#I really gotta do one with my slimes one day I think that’ll be so fun

[if-you-heart]

liquid hot magmaa

I don’t think I ever shared these… huh! anyways, real fond of these magma doodles I did awhile ago. all of these are fazgang designs except for the last one. hello opalthething soul <3

oh yea! magma boards are collaborative, right? I did this with @thewandererh hiiii

[passivenovember]

mama said to smile while I still have teeth.

(or) Post Starcourt, a very different Billy Hargrove gets his wisdom teeth removed.

--

In a moment of weakness and textbook junior year assholery, Steve gets his stomach ripped out and fed to him for suggesting that Billy could take the bus.

And it’s not without reason.

Hopper and Joyce have work. And Robin would ask too many questions--why the shaved head, why the ratty black hoodie and sweatpants, why the perpetual vow of silence--and the only one of the kids that has their permit is Dustin.

But Max behaves as if none of that matters. Looks at Steve as if he set the house on fire himself.

“Or you could take him.” She sneers. Like that’s somehow a good idea. “You have a car.”

“Billy wouldn’t get in a car with me even if you paid him.” 

Steve doesn’t say he’d rather face a barrel of Demodogs one handed than be left alone with Billy. Would rather lick black slime off his own dick than feel those silent, cool blue eyes pouring like ice water down the ridges of his skin.

Steve wants to say it. Doesn’t. When Max starts crying. “His legs don’t work as good anymore.”

“Billy gave me a concussion.”

“He’s got gas money.” She says, voice winding tight with desperation. 

And Steve despises the painful, weeping grip of her fingers when they close around his forearm. Hates that she cares so much for someone who could never care for her.

“I know it’s not much.” Max swallows thickly. “I know he used to be a piece of shit, but he’s--”

“Different.” Steve says heavily, scrubbing at his forehead. “I know.”

--

Billy slides into the passenger seat with a thermos in one hand and a cranberry muffin in the other and Steve isn’t used to it, the way his body seems to have deflated. Limbs cut from marianette strings, hanging limp as if gravity hasn’t quite learned what to do with them. 

Billy places the muffin and the thermos on the dashboard between them, and.

Steve expects something.

A thank you, which could come later. A hello, which should come now.

Billy nods at the dashboard.

Steve jots into action. “Oh. These aren’t for you?”

Billy grunts, reaching to pass the goodies over as if Steve were incapable of doing it himself. The thermos is warm in Steve’s hand. Sturdy. 

“Coffee?” He asks, jerking with surprise when Billy mutters; “Hazelnut.” In a voice as soft as feather down. 

Steve waits for Billy to say something else, but. 

Billy doesn’t. He just turns and peers out the passenger side window, into the gentle swell of rain that’s started to fall.

“Thanks. Thank you.” Steve says. He starts the car. Lets it warm, and. 

Tries not to feel like this is the first time their bodies have had to reacquaint themselves with one another. 

Tries not to marvel at how beautiful silvery thin lines can be. Running from the shell of an ear and disappearing, quick, into the hood nestled around broad shoulders. 

Steve rubs his hands together, tearing his eyes away. “First time at the dentist?”

And Billy doesn’t say anything. 

Never says anything, anymore, but. That doesn’t stop the conversation from feeling communal. Shared.

“I got my wisdom teeth out when I was fourteen.” Steve peers through the windshield. It’s raining harder now. “Don’t remember much about the whole thing. Mom says I tried to stop the aquarium fish from drowning. And that I had to be double belted on the way home--”

“Will it hurt?” Billy turns to look at him, and. His eyes are welling up. Cheeks and nose red, as if stung by October winds. 

Billy whispers, “I wanted Max to come but she had school.” 

His hand is covered by the sleeve of his hoodie, fabric scrubbing rough at the stubble along his jaw. “Did they hurt you?” Billy asks, and.

Steve doesn’t like the way he says it. 

Like there really is something to be afraid of, at the core of it all. Like no one has ever considered the possibility.

“It’s not so bad.” Steve’s heart gives a painful, gripping thud. “You get a free ice pack out of the deal and decent high from the silly gas, if you’re lucky.”

Billy nods. “We’re gonna be late.”

Which. “Yeah, sorry.” 

“It’s alright.”

“We’ll get you there lickety-split.” Steve pulls out of the driveway, fingers gripping the wheel when Billy places the still-warm muffin in his lap.

--

He sticks around for the procedure just to stop Billy from looking like he’s being dropped at his first day of kindergarten. The waiting room is bright. Warm and colorful, plush couches stocked full of overstuffed pillows. All within throwing distance of machine labeled free coffee :)

Not a bad dig, all things considered, but.

Billy says Steve doesn’t have to wait around. Doesn’t even have to come back at all. The nurse calls his name and Billy stands, shoulders lined with tension, before turning to whisper, “I’ll take the bus back to Neil’s.”

And Steve knows. Gets it. 

The universe running a test. An experiment that will prove whether Steve’s really got a heart under all that chest hair. 

Steve lifts his Highlights magazine. “I’m good.”

“Really?”

“Dude, It’s pouring outside,” Steve says, shaking his hair out for good measure. “I’ll just wait. In case you’re too high to function.”

Billy looks like he wants to say something else, so. Steve gives his full attention. Plans on the preverbal thank you that’ll probably never come, but. The nurse calls that name again. 

Billy Hargrove.

And Billy turns to go, hands tangled in the sleeves of his hoodie. 

--

His cheeks are swollen, like. 

A chipmunk. 

Stuffed full of little cotton pads that could be acorns. That are acorns, Billy insists, when the nurse brings Steve back to the operation room. He’s parked on the dentist bench. Curled into a ball with a thumb in his mouth when Steve rounds the corner. 

“Steve,” Billy says thickly. “They took my teeth out but I have acorns.” He reaches across the space between them, fingers grasping Steve’s wrist tightly.

Too tight, but. 

Steve can’t bring himself to care when the nurse says, “Billy, take your thumb out of you mouth.”

And Billy says. “I need to suck on something cold.” He pulls Steve right up to the edge of the bench, sitting with a serious glint in his eye. “Our acorns will be good for winter, right?”

He sways, nearly falling off the leather table, so.

Steve grasps his shoulder. Puts him back in place. “Probably? I don’t think acorns go bad.”

“We gotta make sure, ‘cause I don’t want you to starve.” Billy slurs, dropping to dead weigh when the nurse gets an arm underneath him and asks Steve to get the kid on his feet. 

Billy lands somewhere against Steve’s ribs, swaying dramatically as bright red drool slides over his chin. 

The nurse swears under her breath, going at it with a towel. 

Billy swats her hand away. He staggers as Steve thanks the nurse and leads them into the waiting room. 

“You’re so pretty, Stever.” Billy reaches out again, fingertips poking Steve’s eyelid. “Can’t starve for the winter. Gotta get pretty boys their acorns--”

“Stop poking me--”

“Acorn soup.” Billy sings. “Acorn pie and casserole and lollipops covered in sugar.”

Steve manages to get the doors open with zero help from Billy, chuckling as warm, soft palms circle around his shoulder blades. 

They’re hugging. 

In the rain. 

At the dentist’s office.

Steve hugs back, squawking when Billy’s nose brushes against his heartbeat. “C’mon, dude, we gotta--”

“Will you carry me, Stever?”

“No.” Steve says, manhandling Billy from his chest to his ribcage, determined to make it across the lot in one piece. “You’re solid muscle, there’s no way I could carry you.”

Billy makes a noise, pretty pink lips forming a pout when Steve looks over at him. 

“I got all the acorns ready for winter and you can’t carry me to the car?” Billy grumbles, leaning against the side of the Beamer while Steve gets his key into the lock. 

Steve untangles himself from the arms that fold around his waist. “Billy--”

“You smell like grass.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No, like sweet grass.” Billy cackles, doubling over at his own joke, and. Pulling Steve down with him. “Sweet ass, right?”

“You’re insane.” Steve whispers, somehow out of breath from. The hands on his neck. He let’s Billy pet through his hair and then Steve yanks on the door handle, opening it, like, “Alright. Get in.”

Billy has more blood on his face. “Wanna sit with you.”

“We will.”

“Can I lay on your chest?”

Steve’s face hurts from smiling. “You won’t fit.”

“I could!” Billy whimpers, jerking away from Steve as he tries to get the blood off his chin. “I could be like a kitty cat--”

“Would you just--” Steve gets his hands on him, wiping at Billy’s mouth with his thumb. “Hold still, alright?”

“Alright.” Billy kisses Steve’s finger. Chaste and quick, gone before either really know what’s happening. Those blue eyes pull Steve in, drink him down. “How come you’re so pretty?” Billy asks. 

And. “Dunno,” Steve says, sounding just as out of breath as he feels. Like they’ve been running laps, and. 

Steve thinks maybe they have.

All around Hawkins. Through the years. Past each other. 

Billy holds still under the weight of ten fingers before frowning. Sticking his little swollen lip out. “Can we go home now?”

Steve backs away, gripping the edge of the door. “Sure.”

“Not to Neil’s,” Billy mutters to himself, leaning into the leather seat when Steve gets his limbs folded into the car. He cranes his head, eyes huge and watery. “Can I hang out with you?”

Steve moves to close the door. “Sure.”

Billy stops him. “Are you mad at me?”

“No, Billy.”

“Then why are you trying to close the door?” Billy demands, peering through narrowed eyes. 

Steve chuckles at that, squeezing the fingers that curl into the palm of his hand. “We gotta close the door so we can drive the car back to my house.”

Billy yanks his hand away. “Your house.” He says, as if tasting the words on his tongue.

Steve nods. “Do you want to go to my house?”

“Do you have macaroni and cheese?”

“Yeah, I can.” Steve wills himself to stop smiling. “I can make some after you take a nap.”

Billy stops the door from closing again. “I’ll be cold if I try to sleep.” 

And he says it like.

No one’s ever believed him. Billy speaks with an anchor in his voice, the weight of it pulling Steve in. Forward, until he understands. 

Steve grips the edge of the door. 

Nods. Let’s Billy know that there are ways around it. 

Billy’s crying, and. Steve doesn’t want to see him cry anymore. Every again. They’ve been through too much. He takes Billy’s hand and squeezes tight, smiling softly when cool blue eyes peer up at him. 

“Then we can eat macaroni and watch T.V.--”

“We can?”

“Yeah,” Steve says softly. “And when you’re ready to go home I’ll take you. Keep you safe.”

He moves to close the door, chucking when a firm, sure hand holds it in place. 

Billy stares at him. “What if I never wanna go home again?”

Steve thinks about it, tapping his knuckles on the hood of the car. He shrugs. “Guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Billy says.

This time, when the door is closed, Steve runs to the other side. Not wanting to miss a single moment.

[aching-tummies]

Hunger-kink Fantasies

I never really considered being into dom/sub stuff...but the idea of having a partner I trust deciding that I am gonna fast for a bit and having them palming and pressing into my sore, empty, growling tummy until either they're satisfied or until I implement the agreed-upon safe-word/signal that means "ok...this isn't fun anymore. Stop" is pretty dang tempting. \or a partner that'll take advantage of me being hungry--their first thought isn't to fill my belly but to explore it. I guess what I love about hunger is the sensations. The cramping, the rumbling from the grumbles, the squeezing feeling that sort of travels around my digestive system. That's some good stuff right there.

I'm not big on talking, I guess--the usual verbal stuff online doesn't do much for me and sometimes all it takes is a single word or phrase to just shut down my desire for this sort of thing. Very little in the verbal department does it for me and I haven't been able to figure out what's good/bad for me so I'd rather avoid the verbal stuff entirely. It's not the idea of having a partner talking down at me for being hungry or about my body or whatever, but more about the sensations from my stomach. Having hunger pangs is one thing. Rubbing them out myself is one thing. Having a partner do as they will to my stomach lends a bit of unpredictability to the scenario. Will what they do alleviate the hunger cramps or intensify them? Does it feel any different having someone else rub my tummy? What about their own will? Are they more inclined to make my stomach hurt more or to make it hurt less? The idea that my guts are their plaything...like a child fascinated with slime or putty.

A hunger-kink fantasy I have is that my partner would find me hungry--whether it's after being immersed in a project for hours and forgetting to eat, or it's the middle of the night and various factors came together to cause me to be in the grips of some painful hunger pangs in the middle of the night. It's the middle of the night and I'm starving. Loud and deep grumbles escape my tummy with every cramp as my innards convulse against themselves, angry at the lack of food to digest. The noises from my tummy and/or my writhing from the sensations alerts my partner. It's the middle of the night and it's likely I can't be bothered to eat at that hour...but after some signal to confirm that I'd rather stick it out until breakfast (or lunch/dinner) and be hungry and that I'm gonna give into kink for the moment...well, I think it'd be fun to see what my partner would do at that moment. Soothe the cramps? Make it worse? Would they push against the cramps or around the cramping to intensify it? Putting pressure directly under my left rib where the worst of the cramping usually starts is one thing...but I've found that rubbing circles into my lower stomach--around my navel--with my thumb usually produces some constant and loud grumbles. It's like the rubbing has stimulated my intestines to begin peristalsis and jump-start the whole factory. What started as just my stomach/duodenum grumbling for nourishment becomes my entire digestive tract convulsing and demanding food. Whenever I do this to myself the cramping gets worse, I've found. If I leave it alone it's just the squeezing feeling under my left rib. I can still function normally and go about my day like nothing is happening. When I awaken the rest of my digestive system the cramping intensifies to the point that I've gotta curl up around it. It feels deeper and more intense and it feels like my guts are folding in on themselves and getting tighter and tighter. The cramping builds and builds--like approaching the peak of some disasterous roller coaster with a blindfold on. You know you're going up. You know there's gonna be a peak...but you don't know when that is or how long you'll be climbing. Eventually, the peak is reached and it's at this point something in my abdomen growls. When I get really hungry there isn't too much of a sense of relief, but the growls are an external sign that the specific area it's coming from has released it's vice-like cramping...for now. A big part of my fantasy is having a partner who'll be content to prod around my tummy for a while, causing growls, releasing some cramps/growls prematurely or trying to consolidate it all into one massive, painful cramp somewhere. I wanna feel someone tracing my intestines, pushing a hunger pang through the intestines and basically mapping out my guts with their fingertips. I want to feel if it's possible to push a hunger pang around my guts--moving it from my duodenum to my navel and back again. I want a partner that's just as fascinated as I am by the activity under my skin, someone who is good at manipulating my digestive organs. Someone who's first thought isn't "she's hungry, I should feed and care for her" but "she's hungry...does she wanna be fed? Hm...no? Alright--lets see what makes this tummy tick".

If anyone knows any hunger-centric fics, the kind that focuses and hits hard on the sensations of a hungry tummy rather than on the feeding aspect I'd love it if you'd share. I've been doing my best to write that sort of stuff too, but inspiration is slow and the down side to writing content that I'm searching for is that I usually end up getting distracted and indulging in kink, leaving the rest of the story unwritten.

I've noticed I've gotten a heck of a lot of new followers recently. Welcome! I'm pretty starved for people talking tummies/hunger-kink so if you're into that sort of stuff too it'd be awesome if you dropped something in my inbox. Am I the only one that loves the sensations caused by hunger and not into it for the hurt/comfort/feeding aspect? What do you like about hunger-kink? What part is your favorite? Also, any ideas on stuff you'd do to my hungry stomach if you were the partner I'm looking for? Just 'cuz I didn't write it into my fantasy, doesn't mean I won't like it. I mean, reading about new stuff is usually how I realize "oh shix...I'm kinda into that too"...so...yeah, please share! If I don't like what's written I'll either ignore it/not respond to it. In worst cases if someone is being rude or if one thing I'm not into is shoved into my inbox enough times then I'll probably address the topic/issue in a post. I'm not a fan of public outing/shaming or whatever so it's not like I'll be like "[username] is very rude--stop shoving the same dang thing I ignored at me!" or whatever. Example: I'm not really into stuffing/feeding, but sometimes someone will write something that includes that stuff and it hits all the right buttons. Odds are that if you send it off-anon I'll answer privately unless you tell me explicitly that it's okay to post. I know only main accounts can follow and send asks and I don't want to out somebody's kink if they don't want that. Basically, I'm bored and kink-starved/tummy-starved...please send me things!

[hollygopossumlovesj2]

Come Back Down Part 12

Come Back Down, Part 12

Warnings: There’s some creative smut here. Some cussing.

Summary: Just a little view of Jensen being happy before the shit hits the fan... That’ll be next chapter.

Tagging: @perpetualabsurdity, @maileann, @daydreamingintheimpala, @gecko9596, @gemini75eeyore, @jotink78, @dancingalone21, @winchesterprincessbride, @sandlee44, @exploratiionist, @arryn-nyx, @littledarlinhavefaithinme, @tiffanycaruso, @boredoutofmymindstuff, @feelmyroarrrr, @raeganr99, @ruprecht0420, @anokhi07, @letsgetyourdeanon, @sis-tafics, @jensen-gal

a/n-Bless my sweet niecey for letting me borrow her lap top for a few moments to post my smut. : )

I thought things might get a little awkward since Y/N'd had her hand on my dick last night. But, that was not the case. I woke up with the sunshine against my closed eyelids and the scent of her shampoo in my nose. "You smell so good, sweetheart." The sentiment slipped from my lips without my permission and I felt her laughter rumble in her chest beneath my hand. I tucked my face into her hair, just feeling the inextinguishable, burning warmth that was spreading through my entire body. I knew the feeling, but was it too soon to be feeling this way?

"Don't be all weird, J. It wasn't a religious experience." She grumbled into the crook of my arm. It was strange, the stupidly happy feeling that bubbled up in my chest at her hedgehog grumpiness. The response was so typically her that I felt the last bits of hesitancy fade away.

 I decided to stow away the sentimentality, "I suppose you expect breakfast in bed with a side of Norco?" I finally found the will to open my eyes to the morning, finding the scene in front of me just as welcoming. Y/N's legs twisted in the sheets and was as close as she could possibly get with a brace and a cast to get in her way. Her camisole was riding halfway up her abdomen, showing off the bruises that had now faded to gray translucency.

 The sight calmed some of jagged edges that were still cut up inside me. It was proof that she was healing, that this would be behind her soon just like everything else that she'd ever been through and conquered.

 Now, she'd cracked an eyelid in my direction, a small but effective pout on her lips, her eye brows raising in question. "Some coffee?"

 Some things never changed. I found myself leaning over, pausing just a hairsbreadth away from her lips. "Of course. Anything else?" I dragged my lips against hers and expected her to push me away and tell me that 'yes, brush your teeth.' But she didn't. Her grumpy, pleading expression melts into something else. Something I've never seen before on her face.

 She pushes into my space, taking the kiss that I offered with enthusiasm. When she moved away she had a hand on my hip, and her eyes were exuding a certain warmth. "Don't be long?"

 It was possible that we'd become a little codependent. Not that I would have any first hand knowledge of anything like that. So, between texts to Jared I brewed some coffee and happily scrambled some eggs. I debated throwing some elaborate, celebratory breakfast together, but Y/N still wasn't eating much. So, I reigned it in. There was plenty of time to be stupidly domestic. Jared's return text drew my attention away for a moment.

 Jared 9:03am: Dude. Finally.

Jensen 9:04am: What do you mean, finally? Asshole.

Jared 9:07am: I'm not an asshole. Asshole.

 I'd managed to not screw up a batch of scrambled eggs with cheese and was in the process of buttering some toast when my phone chimmed against her counter top. I wasn't expecting to have a detailed conversation with Jared just yet.

 Jared 9:16am: Danneel's been by. She was upset that you had signed the papers 'so quickly'. She's been crying on Gen's shoulder all damn weekend. She was the one that had them drawn up, right?

 Couldn't I just have one drama free moment to enjoy the fact that I was happier than I had been in years? Of course not.

 And then those stupid guilty feelings that I'd been supressing started welling up like a black slime, trying to coat and destroy. Yes, I'd separated from my wife months ago, started the divorce preceedings because she'd started them! However, even though she'd started everything, I was more and more convinced that it was the right thing to do. Not because I could have Y/N without any guilt, but because the separation from Danneel exposed the huge, gaping pit of differences that was between us. I hadn't known until I'd taken a step back and looked at the whole picture. Neither one of us was happy anymore, and it wasn't just tiny things that needed to change that would go towards trying to make it right again.

 Jensen 9:18am: Yes. She was the one who wanted the separation and she's the one who sent a lawyer to ambush me at damn hospital when Y/N was hurt. This should all not be a big surprise to her.

 Now I was leaning against the counter with my phone in one hand and a plate of food in the other. Her pill bottle was bulging out of the pocket I'd stuffed it in just minutes earlier.

 Juice. She'd probably appreciate some juice too. And the coffee! Fuck!

 Jared 9:25am: All I'm saying, from what I've heard. She's not gonna be letting this go without a fight.

 Well, I was having a good morning. "Fuck." I sighed, finally settling for a tray for all of Y/N's coffee accoutrements before taking a cleansing breath. There was no need to saddle Y/N with my baggage instantly.

 It would go something like: Hi, I love you. I know, crazy right?! Surprise bitch! Here's my baggage!

 We could have one drama-free morning, couldn't we? I made sure my phone was on silent and plastered on the most convincing smile I could before trudging back up the stairs. I could do this.

~~~~~

The shit didn't hit the fan until a couple of weeks later, when I was least expecting it to. Y/N was slowly progressing into the 'well' category. A physical therapist came to her house a couple of days a week to help her regain motion and strength in her leg. She apparently didn't tear enough ligaments to qualify for surgery.

 So, completely begrudging the opportunity to put my hands on her skin, I'd been helping her with some of her stretches. She'd only cussed and threatened to separate me from my balls a little bit and it seemed to be doing her some good. Plus, it'd kind of been satisfying that itch I had when I was in high school and thought I wanted to be a physical therapist.

 It's probably good that I'd dodged that particular interest. It was one thing to be up close and personal with someone you love, their sweaty skin beneath your finger tips. A wholly other for some stranger to be in such intimate proximity.

 "I've got a surprise for you when you finish these." I mumbled as I helped by pushing her ankle towards being flush with her butt cheek. She couldn't quite make it and I could tell it was putting a lot of strain on her ligaments. "No pain, no gain, darlin."

 She frowned, and from the looks of it, just barely resisted flipping me the bird. "What kind of surprise?" She ventured instead, bitting her lip until I eased up on the stretch and give her a break.

 "Can't tell. Then it wouldn't be a surprise." Her face scrunched into a frown, "Don't give me the poop face, thems the brakes." I supressed the smile that threatened to break out on my face until she finally succombed to her childish ways and stuck her tongue out. "Watch it now, I might think that's an offer."

 She hummed before answering, her long bangs hanging coyly in her face. "Maybe it is."

 "Don't you threaten me with something you can't back up, sweetheart." I was kind of joking, but there was another, bigger part of me that was making sure that she was too. I'd call it a rough patch in the changing over from being best friends into... Whatever it was that we were at the moment.

 She scrutinized me for a moment, and I couldn't say that it was really all that comfortable, and with a completely serious face instructed me to take my pants off. "Boxers too." She added as she arranged herself to lay flat across the foot of her bed on her back.

 At first I wasn't too sure what she was up to. This was completely unchartered territory and I prided myself in keeping my ears plugged when she started to talk about what she had done with her 'current' boyfriends. I only paused for a moment though, "I gotta do all the work?" It was amazing how fast I could become half undressed in the middle of a perfectly respectable, sunny afternoon.

 Her face was bright with teasing, full of piss and vinegar, and I took another moment to appreciate the fact that she was actually a little happy. "I'm the gimp, Jensen. Come over here before I change my mind."

 I was only a few steps away from her, but her words made me pause again. "Do you need to change your mind?"

 "Jesus Christ, Jensen!" Her face became flush, and if I didn't know better I would've thought it was embarrassment.

 I'd had a vague idea of what was about to happen, but I didn't want to be presumptious. However, I was already half hard, so I obeyed. I was feeling incredibly awkward with my dick drooping over her face and I could feel my own cheeks darkening with embarassment. "Y/N, are you sure ab-"

 "I swear to God, Jensen, are you this awkward with your dick out all the time?" She cut me off with her jab, but I could tell she was picking on me to hide her own self conciousness. Then, her hands were on my thighs, squeezing a little like she was picking fruit at the super market. Either way, my dick found it rather interesting. "Damn you've always had nice thighs." I felt her warm breath tickle the hair on my leg before her mouth brushed the thin skin on my inner thigh. The movement made me drag my bottom lip between my teeth to keep in a giggle. I was horribly ticklish exactly where her mouth was.

 When her teeth pulled the skin into a bite and then sucked and laved at the reddened flesh. I couldn't help the startled moan at the zing of pleasure that shot right to my dick. "Fuck, Y/N." I chanced a look down at her and found that she had a sparkling, mischievious look in her eyes. "Watch the teeth."

 She smiled wide, most of her white teeth on display before she disappeared to continue to mouth at my thigh on her way closer to where I needed her mouth to be. However, she seemed determined to tease me and took her time. I was in no position to rush things, so I stood helplessly while pathetic whines escaped my mouth without my permission. I was a badass, damnit, I needed to act like one.

 Soon, her mouth found its way to suck and lick sloppily over my balls and the shock of pleasure racing through my veins caused me to bend over, a long, low groan bellowing forth like I was a goddamn neanderthal. My hands braced over her thighs, my head hung low, I widened my stance so that I didn't smother her. I could see the headline now, 'Woman smothered by Jensen Ackles' thunder thighs while giving head...'

 To my embarrassment, Y/N laughed like I'd told her a joke, the vibrations giving me all kinds of sensations. "Oh, but what a way to go."

 Oh fuck, I must have said it out loud, but I didn't have time to reply before her hot mouth enveloped me in wet heat and my brain compressed down to thrust, moan and cuss. I felt my fingers twist the comforter into my fists, my hips making aborted thrusts as I struggled to keep myself from thrusting deep into her glorious mouth. It turned out that Y/N was a freakin master at giving head. She writhed around beneath me like she was being struck by a live wire and loving every minute of it. And before I had time to contemplate that at any length she did an artful twist of her tongue and I was coming hard before I even had time to warn her.

 My arms gave out and I dropped into her thighs, holding my ass awkwardly in the air so that my graphic headline didn't come true. My entire body trembled as I spent my life out in pulses down my best friend's throat. And wasn't that a thought I'd never had before? It sent a belated shiver of pleasure through my body, causing me to twitch helplessly. "Oh, fuck." I muttered barely above a breath because my lungs were still not cooperating, my cheek laying heavily against her uninjured thigh. Hmph, she had pretty damn great thighs herself.

 I waited for her to laugh, or to make fun in some way, but it never came. She waited while I softened in her mouth before she started laying delicate kisses all over the sensitive skin of my thighs like worship. But soon it started to tickle and it motivated me to awkwardly scramble to sit on the bed without taking out her lovely face with my knees.

 She had a dazed look on her face, her tongue sliding over her abused bottom lip made my dick twitch valiently with interest. Her pupils were blown and it was obvious that she'd enjoyed what she'd just done.

 Soon, I felt a little sheepish. It was like all I'd done since we'd started this whole thing was to take. She'd refused any type of reciprocation, but I had to offer any way. "If you want, I can..."

 "No," she shook her head, but grabbed the front of my shirt to pull me close. The kiss didn't start off tentative or careful, it was full of want. I let her tongue plunder my mouth and I could taste myself as she sucked on my tongue much like she'd just sucked other things. She broke off the kiss, watching me panting for breath with an intense gaze. "When I can go without this brace, I want you to fuck me, okay?"

 I was struck dumb by her bluntness, but I squeaked out an, "Okay."

 I settled down to lay next to her and we kissed lazily for a while until I remembered. "I forgot your present!" I bounded off the bed to go to the guest bedroom where I'd set up and dragged her present from the depths of my bag. When I returned she was leaned up against the pillows with a perfectly contented look on her face. Like this was exactly what she wanted when she woke up this morning and thought about her day.

 God, I could do this. If this was what met me every time I came home, I'd be a happy man. Her eyes brightened, narrowing in on me rather than the object in my hand. "Whaddja get me?" She was like a child, practically bouncing in place. I did have a tendency to buy pretty awesome gifts, if I do say so myself.

 It never occurred to me to think that she might call what I had lame. I knew she would love it. "It's from Lush, that bath bomb place that you like? I think Jared has an Aunt that's friends with someone who works at the UK warehouse and well... They got me this." I handed over the small black jar and watched her eyes widen.

 "Holy... Is this what I think it is?" She looked at the jar and back to me in incredulity. "This hasn't been released yet. They've just been doing teasers and... Oh my God." She looked a little reverent as she unscrewed the cap to take a whiff. She made an incredibly pornographic sound, closing her eyes in absolute ecstacy.

 It made it a little uncomfortable to sit where I'd perched on the side of the bed beside her, my dick filling in my pants. "Well, there's more where that came from if you do your physical therapy every day. Lady gave me a whole basket of stuff."

 You'd think I would have told her that she'd won the goddamn lottery. She smiled so freakin hard I thought her face my implode. "Oh my God! You're the best!" She lunged over, pulling me into a tight, awkward side hug that made it difficult to breathe.

 I rubbed her back and smiled into her shoulder, a smile so wide that it hurt my face. "Of course I am, sweetheart."

 Once she'd calmed down a little and I was able to pry the jar from her fingers, "Lay down." I instructed in a calm voice and watched her obey quickly. I opened the fragrant jar and dipped my fingers in to collect the lotion. It was cool and creamy between my hands as I tried to warm it before spreading it over her good leg. Starting at her knee, I spread the cream to her thighs and then to her calves, working it in with firm circular presses of skin.

 She turned into delicious smelling putty. She only tensed a little when I removed her brace, trust implicit in her eyes. I used the cream to ease my fingers as I tried to massage the tension and extra fluid out of her injured knee. Doing this was probably more intimate than what we had done together previously, no sex involved, but I couldn't take my eyes off of her.

 I felt loose and happy and I could see all over her face that she felt the same. Seriously, if my life could actually be this good I would embrace it whole heartedly. Could I really be that lucky?

 Then, the doorbell rang.

[strawbunny-slime]

If you had to reinvent yourself, or rather Sweetheart, completely, what would you do? Like if they were anything other than a bug pink strawberry slime bun

Ohh, jeez, and I thought the “what writer influenced you the most” question would be a tough one. I mean, you and I have talked about other Sweetheart forms and entirely different characters before (Camellia, for instance!), but if I had to make a completely new ‘sona that wasn’t Sweetheart...or if I had to remake Sweetheart into a different species, with a different personality, different powers...

...I guess my priority in this situation is to start with general shape? And I seriously love slimes, but if I can’t make “Sweetheart 2.0″ a slime, then I guess I’d have to pick a different fantasy creature. Maybe some kind of dragon-taur, but fuzzy instead of scaly? Like...scales are cool and all, but they don’t work well in cuddle sessions, and if you haven’t guessed by now that I’m all about cuddling...I don’t even know what to tell ya. >u>’

Some weird amalgamation of different creature concepts, I think, would be an ideal replacement for Sweetheart. A cat-dragon-taur. A cagon. A drat.

...I dunno what the name would be, but I’m kinda digging this idea now. A black dragon, but fluffy, with catlike paws...and a human upper half, of course. Maybe with her hair dyed pastel purple? And...I know you and I have discussed “dragon Sweetheart” concepts before, so this’ll sound familiar to you - maybe instead of fire breath, shrinking breath? (And maaaaybe some kind of growth-breath, to reverse the effects...but I don’t know if that’d be as fun as the risk of the dragon-taur’s breath permanently shrinking its victims. Maybe the effects would wear off after a couple days...weeks...months...y’know, at some point, it should probably wear off.) Lately, I’ve been feeling like my size-shifting schtick hasn’t really been under my control as much as it used to be, so...maaaaybe the ‘taur being developed here would have an issue where her shrinking breath messes with her, too? So she ends up smaller than she’s used to being for a while. ^^

As for personality...that’s kind of the toughest part, ain’t it? Sweetheart ended up being friendly, if slightly mischievous, and awful talkative, too. But this dragataur (sure, why not) is supposed to be me in another form, and if her personality can’t be “mostly friendly/talkative, slightly mischievous”, then...maybe flip those two basic attributes around? Mostly mischievous, but slightly friendly - the sort that’ll show up in town one day specifically to mess with people, but won’t be too inclined to actually hurt them. Shrinking them, sure, and toying with them (chasing them whenever they try to run, catching them, knocking them around a bit with their front paws, like any proper cat would do when trying to wear a smaller creature out) and probably collecting them, too (gotta hoard something, right?), but never actually hurting them...

...Iiii feel like we might be onto something here. ^^

[reversed-hierophant-blog]

35 facts about velvet!

buckle in lads because this got long

velvet welch is, if you haven’t guessed, not japanese! wow, surprising, i know. they were born in the united states, and moved to tokyo about a year and a half ago. they’re of white, syrian, and libyan descent— mostly syrian, though, although i don’t have the exact percentages figured out. 

their family is christian— southern baptist, specifically.  velvet is not, even though they were raised baptist. however, they are extremely spiritual. 

(velvet welch isn’t their birth name btw, but it is the name they have listed on all of their official japanese papers. they’d really prefer if you don’t try to pry and figure out what their dead name is.)

fun fact: i got their name from an old 90s instructional video teaching old people how to use the internet. i’m not joking. this was yuro’s idea.

they’re from myrtle beach, south carolina! as the name suggests, it’s a beach town. and as that implies, they love the ocean? it’s like home to them. i could go on and on with this fact alone because i may or may not have been self indulgent and plopped them in a city i’ve visited multiple times a year for like, the past ten years of my life, but. 

velvet’s family consists of their parents and their eleven-year-old sister, rachel! she really looks up to them, and they used to babysit her when she was younger. they’re really good with kids, which is surprising for a lex character.

velvet makes friendship bracelets when they’re bored, anxious, or trying to relax. it’s something they picked up when they were fourteen— their sister wanted to try it out, and velvet (as her babysitter) ended up getting into it as well. she eventually grew out of it (after like, a couple months), but velvet still enjoys it. they usually wear a bunch of bracelets, and will carry around half-finished ones. it calms them down. they will make bracelets for your oc. 

this is the important one, guys: they have a pet cockatoo. she’s going into the game with them because she’s kind of a handful and they didn’t feel right leaving her with their flatmates. her name is felt. she’s basically a small child and velvet adores her. good birb. 

oh yeah, they’re sharing an apartment with some friends, i may or may not make a separate post about them at a later date. 

they love animals in general (and i mean looooooove), and have always grown up around them. their parents have two dogs, their other friends have a bunch of cats, they had a hamster growing up, and they’d really like getting more pets in the future once they have a bigger living space.

velvet is a huge furry, and their fursona is a goat! one of these days i’ll draw it. also hashtag kinfeels. this is why you’ll see me calling them the goat kid a lot, btw. 

their first job was working at a candy store! they love sugar tbh. they’re especially fond of things like sour gummi worms and ring pops, but they like most sweets in general.

they also really love soft serve ice cream! like, a lot. there’s a place on the boardwalk that boasts over 100 flavors of soft serve, and it’s their aesthetic. they especially like chocolate soft serve dipped in a cherry shell!

they wear those LED light up sneakers. like. these

they’re a capricorn! i’m planning on filling out a natal chart for them soon. i associate them with the hierophant card, followed by the devil, the high priestess, and the star! 

they fucking love cool ass rocks. they’re also a steven universe fan. i think their favorite rocks are bismuth, any kind of quartz (especially aura quartzes), opal, and amethyst? i have no idea what their gemsona is yet.

they have four piercings— both ears, a septum, and a medusa! they’ve considered getting more. if they were to get more, they’d probably want a bridge piercing, a labret (maybe? that or snake bites, but not both), and/or probably some extra ear piercings. not sure if they’d go for an industrial bar there but [shrugs]

they've recently been trying to learn how to cook, with varying degrees of success. they’re not bad just..... still in the process of learning. and they’re fairly forgetful

[ear trauma implied?] velvet suffers hearing loss in their left ear and wears a hearing aid! 

they love glitter. especially in their makeup. they’re also the kind of person that’ll wear cute little stickers on their face for fun. they also like rainbow sprinkles and confetti

they follow a bunch of stimming accounts on instagram? they’ve made slime for themself before, and really like that kind of stuff in general. they like slime and frosting stuff more than kinetic sand and paints, though.

they own a bunch of decks, including:

the starchild tarot (which i desperately want)

the 1980s tarot deck 

the hardy tarot deck

the golden thread tarot

tbh i can’t decide between this, this, or this so i might just say they have all three

they also have the food fortunes deck but that one isn’t an actual tarot deck. it was a holiday gift

their hogwarts house is hufflepuff, and their god tier is the seer of light! yeah, they’re rose lalonde. they’re also an ESFP, a chaotic good, sanguine, and enneagram 2w3 (the giver)! they’re right-handed, type B blood, and yes i’m throwing all of the cheap facts together in one slot.

they know english and japanese! their japanese isn’t perfect, and sometimes they don’t make sense, but they’re trying. they also know ASL, but don’t practice it often, so they’re not that great at it. 

i feel like their handwriting would be similar to the woodlands? in english, they write in cursive! 

they love sweet tea. i don’t get it. i live in the south and i fucking hate sweet tea. but, in general, tea is their drink of choice? whether its iced or hot! herbal teas are super nice too, but you gotta be in the right mood for them, y’know? otherwise, they like strawberry lemonade.

alright lets break out the musical aus because you know i love them:

in hamilton, they’d be john laurens

in heathers, they keep accidentally being JD when I AU with sieves, but in all honesty they’d probably be ms fleming

reefer madness? jimmy harper

(”what musical do you associate the most with them, lex?” ha ha, well, that’s a secret)

i mentioned this in my earlier post, but they currently live in ikebukuro! they love the city aesthetic, almost as much as they love the boardwalk aesthetic. 

they’re also a huge fan of like.... idk how to describe it but? they like kitschy cheap tourist-trap souvenir shops with bright neon hoodies advertising the city (side note— they fucking hate that tan / pale blue “life is better at the beach” style of home decor. hate it. their parents love it.). on this note, the gay dolphin. it’s legendary. truly a landmark in myrtle beach. 

and they like... i don’t know how to describe this flavor of psychic advertisement. they also really love miss cleo commercials. because i love miss cleo. they also binge watch old 90s commercials sometimes. because i binge watch old 90s commercials sometimes. they also like that old VHS tape aesthetic. and neons. 

they prefer animated movies and tv shows tbh, and cry over them a lot. their favorite movies include howl’s moving castle, song of the sea, zootopia, and bee movie finding nemo? all animation is good tho. they also really love pokemon!

they’re kinda lowkey goth. on the inside. they went through a (closeted, as best as they could do when their parents would kill them if they get scenekid hair) scene phase when they were younger (it was kind of embarrassing in hindsight), and a lot of their friends are goth, so they still really appreciate the subculture, even if their everyday style is more colorful and floral and obnoxiously neon at times. on occasion, they’ll get dressed up in something trad, but...

they absolutely hate feeling stuffy and restricted in their clothes— you’d be hard pressed to catch them dead in a button-up shirt and trousers and a sportcoat. not happening unless the suit is bright pink or otherwise fun. 

they keep a dream journal! i hate that this became a popular meme.

they’re gay  (...pansexual and very polyamorous, to be exact, and prone to getting crushes on their friends and being super affectionate in general but. gay)