#Divider credit: saradika-graphics

[voxofthevoid]

Yo, it's Demon/Hunter Horror Wednesday #16—first WIP Wednesday of the year, technically, since the last week ended up being excerpt games.

I still don't have any straight-up porn to post (only two such scenes left in the whole fic, and the next two chapters should cover those), but I did write two interlinked scenes featuring Yuuji, Gojou, and Tōji that should be entertaining on their own—and maybe tease some of the missing context 👀

“So he did come,” Satoru murmurs. “We have a guest, Yuuji.”

Yuuji drags his mind to the present—and the man lounging on Satoru’s front steps. “Tōji-san?”

A lazy wave. “Yo. Playing favorites, Six Eyes?”

“H-huh?”

“Not you, kid.”

“Nothing of the sort,” Satoru says pleasantly. “I’m perfectly willing to involve Megumi. Are you?”

Tōji continues to stare up at them, his eyes narrow slits despite the angle. When Yuuji looks at Satoru, he finds a bland smile that gives nothing away.

“Involve Fushiguro in what?” Yuuji asks. “Guys?”

“Training.” Satoru’s the one who replies, and it’s the same tone as before but…different somehow. “Tōji here would make a better teacher for you than for Megumi, but I’m far more versatile. There’s a lot I could teach your cute little son—isn’t that right, Papa-san?”

“Don’t push it, you little shit.”

Satoru’s grin widens unsettlingly. “Is that a no?”

“You know damn well you’re not touching that brat for three more years. Or did you get fucked so hard you forgot to count?”

Heat rushes to Yuuji’s face, but Satoru only laughs.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he says.

“What the hell is going on?” Yuuji grits out.

Two pairs of unfairly intense eyes snap to him. Yuuji holds Tōji’s gaze and ignores Satoru’s. Both these men are intimidating, but Yuuji’s been surviving Sukuna and his freakshow for fucking months.

“Heh.” Tōji stands up—and up and up, unfolding his entire immense bulk. He finishes it off with a leisurely stretch of his arms above his head; the fabric around his biceps cries for help. “At least you’ll be more fun than all this grunt work. Don’t disappoint me too much, pinkie.”

“Careful,” Satoru chimes in. His hand comes to rest on Yuuji’s shoulder, the touch light but the weight heavy. “You’re not allowed to break Yuuji.”

“How stupid do you think I am?”

“Stupid?” Satoru tilts his head, the movement oddly liquid. “Not at all. You do, however, have a track record of trying to kill hapless teenagers.”

Tōji snorts. “Hapless my ass. You and your dead boyfriend were monsters.”

Satoru’s hand flexes on Yuuji’s shoulder, tightening briefly before relaxing with a deliberation that makes Yuuji’s own knuckles ache. “Takes one to know one.”

“Sure does.” Tōji’s eyes sweep back to Yuuji. “Let’s see where you fall on the spectrum. Training wheels are off, kiddo. You’re playing with the big boys now.”

“Uh…” Yuuji looks between the two of them; Satoru’s smile tells him as much as Tōji’s sneer does—absolutely nothing. “I have no idea what you two are talking about.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll do fine. Tōji’s here to train your body. I’ll take over later to hone your spiritual senses. Ideally, I’d do both, but I have a demon to corral—and you two get along well enough. Still, don’t let him bully you, Yuuji.”

“You’re one to talk,” Tōji drawls. “The kid looks like he’d crawl out of his skin to get away from you.”

Yuuji freezes.

At his side, Satoru does too. Then the hand on Yuuji’s shoulder falls away.

Yuuji doesn’t miss it; he doesn’t.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Satoru says blandly, stepping back and out of Yuuji’s peripheral vision. “Yuuji has a key. I’ll be back before nightfall.”

There’s a soft, strange noise—displaced air, with an electric crackle. Yuuji’s heard it exactly once before, in that deserted road in front of Sukuna’s church a second before Satoru showed him it wasn’t so deserted after all.

When he turns around, Satoru’s gone.

“Idiot,” Tōji scoffs behind him. “Come on, pinkie. Let’s beat you into shape.”

-

The spar with Tōji ends very predictably.

There was a moment there at the start when Yuuji thought he might be able to put up a better fight. Sukuna is a lot more formidable than the high school bullies and yakuza wannabes who had been the extent of Yuuji’s fighting experience the last time he’d tangled with Tōji, and Yuuji’s never once won against Sukuna either, but he’s learned a lot.

He’s changed, in ways he can sometimes feel like stains in his soul.

But one second was all it took for Yuuji to realize just how much Tōji had been holding back the first and no-longer-only time they’d done this, and then he was getting real closely acquainted with the bark of a tree.

That first and no-longer-only fight feels like a joke now. It must have felt like one to Tōji. And it’s not like Yuuji had walked away from that either, but he’d felt all warm about Tōji’s appraisal afterward, and there’d been a fun thrill to the way Fushiguro had looked at him, his expression grudgingly impressed despite how he’d warned Yuuji away from his dad’s antics.

What just happened feels more like utter slaughter. Yuuji’s bones are unbroken and there are no holes in his body, but even the worst Sukuna had done to him hadn’t been so one-sided.

A pair of feet enter his peripheral vision.

Tōji’s dark eyes peer down at him. His expression is…no different than what he wears when he greets Yuuji at the door. Boredom, mostly, but with an edge to it that warrants straightened spines and ready hands.

He says, “You fight differently.”

Yuuji tries to ask a question, but all that comes out is a weak croak.

Tōji lets out an amused huff and raises a hand. It’s clutching a bottle of water. When did he—

“Ack—” Yuuji gasps and sputters as the water is poured onto his hot, swollen face, and some of it goes inside, soothing his throat almost by accident. It’s a miracle none of it ends up in his windpipe. “Tōji-san! Cut it out!”

“Look at that, you’re alive,” Tōji drawls, but the stream of water cuts off. “Just watering you. Hydration is important.”

Yuuji glares up at him. “I’m not a plant.”

“You’re about as useless as one right now.” Tōji crouches down, and Yuuji tries to brace himself, an instinct violently obtained in the last handful of minutes, but those hands don’t reach for him with the intent to hurt, just dangle between Tōji’s spread legs while he surveys Yuuji with unreadable eyes. “Eh, I guess you’ll do.”

“What did you mean?” Yuuji asks, blinking hard to make his eyes stop stinging from the water assault. The cuts all over his face and neck burn, but that’s easy enough to ignore. The rest of his body feels like one big bruise. “How am I fighting differently?”

“You’ve learned what real pain feels like.” Tōji’s voice is low, his eyes unblinking. “And it doesn’t bother you much. It shows. It always does.”

“…Oh.”

“Don’t let it get to your head. You’ve still got a ways to go.” Tōji cracks his neck, veins bulging along the thick column of it. “At least training you won’t be a total waste.”

Yuuji bites his lip, reminded of something he’d thought of in scattered bursts in the couple of minutes between Satoru leaving and Tōji laying into him. “Tōji-san, is it really alright to leave Fushiguro out of this?”

“Out of what? This ain’t some super cool club, pinkie. You’re here to get beaten up till you’re a little less likely to shit yourself and die if one of those fuckers that go bump in the night looks at you wrong. What, you want company in your misery?”

“No, that’s not—” Yuuji takes a deep breath, trying to figure out what he does want to say. “It’s nothing like that. I’m just worried. Sukuna knows him, he’s—sorry, it’s my fault, I should’ve—”

“Can it.” Tōji pulls a face, blowing out an explosive breath. “Kids these days. You didn’t do shit. This is just the ugly, festering face of reality. Most people just can’t see it. Sometimes, they’re lucky for it. Sometimes, they’re just dumb cattle. That’s the way it is.”

Yuuji can’t help thinking of what Satoru said yesterday about monsters and people—about food and feasting.

“Won’t he be safer,” he asks quietly, “if he can protect himself better?”

Tōji blinks, a languid motion that leaves his eyes heavy-lidded. “Is that what you think he’s doing with you?”

“H-huh?”

“Gojou,” Tōji clarifies, except it doesn’t explain anything at all.

“I don’t—”

“Make no mistake, kid—this is a farce. I don’t know why he’s bothering. I can guess, but I don’t really give a fuck. Just take what you’re given and hope you’ll live long enough to use it. It won’t be here. It won’t even be this year. I know too well what it takes to make a hunter worth the air they waste.” The base of the plastic bottle, still heavy with water, is brought to rest against Yuuji’s stomach. It taps idly, once. Then it presses unerringly into a bruise, and Yuuji’s left breathing slow and soft past the burst of pain. “At least you’ve got a good body. You even know how to use it. It’s still not enough. Megumi? He’d need to eat the thing in the church to even taste his own damn power. Now call that a fucking birthright.”

Yuuji swallows, tasting blood, and that’s just the cut inside his mouth from when a punch shoved his flesh against his own canine, but the undertone of rot is something else, isn’t it?

“Tōji-san…”

“You’re just brats who’d be useless in this fight.” Tōji rises to his feet in one fluid motion, turning away from Yuuji. “So stay brats.”

Yuuji breathlessly watches him take a few steps toward the open back door of Gojou’s house.

Then— “Satoru said you tried to kill him.”

Tōji pauses, doesn’t look back. “Sure did.”

And Yuuji’s not surprised, not really. He heard what these two said. But it was a lot, and he still doesn’t know what to feel about hapless teenagers and dead boyfriends and monsters.

He can still see the shape of a story; it’s not a good one.

“Was he my age then?”

“Who knows.”

“He was still young.”

“He was a brat too, if that’s what you’re getting at. Should’ve been an easy kill. Would’ve saved us all some trouble if I’d finished the damn job.” Tōji sticks a finger in his ear, giving it a violent shake. “Whatever. This pays better.”

[ruins-of-babylon]

Harry Potter Masterlist:

Blaise Zabini

Draco Malfoy

Lorenzo Berkshire

Mattheo Riddle

Pansy Parkinson

Theodore Nott

Tom Riddle

All of them!

[generalsdiary]

you brought your partner a flower bouquet. it isn’t something they often receive, and you felt a desire to change that. being a solemn, thoughtful person after thanking you they said;

“yes… it is sad that I’ll have to watch them die.” “they started dying the moment they were picked. kind of like humans, from the age of 25 their bodies officially begin to die.” upon hearing your words they look back at you, sharing a knowing look. “that is too short. I…” they clench their jaw for a moment. “humans have too short of a life span. we- I will find a way” soft, whispered words flowing between you two like a breeze on an early spring morning.

depending on the context behind their words, that perhaps brought you joy, that your loved one would go above and beyond to have as much time as possible with you. or it filled you with fear, knowing their history with such ways of life manipulation.

“no matter how much time we have, we will be alright. I cherish every moment I get with you. and once I’m gone-“

“please don’t say that.” their voice fell to a broken whisper. noticing the change in their body language, you moved closer, cupping their face, and matching their quiet tone you said, “let’s stay in the present. I’m right here, living and breathing. focus on me, on my heart,” you take their hand and place their palm on your chest. “on how it beats for you. for us.”

Dan Heng, Jingliu, Blade, Dan Feng, Neuvillette, Xiao, Wanderer, Scaramouche, Capitano

divider cr: @saradika

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Series Synopsis: A series of (mostly) unrelated one shots, featuring Oliver Aiku somehow getting involved with the love lives of various Blue Lock characters — whether he wants to or not.

SHOEI BAROU | AO3

SAE ITOSHI | AO3

TABITO KARASU | AO3

REO MIKAGE | AO3

SEISHIRO NAGI | AO3

EITA OTOYA | AO3

KENYU YUKIMIYA | AO3

OLIVER AIKU | AO3

[cherryberry-sugarandspice]

Master list of this sexy daddy 😋🤤

Fluff:

Something cute 💕 Husband 💕 King of Aftercare

Smut:

Sugar Daddy 🤤 Neighbor 🤤 Pleasure 🤤 Drabble 🤤 Drabble 2 🤤 Drabble 3

[taintandviolent]

For the ask prompt game:

"Don't say that" w Kit Walker

tw: infertility, angst, brief smut.

Kit opened the door, setting his coat down on the chair nearest to it. You felt him searching for you, felt his eyes scanning over the small of your back and the curve of your ass. His heavy steps echoed in the small house as he made his way over to you. Wordlessly, your hand moved in circles, sudsing up a plate. 

His warm chest pressed against your back and Kit began peppering little kisses along the nape of your neck. Knowing what was coming next, you immediately felt petulant and stiffened as you continued to meticulously scrub at the dishes. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Kit – you did, with everything you had. It was just that he wanted something you didn’t, and something that you’d never ever be able to give him. Still, he tried, thinking that his potent virility would puncture your insufferable, sterile womb. 

“Miss me, baby?” 

“Sure I did. I always miss you when you’re gone, Kit.”

“Mmmmfff –” His words disappeared into your skin. 

His large, warm hands explored your plush hips, squeezing the flesh hard. Teeth clenched, you bit back your words. They continued to venture further, into the crease of your thigh, heading straight for your cunt. His middle and ring finger moved together, caressing the slit. His whisperings were hot on your ear, his breath rushing down over your neck. “I wanna’ fill you up, baby.” 

“Oh, Kit - stop it!” You twisted your body away from him, furiously scrubbing at the pan.

Kit’s eyes softened, searching for a glimmer of sarcasm, of joviality. He found nothing but hardness. “Sugah’, don’t…” 

“No! Kit!” You threw the pan down, the sound of it clattering in the sink startling him. “ I’m tired of ignoring the elephant in the room. It makes me sick!” 

“Baby, listen,” he shushed, his hands clamping onto the sides of your arms. He rubbed the flesh there, trying to pacify you. He hadn’t meant anything by his casual remark, he was just trying to get you in the mood. After a long day, all he wanted was to have you to his own. As any man would. 

Bracing yourself on the sink, you leaned over it, watching as the suds sloshed back and forth, tiny bubbles popping. Tears welled up in your eyes, stinging the corners. You hadn’t wanted to cry today, you were so tired of feeling this – every time he came onto you, the worry was in the back of your mind. Finally, you turned to him and spoke, struggling to keep your voice steady. 

“Kit, you know damn well that filling me up isn’t going to do anything. And even if it did, you know how I feel about that. I’m broken. I’m broken and you know it.”

“You’re not broken, sugah’ - there ain’t a damn thing wrong with ya’.” 

“Maybe I ought to go to Briarcliff. Maybe if they fry my brain long enough, it’ll fix me”  

“Don’t say that.” He squared his shoulders. “Don’t say that.”

[mysticum-draconis]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓖𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓱

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥, "𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘎𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬! 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘚𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘕𝘪𝘤𝘬!" 🎅

Not exactly the right quote with the right image, but it seemed to fit better.

I drew this in December of 2022, copying a still from How the Grinch Stole Christmas! (1966) Christmas special, narrated by Boris Karloff.

Although I didn't think so at the time, this is probably the best thing I drew in 2022. I'm still pretty pleased with how it came out, although now I would’ve coloured him with felt-tip or brush pens, to get the smoother, 2D cartoon look. I don't care much for the grainy, pencil look I ended up getting here.

HB mechanical pencil and Lyra colouring pencils on 160 gsm paper.

Closeup below cut.

Please don’t use or repost here or on other websites without credit or permission, thanks 🙏

Dividers: @/saradika-graphics

[chubbygrape]

DD Chapter 53 ⊹ Journal Spread ☠

was giggling and kicking my feet making this lLLooollll <3 Joking (am i), but he seriously looked scrumptious in this new chapter << dont catch me seeing a man I like looking tired and scruffy i tweak a bit

But on a serious note this spread ended up coming out SO cute, I had no clue where I was going with it at first so im rl proud of how it came out [i struggle so much with taking pictures tho ngl i might just get a scanner one day]

[bangtanhoneys]

MASTER LIST

BTS 8th Member - Grace Chu Moments, Tour Masterlist

BTS 8th Member - Grace Chu Main Masterlist (career)

BTS Wedding Moodboards

Namjoon / Seokjin / Yoongi / Hoseok / Jimin / Taehyung / Jungkook

BTS Wedding Series - Completed

The Bangtan Baby

Bangtan Baby 25 Prompts

Christmas prompts

REQUESTS: ARE OPEN!

Kofi - support with tea or coffee!

Anons

🪻⏳🌊💖💜

[4th-make-quail]

QUAIL. Genus sleepy

she/he ~ 30+

Your local old man enthusiast and villainfucker extraordinaire! Writer of unpopular ships in unpopular configurations, gifmaker, and general all-round menace.

Your Kink is Not My Kink and That's Okay - antis can go get fucked, basically! Functionally "proship" but I really hate the label, so make of that what you will. If you're into policing morality, I don't want to know you, and I am extremely free with my block button.

ABOUT QUAIL

info page ~ tags page (wip)

TAGS OF NOTE

quail's fic ~ quail's gifs ~ quail's edits

old man bone zone ~ eric bogosian/assad zaman ~ ffxii

[voxofthevoid]

Tis Demon/Hunter Horror Wednesday #13.

Sukuna is back and traumatizing Yuuji with hole (...many holes this time) as usual, but as per yesterday's poll, this week's offering is also goyuu—specifically, Gojou taking a big dick and almost regretting it. The almost is load-bearing.

Eat up 🍨

Satoru bottoms out with a grunt that shudders in his throat like it’s caught on something bigger and meatier than the wet muscles there. When he swallows, he can almost taste it.

Under him, Yuuji’s all tightly shut eyes and clenching fists, and with the way he’s clenching his jaw and panting through his nose, you’d think he’s hurting. But the cock lodged inside Satoru tells a different story, throbbing its heat with a ferocity that seeps into his muscles, into his bones. Satoru can feel it in his goddamn spine, a gnawing ache that’s left him in cold sweat.

He shifts, telling himself it’s to find a better, kinder angle, and his body proves the futility of it by clenching tight inside and out.

Satoru doesn’t make a fucking sound, but Yuuji groans like a gutted thing.

“That’s my line,” Satoru says dazedly.

Yuuji’s eyes flutter open, satisfyingly glassy. “W-what?”

Satoru considers it. It’s rather hard. His thoughts keep scattering, his mind trying to slip down his spine to writhe in his asshole. It should really stop. There’s no space down there. Satoru’s not sure there’s enough space for what he has crammed up in there. It feels like Yuuji’s shaved off some flesh and maybe some bone to make that thing fit, and maybe it’s a good thing that Yuuji’s only other lover is a demon because Satoru can’t imagine your average teenager surviving this dick. Cute little Megumi would get torn in half.

That’s unfair. Satoru’s the one who pinned this boy down and sat on his cock. But at the end of the day, he’s the one with his ass split open; he’s allowed an uncharitable thought or ten. What Yuuji doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

Satoru, meanwhile, is being hurt by something he knows quite well. He knew what he was getting into: He’s seen and held this cock. It’s pulsed against his own length and slid maddeningly over his clenching asshole. He’s had it in his mouth just yesterday, down so deep that his lungs ached with it, and his throat didn’t stop hurting until Satoru healed it when the hot ache of it became more irritating than sweetly filthy.

But it always feels more like this—the heat, the length, the girth.

“—you—Satoru, please—”

Satoru blinks, his vision shifting from a hazy mix of energy lines and solid colors to resolve into the pretty curves of a violently flushed face. Yuuji’s staring up at him almost pleadingly, his eyes gone all big and dark.

“You say something?” Satoru asks.

“Move,” Yuuji chokes out, his fingers fisting the sheets tighter till the knuckles turn white, “please.”

Satoru almost laughs. “You want me cryin’, kid?”

Yuuji’s eyes widen almost comically. “N-no, no, what—”

“Gimme a moment here.” Satoru experimentally shifts his arms without moving an inch elsewhere. It’s a good thing he keeps his nails blunt; he’d have sunk them right into Yuuji’s chest otherwise. “I did just take your monster cock.”

A high-pitched noise rends the air. Yuuji looks like he’d sink right through the mattress and also the floor underneath if Satoru wasn’t keeping him safe and snug inside him.

“I didn’t mean…” Yuuji finally pries a hand off the mattress—and promptly covers his face. “Didn’t mean it like that. Take—take your time?”

“Look at that, you’re a gentleman after all.”

Yuuji whimpers.

A part of Satoru wants to keep teasing him, but every word he says still feels like it’s fighting past the tip of Yuuji’s cock, like it’s stabbed in so deep that it’s cut him open all the way to the throat, and Satoru’s whole spine aches like it’s feeding that dirty illusion. And it’s hot—hotter than the entire rest of Yuuji, even the inside of his mouth, as if this boy runs cold just so his cock can hoard all his heat. Now it’s all pouring into Satoru, scorching him from the inside.

There are worse ways to burn.

Satoru settles his palms over the indents his nails made in Yuuji’s flesh, shifting his weight forward. Sharp pain bolts up his back, and again, Yuuji’s the one who makes a noise, but the tone’s all wrong—delight bordering on delirium. Satoru’s not quite there yet.

But god, sat on a cock like this, he fucking will be.

He breathes out slowly, forcing himself to relax. It mostly works. The tension seeps out of his shoulders, and his thighs feel less like they’re trying to shatter his own bones. His ass is a lost cause, stretched to its limit and then some. All Satoru can feel there is the shape and heat of Yuuji’s cock, but even that’s a nebulous mass of sheer sensation, its edges and ends melting into the clench of his gut and the curve of his spine and the hollow of his throat.

Yuuji’s still covering his face, fingers flexed like they’re poised to tear off whole chunks of flesh.

“Look at me, Yuuji,” Satoru orders softly. “I want you to watch this part.”

Yuuji makes a noise like Satoru’s hurting him, but his hand moves up, gripping his hair instead of his whole face, and with his forehead bared like this, Yuuji looks older and sharper—or maybe that’s the expression on his face, that hot-eyed hunger.

Satoru very slightly shifts his hips. His insides ripple in a molten rush.

“Satoru,” Yuuji gasps like a plea.

And Satoru’s body answers of its own volition, repeating that minute movement, and it’s no less vicious, the way his muscles flinch and flex around that claiming cock, but it’s not all pain, if it ever was. It’s fullness, first and foremost, his flesh sleeved on a burning bit of this boy’s body, but there’s pleasure too, throbbing with the ceaseless pressure against his prostate and even the more piercing sensations further in, where Yuuji’s reached so deep that the touch alone feels violating.

There’s just something about it—a perverse thrill in being touched where he shouldn’t be, like there are blistering fingers prying open his flesh to grope him gut-deep.

It’s also what’s keeping him here, breathless and trembling. He can move through pain, but pleasure’s a different beast.

But Satoru will mount that too.

He slides his hand from Yuuji’s chest to his shoulders, gripping tight. The muscles there tense under his palms, but their solid heat is pleasant to cling to, like the reluctant give of flesh is a sign that this body can take him well.

Satoru promptly tests it out, rocking his hips with real intent.

Excruciating pleasure bolts up his spine, and Satoru does it again before his body can grow shy, gasping sharply as the sensation doubles and triples in intensity, every lash of pain-pleasure chasing after the one before it, colliding into a scorching mass somewhere at the base of his spine, and it spreads and spreads, heating his guts and his lungs and his bones, and the source of the heat throbs inside his ass, no less devastating despite Satoru’s insides trying so hard to accommodate its size.

Below, Yuuji’s stiff all over, muscles pulled taut. He could be a marble statue if not for the warm flush gleaming under a fine sheen of sweat.

“It feels very good, doesn’t it,” Satoru says, not quite a question.

Yuuji just lets out a thin, whistling breath, a word trapped somewhere in it.

“Nothing you don’t know,” Satoru infers, admittedly unconnected to anything Yuuji’s said or done—he just remembers those claw marks, bloody and vicious. “That means I should make this memorable, hm? I do hate coming in second.”

Yuuji shakes his head, just a single frantic motion.

“Oh?” Satoru breathes, bearing down with his whole body, and there’s nothing left for him to take, his ass flush with Yuuji’s groin, but the cock impaling him still digs into whole new swathes of flesh.

Yuuji moans softly, and his lips quiver around words that make no sound. Then—

“Y-you’re not. Already, it’s—you’re always—shit, Satoru—”

Satoru smiles, unclutching one of Yuuji’s shoulders to pat his cute face. “You’re such a sweet boy.”

Yuuji’s hips buck, bouncing Satoru on his cock, and it’s a weak motion, between Yuuji’s legs being flat on the mattress and Satoru’s weight pinning him at the pelvis, but weak from someone like Yuuji is still enough to make Satoru shudder and clench, caught in a motion that’s less about movement than shifting, searing pressure, his rim screaming around the girth spreading it and his sore insides rippling around a cock that manages to find new ways to abuse what it’s already claimed.

His own cock throbs in answer, jutting out in front of him the way it has this whole time, forcing Satoru into honesty even as he writhed and grunted his way down Yuuji’s cock.

“Don’t make me take it back,” Satoru warns breathlessly, putting more weight on Yuuji’s shoulder like that’ll still the rest of him. “Stay.”

“Trying,” Yuuji gasps. “You’re just so—”

Yuuji doesn’t finish that, but Satoru’s willing to forgive him as long as he keeps looking at Satoru with those dark, burning eyes, and he’s only too willing to give Yuuji more and more reasons to keep looking, clutching him close and pinning him down and moving until they’re both plunged into an exquisite hell.

[global-kawan]

Here, I post/reblog world news and donation links. Please message me if there needs to be corrections made to any post.

[beatsboy]

8.18.24 / week 8 of being a delusional artist

day 4 of moon time

how did i live like a delusional artist today? maybe in photographing my period stains on my bed maybe in journaling my dream about my ex the minute i woke up at 7am before going right back to bed because i can’t stand to be awake for another moment after having to freshly remember that they’re not here again (these dreams are like waking up to a fresh bandaid being torn off the wound over and over again) maybe in procrastinating, for they say that all artists do this, and while i know this is true, i am struggling to get unstuck and stay unstuck lately. it’s hard to fully break out of the cave, when you’re stuck, when you’re by yourself. sweet pea helps, licking my face (i swear) to remind me to go to the bathroom, to eat, to go outside. all he does is lick my face, so i have to interpret these as signals to get moving. last night, for instance, i was sitting on my computer for far too long, on the couch next to sweet pea. and promptly, as my bladder started to nag at me to go to the bathroom, he started to lick my face, inhibiting me from using my computer.

i’m starting to think he parents me more than i parent him, and i only pretend that it’s the other way around to feel better about my lack of self-sufficiency as a human adult. my fucking goals for tomorrow are to eat 3 meals, first one before 11. like, come on.

i just feel so slow while i’m bleeding, and i know that it will be over soon, but i think part of the reason i need to spiritualize it, to give it meaning, is because it’s just so fucking painful, physically, emotionally, and generally in relation to my gender.

i was supposed to leave the house today, and i did get all ready to do so, another sunday where i put my swim trunks on and waited. this time, it never came time to go, the party wrapped early, and i remained, having spent time getting ready, covered in sunscreen, with nowhere to go. and instead of quickly pivoting to art, which was very possible at that time, i got stuck. i got stuck waiting to go to bri’s to return their keys, for no reason at all, and then got stuck when i got home, and finally unstuck enough to make myself some food at 10pm, do the dishes, change the sheets (i did do some cleaning today, just very slowly, like imagine a slug doing chores, very slowly, and getting caught on corners), and sit here and journal.

i have therapy tomorrow, and tomorrow, i swear to god, i will continue working on music again. i had a good groove of working every day, basically until i finished boypop, which some have suggested i rename (which, yes, maybe, but what?) then, i got out of it, because it is so hard for me for some reason to maintain a consistent practice with my craft while working and socializing fucking still even though i don’t even work a full-time job like that. it’s truly not that i don’t have the time, it’s that i don’t have the energy? the focus? the routine?

healthy habits start small, though, right? i am believing in my future self, that i can make the new dates i’ve set for the release timeline. and i am giving myself these deadlines because i deserve to share my work with the world and i can’t wait any longer. i believe in the artist i want to be, in the artist i will be, because i am building toward it today. i am building my practice. i know i am good at what i do, i know i can do what i need to do to finish this project. i just need to focus and finish.

i’ve never completed an album before (unless you count the collection of phone demos i dropped on soundcloud for the lore) that’s like comparing publishing a fanfic on ao3 to getting your debut novel published, there’s a lot of extra steps that separate the two. it’s all i’ve ever wanted, so why am i waiting? why would i put off becoming the pop star i have dreamt of being since i was a fucking child? i am alone in my own apartment that i pay for with my own fucking money, why am i not spending every second making art in it? this is what i have always wanted for myself, space and time to make art, and i feel like i am wasting it spiraling and cleaning and pinteresting and tumblring and cleaning and looking up if the chemicals in my soap are poisoning me (pretty sure everything is poisoning me at this point)

i want to be fair to myself, i have not been completely idle. i redid the release timeline last night. i made a pitch deck for the next photoshoot the other day. i watched alien, for research (lol, but seriously!) i have been brainstorming the entire vibe/aesthetic/characterization of this persona, trying to mend together what we initially envisioned and what the music video shoot is giving (which are kind of different things but it’s ok)

the thing is, though, these things are part of the art, they are necessary to the art, to communicating the art to the people, to the audience. that does not make them art, though. the job part. the industry part. and sometimes i get so lost in these parts, that i forget that the whole point is to be able to sustain making art for the rest of my life. and none of this bullshit is worth it if i’m not making art. and if i’m not making art, it’s not going to feel like it either.

here is to tomorrow, to getting back to a daily practice, even if it’s in the form of small steps.

[chronicvagabonds]

🔴 - introduction

chron┆25+┆any pronouns┆lgbtqia+┆multifandom┆★ hallo there, you can call me chron. this sideblog is centered around reblogging & commenting on fandom, kpop media and fanfiction. i used to write fiction myself and have been reading online for more than half my life. the main reason i set up this account is to engage with the fanfiction community and to appreciate authors and their creations by leaving nice messages. ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

🔵 - warnings

n/sfш┆mdni with #18+┆dms open┆slow updates┆★ i read and reblog both sfш and nsfш fiction. mdni when: posts are marked nsfш by the author and/or tagged #18+ by me! i check in regularly but occasionally have extended periods of time when i am inactive due to reallife responsibilities. however my dms and letterbox are always open for chatting and sharing. ◛ˎˊ˗ dear authors: please interact or reach out to me if you have any questions or something i've said or done has made you uncomfortable. i enjoy annotating and yapping endlessly over your works and never carry the intention to confuse, harm or critique others. we're all strangers on the internet but nobody says we have to stay that way. ˙ᵕ˙

🟡 - navigation

my most common tags & their meanings┆★ #★ ┆ chronic: any post, text or thought written entirely by me #★ ┆ chroncom: fanfictions i have commented and given feedback to #★ ┆ chrononymous: questions/threads i asked anonymously often as 🃏 anon #afternote: followed by keywords from an author's response to my reblog ♡ #inspiration: prompts and ideas that make me want to write #appreciation: good vibes for authors and readers #advice: tips and tricks for writers and readers #my bells: [name]: my lovely mutuals 🫶

last updated: 28/09/2024

[cherryberry-sugarandspice]

Welcome to my blog!

You can just call me Cherry 🍒

I am a fanfic writer. I've always loved writing it's a huge passion of mine. I do take requests! In my bio it'll say whether or not I am taking requests at the moment. If my bio says I am not taking requests, please respect that. However, there are things I will not write: incest, underage, zoo. I do not write those things. They make me uncomfortable and it's honestly gross. You can ask me questions though regarding fanfics (: This is a 18+ blog. Yes I will write SFW, but regardless this is a 18+ blog. My bio says MDNI so please respect that. Proship, stay the fuck off my blog. If you ship incest, such as Wanda x Pietro, block me. If you ship minor x adult, block me. If you're into zoo, block me. I do not want you interacting with my blog. It makes me uncomfortable. This is a boundary that I'm setting and if that makes you upset for me simply setting a boundary, regardless or not you're into that stuff, block me. I am responsible for my online experience, which is why I'm putting this here to simply block me. I have blocked, filtered, and stayed away from things that make me uncomfortable and that I do not like and find disgusting. If you have a problem with me not liking disgusting stuff, do me a favor and block me. My current interest is X-Men, Scarlet Witch. Main characters I write are Magneto, Rogue, Agatha, Scarlet Witch, Wonder Man

I'll link a my master lists below (I will try to update regularly):

Magneto Rogueneto House of Cherry

SM!Wanda Miguel O'Hara Magnet Family

The link to my AO3 🍒

[aeinzzzketchup]

|樂-𝑆𝑇𝐴𝑅

𓂃𓏲࣪ ʚ *taps mic* s'this thing on? 。°˖

┊… aeinz ,, aeinzie ,, zizi ,, insert anything creative you come up with. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

┊… 20 yrs. !!

┊… ult group : skz !

┊… ot8 forever !! 8 is fate. ∞ [ channie bias , hannie bias wrecker 🫠 ]

┊… skz ,, ateez (baby atiny! ᡣ𐭩) ,, bts ,, enhypen ,, tubatu ,, seventeen

┊… itzy ,, newjeans ,, aespa ,, le sserafim ,, nmixx

this may be a new blog but i am not new to tumblr !! i've been around for quite a while; i made this blog solely for skz content/brainrot, so i suppose it could be considered more of a side blog! if i suddenly disappear off the face of this blog, don't worry! i'm most likely just over at ol' main street ₍₍◞( •௰• )◟₎₎

please don't be afraid to interact with me ! i love meeting new people and i especially love interacting with my fellow stay. ᡣ𐭩 you're always more than welcome to drop by my inbox for a quick chat, a simple hi-hi, or maybe stay a while and we can share a milkshake (or your bev of choice *winks in lactose-&-talented*) ,, with two straws !! 🥰 on that same note , any rudeness will not be tolerated. it don't cost nothin' to be kind & act right. this is ultimately a safe space; at the end of the day, i want y'all to leave here happy and warm and remember it as such ᡣ𐭩

prone to updates and polishing in the near future as i sees fit !! besos, besos.

★┊𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐚𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐳𝐳𝐳𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐩. 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃. .ᐟ