#and if that stuff’s important to you absolutely stick with it!

[artsekey]

Thinking about the time I lost a game of Overwatch and I was so mad about it that I genuinely considered getting into shit with the other team in chat and then realized that it was a colossal waste of my living breathing Human Time and uninstalled Overwatch instead because it was only making me angry.

And then thought about the OTHER time when I was on TikTok and realized I was Not Enjoying Myself and was, in fact, seeing so many sad videos and fake influencer ads that I felt Truly Despondent and then just…Deleted it.

Imo I want my social media /general media experience to be a pleasant break from real world and I get to decide what I get to cull to make that a reality for myself. I highly reccomended it! Life has improved considerably!

[everysongineverykey]

begging people to realize that the back warehouse of a grocery store is not a second, secret grocery store that has everything you need plus some extra secret items the first grocery store does not have

[thebrandonross]

just imagine thinking about me, when you already won.

[anantaru]

can i have some sunday headcanons, if you are okey with that?

⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ synopsis. spicy sunday headcanons that live rent free in my head, cw. idk just horny, messy, pussy eating, all that stuff and i almost forgot: he has a fat cock, fem! reader // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡

sunday catches himself day dreaming a lot, and it's mostly poles apart from what he's usually preferring in the bedroom— by all means, it's nothing too out of the ordinary, but the man had developed a strong liking towards trying out new discovered kinks between you two.

to sunday, the most important entity of trying out new kinks was your comfort, he loves and respects you, and he wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable in any way. in fact, before you dabbled through those new twists, you both agreed on a safe word to keep you from crossing each others boundaries.

alas, exploring them along with how well he would fuck you only added to the arousing press inside your belly. sunday wants to taste you absolutely everywhere until his senses were occupied by nothing but your scent and flavor— to trace the flat of his tongue between your fat folds until your skin was hot and quivering, your hands clenching in his hair and you're begging, hoping he'd push you over the edge until you come and come and come against his wet muscle playing with your clit.

you should tug his hair more often too, or even better, stroke over his wings with your digits until sunday gets aroused by it.

to elaborate further, the moment you begin to subtly squeeze and tug on the feathers, he could never recover from the loss of your hands against them, it's as if the man had grown addicted to you battering your palms across his wings that he never wanted it to end.

he slurrs his words as he kisses your clit before silently licking across your belly, slow huffs and ragged groans along with the laps of his tongue crossing your entire body.

he assured you he's going to taste you everywhere, didn't he? after all, he'll give you anything you want— like the pleasure you deserve.

shortly after, he settles between your legs and slowly fills you to the brim, adding inch after inch until his erection was snugly compressed by your walls, the thickness of his shaft pressing down on your nerves and making you feel like you're flying rapidly without moving.

at last, sunday finds your lips and grinds himself into your warm core, your breasts crushed against his chest as he thrusts into you before bringing your knees up so he could press them against your chest.

the man was beginning to shift his weight to pin your hips with the weight of his body, before applying a brief kiss to the inside of your knee as you look at him in awe, head lolled to the side with your eyes glowing clear and wide.

you cannot stop yourself from admiring your boyfriend, and neither could your body get used to his erection crushing your insides— turning your skin hot, warm, cold, quivering, searing, until your bodies touch and stick together like burgeons of fire. your pussy lips swollen up and your eyes soused in a haze as sunday smiles at you lazily from above, lovingly patting your head;

"you're holding up great, my dearest,"

..."i'm so proud of you."

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[tpwrtrmnky]

outreach

[ID: Five-panel comic with crudely drawn stick people.

Panel 1: A moss green person and an orange dog person are working a stand at some sort of event. They have brightly colored flags, hats and pins.

Moss: "...Why are we here?"

Orange: "Activism is important!"

Moss: "Yeah, sure, but why are we here doing it? I mean, look at the neighbor tent!"

Panel 2: Zoom out. On the left is a nondescript tent with a non-chromoforming grayscale person in a purple hat, with a lime green pin. There is also a visually pink individual wearing orange anime glasses and a blue jacket. On the right is a tent labelled "Lockheed-Nestlé", staffed by a wide purple person, two grayscale people, and a sort of pinkish-red person. A turquoise person is listening intently.

Purple (Not that purple. The cool purple is not this person): "We of course have many career opportunities for chromatic-variant individuals with a passion for assisting the migration of hopeful water molecules seeking to escape from war-torn, impoverished nations."

Turquoise: "Wow!"

Grayscale person from the same tent: "Our diversity initiative seeks to employ at least three hue-diverse drone pilots with in this fiscal year."

Panel 3:

Moss: "It sort of makes me hate this!"

Orange: "But we're doing good by handing out stuff to people"

Moss: "That doesn't cancel out the fascist tent!"

From offscreen: "Hey, Moss!"

Panel 4: The person with the anime glasses gives Moss a high-five. It is the coolest thing that has happened in this particular comic.

Anime Glasses: "Firebombs later, monarch?" (They inexplicably punctuate this spoken sentence with an emoji of a pair of anime glasses.)

Moss: "Absolutely!"

Anime glasses: "Rad. Also a blue hat for my friend."

Moss: "Sure."

Anime glasses: "Hell yeah. They'd ask themselves, but they're scared to."

Panel 5: Closeup on Moss and Orange.

Orange: "See, we're helping people!"

Moss: "Next to the fascist corporation. Do you not see the problem with the fascist corporation?"

Orange: "I decided to be a dog because engaging with politics was too stressful"

Moss: "Right."

End ID.]

Start - Previous - Next

[sitronsangbody]

"Oh so we should just eat anything we want??"

Well actually YES but also:

Restricting food Does Stuff To Your Brain. "Restricting" doesn't mean stopping when you're full. I feel like this is what gets misunderstood a lot. It means placing rules and limits on food that supercede what your body is signalling that it wants. Let's use cookies as an example. Restricting would be:

- I can only have cookies when I deserve them.

- I can only have cookies when I'm alone.

- I can only have two cookies.

- I can only have low-calorie cookies.

- I can only have cookies on set days, or so-called cheat days.

- I can't have cookies.

- I can't have cookies in the house.

- I'm bad when I eat cookies.

- Cookies are a bad food and I must compensate for having eaten them.

Whether or not you stick to the restrictions you set, your brain is learning to be an anxious mess around cookies. It might want to avoid anywhere that has cookies. It might feel shame for wanting or eating cookies. It might get exhausted from suppressing the craving and decide to binge. It might go into binge mode every time you eat cookies because you've taught your body that This Will Not Be Available Whenever. It might feel ridiculously important to eat all the cookies while you can.

I know we're all so used to constantly talking about food, diets, weight and bodies, and it's completely normalised to look at absolutely everything you eat and assign it the level of guilt you're gonna feel for eating it, and to brag about not eating this and that, and to announce that you know it's a Naughty Indulgence when you eat anything sweet.

But oh my god, it's such a huge weight off your shoulders to just let yourself eat cookies because you wanted cookies and stop when you feel satiated and know that the cookies will be available next time you want cookies because you don't need to earn them in any way. Because a brain that knows it can have cookies whenever it wants cookies, doesn't crave cookies all the time. Nor does it feel any self-loathing when it does crave cookies.

And I just wish everyone a very chill brain and some cookies

[danikamariewrites]

Sickly

Poly!Batboys x reader

Notes: I’m not sure why but a lot of my poly batboys stuff has been Cassian. At this point I should just make these ideas just Cassian x reader but I love including all the boys

Warnings: mentions of medicine and the flu

Kissing and hugging each of your mates goodbye never gets easier. Today was an exception though. You were excited to stay home alone for a few days—alone time is rare since your mates are always around.

Cassian feels the opposite. You saved his goodbye for last knowing how clingy he gets when he goes away.

“I’m gonna miss you so much, sweetheart.” Cassian groans into your neck as he squeezes you. Patting his shoulder you let out a small ‘aww’.

“I’m going to miss you too, baby.” You move to let go but Cassian tightens his hold on you. Rhys lets out a deep sigh. “Cassian, we have to go. Now.”

Cass groans louder, finally releasing you. He ruffles your hair and gives you a small pout. “Bye, sweetheart. We’ll be back in a few days.” He says genuinely sad. You smirk and raise a brow at him. “I know that, do you know that?”

Cassian messes your hair again as Az moves to pull him out the door. “Bye! I love you guys!” You yell after them. “Bye, sweetheart!” Azriel rolls his eyes, “She knows Cass. She will be fine.”

“But what if she isn’t-” before Cassian can get another word out Rhys winks at you, grabbing onto the males to winnow away.

Shutting the door you take the stairs two at a time to your personal chambers. Nuala and Cerridwin had set up a spa night for you and without the boys interrupting you it was sure to be a peaceful one.

Hours later with your hair brushed and braided the twins helped you settle into bed. While your mates would only be away for a few days you were going to revel in this short lived peace.

Your peace was, unfortunately, was shorter lived than you expected. When Nuala came to wake you for breakfast she found you absolutely miserable. Cough, runny nose, aches, and a fever that had her snatching her hand away from your forehead as if you burned her. You had tried to wave it off as nothing but a cold.

“Should I call for the High Lord to return?” Nuala asked carefully. You shook your head slowly so as not to aggravate your sinuses. “No. I’ll be fine, I just need to rest.”

“As you wish, my lady.” Nuala bowed before leaving you.

About halfway through day two you were wishing for your mates to come home and take care of you. You dreamed of Rhys using his powers to take your pain away so you could sleep peacefully. But you couldn’t find it in you to call them home knowing how important their work is.

But today they were finally on their way back. They promised you they’d be back in time for breakfast. All morning, every sound had you jolting to stay awake as you waited in bed.

Your eyes fluttered open as a large calloused hand cupped your cheek, tsking at how warm you felt.

“Hi sweetheart,” Cassian whispered. You mumble an incoherent greeting thanks to your lips feeling too heavy and your tongue sticking to the roof of your dry mouth.

“Has she been sick since we left?” Cassian asked softly, but you could hear the restraint in his voice. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know his jaw was clenched. “Yes,” Nuala replied smoothly, “she didn’t want to call you all home, insisting she rests. Madja has seen her and left tonics.”

Cassian’s fist clenches in your hair, quickly releasing so he wouldn’t hurt you. “Thank you, for keeping an eye on her.” “Of course.” The wraith bows her head, turning on her heel to leave.

Cassian always hated leaving you in case something happened. Even if it was just a cold, Cass wanted to be there to save you from it. The fact that you’ve been suffering for three days without him makes his stomach tie in knots from guilt.

“Can I get you anything? Did you take any tonics yet?” He asks softly.

“No,” you mumble. “Will you get it for me, and some toast?” Cassian leaves a light kiss on your forehead. “Of course I can, I’ll be right back.”

In his absence Rhys and Azriel check on you. The pair dote on you, telling you about the snowfall in the Illyrian mountains. You were starting to wish you went with them, but winter would arrive in Velaris soon.

When Cassian returns he gives the two males a scowl reserved for his soldiers. “Cass, this is not an I-told-you-so moment.” Rhys tells him gently.

“Out, so I can take care of our mate.”

Rhys and Az hesitate, not wanting to leave you while you’re sick.

“You two should go. I don’t want to get all of you sick.” You pout at them, giving them sad eyes for good measure. The pair conceded and left you in Cassian’s care. Az gave you a quick peck on your forehead before Cassian shooed him away.

You watch as Cassian rips your toast up into bite sized pieces to feed to you. You smile at him with hearts in your eyes. Watching the General of the Night Court do something as mundane as angling the straw in your water cup so you don’t worry about spills just makes you fall in love all over again.

Cassian feeds you a few pieces of the ripped up toast before handing you the tonic. As he cuddles up to you Cass lays a cool cloth on your forehead, relieving your high temperature and the splitting headache he knows is coming. A satisfied hum leaves your lips as you snuggle closer to Cassian. “Thank you,” you say quietly. He lightly kisses the top of your head, “Of course, sweetheart.”

[sprintingowl]

What Non DnD TTRPGs Feel Like

Okay, quick thread about what playing different non DnD ttrpgs feels like.

--

Pathfinder

This is DnD. It feels like DnD. It's like going to a slightly different church. Some of the words used during the service are different, but at the end of it the pulpit turns out to be a mimic and you cast Entangle and summon your direwolf.

--

Fate

This is Rule Of Cool with additional rules. The GM has powers to one-up you or lead you into temptation, but you have powers to one-up the GM, and all these powers use the same kind of token that you ultimately shuffle back and forth.

--

Savage Worlds

Handwave-style DnD (positive connotation.)

The GM has a lot of freedom to pick genre and setting, and the gameplay is sleeker, rule-of-cool-ier without losing meaningful combat or character building.

--

Call Of Cthulhu

You may not be an old librarian, but you sure are built like one. Most acts of violence can flatten you in a couple of hits, but violence doesn't happen often. It's the punctuation mark at the end of a long sentence. Atmosphere and pacing rule over this land.

--

World Of Darkness

This is a game about getting deep into your character's headspace. It's about figuring out who they are and roleplaying them passionately. Your backstory choices and powers have a huge affect on how you interact with the world around you.

--

Warhammer Fantasy / Dark Heresy

You are Scrumbles McGrumbles, a walking heap of morbidity and washed-up soldiering. You are trying to find your place in a world that's having an even worse day than you are. Your best friend is a ratcatcher. Together you will be heroes.

--

OSR (Mork Borg, Mausritter, Into The Odd, Dungeon Crawl Classics, Labyrinth Lord, Cairn, tons more)

DnD boiled down to two components: GMing + Making A Guy. GMing is made as easy as possible and PCs are somewhat disposable, so the story is the hijinks you get into together.

--

Powered By The Apocalypse (Masks, Nahual, Monsterhearts, Pasion De Las Pasiones, tons more)

The goal is to get into trouble and stir up drama. Succeeding on a roll with no consequences is rare, but when you fail you fail forward into even bigger, messier drama.

--

Blades In The Dark

You go on missions and then return to your base. The missions are about choices as much as about rolls, and you build your base together to make yourselves more powerful as a squad.

--

Trophy

Your goal is to lose. Specifically, it's to lose in a dramatic and harrowing fashion that sticks with everyone at the table. Think movies like Annihilation, but as oneshot games.

--

Golden Sky Stories

You like everyone at the table with you. When someone does something adorable, you can award them exp. The highlight of the session is someone getting flustered and/or speaking in a squeaky voice.

--

Ryuutama

You are going on a journey and helping other people along the way. Important choices include packing lunch, wearing appropriate clothing, and completely filling your canteen. Combat is a cozy, pastel color jrpg.

--

The Indie

There are so, so many games that are just completely their own thing, and that I can't squeeze into a single thread. If you discover you like game mechanics and you want to Get Weird with seeing what they can do, there is an entire scene here waiting to welcome you.

--

Stuff I Missed

There's lots of stuff I haven't played, or didn't remember in the moment, or absolutely love but it would take a whole thread to explain why I love it. I will do more game recommendations in the future, but you can also comment systems you like below!

[kawoala]

AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES . . . !? suna rintarou ; 1.

╰ ⨳ word count ; .4k ( 498 )

╰ ⨳ content warning ; miscommunication 、 smau 、 profanity 、 kind of short 、 just like an introduction type thing.

previous ; masterlist ; next.

11:12 AM, new apartment building.

okay, so maybe you had overestimated yourself.

when you told rin you didn’t need help carrying your stuff up to the new apartment, you had been under the impression that kitchen utensils wouldn’t weigh that much when they were all put in the same box. but now, as you’re standing outside the building, hands on your hips, staring down at the pile of spilled kitchen utensils, you fear you might have overestimated yourself.

you gnaw on your bottom lip anxiously, glancing around quickly to make sure nobody is around to see your embarrassing mishap. you’re actually quite surprised to see absolutely nobody - much different compared to how busy your dorm building was.

you squat down, gathering as many utensils in your hands before dumping them into the backseat of your car. how are you going to get them up there? no idea. surely rin has silverware, right?

“uh, d’ya need help?”

you look up to the owner of voice and briefly think that the gods have rewarded you for your good deeds by sending an angel down to earth. his hair is a little too long for your usual type, but god damn does he make it work. everything about him is sharp; jawline, eyes, nose.

“what?” you ask dumbly, brows furrowing faintly. your brain catches up, finally, and you stand up with an awkward laugh. “oh, um, no. i mean- i just spilled my things. thank you, though, that’s very kind of you.” you give him a smile and stick out your hand for him to shake. “i’m y/n. i’m your new… neighbor? building-mate?” you shake your head. “i’m moving into this building, is what i’m trying to say.”

he hesitates in taking your hand. at first, you think it’s because you stumbled over your words too much and now he thinks you're weird, but then he says, “yeah, i know.”

your brain seems to stutter at his words. the smile is still on your face, but you’re sure the look in your eyes reads confused. “i’m sorry?” you ask, leaning forward a bit - just in case you didn’t quite hear him correctly.

“you’re y/n,” he repeats slowly. “i’m rin.” there’s a moment of silence - a moment too long, because then he continues like you don’t understand. “rintarou? runa’s cousin? your new roommate?”

oh. suddenly, everything you thought was weird makes sense. runa using “he” instead of “she” - though that might have been your fault; you thought she just made a mistake. the dryness of the texts you were receiving for the past few weeks.

rin - rintarou - is a guy.

“oh.”

“what, did runa not show you a picture of me or something?” he laughs, a sort of snorting sound, but the silence you return is the only answer he needs. “oh, she didn’t? shit, sorry. she has a habit of leaving out important details.”

you scoff, though it sounds more like a laugh. “yeah, tell me about it.”

╰ ⨳ taglist ; @miiyas , @heartmaddie , @cherrysurf , @pookalicious-hq , @grassbutneo

@akaashislovee , @cvddlebug , @pardoffel , @ssabvln , @smiithys .

[mxtantrights]

I heard your pleas, and am therefore requesting your take on boxer jason ( i swear he lives in my mind rent free, such a gentle giant with the ability to pummel anyone who wrongs you into the ground? Amazing). Maybe he uses scary dog privileges to get someone to back off while they are giving you trouble?

Boxer!Jason x reader

gravitates towards you even though the two of you look like opposites. he's tall and big and sometimes his face doesn't look like it can hold a smile

you're the one person in the world that can prove that he can smile. the first time you met, you threw him a joke and made him smile a tiny bit. Just the tiniest bit but it was enough.

when you find out what he does for a living, you figure it makes sense. All that muscle and size has got to go towards something. him telling you he's a boxer also helps you understand why you'll see him with a black eye or a busted lip.

doesn't invite you to watch him fight at first. even before you start dating because he's scared that you'll see him in action and get nervous. Which you aren't, you actually quite like seeing him in his element.

sometimes he'd go a few days between a fight and seeing you just to not freak you out. seeing Jason with a bruised rib or moving tensely is not something you wish for.

you have to be the one to make the first move. Jason isn't going to do it. He's going to leave it up to you for the first few months of the relationship. He figures you have to get to know him and he has to get to know you.

he flushes when you the two of you first kiss. Yeah. It knocks him off his feet. No one is able to actually get a knockout against him except you!

maybe six months into dating he lets you come over after a fight. You offer to salve and stick anything but he tells you he's got it covered. He just wants you with him.

It's fun going out with Jason because he gets you in anywhere. Clubs, concerts, etc. He's got a lot of pull and if that doesn't work he just stands behind you menacingly as you talk your way in. Works like a charm every time.

Jason doesn't like putting his hands on people outside of a fight or training. He vows against it unless the situation calls for it. And even if it does it's really the last resort.

So when some random sleazily walks up to you and initiates contact with you, he waits. He waits for you to handle it. Which you do, because Jason teaches you a few tricks to get yourself out of a tough spot.

But when things take a turn and Jason knows you need help, he's right there. Like out of no where that rando is down on the floor or high tailing it out of your vicinity.

maybe about eight or nine months into the relationship, Jason asks if you wanna come see his upcoming match. Of course he's pretty nonchalant about it, so you agree. Thinking it's some underground type of stuff.

Yeah, and then the following weekend you're on a plan to Vegas because he's fighting in some big arena and it's being televised.

Jason thinks the only thing in his life worth making a big deal out of is you, so no he doesn't find the cameras and the hype around the fight more important than you.

he wins the fight -of course! and spends the rest of the weekend treating you around Vegas, amongst other things...

a/n: I absolutely love this request! and if you want more you can ask for it in my inbox <333 this was so fun to write and think out!! thank you again for sending this!!

[micahulrichdraws]

i was saving up for a tattoo but ur answer to that ask where u mention the stuff that goes into ink made me go down a rabbit hole and now i think i wont be getting a tattoo until ink is regulated... aside from the ink being full of stuff i know im allergic to my family is very cancer prone and im reading that tattoo ink may have a correlation with increased skin cancer risk. i feel like this should be talked about more. feeling sad about it but im glad u mentioned something about it otherwise i wouldnt have known

Yeah, as someone who's allergic to everything, has eczema, and a family history of cancer, I feel that. If you have a good artist whom is open to using inks that are either carcinogen-free or at least better tolerated it's not the end of the world, and I never want to discourage someone from doing something they want to do, especially art-related! That being said, I had some similar asks so I'm gonna use yours as a quick info-dump, so I apologize in advance!

I do want to be VERY clear: this is NOT a 'tattoos bad' wall of text, it's a 'art good but hold businesses and individuals accountable because right now everything is a trust system' wall of text. Everyone I know and love has tattoos, I just happen to be an artist who was pulled into the industry fairly out-of-the-blue 8 years ago, and have gotten to learn the intimate ins-and-outs of it because of that. This isn't ragebait, and it is strictly my reasons as to why I feel that the industry could benefit from some regulation and standardized education now that it is a very, very mainstream industry that the majority of individuals in my age range engage with but aren't privy to the details on. If you love tattoos, great! If you don't love tattoos, great! If you're an experienced professional in the industry, this is all stuff you've probably bounced off of once or twice, and can understand why it's frustrating.

The tattoo industry sorta has had one foot in the super lax, counterculture boat while also having the other one solidly in the corporate, capitalist yacht. While the studies that come out of the industry relating cancer risk to the ink content always stick strictly to skin cancer risk being 'negligible', it's important to note that the ink isn't going into your skin - it's going into the fatty tissue below the skin. The ink breaks down in that tissue over time, and gets filtered out by your body - the contents of the ink aren't on the top of the skin, they're being filtered through your other organs or pushed up to your skin. (I know this is an ultra-super-simplified version of what happens, but I don't want to give everyone a migraine with details.) I work with a ton of inks, paints, and pigments, and the pigments that are used in some inks aren't stuff I'd willingly handle with my bare hands, but I'm paranoid about that stuff. However,I absolutely wouldn't eat any of the pigments that are used in the creation of the ink used for tattoos, and none of it is stuff that I'd want in my liver or kidneys. I have a parent who's had cancer for 10+ years, so it's a pet topic of mine that I've had the opportunity to discuss with professionals whom work in the industry. The few times I've gotten to chat about inks used in tattoos, the response is the same as the public PR team's response. The standard on-record response is to cite skin cancer risks, and when asked about other types of cancer, specifically liver/kidney/reproductive, often it is deflected to some version of 'our customers are risk takers who live life on the edge, and don't conform to societal norms, and that demographic always has a higher rate of cancer.' The reality is that they intentionally don't test for that, because best case is the optics that they were selling something that they weren't that confident in, and the worst case response is a wall of lawsuits. Obviously, all that sounds ominous and shit, and while I doubt there's anything massive hidden there, my problem is that the corporate side regulates itself, which in the history of everything has never ended in ethical decisions and only ones that increase profit margins. When pressured, however, companies will lean into the 'it's tattoos man, don't be a downer' - but these are large, industrial corporations, not the dude down the street making art out of their garage. They have the money to test their own products and choose not to.

The other half of the problem is that foot in the pseudo-counterculture, lax, independent artist culture. There's no barriers to entry, minimal qualifications required, and so you can have people who have no business putting permanent ink on folks doing just that, en masse. Tattoos became a major fashion thing in the last 10 years, so we saw an explosion of tattoo studios with literally no experience in the industry kicking out tattoos. These same folks don't have experience in the arts (in a lot of cases) so they'll lift someone else's work as theirs to get a sale, which leads to someone having a design that may be associated with a group they do not wish to be associated with (IE: ultra-nationalist found out that his reaper design was from some ACAB shit I made, and he was not thrilled, even though I thought it was hilarious.) Additionally, a lot of the more questionable studios engage in super controversial sales tactics pressuring clients to move forward on projects when they aren't 100% comfortable (ie: you don't get to see the tattoo until you're in the chair, strictly to save time as to maximize profit on a permanent work of art, and to avoid your client changing their mind.) Back when I was starting out, a lot of the freelance work I received was coming up with designs to help fix those botched jobs, while sending folks to a credible artist, so I had the unfortunate experience of hearing every nightmare story ever. However, like any market that was opening up to big mainstream cashflow, the market ended up flooded so the skill of the average tattoo artist fell like a brick. Only in the last 6 months has the bubble popped with a ton of studios have had trouble staying afloat because the industry reached critical mass. I literally have more options in tattoo studio within a 10 block radius than grocery stores. Mind you, I'm talking about the large group of studios that engage with these practices, and that does in no way mean that I am specifically talking about your studio or your artist. If you work in the industry, you know the folks I'm talking about, and I'm so sorry they make your job so much harder.

This all comes together into a major shitstorm: under-qualified individuals offering a subpar product driving down prices, shoving out the actual qualified professionals, while operating in a legal gray area. Combined with the industrial ink companies that aren't keen on giving straight answers about the contents of their product leaves the entire industry in an absolutely dogwater spot, getting the worst of both worlds. This is not touching on the disgusting potential abuse of power that some individuals choose to take advantage of within these situations. With literally any small amount of regulation, the entire art form would be infinitely easier to get for individuals without having to do a background check on the entire operation. I hope that answers some questions, and I apologize for any typos in my incomprehensible wall of text!

[annadiplosis]

A few months ago I posted a couple photos of my index cards, saying I still didn’t know how and where I’d keep them, and I’ve since developed an Archiving System that combines the cards with a digital spreadsheet and has taken more hours than I will ever admit.

So, since I don’t have a “notebook system” to speak of, I'd like to share the way I archive my journals / sketchbooks / whatever you wanna call them, because I’m very proud of it, and who knows, someone might find it helpful :)

WHY I NEED AN ARCHIVING SYSTEM

The reason I don’t have a notebook system is because I use my books for absolutely everything, from sketches to grocery lists and journaling. It is crucial to me to not have any restrictions or expectations when it comes to my books, and that’s how I’ve managed to fill 43 of them over the years.

But of course, when you’ve been using notebooks without a system for most of your life and you want to read a specific entry, you can easily spend a full hour flipping through a sea of paper until you stumble upon those notes on the Bubonic Plague you took in 2011 or whatever you were trying to find.

SO HERE’S WHAT I DO

When I finish a notebook, I try to determine what its most important contents are: stuff I might want to reference in the future (project ideas, meeting notes) or is very characteristic of a period in my life (friends' drawings, travel logs). Every single page contributes to making the notebook what it is and gives it a unique personality, but not all of them are gonna be keepers, and that's fine (I'd even say fundamental, at least in my case).

These are the extremely generic categories I sort my Chosen Entries into. It's similar to the dot system so many people use, just applied retroactively:

🟣 Study notes 🔵 Work 🟢 Personal 🟡 Projects 🔴 Misc

And here's where the real archiving begins. This info goes into:

1. THE INDEX CARDS

(I always write them in Catalan; this one's a mockup and most of these are not real entries)

A little piece of cardboard with the notebook number, its start and end dates, and most important contents. I keep each index card inside its corresponding notebook, either in its own backpocket or an adhesive one I stick there myself.

This way, whenever I want to take a quick look through the book, I get a general idea of its contents at first glance. Sometimes, just holding it in my hand and reading the index card brings me back to the time when I was keeping it, and that time-travel feeling gives me a rush like no other. I don't know if you can tell, but I'm crazy about my notebooks.

2. THE SPREADSHEET

Same as before, just a couple more pieces of info (number of months, physical description) added to a file with the rest of my notebooks' data. Again, these are not real entries for privacy and language reasons, but they're very similar to the kind of stuff I do keep. The spreadsheet helps me find specific entries with a simple ctrl+f, and it's also a bird's-eye view of my progress through the years as a notebook keeper. I can see when my interests shift, how long some of my most important projects took to come to fruition, and even similar types of entries that repeat every few years which I wasn't even aware of before putting it all together. Absolutely fascinating stuff.

I hope this was useful, or interesting at the very least! If you’re a notebook keeper trying to find their own archiving system, my main advice would be to start early so you don’t have to deal with almost two decades of material like I did :’)

If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask.

Good luck 🖤

[k2ntoss]

“Is this ok?” As they stare up at you from in between your legs. (Consent is so fucking hot and important)

“Please mark me, I want everyone to know I’m yours.”

“Spread your legs baby, that’s it… Wider.”

This with Jaybird plsss

well, here we are with more smutty posts for my people <3 thanks for your request, dear anon !! and yeah, get used to long writing bc i can't put my ideas in short stuff :3 sooooo consent king jaybird here!

"is this okay?" as they stare up at you from in between your legs + "please mark me, i want everyone to know i'm yours" + "spread your legs baby, that's it... wider"

it's been a year since jason asked you out for the first time and he's always been sweet with you, it took him a little to open up to you but there wasn't a time where he would actually done something bad to you. always giving you your space and thinking on your comfort, going at your pace with anything about your relationship. it's been a year full of soft kisses, cute dates and sweet cuddling until this night.

"are you really sure you want this, sweetheart?" jason asks you, he's sitting by your side in the couch, his arm drapped around your shoulder but he looks at you with his eyes slightly widened as you nod with a small smile, he doesn't know how your conversation went from your last movie night to talking about the things you liked to do in bed.

"i mean, i want it but it's okay if you don't, jay." you'd say with a cute smile, jason has been so respectful of your boundaries you wanted to do the same for him and you knew that for him all kinds of physical touch meant absolute trust on your partner and even more when it was something so intimate as making love.

"i want it too, but just promise me you'll tell me if it gets too much or if you feel uncomfortable, okay?" the way jason looks into your eyes and sticks his pinkie out for you to promise him that just melts your heart. when you hook your finger with his he leans in, taking your lips in a slow and sweet kiss, his hand running slowly to get to your waist before pulling you close.

at that point words die on your mouth, his lips devouring yours as the kiss grows deeper and his tongue trails your bottom lip, a soft sigh leaving your longs when jason sits you on his lap for a brief moment before he stands up with you into his arms to walk to the room you share with him. jason holds you as if you could break at the smallest movement so he lays you carefully on the bed, your back pressed softly against the matress when he breaks the kiss.

his forehead is pressed against yours as his hands slide under your shirt, the way your arms wrap around his shoulders while showering his face in sweet kisses makes him feel more sure of what he's doing and that's how it goes at first; jason takes off your clothes swiftly and without rushing it, his lips glued to your neck and collarbone as he leaves sweet pecks on your skin without biting or sucking on your skin even if he's dying to, because jason loves a little ownership and you notice it whenever he calls you his girl or when he pulls you by the waist when someone is being too friendly with you.

"please mark me," your voice comes out soft but a little breathless when he kisses his way between your breasts as he takes off your bra and he stops to look at you with a raised eyebrow "i want everyone to know i'm yours." and that's all jason needs because the conviction in your eyes tells him you want it.

"you want everyone to know you're mine, princess? want everyone to know how good i make you feel?" he asks in a low voice, a grunt escapes his lips when he first sinks his teeth on your neck and the moan you let out sounds just heavenly for him, they keep comming out when his hands travel from your back to your tits, groping and squeezing them as he sucks a few hickeys on the side of your throat, fingers rolling your nipples before he pinches them and smirks against your skin.

"yes, jay please" you nod and it just gets better when he kisses a trail down to your stomach, fingers toying with the edge of your panties before pulling them down at a torturing pace just to feel your goosebumps and he seems so playful for someone that was sweetly kissing your neck a few minutes ago it just works to turn you on even more.

his lips travel to your hips, kissing your side once he gets rid of your underwear as his hands pull your legs up and spreads them just to make room for his body between them but before he moves he needs to make you feel comfortable, he thinks as he sees your cheeks flushed and notices how you find it hard to look at him.

jason is a big guy so he knows he won't just fit really comfortably between your legs without having you to be completely spread for him. he kisses your knee lovingly, trying to ease your shyness a bit before he coos you.

"spread your legs baby," he speaks softly, a few more kisses on your calf as he soothingly caresses your thigh and it makes you feel less nervous as you spread your legs a bit more "that's it... wider" he guides you and once he sees your legs spread open for him he kisses his way down your thighs, kissing them both as he hears your moans and feels your heat growing.

suddenly the sight is just too good to miss it and the low moan that comes out of his lungs when he first kisses your cunt makes your breath catch. jason looks way too good with his eyes closed as he hums in satisfaction when he licks between your folds, arousal pooling on his tongue as your hand dives into his black hair, back arching and the high pitched moan that you let out when he sucks on your clit makes him look up at you.

"is this okay?" jason asks in a raspy voice, his eyes look glazed over but they still hold the same care and love he's shown since the very first day for you and his actions only make you feel more turned on as if he wasn't already all perfect he had to hit you with the careful prince behavior, always seeking for your comfort and pleasure before his own.

you nod, eyes fixed on his green ones and the smile he gifts you adds to all the feelings that swirl into your body because as soon as he goes back to your pussy you can only moan his name, fingers gently tugging his hair "god jason," you pull his hair a bit harder when his teeth graze your nub and he growls in a way that sends shivers down your spine "keep going, please."

and he does, jason licks and sucks like he was starving and before you get to call his name again he has two fingers teasing your entrace. he pulls away for a bit, one arm holding your hips still as he looks up at you "you just taste so good, love... and you sound so needy" he starts, there's a need on him to call you names because you told him you liked it but he doesn't want to push his luck already.

"mhm how do i sound?" you ask him, you know him too well to know he's holding back and the hunger on his gaze tells you you're damn right. he pushes his fingers into you, curling them as soon as your wet, warm walls embrace his digits and he finds that puffy spot that makes you moan loudly.

"like a pretty needy slut" he growls before biting a red mark on your thigh, moving his fingers in slow and deep strokes that grow a bit faster when he goes back to suck and flick his tongue on your sensitive clit, playing with you as much as you allow him because he loves the way you give in to him, how much you trust him to give you so much pleasure and how much you trust him to let you find his own pleasure on your body.

[somewhat-insane]

~Shadowpeach Headcanons (I'm Delusional)~

I did this because I was bored... so if you happen to like this... uh... feel free to suggest other things you would want to see headcanons for (I also take art and one-shot requests too -3- (pleaseee, I need ideassss))

Neither of them bothers labeling their relationship (Macaque is more aware of identities and labels and identifies as bisexual. On the other hand, if you ask Wukong about his pronouns, he'll just stare at you silently before completely changing the subject.)

Wukong may be a jerk, but one thing he absolutely WON'T do is make fun of Macaque's art. (He was always happy when Macaque would express himself when they were younger and still has a similar mentality about it. Definitely would diss anyone else's art though.)

Both are subconsciously protective of the other's boundaries (Macaque steers clear of subjects that might trigger memories of Wukong's past, and Wukong makes sure others don't get too loud around Macaque (while still forgetting to check his own volume.) If you were to ask them, they'd say it's because they're the only ones who get to antagonize each other.)

Wukong is surprisingly good at dancing; Macaque is salty about it.

They fall asleep facing away from each other and then wake up cuddling

At first, they would stick around each other just to be annoying, but it slowly turned into them genuinely hanging out, and now they have regular "dates."

Macaque writes notes to remind Wukong of things when he can't be there to remind him himself, and Wukong doodles on them (and then forgets what he was supposed to do anyway)

Wukong likes to draw Macaque smiling (both genuine smiles and that bastard smile he does)

Macaque is surprisingly cuddly in the morning.

They are groggy after waking up, but sometimes Wukong will be up all night and super energetic when Mac wakes up.

Macaque constantly rearranges the furniture, and Wukong runs into stuff because he moves through rooms on muscle memory

Macaque tries flirting with Wukong, but it all goes over his head. Meanwhile, Wukong says things that fluster Macaque without even knowing it.

Macaque laughs so hard at Wukong that he snorts, and Wukong teases him for it.

They have so many inside jokes that their conversations have become incomprehensible to people who don't know them.

They don't like beds and will shove a bunch of blankets in a corner and curl up there if they can't sleep outside because it's raining.

They have serious talks late at night that they both pretend never happened in the morning.

Both of them get really excited about random things and will info dump on each other

Macaque is scared of his food/drinks being contaminated and won't eat/drink something that is out of his sight for too long; sometimes, he trusts Wukong to watch his food, and other times doesn't

Wukong loves eating peaches and playing in the dirt but hates the feeling of his skin being sticky or dirt under his claws; Macaque will grumble and huff but will eventually clean him up

They make weird noises at each other.

Wukong still doesn't understand tech and constantly has to ask Macaque for help. Macaque is more knowledgeable than Wukong but still has to ask MK for help helping Wukong sometimes.

Wukong doesn't save his drawings because he doesn't think they're that important, but Macaque always keeps them. The same can be said vice versa.

[kdramastrix]

I have. Something to talk about and its very very VERY important.

We know that last scene of TDJ where its just PEAK yearning but can we PLEASE appreciate the micro-expressions that passed over both Yohan & Gaon's faces when they faced each other DIRECTLY after a MONTH (if im not wrong) of that whole blowing up fiasco + Yohan's arrest before that??????? Because my GOD.

So we see Gaon call Yohan by his Full Government Name™ (which wasn't very wise for a declared dead enemy of the state who is ALSO wanted but we'll let it pass for romanticisms' sake) and look at his face. His face is one of a scared man. He's not hesitant but he is afraid of how Yohan views him after what transpired between them.

In turn, Yohan looks back and well.

He is also somewhat apprehensive. They're both testing each other & the waters they're in. Although Yohan doesn't have a revenge vendetta shackling him down anymore, Gaon, on the other hand, has tremendous stuff to unpack. They're carefully, if not gently, evaluating the distance between them.

And then, Yohan gives a clear sign that he holds nothing against Gaon. An open arm, an open invitation. To join him? Maybe. To decide what to do with them? Perhaps. It's vague but it's also clear that Yohan is done manipulating Gaon & that he has left the ball in Gaon's court.

Then come the positive changes. With Yohan's green signal, Gaon is somewhat relieved but also incredibly guilt-ridden. I think these frames speak for themselves.

The wet smile & the eye crinkles. He is so relieved to be in Yohan's good graces but also just looking at Yohan be his ever glowing self after serving his life's purpose.

Yohan. My dearest Yohan. Look at him. He's equally heart-broken to be seeing Gaon like this, to be leaving him behind but that little nod he does???? Like he's made a decision that he needs to stick with for the betterment of Gaon???? That's what truly gets me. It's so clear the distance between them is hurting him but he also knows that it's necessary to give Gaon space & time, to unravel & to explore things on his own. Perhaps another assumption on his part because who truly knows what Gaon wants except Gaon himself?

Then it's a brief look exchanged. As he turns, giving Gaon one last reassuring smile as he turns and leaves behind one of the most important people to him.

And gaon watches. Look at his micro-expressions here. Look at his breathing. His sagging shoulders. His eyes. His wet smile. His balled hands. His tiny nods.

He also thinks this is necessary but you can so clearly see its taking every bit of nerve & fiber in him to stay rooted to his place & not chase after Yohan. He's DELIBERATELY not taking a single step towards Yohan. He thinks he doesn't deserve to chase after him, that hes content to see Yohan: alive, well and so utterly free. That's all that matters.

I would genuinely like to appreciate both jinyoung and jisung for their acting bcs they NAILED the raw emotions needed for this absolutely stunning yet gut wrenching scene. It's so difficult to convey such complex emotions through such little means yet they did it to PERFECTION. They both gave their characters LIFE. And for that i will always be grateful bcs i dont think anyone else could've done Kang Yohan and Kim Gaon the way they did.

[adventuringblind]

Caught in a Lie

Maxiel x Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: The reader gets caught in Max's shenanigans and decides to take the blame. Daniel isn't happy she lied for Max, third time WDC or not.

Warnings: BDSM, dom/sub, sub reader, switch Max, dom Daniel, spanking, unprotected PinV, Overstimulation, mild denial if you squint, Max being a menace

Notes: I have a website now! It would mean a lot if Y'all checked it out. I'm still working on it but it's a fun creative project. It's still in the works, so if you have suggestions, I will gladly take them.

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It really wasn't her fault. Max had been the conspirator. She was just the bait. Unknowingly, mind you. The bastard had done this on purpose!

Winning a third title had inflated his ego far too much. They couldn't celebrate properly in Qatar. Alcohol sure, sex had to wait. Not because any of them wanted to, Daniel had made it a point that sex, especially the kind they do, needs to come after races. Thursdays and Fridays can be soft things. Saturdays are an absolute no. Then Sunday comes around, and they are trying to get back to wherever they are staying as fast as possible.

Now, back at home in Monaco, nothing to disturb their peace. They decide to ruin it all by going out. It's one of her least favorite activities. Being in bed with the cat has her name on it. But Max wants to celebrate, and Daniel is social, so she drags herself out of bed.

She should've known something was amiss when Max said he got something for her to wear out. She should've known it was going to end this way when Max whistled at her and laughed, whereas Daniel's eyes had darkened. The familiar look he gets when he wants to absolutely take her apart and build her up piece by euphoric piece.

She'd caught Max's arm on the way out. "What the hell are you playing at?"

"Felt like a show tonight," he shrugs, then winks at her.

The black dress barely covers her ass. It's lacy all over and sheer aside from the important places. She wears stuff like this often since it's something she likes. It doesn't make sense why this would be the thing to drive him insane.

Dancing had been fun. Their other Monaco friends had come out with them to celebrate. Daniel's eyes had burned into her every time she moved. Much to her surprise, he wasn't the only one.

Carlos Sainz is staring at her from the corner. He looks like he's trying desperately not to but failing miserably. He turns away every time she catches him, still exuding confidence.

It's not well known that she's dating Max and Daniel. They've been friends for a long time. Friendship turned into a situationship, which then made them confess. They look like they always do to the outside world. To touchy to simply be platonic but no real announcement that any of the three are taken.

Carlos was staring, Daniel was glaring, Max was smirking, and she was the center of it all. Embarrassment hit her like a train when she realized she'd been played. Max was watching Carlos stare at her and snickering about it.

Feeling insecure, she went to get some air. The joy of feeling nice in a dress Max had picked out now ruined from knowing why he did it. He was playing a game. He could've at least asked first.

Daniel and Max find her outside slumped against the wall. She can still hear Max laughing about something and it's pissing her off.

"Stop laughing at me!" She throws her arms up in defeat and turns her back to them. "I didn't ask to be ogled at by Carlos, Max."

"Then why did you pick that specific dress?" Daniel spins her around and pins her to the wall. A shiver runs up her spine as his breath sticks to her ear. "The exact one Carlos had mentioned wanting to see on a pretty thing like you."

She doesn't know whether to blush or cower. She ends up settling for both at the same time. She debates her options. Either she tells the truth and saves herself, or she takes whatever punishment is coming her way.

Once. She will do this one time for Max since he just won his title.

"I picked it out because I thought it looked nice and you would like it. I swear I didn't know Carlos liked this dress and was going to be here tonight." She's pleading desperately with her voice. Maybe she'll get lucky.

Max has gone oddly silent. She tries not to even look at him, let Daniel figure out she's taking the blame for the Dutch.

Daniel is still staring her down. The silence hanging thick between them until he decides to break it. "Anything to add, Maxy?"

Noticing Daniel's mood, he doesn't answer. A smart move by him. Daniel just hums and grabs her wrist to lead the charge to the car.

None of them speak during the short ride home. She hates every second of it. Daniel is probably mulling over everything he wants to do to her. She feels like a child waiting for their parent to start a lecture.

Daniel waits for them to get their shoes off before turning to face them in the entryway of the apartment. "Where'd you buy the dress from?"

And he'd seen right through it. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember, or you weren't told?"

She winces when his tone goes soft. The one that makes her drop to her knees for him. Well, any tone from Daniel can have that effect on her. This one is just the one that makes her all fuzzy in the head. “I don’t remember,” she whispers.

Daniel sighs heavily. “Alright, if you’re not going to tell me the truth then I guess I’ll have to spank it out of you.” She nearly falls over, but manages to catch herself. “Bedroom, clothes off and on your knees.”

She scrambles to comply. The drop is imminent at this point. She just hopes Max enjoys the show because this will not be happening again. At least, she hopes.

The clothes come off and are folded neatly in a pile. She feels cold, exposed, and bit insecure, and then yet the floaty feeling is threatening to spill over. Her knees digging into the carpet don’t help that.

Max comes into the room silently. Daniel must have said something to him because he kneels next to her. Not a rare occurrence, but is mildly unusual.

“Max.” The stern tone has Max grumbling, but he gets back up off the floor, strips, then kneels again.

Daniel beckons her over to him. Her face is flushed red with embarrassment as she stands between his still covered legs. “You have the choice to tell the truth or not. I’m not mad at you, but I’m sad you felt like you needed to lie about what happened tonight. So, I’m going to keep spanking you until you tell the truth.”

“Yes sir.” It comes out so easily; a second nature now. She lays across his lap, trying to hold back the already threatening tears.

“What are your colors, baby girl?”

“Green is good, yellow is slow down and talk, red is stop.”

“Good, what’s your color?”

“Green.”

She’s probably too far gone already to really say no at this point. She just needs his hands on her in any kind of way.

The first hit shocks her. It’s not the hardest he’s can go by any means, but it still stings. “I’m gonna keep going until I get the truth.” She remains silent and another hit lands to the other side.

The next three have no rhythm and are more towards the tops of her thighs. She whimpers a bit but doesn’t give in. This is for Max. He wanted a show, he won the title, and she’s willing to, unfortunately, provide.

Daniel tugs her hair back and forces her eyes to look at his face. Four more hits and she’s hissing. Each one is harder than the last.

She starts getting hazy around number twenty-five. She's taken more, but the fact that Daniel keeps sweetly telling her she can stop this by telling the truth makes it worse. Like every hit is sending further to the breaking point. Not the good one, mind you, the one where she cries and tells him the whole story.

"Just tell the truth, baby." He lands another five hits in rapid succession. Each one burning more than the last. The tears have started free falling and are making Daniel's leg wet and salty.

"Color baby?"

"Green," She manages to sniffle out. Voice high and cracking. Why is she getting punished again? Oh, right, for Max. It should really be him up here.

The overwhelming urge to do as Daniel says hits somewhere around hit forty. The breaking point has reared its ugly head. She starts bawling her eyes out as the last hit is the hardest she's received thus far. "Yellow!"

Daniel halts any movement. "Did that last one hit too hard?" The softness in his voice only brings more tears.

"I'm sorry!" She drops all her body weight over his legs. "Max got the dress. He said he picked it out for me. I didn't know anything about Carlos. Then, right before he left, I asked him what was going on, and he said he wanted a show. I figured he did just win his title, and I didn't want him to get in trouble, so I lied."

"Oh, baby girl." Daniel helps her up and lays back so she can plaster herself on his chest. "I knew what was going on, but I wanted you to tell the truth. I'm not mad at you, okay?" He runs soothing fingers along her spine. It only makes the tears come harder. "That must've been hard! I'm so proud of you for telling me the truth. I know you wanted to do it for Max, but sometimes Maxy needs to learn his own lesson."

Daniel slides out from underneath her and grabs something from the bedside table. "I'm gonna take care of you now, okay? You did so well. I'm not upset. I just needed to hear the truth." She doesn't hold back the tears as Daniel works on getting her cleaned up. "So good for me," He coos to help her calm down.

She's lost all sense of time. She has no idea of how long she's been over Daniel's or how long he's been cleaning her up for.

She's still splayed out on the bed facing, now facing Max and his solemn expression.

"Here's what we're going to do. Max wanted a show, so that's what he's gonna get since we are celebrating his win." He turns towards Max. The Dutch's knees can't be feeling good at all. Daniel leans down and forces his head upwards. A few seconds at the Australian, then holding on her.

Daniel drags over a chair and rips Max up from the floor. "You are going to sit here and watch. You will not move, you will not touch, you will not make a sounds. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, color?"

Max looks oddly and achingly hard from her position. It makes her wonder if this is actually what he wanted or if he's just slipping further. It takes more to put max down, but Daniel is good at getting him there if the occasion calls for it.

"Green."

Daniel, much to her relief, finally gets his clothes off. He leaves on his boxers for the moment, though the outline of his hard on is obvious. It has been since they got in the car to come home. “Baby girl, do you want my fingers or my tongue tonight?”

“Tongue please.” Pleasurable shivers run down her spine. Sometimes, she’s convinced that Daniel was molded by Greek gods and sent to live among the humans solely because his tongue can work miracles.

Her head hangs off the bed giving her an upside-down view of Max. His skin has flushed even more since the last time she saw him.

She doesn't get much time to think about it. Daniel's tongue presses against her and she loses herself. He knows her body like it's his favorite book to read, movie to watch, and song to hear.

Her fingers slip easily into his black curls. His hands are on her waist, absolutely buried in her. She's going to feel the bruises soon, but it only adds the pleasure of it.

Her free hand flies to cover her mouth out of habit. She makes it half-way before Daniel snatches her wrist and pins it to her side so he can grip both her hip and her hand.

The strings of moans and profanities leaving her are not even close to the way she can hear Max whining behind her. High pitched and desperate.

Daniel is lapping at her like she's producing healing waters and he'll die without it. Nose bumping against her just right. The grip on her body only getting strong as she writhes around in ecstasy.

"Sir please - need to - please-" It comes out strangled in panted breaths and heavy moans.

He doesn't stop. Never does to tell them yes. Daniel taps her hip with his index finger three times. She jumps over the edge without any kind of hesitation. Plunging herself in the familiar feeling of warmth overwhelming amounts of dopamine and serotonin.

Her back arches. Daniel holds her in place as her body contorts in every direction in an attempt to push him away. He is unmoving wall. A force she can't do anything but submit her body to.

Daniel leaves her alone for a mere minute. Only to drag Max over, fingers clutched around the back of his neck. He slams Max onto the bed and manhandles him until he's right where Daniel wants him.

He then moves to flip her. In between them and still sopping. "Think you can keep Max in your mouth?"

Of course she can, she's done it enough times. The consent thing still makes her melt either way. "Yes, sir."

"Good, I think we've tortured Max enough. We are still celebrating his win, after all." There is a hint of mischief behind Daniel's eyes that doesn't go unnoticed.

Daniel, mouth still wet with her, kisses Max in the sloppiest manner she's ever seen.

She stares in awe for all of ten seconds. Her ogling is cut short by Daniel gripping her hair and shoving Max's length down her throat. She gags at the suddenness but recovers quickly and gets to work.

She can't see what Daniel is doing anymore. Their positioning is not the most convenient for watching. She can hear it though, and It's driving her insane. Max's body is quivering and it's an effort to stay where she is and not bite down every time he jerks in a different direction.

It takes less time than normal for him to spill down her throat. Daniel is quick to rip her off and get her over Max. Her ass still stings from earlier, but she could care less as Daniel plays puppet master and guides Max into her.

It's a stretch, Max certainly isn't small, but she's well adjusted.

She loses her head again when Daniel sets her pace. Max is wrecked from the lack of stimulation into a constant stream of it. Daniel rips off his boxers and slams into Max's mouth. "Bet you wish you hadn't done all that snickering, huh?" Max is so far down that his eyes are rolling at Daniels tone. The gentle one that is condescending enough to make anyone whimper.

Daniel keeps talking, she's registering his voice, but has no idea what he's saying anymore. She can't even hear past her own moans. She can't feel anything besides the hands on her body and the overwhelming number of endorphins flooding her mind.

Kissing. Daniel is kissing her through another jump off an even larger cliff.

Flipped over again. This time Daniel is slamming into at an unholy pace. Maybe Daniel is a fallen angel. To good with his body to stay in heaven, so he brought heaven to the humans.

Fingers. Max's fingers are everywhere. He shoves them down her throat and coos as she mans around them. Rough calloused hands made for drowning her in whatever this cacophony of feelings is.

Her favorite song on replay. Over and over and over again. Never getting old.

She comes back to herself at some point. Nobody has clothes on still. Daniel and Max are gently coaxing her muscles to still.

"Hey baby, you passed out on us." Max's voice is still fuzzy. She groans in response. Every inch of her is in some state of pain, pleasure, or both.

"We're gonna try a bath, okay? I want to help the bruises as much as possible." She nods against Daniel's chest, agreeing that would be a brilliant idea.

"Before we do that though, I want so apologize." Max sounds timid and unsure of himself. His hands wring together in anxiety. "I shouldn't have set that up. It made you both uncomfortable and I should've just asked."

Daniel pulls Max back on top of their cuddle pile. "I would've happily made this happen and I will happily do it again."

That same mischievous glint comes back to Daniel despite the exhaustion. They end up laughing deliriously all the through their aftercare routine.

Yeah, she'd happily do this again too.