#I’m struggling out here

[what-even-is-sleep]

Breaking News: Perfectionist Struggles with Deconstructing Perfectionism, Says ‘I’m not good enough at being mid!’

[stormmaya]

i graduate in a month and i don’t know what the hell im wearing or where i’m getting my hair done 😭

[roszabell]

gods strongest warrior (going to class while looking like a dumpster fire and having nothing completed)

[sayosdreams]

Me when “I can’t tell if it’s a crush or not”

My past self who didn’t know she was ace/aro spec: :O

Me: yeah apparently if u like someone and they get a haircut u should still like them

Past me: wait so it’s not a crush?? But then I haven’t had a crush since… like…

Me: yeah exactly

[artbyace]

had my doctors appt the other day and y’all… i’m never hitting 5 ft wtf 💔💔

[silversoulsociety]

Gojo Satoru ✰青のすみか

[raqnonohilvos]

i tried going for a lannister red and gold theme for my blog, but it ended up just looking like ronald mc-fucking-donald vibes.

[bookalicent]

yeah so this was insane

[remotewatch]

handprints, footprints all on my glass

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 1.6k wc

minors dni please and thanks, this is hag business

summary: it’s a short ride from the afterparty to the airport, theoretically

cw: shameless smut, she comes first 💪, dry humping, dom reader sorta, pathetic simp Jack enjoyers make some noise!!!, oral (f receiving), fingering, we’re degrading him a bit whoops, accidental vabbing (?????) girl idk, reader wears the pants not the panties, they’re in one of those Mercedes vans, wear your seatbelts everywhere but here

The jet lag was undoubtedly winning. As luck would have it, the busiest weeks of the year for you and Jack overlapped nearly entirely. It had been nonstop flights, engagements, meetings, press releases, dinner parties, galas, openings of buildings for charities for either dogs or orphans, orphaned dogs maybe, for so long you’d entirely lost track and were ever thankful that most of your speaking assignments were behind you. This last afterparty had fried you both; you didn’t have a single networking conversation left in you. Collapsed opposite you in the jump seat, Jack looked just as spent as you felt.

Of course, he still looked too good. It was fucking sweltering in that venue, and he had loosened his evergreen evening tie and slightly unbuttoned his dress shirt the very second you were shielded by the limo tint. Faint wisps of chest hair peered out from the opening, a fresh tan making his teeth look even whiter. Gun to your head, he’d had his pants taken in too much at the hips, but you’d never say anything that would threaten such a view.

There wasn’t time for that; you were in the home stretch of this hell month and had a packed 16 hour day tomorrow. One last email once over, and you could abandon your work iPad and pass out for the flight back to New York.

“Have you been like that all night?” he asks tentatively.

“Like what?” There’s no immediate response, so you look up from checking tomorrow’s agenda to see Jack shamelessly staring up your cocktail dress at your lack of underwear. The spell breaks when you recross your legs and playfully kick his shin.

“Eyes up here. So what if I was?”

Jack blinks dumbly at you and clears his throat. His eyebrows draw together out of confusion.

“But I saw you get dressed this morning. Where’s that pair I just bought you?”

“They’re wrapped in your pocket square. Did you forget to switch it out for a dry one before lunch?” you ask, holding back a shit-eating grin.

It’s hard to deny the rush you get watching Jack go pale and fish the handkerchief out of the breast pocket of his discarded suit jacket, still sticky from cleaning you up a few hours ago. Sure enough, there’s a crumpled La Perla thong cradled in the middle. You interrupt his stuttering protests when you kick your pumps off and slide a foot up his leg.

“Oh please, like you don’t love walking around smelling like me.”

“I do,” his ears are turning red. “but I hugged like twenty people today!”

“Page six has been trying to pin down that musky “cologne” you use for ages. I think you’re safe.” You briefly wonder if you’re leaking onto the leather seats, but that train of thought is halted by Jack’s hand reaching to remove his tie.

“Keep it on.”

He snaps to attention at the direct order.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I like my handle.”

“Do you come with an off switch?”

Break lights flash on in the surrounding lanes. Just your luck; it’s complete gridlock in the few miles between here and the airpark. Maybe there was a little time.

Your foot slides higher, and Jack hisses through his teeth at the contact.

“Why don’t you try and find it?”

There’s barely a millisecond of hesitation before he falls onto you, licking stripes of sweat off your skin from your cleavage to your cheekbones. As always, he’s loud in the way that only a guy who never gets told to shut the fuck up can be: every breath shudders its way out, and he’s basically whimpering into your mouth by the time he gets there, louder when his right hand finds you, in fact, dripping all over the seat. You doubt you’ll ever get used to how thick his fingers are, or the vulgar noises they make when he’s showing off his grip strength knocking on your g spot.

He’d rolled his shirt sleeves up for the afterparty, but his watch was still squarely in the splash zone, and for the briefest of moments you wonder if it’s as waterproof as the cheaper ones he wears surfing. The thought is quickly pushed aside as Jack works you until you’re jolting off the seat trying to get his fingers deeper.

One good yank on his hair gets him off your neck, and he’s so dazed and fucked out already that you almost cum right there.

“Someone looks hungry,” you tease.

“Fuck, please let me-“ He’s cut off by the van suddenly lurching forward and throwing you both off balance, leaving only your vice grip on his tie keeping him in place. There’s a filthy squelch when he pulls his fingers out to suck them clean as he sinks down to his knees. It’s so warm that your dress is sticking to your thighs, and he rapidly loses patience trying to slide it up to your waist.

“This is a rental!” you squeal when the fabric rips, spraying sequins all over the floor. Jack doesn’t even flinch and wraps his lips snugly around your clit.

“Whatever, I’ll buy it,” he mumbles without breaking contact. You find yourself sliding down the sweat slick leather to grind against his face, and he has the nerve to lean back to watch your hips buck desperately.

“I love when you chase it,” he grins. Without missing a beat, you lock your legs around his head and shut him up against you.

“Don’t fucking tease me. I’m not the one humping the floor like a dog.” The mumbly, docile “sorry” that vibrates through you is the hottest thing he’s said all day. And he really is, if his overly enthusiastic slurping indicates anything. Those rapid, precise little strokes of his tongue always froth you up like he’s got a mouthful of soap. By the time you get tired of spelling your name on his nose and shove him to the floor to straddle his face, he’s completely lathered in you.

He lets out a little bleat of surprise when you roughly grab his hair and start manhandling him as if he’s a wet wipe, though he really should expect it by now. Normally, you’d be distractingly aware of the very real possibility the driver can hear the way you’re snarling his name, but time is not on your side right now. The last break lights recede, leaving the compartment only lit by dim blue under-seat bulbs. Your movements grow more frenzied; you’re totally disregarding Jack’s lung capacity and not even aiming for his mouth anymore, just using his whole face like it’s all he’s made for. Right as you begin to worry you have nothing left in the tank due to the lunch commute, a muffled, drawn-out “please” from beneath you sends you tumbling right over the edge. Your orgasm hits you more like a tranquilizer than anything else as the last dregs of your energy drench his face.

As soon as he feels your contractions lessen, he’s tossing you off to sit on his thighs and fumbling with his belt buckle. The van makes a hard right turn onto the final road to the airpark, and Jack lets out a frustrated groan knowing the clock is ticking. Still, he knows not to get in your way when you shove his hands away and slide right back on top of his dick, so hard you can feel the heat radiating through the fabric. You know you’re fucking up his dress pants grinding on him like this, but if nothing else, the linen will dry fast.

“I’m sleeping on the plane whether you finish or not, so make it work.” He doesn’t have enough time to be pissed at you, and he knows it. The sight of him so desperately rutting up against you is nearly enough to get you there all over again. All the tendons in his neck stand out as he presses his lips together trying to focus. His legs splay frantically in an attempt to ground himself, one jet black Oxford wedging under the jump seat and the other pressed flat against the far window. Jack’s head tips back and his eyes screw up in concentration, but you can’t have that, no matter how tasty his Adam’s apple looks. You loop his tie around your hand one more time and yank him back to earth,

“Uh-uh. Look at me when I’m making you cum.” That’ll do it. His expression softens then freezes as his eyes unfocus and his mouth falls open. He sounds downright melodic when he cums, just one long note that gets bounced up and down the scale before trailing off to a whine, and you relish every little twitch of him spilling into his pants, so far from you but certainly close enough.

The van rolls to a stop, and suddenly it’s a fumbling nightmare of you both trying to fish your shoes out from under the seats and smooth each others hair. You snatch Jack’s blazer to cover the rip in your dress, shove the iPad and pocket square-thong mess into your work bag, and throw the door open with what you hope is a believable amount of nobody-get-between-me-and-my-lie-flat-seat urgency.

Wobbly legs insist you grab his hand to step out of the van, and, of course, there’s a fucking pap pressed to the tarmac fence. Jack’s reflexes don’t stand a chance at turning him away in time after what you’ve put him through. When the flash catches his face, you can only look horrified as it perfectly captures the shine you’ve left on him.

Gossipy headlines and vague, tasteful PR statement drafts are already zipping through your head. Add it to the agenda: 16.5 hour day incoming.

[jellydragons]

been watching a lot of hermitcraft recently and am happy to report that i am hopelessly endeared by these little goobers 💕 they’re like bugs to me

close ups under the cut!

gonna be real this was absolutely just me taking the opportunity to get my grubby lil mitts all up in their character designs lol i heart interpreting mc skins

[anomanxious]

my sister and i were giggling about how funny it is to have a demi-god who has a non-absentee godly parent. Like whenever Achilles did normal child things^tm was thetis just like 💀💀 anywhos this was the result bye for another min 5 months

[rumlead]

what good is a mouth and ears if you only stare? // complicit witness // curly bro is the talk in the room with us?

had the idea for a piece that parallels pre- and post- crash Curly.. ideologically? Or at least to be representative of his body after the crash reflecting his prior actions. Curly pre-crash doesn’t truly listen to concerns about Jim or even have a proper conversation with him, but rather watches things happen (low interference, signing off on his psych-evaluation). Post-crash Curly can’t talk, assumedly has limited/no hearing (mfw ship blow up in my face), and no eyelids— call him the witness the way he be witnessing. He’s doing as much as he would prior to the crash, but now he doesn’t have a choice. There is definitely a more profound way to word it, but you get the point. Probably.

[akindplace]

How to find self-acceptance when you are dealing with a new-found chronic illness

“You’re already being brave dealing with all of this, and it can feel extremely overwhelming and lonely to be going through an illness, so don’t deny yourself any joy, because it doesn’t have to be earned by performing perfectly, or being the most productive you can be.”

[american-horror-whore]

unenlightened. — kai anderson

paring. cult leader!kai anderson x sacrificial lamb!fem reader

a/n. been a while since i put something out 🖤

warnings. nsfw. smut. dub con. corruption kink. unprotected p in v. creampie if you squint. mentions of potential pregnancy. wc.1.3k

“You’re nothing. You’re pathetic. You have no meaning outside of being a symbol of purity…” Kai said in a gruff whispered, his morbidly dark eyes boring into you. You looked down, seeing the state of yourself. You didn’t know what to think. A thin, white nightgown covered your body, which was considered sacred, fragile. You were laid out on the bed, Kai standing beside you. 

He reached into his nightstand, a decently sized grey pocket knife coming into view. He flicked the blade open, the sharp tip going right under your chin.

“But you will be…the greatest sacrifice…” Kai continued, flipping the knife so he could trail the spine down your neck, stopping at your stomach. “For the greater good of those men…and our child,” 

The moment those words left Kai’s lips, you tensed. You knew the possibility of a child was a possibility that had been dangling over your head for months. You were his lamb, after all. The symbol of temptation to the men of this cult after Kai had forced them into celibacy. A pure virgin that no one was allowed to touch except for Kai. And now, the vessel for his almighty child. 

There was something so horrifyingly comforting about this situation. The way that Kai made you believe that submitting your body to him would somehow increase your value in his twisted mind. That being the bearer of his child would make your life any more significant to him after that child was born. That you’d somehow make Kai, who’s never felt even the most minuscule spark of human emotion since you’ve been in this cult, want to protect you more than anyone else who followed him. 

“To everyone else, you’re nothing..but in your leader’s eyes is where you find your true purpose…The mother of the blessed child..” He continued, rambling out sentences of false admiration that you didn’t even realize were a lie. You just saw him, not any of the bullshit he preached. His eyes, you thought. They had no soul. You couldn’t see any sense of humanity, not even a shred of concern. But that’s how Kai always was, so it was normal to never see those normal reactions.

“This will be a spiritual experience for you. You’ll finally learn…what true enlightenment feels like..” Kai whispered, lifting his shirt. The fabric dragged across his torso, exposing more of his flesh bit by bit. You tried to move your legs a bit, a knot of anxiety building in your stomach. You’d never had sex before, let alone had a man cum inside of you. You were scared, if you were being honest.

You watched as Kai removed his jeans next, his belt sliding off the denim and into his hands. He snapped the leather, his eyes boring into you, hoping for a reaction. You flinched as he snapped the belt down on one side of your legs, making you flinch again. He tossed the belt down onto the floor, your head spinning as the realization this was actually happening, sank in. 

Kai’s hands rested on your thighs, spreading them apart. Reluctantly, your muscles agreed, your legs moving further to create room for him. He pushed your nightgown up to your hips, the rough callouses on his palms mingling with the smoothness of your skin. His fingers made their way up to your already aching cunt. Kai’s fingers dug roughly between your lips, spreading them roughy apart before spitting into your pussy.

You let out a small shriek, your legs twitching. Kai’s fingers immediately slammed themselves down onto your pussy. He rubbed back and forth aggressively, his spit mingling with your arousal. He watches your chest heave, those small sounds of pleasure combined with a hint of discomfort. Your fingers gripped the sheets roughly, watching with a sense of nervousness as Kai tugged his jeans and boxers off. He climbed over you with a small breath.

“Shh..” Kai murmured, his blue hair hanging down around his face. His eyes were manic, as they always were, but there was a clear sense of stoicism, as if he was putting up a front. Not to impress you, but as a way to uphold the standards of composure he’d laid out for himself. 

One of Kai’s large hands found its way to your neck. His fingers wrapped gently around your throat, gradually applying more pressure. You let out a soft, strangled gasp that was caught in your throat. Your hand came up to claw at his wrist, but you realized you were overpowered the moment you noticed the size difference. 

A strange feeling of pleasure was building inside your stomach. Feeling Kai over you, to feel that sense of submission and to feel overpowered made you more comforted than nervous. That feeling, though, was quickly and rudely interrupted by a feeling of fullness. That was the moment you realized that Kai had already started fucking you.

“Agh-“ You whimpered out, your head lolling back further into the pillows. Kai shushed you, bringing his hips forward roughly. His cock nuzzled itself further into you, deeper and deeper with each thrust. Kai’s lips met the warm, soft flesh of your neck, sucking gently. Well, gently compared to everything else he’d been doing.

“Look at you..” Kai panted gruffly, thrusting deeper. His hands drifted down to run gently over your body. You squirmed, your hips bucking upwards. Your hands drew to his back, clawing at his otherwise unmarked back. A hiss escaped from his lips as they were still buried in your neck, his thrusts more unstable and fast paced as he began to reach his climax.

“Pathetic,” Kai scoffed through panting breaths. His hand made its way to your jaw, gripping tightly as his fingers dug into the bone below the flesh. You felt that if he tried hard enough, he could snap it off. Your mouth hung open and your eyes rolled back. You took sharp, shaky breaths, your chest heaving with a lack of air.

“i’m corrupted!-“ You sob out, your cries loud and painful. Oh, the tears were an act, and you knew it well. You knew that Kai loved to see whoever it was that he was in control of, very upset. And you knew that tears would be a perfect way to get him going.

He shushed you, brushing hair from your tear stained face. “Yes, lamb,” Kai murmured, his sentence punctuated by a thrust. “You’re weak- fuck-.. You’re corrupted. And you’re gonna have my fucking Messiah baby, huh?”

“Yes-“ You sob, inhaling sharply once more.

“Yeah,” He repeated back, his face going back down to your neck once more, kissing along your neck and collarbones. You looked down at the top of his head, those alligator tears still flooding your eyes. Kai’s thrusts got increasingly faster and you knew he would finish soon. You just didn’t know you’d be able to feel it like you did.

Immediately once Kai finished, he let out a moan. A gruff, ragged moan, possibly more of a grunt, you couldn’t tell. 

You practically felt him filling you up, and you knew there was no chance that you’d come out of this not pregnant. He didn’t even get you to finish. He pulled back, looking down at his cock, still coming out of your aching, broken sex. Strings of Kai’s warm, sticky cum connected you and him, the barrier breaking as he continued to pull back slowly. Your head fell back onto the pillows, air filling your lungs and you took a breath and closed your eyes. 

Kai looked down at your body, your cunt in specific. He watched his deliverance leak from you, taking two fingers and sliding them between your lips. Your legs twitched, a small tired whimper escaping your mouth. He held his fingers up to show you what exactly was leaking out of you at this moment. His lips pressed against your ear, his voice soft and sickly sweet.

“Better start making bigger meals. You’ll be eating for two.”

© american-horror-whore 2025. All rights reserved. Do not copy, modify, repost, or translate my work.

tags @fear-is-truth @newwavesylviaplath @lacucarachapisser @evansonlylove @dearlizzies @oceanblvd111 @foreverviolets @xrag-dollx @taintandviolent @colinzabelswife @marchsfreakshow @evanpeterspeter @redroses07 @lostreverb @partypoisxn @evanpetersbf @jdnymos @starsturni

[rottenapplefae]

not entirely finished with this yet but I wanted to post something for halloween so here’s a sneak peek of vampire jade and werecat kit >:3

[syrupfog]

Being the captain means always being the one everyone turns to.