. At the sight of him your eyes widen, your hands clapping over your mouth. He can’t tell if that’s a good or bad sign.

“W-what do you think?” He asks, trying to lean against the door sexily. Relief instantly washes over him when your hands drop into your lap, revealing an impish grin plastered across your face.

“Get over here,” you demand, crooking a finger towards him. He obliges immediately, any nervousness he once had replaced by excitement and throbbing arousal. “Get the fuck-“ Once he’s close enough you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him onto the bed. Before he knows what’s happening you’re on top of him, peppering his neck with kisses and love bites. Your core grinds against his hard cock, the obscene amount of slick evident even through your combined undergarments. “You’re gonna be shooting blanks by the time I’m done with you, pretty boy.”

Actually, this was an amazing idea.

[whatwewrotepodcast]

Equestrian Writing Resource

Hi everyone,

I've seen some how to write horses posts going around recently that contain some . . very not true things about horses. As a Certified Horse Girl TM I thought I might clarify a few things for any one out there wanting to write anything that includes horses.

My credentials are that I've been riding for as long as I remember, have owned horses for 15 years and currently compete at a state and national level in dressage.

Facts below the cut!

Travelling by horseback

Horses cannot gallop or even canter endlessly. This is something I see a lot of in movies and games and media like that. Even an extremely fit horse can only really gallop flat out for 10-15 minutes. A steady canter they can go for longer, but if you watch endurance races (where horses are ridden for 100s of kms over sometimes several days), the riders will mix periods of walk and trot to let the horses catch their breath and recover.

There are a couple of reasons for this. Horses do not have strong enough diaphragms to inflate their lungs fully. There are some cursed interior nonsenses going on here, but essentially at a gallop, a horse can only breathe once per stride. This means there is only a matter of time before they are no longer able to get enough oxygen to their muscles.

Which leads into the next thing . . .

Horses get hot easily and can struggle to cool down

Horses sweat, just like humans, but because of their mass, their interior temp can get very high and may need assistance to be brought down. That's why at the end of a cross country course (where horses are galloping for anywhere between 5-12 minutes and jumping fences) they often have buckets of water thrown on them to help them cool down.

A well trained horse can be ridden by anyone

I've seen some posts around recently that said that horses will try and throw off unfamiliar riders and that you can't ride a horse who doesn't know you. This is . . . ridiculous. If your horse has been trained properly anyone can get on and ride it. Ride it well? Maybe not, but if the person is a good rider they'll be able to do the basics. I've ridden my friends horses, and they've ridden my horse. I've put an 8 year old on my horse and let her walk around. If you horse is so insane it tosses anyone other than you, you've done a terrible job training it.

However, if a horse has not been broken to saddle, then yes, if you try and hop on it, it will probably try and get rid of you. If you just try and get on a horse bareback in the paddock, it will probably go poorly. A lot of horses don't take well to being ridden bareback initially, but they can all get used to it in time.

Horses are sensitive but you can just let them graze

It's a common joke amongst horse people that horses will drop dead of anything and this is true to an extent, but they would be entirely unviable lifeforms if you had to inspect every patch of grass before you let them eat it. In general, horses won't eat toxic plants if they have a choice. I'm not sure how people thing mustangs and other feral horses survive in the wild if every paddock needs to be check for toxic plants because horses can't tell what will kill them and what won't. It's usually perfectly fine to let your horse graze outside their paddock. On that note - if you horse breaks into the feed shed, it *can* cause colic, and depending what they eat, it can be an extremely serious circumstance, but also many horses break into feed sheds, gorge themselves, and walk away fine. Mine has done it more than once.

Horse riding IS hard

One thing other posts have gotten correct is that riding a horse is hard. It's not something you can do well from the get go no matter how amazing you are. Riding a horse the first few times will make muscles hurt you didn't even know you had. Riding a dressage test gets my heart rate nearly as high as going for a run.

Horses are kinda smart . . and kinda stupid

Yes horses all have personalities and they can be really clever, but they can also be extremely stupid and this is because they are flight animals. Some are braver, some are smarter, some are stupid, some are flighty. But a horse is generally not as smart as a dog, and some of them are as dumb as a bag of rocks.

Riding bareback is hard and not good for your horse's back

There's a reason we invented saddles and it's to help distribute a rider's weight more evenly over the horse's back. Horse spines are suspended like a cable between their hips and shoulders. There is nothing in the middle to hold it up but muscle, and you sit right on that thing. Riding bareback puts a lot of weight and pressure on their spine and the muscles around it. Riding with a (well fitted) saddle will help distribute the weight. However, well fitted is the key thing here. You can't just put any saddle on any horse. If the saddle doesn't fit, it can cause rubbing, pain, and eventually long term damage. It's best practice to get a saddle fitted every 12 months at least.

Sweat doesn't really make your horse more slippery though and if you saddle slides right off, your girth wasn't done up tight enough or some part of your tack failed.

Horses should be tied up while you tack and untack

Horses are flight animals and they will piss off if something scares them, which can be dangerous if they're half-tacked or untacked. However, if your horse tries to bite you just because you haven't tied them up then you are doing something that is causing them discomfort or you haven't trained them properly. For the love of god don't let your horse bite you?? What is wrong with you?? The girth should not be painful or uncomfortable for the horse. You don't need to do it as tightly as possible, just enough that it won't slide. Most horses have what is called a "girth groove" which is where the girth sits in front of their ribcage. Because their shoulder is in front and their rib cage widens out behind, the girth sitting in the groove stops the saddle moving.

Training a horse does take a while . . . but them liking you doesn't really factor

Training or breaking a horse to take a saddle and accept a bit and aids does take a long time. You can't just jump on a feral horse and expect them to listen to you. Horses are usually backed (sat on) at between 4-6 years old but they may have had a saddle and bit on for short periods before hand. Horses don't accept tack because they care about whether it helps their rider not fall off, they do it because they have been trained to do it.

Crops and spurs

Crops (whips) and spurs are both aids that, when used properly, cue horses to perform certain movements. Both are more than capable of being abused. You can hurt a horse with a whip just as easily as with a spur, however, used properly, a spur allows you to make smaller, more finnessed aids with your leg than using your heel. A whip or crop can be used in a similar way, especially with horses who like to swing their shoulders or hips one way or the other - the whip just extends your reach.

English vs western

English and western are the two main styles of riding that are most common these days.

English riding includes dressage, jumping, and eventing. These sports are complicated so I won't go into them, but generally the saddles are lighter and allow for a closer connection to the horse, and more ability to move in the saddle - to stand in the stirrups, to get deeper into the saddle, etc.

Western riding is more ranch style riding, and include disciplines like reining, barrel racing, cutting and other sports involving cows. Western saddles are what you see in cowboy movies, and tend to be much heavier and more restrictive - they down allow you to move around so much.

Horses can be affectionate

It does depend a bit on the horse, but horses can absolutely be affectionate. They do this by calling out to you, coming over to you in the paddock, and sniffing and nuzzling at you. They do think with their stomach though, and a great way to get your horse to be excited to see you is to always bring them food.

Horses don't neigh that much

This is a big bug bear in movies. Horses really really really don't usually neigh that much. In fact, they don't make a lot of noise at all in general. They will call to their friends sometimes, and they make a range of whuffling, nickering, snuffling sounds, snorts and grunts, but the way movies show horses screaming their heads off all the time is totally false. They're usually pretty quiet.

That's it for now, but feel free to reach out if you have any other questions. I hope this post spreads as far as the other one did because. . .yikes there was a lot of wrong information in there!

[sashi-ya]

𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 [+𝟏𝟖] 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗! 𝚊𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚎 𝚡 𝚏! 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

⬥ Happy birthday, Aizen-sama! ⬥ tw: +18. vag, fingering, possessive aizen taicho. I included many references: one of his phrases in hueco mundo, poem 12, the ink because of his lessons of calligraphy, momo and the letter to momo, Kyoka Suigetsu's meaning, the "untouchable" aspect of his personality and the development of his plan. toxic aizen.⬥ wc: 2k

“I refuse to let you go” “Sosuke, you are making this way more difficult than it should be. Please, stop it”

Your knees carve into the wooden floor of his room. The sun hasn’t even risen in the Seireitei, and you wanna leave before it does. But he won’t let you. Sosuke Aizen’s reiatsu is way stronger that the rest of the people know about. He can make you choke with just a simple stare from his deep brown eyes.

You cough, in all fours, spiting on the ground and panting. You need oxygen. “Sos…Sosuke… just- stop this… you are gonna kill me”

He stands up from the bed you were tangled with him a few moments ago in, and puts on his glasses. “Don’t go. I told you, I won’t let you go” he says, almost like a child throwing a tantrum for a sweet.  

He stops that rib crushing pressure and extends his hand to you. You look up at him, with eyes filled with tears. It still hurts that he thinks is ok to control you with that. Yet, controlling you with Kyoka Suigetsu could be worse. But he said he never will… right?

“Why- why are you wearing your glasses after all?” you ask, bitter. You know his secret. Captain Aizen isn’t that innocent after all.

“Because- never mind” he sighs, taking them off. “Stay. I need you here” he replies, as he leaves those supposedly fake glasses over the desk where a letter that has already been written lays.

You shake your dizziness away and stand up with difficulty. “No. Why? Call that little girl you like to fuck better” you grunt, believing that you have already decided you won’t be next to him when the “treachery plan” starts.

He laughs. “Are you serious, right now? I thought you were more intelligent than that, (Name)” he tries to gaslight you while walking towards you in a peaceful but dominant way.

His hand surrounds your wrist; but Aizen isn’t hurting you, not even grabbing you strongly enough for you not to leave. “Jealous? For me? Are you jealous, (Name)?” he asks, then taking his thumb to your lips.

You are tired of always succumbing to his lustful, so sinful approaches. He is unsatiable, and you are the only one knowing such thing. Because for the rest, the sweet captain of the fifth division of the Gotei 13, could never do such nasty things to their subordinates. Right?

“Aren’t you satisfied already? How much more you would like to use my body, Sosuke?” you spit, venomously.

“Why are you angry exactly? Is it because I told you tomorrow night not to come? Or because you want to come with me?” Sosuke asks you, making you walk backwards until your legs hit the desk behind you.

You swallow. Truth is that, you want to go with him to Las Noches. And also, you don’t want him to sleep with that annoying one… even if, it would be only Kyoka Suigetsu.

“Because… fuck you, Sosuke. That’s why” you back up, being the only woman able to talk to him that way. He would never, ever, allow anyone else call him by his first name, and much less insult him. But he knows where all of this comes from, and he is having so much fun with it.

You try to look away; Aizen is barely wearing his lose pants over nothing. If you focus on him, your eyes will only fall into the trap of his caramel skin. If you look past him, into the wrinkled sheets of his bed where he just fucked you.

“Look at me, (Name)… you really wanna go?” he asks grabbing your chin in between his thumb and index. So delicately he makes you look at him, as he comes closer and whisper into your ear. “You want to come with me, then? You really wish to be a traitor? You will be considered a criminal by the Soul Society. Would you go that far for me?”

You close your eyes. Frowning in pain… he is absolutely right. And he wouldn’t do the same for you; you just know that. You know he will never ask you to trust in him, if you do… it is just because you wish for it.

“I would go further, Sosuke. Even if I know, you will never, ever, protect me” you murmur, accepting an inexorable truth that makes you wanna cry.

You can hear him gasp. Somehow, your words were… surprising for him? For a man who has every step planned?

Aizen passes his hands behind your legs and lifts you up, sitting you over his desk. The calligraphy tint spills, falling like dark tears into the floor. Your palms get stained in black ink, almost like traces of blood that hasn’t yet been spilled… the blood of your people in the Gotei 13. You, knowing the truth of Aizen’s plans, and hiding them, make you already a criminal to them.

In between your legs he comes closer, pressing his forehead on yours. His chocolate eyes, as sweet but also as bitter, can’t look at yours for a couple of minutes. Aizen takes your hand to his chest, place in where you leave your handprint.

“Who said I won’t protect you, (Name)? No matter what may happen… As long as you walk by my side… There shall be no enemy that can stand before us.” He murmurs, giving you the gift of empty words, you chose to believe in.

You let your head fall over the crook of his neck. The smell of his skin, the deadly perfume you inhale and feel like your body relaxes instantly; the protrusion of his collar bones that call you to bite; the tickling sensation of his soft wavy hair… so inevitably irresistible.

He plants a warm kiss on your shoulder, grunting and inhaling your skin perfume. His hands travel to your arms, pulling down the yukata you quickly grabbed from the floor to cover your nudity.

He scoffs, sexily. “Where you planning on going out like this? with my clothes?” he asks, as he exposes your skin once more. “You want the rest to know you are mine. Don’t you, (Name)?”.

The way your name sounds with his deep voice, and the way he so subtly degrades you to his absolute sex doll makes you shiver. Your cheeks burn. He is not exactly right, but neither he is wrong, you want the rest to know you are his, and how much of yours he is.

“Is not that… I- Sosuke, please” you beg, what exactly… you don’t know. “Mhh? What?” he asks, smirking so deadly, as he slides his two fingers inside you.

You throw your head back, biting your lower lip. Even if you are still sensitive and swollen from before, you want more. Your body screams for more of his sweet torture.

Aizen knows perfectly well where and how to touch. The perfect rhythm, the ups and downs. Your body is yet another subject of investigation, one of his most successful ones.

“If I go without you, who would you fuck if it’s not me, mh?” Aizen inquires you, with tricky questions that have no right answer. He only wants to have a reason to punish you, even if he doesn’t really need one.

“No- Nobody” you murmur, in between whines and little moans. His fingertips bury right on the spot, making your inner thighs to tremble and your lower part to lose the sense of control. Your stained hands make a mess of his back, with nails that carve in marks that soon time will erase.

He keeps going, fingering you with merciless pace and enjoying every little whimper coming from your lips. Ah, so swollen lips he attacks with nibbling teeth that could make you bleed. Just like the love you have for this man, painful but so addictive.

It hurts, but keep biting, pulling, possessing me.

Aizen rejoices with the juicy sound of your cunt being violated by his fingers but is never enough for him. As much as he enjoys control over you, it is him who is losing it for his own body. For some reason, tonight he wants so much more than any night.

Is Aizen afraid of something? Of losing you? Even a genius like him sometimes feels doubt in his heart when it comes to love and loss.

“Let’s go to bed…” he murmurs. Usually, he wouldn’t care to fuck you almost everywhere. His desk, the floor, the bathroom, or his secret laboratory. But, tonight Aizen seems soft.

You nod, surrounding his waist with your legs, allowing him to carry to his bed. It is still warm from your bodies, even perhaps a little wet. And now, it’s about to become stained with ink, too.

When he deposits you on the mattress, you sigh loudly. His topping body over yours always leaves you out of breath. Sosuke looks at you, with eyes that aren’t proper for a man like him. Eyes that hide a tint of longing, there, where you can only see.

None of you speak. Would have made any difference? Absolutely not. The calm before the storm is always the most silent moment.

He takes your arms up and pin them above your head. With his free hand, he unties the cord that holds the hakama up, offering you a slow-motion show of his hips being revealed. It will definitely be painful when his body won’t be here to admire no more.

The stain of your hand remains there, in the middle of his chest, like the hollows, like the outcome of his plan… There, where your fingerprints have been left, will be then something shiny and powerful. Something that, in the end, will be the death of him, of you.

“Sosuke… if this is our last night, could you please make love to me?” you ask, moved by the painful ideas you just had. Love, what a stupid word to name in front of him.

“Love…” he whispers, letting go of your hands. At this point you are sure he will start giving you a three-minute-long speech on why love is stupid, and only belongs to humans.

But instead, in total calm, he takes his hand to your cheek, giving you the sweetest caress ever given by his soul. “Yes, I will…”

Your eyes widen, and probably your pupils do too. Your lips separate, but they are immediately tightly closed by his overwhelming kisses. If this is some kind of hallucination created by his Zanpakuto, you don’t know… but you definitely want him to keep going.

His hips search for your open legs almost naturally. He doesn’t need to see, his own hardness knows the way. The tip of Sosuke’s sex grazes your wetness, dragging your fluids up and down, pressing against your clit.

You let your hands printed all over his back and neck, as you clench with passion to his body. His intrusion is violent, but it flows so perfectly. Mixing both in one, feeling his impaling lust.

You can feel the way his back muscles move on your palms, the grunts coming from his mouth. Wishing for some moments to be able to see him fucking you from away… as beautiful and dangerous to enjoy, as a flower in the precipice for so many… and yet, a jump into the abyss just for you. A deep hollow, in which you drown.

“Take me with you… I’ll do anything” you bargain. “Take me with you, or kill me”. “I’m… taking you with me… I can’t- I- yes…ngh” he moans, turning you to the side, with him still deep connected with you.

You face him, noses touching. His hips going in and out, non stop, both reaching climax together, in the peak of pleasure and lust. One million finger prints all over his body, like the imprints of a love that could soon meet the end.

His façade, in pure ecstasy, is like those famous paintings of the human world…

“Aizen Sosuke, you are pure art. Like the reflection of a beautiful flower in the calmed waters of a lake…But, will I ever be able to touch the flower?”

You are the only one, who has ever touched it, (Name)… because even if I become untouchable, there are stains on my skin that will never fade away”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤAnd the blade crossed your heart, but it didn’t hurt. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAfter all, you didn’t need to betray Gotei 13…

taglist: @stygianoir @vexronicaa 💖

[r0-boat]

Heyy, may I request just a grusha x female (or gender neutral if you’d like) reader smut fic? You can do whatever you want with it, creative freedom’s all yours!

🥺🥺 bestie

Creative freedom?! For me??

Don't mind if do!

Warm me please

Cw: cock warming, temperature play ish, Yandere behavior, toxic behavior, stalking, horror

Yuki-onna!Grusha x Gn!reader

Blankets of snow cover the ground, trees covered in frost, twinkling spears of ice dangle from its delicate branches. Beautiful yet harsh; a silent killer for those who do not know the dangers among the seeming pure white.

The wind carries the snowflakes pelting you in the face. You raise your arm in hopes it would stop the onslaught to no avail. Your body screams for warmth but you will yourself to keep going. With each breath you take, the snowfall laced with deadly cold air chokes you. But you had to keep going.

For the thing that lurks in the snow and the blizzard is coming.

Having just escaped your icy prison, you’re on the run. And your captor is chasing you.

And this winterland is his hunting ground. He knows the snowy mountains like the back of his hand.

Your heart stops as the snow fall begins to pick up into a blizzard. The wind whips the snow so hard it’s very difficult to keep moving.

In the howling wind, you hear a crunch, the sound of snow falling onto the ground.

Don't look behind you.

Don't look behind you.

Don't look behind you!

Your curiosity gets the better of you as you slowly turn your head, taking just a glance behind you.

A figure, a silhouette coming for you.

Your heart jumps in your stomach turning fast. The snow is thick and you’re freezing but you force your legs to move hoping that the adrenaline of being caught is enough strength.

However the silhouette is far faster. At first glance it appears so far away but in no time you feel a hand grabbing the back of your throat. Enough strength stopping you dead in your tracks. His voice, his breath, his hand snakes around the front of your throat, you feel as hot breath against your neck. Well it's called fingers dig into your flesh.

"You didn't think I'd catch you did you?"

You try to stifle your crying but it only makes the hand around you tighten.

"Answer me." He whispers in a threatening tone. All you could do is shake your head.

Your answer satisfies him.

"Do you know how dangerous it is out here? You aren't wearing anything you would have froze to death if I hadn't found you." His grip tightens once again. It’s getting harder to breathe. But he doesn't care, lifting you up in his arms. You see his warm smile, his icy blue eyes and his blue hair.

"Let's go home," with no more oxygen you black out.

Only to wake up wrapped in a black blanket on a rug warm fire in the same cabin you tried to escape from. Your head is killing you and your body feels numb as you try to sit up, gazing ideally into the fire. Your body shakes, not because you are cold, but because you notice the metal chain attached to your leg, bolted against a metal plate screwed into the floor. A pair of arms wrap around you.

"I had to. You disobeyed me and escaped, I did this for your own safety."

His fingertips, ice cold, move underneath the yard blanket, caressing your naked skin. You haven't even realize you were naked.

"Stealing my coat and scarf too? I have to admit it looked cute on you, but not when you are 10 ft away from me. You won't be needing them anymore or any clothes for that matter…" The ice demon purrs before grabbing your blanket and ripping it off you. Grusha lifts you with ease, placing you in his lap. It's cold body against your warm one.

"Mmh. Your warm body feels so good. You gave me quite a scare. You felt so cold, as though you were going to die." His breath quickens.

"Don't. Ever do that to me again."

"I'm sorry.” You could only murmur. His eyes widen until he busts out into laughter, a crazed laugh.

"Your pathetic apology isn't enough, my dear. As priceless as it was, I have to punish you." Grusha pulls you closer to him; your back pressing against his bare chest

You feel his cock press against you, naked, it’s the only realization that you aren’t the only one without clothes.

His fingers play with your heated core, cold clashing with warmth, making you squirm, but he holds you in place firmly. He won't let you escape not this time. Not ever.

Besides his inflamed hot cock, his entire body chilling you.

"So warm" Grusha mumbles. Your warm body is intoxicating but it wasn't enough; Grusha needed more. Obsessed with how warm and soft humans are. He craves the heat between your legs. To be inside you and envelop himself in your hot body. To burn himself up in your wet warm walls and fill you with his own warmth.

The ice spirit rocks himself against you, his fingers digging into your thighs. He wraps an arm around your legs, lifting you up, his other hand stroking is cock, maneuvering it underneath you, his tip now prodding you open.

"Fuck…" He mutters, his breath tickling your ear, as his cock finally pushes inside you.

Grusha's breath hitches, his cock is twitching inside you, feeling you squirm in his lap.

"Stop, don’t move…this is supposed to be a punishment. Sit here and keep me warm."

You obey, staying still, his rigid cold body against your soft skin, aching cock deep inside you. Pressing so tightly against you. You could feel every ripple of his muscles.

Your eyes try not to focus on his dick stretching you out and instead focus on the huge scar on his pale skin. Trying not to focus on how close he is to you, his chin resting on your shoulder, his hands all over your chest rubbing your sides, cold fingers tracing over your nipples. His teeth and tongue occasionally nipping and tasting the shell of your ear.

"Your heartbeat… I can feel it; I can hear it.

So alive, so warm. Been so long since I've had one so comforting. Never leave me again."

"Never leave me cold again."

[rippersz]

𝕴𝖙’𝖘 𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔𝖔.

«——..✞..——»

«——..✞..——»

(DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT) (TW: Mentions of cannibalism, murder, slight glorification of both, gore, toxic love, smutty/suggestive themes, etc.) (Larissa Weems x Reader)

«——..✞..——»

“The blood on my teeth begins to taste like a poem, like religion, like the way you look at me.” ~ Sean Glatch

«——..✞..——»

Turns out, the maintenance crew was due to leave only about two hours after everyone vacated Nevermore to go to the carnival. The only catch was that Larissa had to turn it back on five hours later; some inane thing about a system catch up and not wanting to blow the lights and blah blah blah. She didn’t really seem too concerned, so you figured it wasn’t worth worrying about. Though then again, her level of reaction is often exaggerated around others. A smooth coverup to her consistent undertone of intense apathy. She’s a damn good actress, you have to give her that. Even when around you, she puts a bit more life into her eyes. Into her voice. Into her breath. It’s forced, of course. Yeah. Most definitely. She doesn’t just magically feel more alive because of you. That type of thing doesn’t happen in real life.

…Cannibals, on the other hand, happen far more often than people like to think.

If you could go back in time and tell your younger self that you’d somehow fall into a weird pseudo-psychotic-relationship with your one day shape-shifting cannibalistic gorgeous boss, you’re pretty sure your younger self would just burst into tears. Or blink maybe- and ask what a ‘cannibal’ was. You wouldn’t have an answer, of course, but that’s neither here nor there.

What’s more important anyway is the fact that you stupidly agreed to meet Larissa by Nevermore’s main entrance at exactly 9:45. You were exhausted after a day of rowdy teenagers and slow classes and it was only at about 7 PM when you remembered that your day wasn’t even over yet. Oh no no no. You still had a game to play. A game that, now as you think of it, standing by the two big doors and waiting for the guest of honor, may just go on well into the night. It depends on how Larissa’s feeling. It depends on what the ‘terms’ are. It depends on if she’s eaten dinner yet and if she has the energy to kill, cook, and clean before everyone gets back.

God you hope that’s not the case.

You really really hope-

“Always on time, I see,” a familiar voice rings through the hall, sounding from the top of the staircase.

Speaking of the fucking thorn in your side.

You turn at the exact moment that Larissa’s kitten heels start click-clacking their way down the stairs… and then promptly fall short of breath at the sight.

You haven’t seen her all day. Not even once. And now there she stands, all 6 feet and however many inches in those shoes and she’s painted against the moonlight that shines through the large windows behind her and the shadows drink her in as the air loses itself in her beauty, stealing away into her lungs and depriving you of oxygen and you, not for the first time, find yourself wondering why it’s so hard to just accept her. To just come to terms with the fact that maybe, if you ignore her insatiable appetite, you may be able to fall asleep in her arms and kiss her peacefully without feeling shame. Why can’t you just push guilt aside and fall into her body and let her pick you up and surround you and finally feel safe? And why oh why can you not take your fucking eyes off of her goddamn body? Jesus you are barely holding yourself together as she drags one slender hand down the bannister, making eye contact with you as she prowls. Those crystal eyes take on a dark, nearly black hue in the grey of the evening and you find yourself ashamed of the fact that you can’t look away from them.

Perhaps some sins are meant to be indulged in.

Her crimson lips curl into a placating close-mouthed smile. Her skin and hair are as pale and pristine as ever. Her perfume, as she gets closer, is heavier- spicier- but the intoxication of scent is the least of your worries. Oh no; the thing you’re most concerned about is the dress. Never have you ever seen her wear red. Not in your five and a half years of working at Nevermore. Not even in your dreams. Larissa doesn’t touch deep colors. She doesn’t wear the darker shades.

And yet?

Yet, there she is. Torturing you. Wrapping her long slim fingers around your attention span and taking all of it for herself. ‘Mine,’ is what she’s silently saying as she gives her hips some extra sway and shows off the loose sash around her waist. The dress reveals the curve of her calves and the tiniest bit of her thighs and suddenly you come to the (stupid) realization that she’s not wearing any stockings. Which she always wears. Which somehow, the absence of, makes your brain short-circuit and recalculate.

“Thank you for meeting me.” And before you even know it, there the Big Bad stands - hands clasped at her waist and head tilted to the side, looking like the cat who did not only catch the canary but also skinned, filleted, and served the little fucker up on a silver platter.

You feel the need to glare at her, to curse her for her beauty and her allure, but you simply can’t muster up the energy to do so. You’re tired- and your emotions are frayed- and you just want to rest- but clearly someone doesn’t want you to be at peace just yet. No, clearly, she wants you all to herself for just a little while. You’re not sure why, you’ve contemplated it before, but dwelling on anything regarding Larissa Weems is a spiraling whirl of insanity and despair that you just don’t wanna go down right now. So it’s better to stay in the present… and give her a little hum while you cross your arms. If she’s noticed that you take on such a defensive stance whenever she’s around, she hasn’t said anything. And she probably won’t either. Cuz she doesn’t care.

“Yup. Are we gonna get this over with or what?” It comes out harsher than you want it to, forcing your organs to immediately crinkle up like smashed paper as you cringe at your sharp tone.

Larissa fairs no better as her expression falls and her lips twist into a frown. The lines of her face become deeper when she looks so depressed, like she hasn’t slept in 80 years. You want so terribly to tell her to suck it up and stop acting like a baby, but you also know that her excitement about fun and friendliness is not a thing she fakes. The Poe Cup excites her. The Nevermore dances and activities and Outreach Day and this, that, and the other all bring her some modicum of joy. The kids themselves make her happy. It’s weird to know a person who has killed another human being and enjoyed the taste of their flesh… while also finding happiness in the simple annual events of their job. Like she has an alter ego; but you know that’s not the case. She’s 100% herself. Which is both admirable and scary.

“If you don’t want to,” Larissa hisses, making you freeze at the sound of undeniable ice in her tone, “then don’t make me force you. Go to bed, if you so wish. I’m not going to keep you against your will.”

Like a monster. She doesn’t say it, but you think that maybe she’s thinking it.

And though you want to respond and say But you are a monster. You have kept people against their will before. You have killed before. you decide to steer the conversation to safer shores and get yourself out of harm's way. Larissa doesn’t often get serious with you, but whenever she does it, you know better than to push her buttons. Certain boundaries have not yet been established. You never know if you are safe.

“Sorry- sorry. I’m just tired. Really, I’m fine. Let’s play and then we can get some rest. That sound okay?”

A dark gaze pins you to your spot, staring into the very marrow of your bones. It’s clear what she’s thinking. It’s clear what she knows. Like she knows you’re just agreeing to save your own hide. She knows you’re complying out of fear. She can’t hear your heartbeat, but she knows it’s running faster than a speeding train. She knows she’s shifted the line once again.

The only thing is that she really can’t bring herself to care.

You’ve complied. That’s all she needs.

“…Fine. Yes. Are you ready to discuss the terms?”

It’s obvious that the tension hasn’t dissipated entirely, but you figure that as the night carries on, that will change.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

Who knows? It may even be fun.

Larissa smiles.

It’s wide.

It’s.. scary.

Sharp.

A Cheshire grin.

Cold. Steely. It doesn’t reach her eyes. You feel sweat start to bead along your back.

“In the name of saving time, there will be one round. I will seek. You will hide. We will have 45 minutes in total. However, you will get a 20 second head start. Should I manage to find and catch you in under 45 minutes, you’ll join me for dinner. The main course will be poached lamb. And you will be required to eat it.” There’s a pause.

“All of it.”

Okay not fun. DEFINITELY not fun. So incredibly not fun.

You swallow.

“…And if I win?”

Then what? Then what if you win? What the fuck do you get out of this? What could she possibly give y-

“Then I will give it up.”

…What?

You look at her wildly. But there’s no expression on her face. She’s just… blank. White behind the eyes. Nothing. Apathetic.

No.

No.

Practiced indifference.

She doesn’t think you can win.

She doesn’t even want to consider you winning.

But all is fair in love and cannibalism. And she’s never been one to tip the scales.

“I’m sorry, you’ll what?” You’re just not sure you’ve heard her correctly. She’ll ‘give it up’?

Larissa sighs, her lashes fluttering as she purses her lips and gives you a ‘look’.

“If you win, I’ll give it up.”

…And that’s it? That’s all she’s gonna give you?

“What do you even mean? Give up the whole killing people and eating them thing? The-” You look around, suddenly nervous about a creature somehow lurking in the shadows. One can never be too careful. Probably best that you don’t speak so loudly. “-the cannibalism?” Your body leans closer to her as you whisper, though your eyes stray and scan the shadowed columns and walls of the entrance hall.

Larissa of course takes that opportunity to get closer to you and bends down at the waist, lining her lips up to your ear while you’re distracted.

“Yes, darling. I’ll give up the cannibalism.” And her voice is so husky and her breath is so warm, flushed against the side of your neck, that you nearly fall right to your knees.

I’ll give up the cannibalism.

Oh you could laugh. You could laugh and you could laugh hard. She’s joking- she has to be. And you’re about to tell her that, you’re about to turn your head and tell her not to fuck around with you, but then your cheeks brush and suddenly you’re letting out an embarrassing squeak and stumbling back to hit the door behind you.

She blinks, straightens up, and smiles down at you as though nothing ever happened.

It’s infuriating.

“You’re lying. You wouldn’t do that.”

A light eyebrow quirks up.

“Wouldn’t I?”

A heavy staring contest ensues; but you’re the only one trying not to blink - Larissa is just looking. And smirking. And god fuck her for being so fucking gorgeous.

“I’m a woman of my word, Y/n,” she purrs, watching with such amusement as you desperately try to collect yourself and steer yourself back on track.

Not that the track was very clear nor sane in the first place. In fact, the track probably leads to Hell.

Oh well.

You were never getting through the pearly gates anyway.

“Okay,” you decide, looking her up and down. “If I win, you stop it. All of it. No more killing, eating, nothing. The only protein you consume comes from livestock. Not human livestock. Just- livestock.” You nod to yourself, giving her a firm stare.

But just because you reaffirmed what happens if you win doesn’t mean you will. And she knows that. So she hums and turns on one heel, taking her burning gaze away from you and sweeping it over the floors and walls- down into the darkness of the corridors. You don’t know what she’s thinking, but you have a feeling it’s not good. Larissa can be very sneaky when she wants to be… cheating, at least in a playful little game like the one you’ll be having, is certainly not below her. In fact, she’s entirely capable of winning. Like on a level you could not even imagine. She’s been around Nevermore for how long? Counting her years in the Academy as a student and as an adult… knowing her roommate used to be the cunning and sly Morticia Frump neé Addams… well. Her big sexy shapeshifter brain probably has the entire fucking place memorized.

And you haven’t even been there for six years.

So you’re saying you’re doomed.

Yeah. Basically.

“Yes,” Larissa finally confirms, turning back to you with a quick shift of her legs. “And if I win, you dine with me.” Oh she looks so excited about that. Her eyes, somehow, are darker than they were before. No light reflects at all as they carve into your soul. Already you can tell that she’s imagining how she’ll cook the meat.

“…Poached lamb, you said?”

She grins, her smile sudden like she’s surprised (and delighted) that you remembered.

“Yes. Would you like to know what other dishes I’ll be preparing?”

At the sound of her cheery tone, your expression sets into a scowl.

“You’re talking as if you’ve won already. What makes you think that’ll happen?”

Her physical response is minuscule. Barely even there. But you notice the slight way in which her cheek twitches; and you see how her hands tighten around each other. When she responds, her red lips are curved into a smirk and her voice is soft. Soft and kind. It sends a blaze of hot warmth across your body.

“I find acting as though you already have the thing you want tends to result in obtaining it.” Her head tilts. Her eyes run over your body. From your feet to your head, over the swaying black cotton dress you’re wearing and the necklaces you have draped over your collarbones. Slow and steady. Tracing your arms… your legs… your shoulders… your waist… your breasts and your hair… not hungry for your flesh in her stomach, but hungry for your skin against her tongue. Your skin against her lips. Your skin against her own. She lets out a sigh. “And I want you.”

It’s breathed out into the night - and accompanied by the sudden loud chime of Nevermore’s clock tower.

You jump at the sound of it, immediately slapping a hand over your heart in shock.

“Goddammit! That fucking thing gets me every time.” It’s definitely not the thing to be focusing on, but you’re not sure you have the mental capacity to pick through and understand the implications behind Larissa’s words. As it is, the change of the hour means you have even less time to play before the rest of the staff and the children return.

Larissa, of course, did not jump out of her bloody skin. Instead, she watched your body tense and your eyes widen with no small amount of fondness. She thought you were silly. Adorable. Hers.

“I suppose that’s our cue, then. Are you ready to begin?” Her white teeth glimmer when she turns to glance up at the staircase.

You feel your heart start to thump within your ears.

Always the little lamb, aren’t you darling?

Yes.

Always the prey.

Yes.

Meant to be hunted.

Yes.

Meant to be found.

Yes.

No.

Wait. …Meant to be found?

No...

No no no no no no.

Not meant to be found. Not meant to be found at all. The whole point is not to be found. The whole point is to escape.

Oh? What are you escaping from? There is no one here to hurt you. There is no one here to get you. You are safe. You are safe.

Oh if only that were true…

If only she could love you without wanting to swallow you whole.

You finally sigh, resigned and tired.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, Larissa.”

«——..✞..——»

Can you tell I’m hyperfixating on her? Thank you so much for the love. (Let’s just pretend Nevermore’s clocktower works. And the power being out will come into play in the next part ;)) - Rip x

(P.S. Tell me who you want to win in the game of hide and seek.)

(P.P.S. Most of the meat referenced in this series is code for human flesh. ‘Long pork’, for example, is the official name for human. Here, the ‘poached lamb’ and other types mentioned in future is also code. Thx.)

«——..✞..——»

[groversimp]

If you are still taking request can you write a lityerses x fem Aphroditekid!reader? Maybe where he is questioning why they are in love with him and question if it’s because she’s the daughter of the goddess of love and that’s the only reason she loves him (if that make sense) but she temporarily loses her powers due to a quest (they come back st the end) and it proves she really does love him! Super fluffy with angst at the beginning. Like that cute domestic stuff where they are baking and stuff since her powers are gone and she has nothing to do. Idk if I’m doing this right because I’ve never done This before. If I did this right thank you in advance❤️❤️❤️❤️

Also I hope this entire thing makes sense to you<3

But You Tolerate It

I wrote half of this and it DELETED ITSELF.

so we had to start over

warnings: angst mwahaha, but they make up, insecurities, silly silly, hints of toxicity?

they don’t bake but they do play with plants!!!

You stared at your hands, blankly. The buzzing of your cheap-ass fan only amplifies the heavy beating of your aching head.

The quest wasn’t supposed to go wrong, just a simple task for your mother. How did you know that you’d run into your brothers Phobos and Deimos? How did you know that they wouldn’t recognize you?

The burn of a new scar along your face does little to settle you, the inability to feel your newly-lose powers only makes it worse.

They stole them, your powers, and trapped them in a jar along with their other collections- collections of broken hearts and stolen dreams.

The fight with Lityerses was what really messed you up though.

“Do you even care?” He yelled, a hidden sadness behind his blazing fury. “Of course I do,” you cried back- nearly in hysterics. “Really,” he days with a scoff. Lityerses turns, not facing you as he grabs his sword off the bed. “Well it doesn’t seem like it.” The door shut, even as you begged him to just come back- that you two could fix this. The mangled remains of your relationship echoed throughout the room as you sat on the bed.

Here you were, in the same position as you were an hour ago.

You hadn’t told him about your powers being lost, he didn’t give you the chance. Sucking in your tears, you stand and walk to the mirror, wiping off the remaining on your face.

You wipe off your makeup, wash your face, do skincare, and then re-apply makeup. You look better now- the cried mascara streaks no longer on your face, you smile half-heartedly at your reflection. Makeup always felt better when you had your powers.

Then, you go on the hunt for Lityerses. After what feels like forever, saying hi to everyone you see and asking around if anyone else has seen him, you find him in the gardens. He sits on one of the wooden benches and stares at a patch of wilting flowers. Your heart aches to reach out and sooth the worried expression from him face- to kiss it better and tell him he was yours.

But, for now, you just sat down next to him and avoided eye contact.

After a few minutes, he said your name. “Y/n,” his voice was husky and it sent chills down your spine. You offer him a soft, slightly sad smile. “Lit,” you say back to him.

You wanted to yell at him, to let him taste the poison that lay beneath your tongue- courtesy of your mother. But when he pulled you closer, and you set your head on his shoulder, the words died on your tongue.

It would always be like this- you would forgive as soon as he tried to get you back. You truly were the worlds most hopeless romantic, your heart not only beating for him but for the concept of love as well.

You clung onto him like he was oxygen.

And maybe he was. Maybe Lityerses was the breath in your lungs, maybe that’s why it burned when he was gone. Why you’re always safe with him but get hurt once he leaves.

He presses a kiss against your hair, muttering something that resembled an apology. You bit your lip but looked up at him.

“I do care,” you tell him softly. “I know,” he responds.

He was your night in shining armor, your Lit.

You sighed into him, sinking deeper and deeper into his warmth. He was— is— all you need.

His fingers tangled in your hair and you softly chuckled at the soft kisses he pressed to your face. You muttered his name and he only hummed in response.

“I love you,” your words are so soft the wind could’ve blown them away. Never to be heard by Lityerses. But, he heard you. He always does.

“I love you.” He repeats back after a moment, more sure than you were. More hard. He knew what he wants and who he is- and what he wants is you.