#balloon knot

[contac]

[kiwiplaetzchen]

[cloacacarnage]

[xoverworkedandunderpaidx]

Us, before the episode aired: oh look they dropped a still of a cute Romitri moment 🥰

When the episode airs:

[rubenesque-as-fuck]

Secret of mine: i frequently think of eating my friends ass

Well, does your friend want their ass eaten? Have you considered offering? Is your friendship ready to take this important step? These are important things to consider

[lickithrice]

Bottoming is easily one of the most confusingly hard things I consistently attempt to do.

[bibleofficial]

im just 😀 like 😭 this is the last time i have a protein shake w/o adding flax seed … yall i’m dying

[theonewholovesyou]

OH MY GOD HES SUCH A BRAT AND HE FUCKING GETS AWAY WITH IT BECAUSE LOOK AT HIM????

[contac]

[cyancherub]

Now I'm going to unconsciously replace "ass//asshole" in fics with balloon knot ,thank you very much 😂

"Oh yeah,you like that? You like it when I fuck you in the balloon knot uh? you dirty little slut?"

🤣

NOOOOOOOOOOOO SLDFLSDL

[user-needs-new-hyperfixation]

Book One San Lang is so funny. He put his whole ghostussy into his human disguise -- every palm line and fingerprint in place, every strand of hair perfect -- but then he's just so blatantly Weird™. Like sure this teenage nepo baby wandering around on a whim because he was fighting with his parents will definitely take all of this Scary Supernatural Stuff in stride with no more than a very transparently flirtatious "I'm sca-wed gege. 🥺" Sure, he definitely just has casual encyclopedic knowledge of gods and defunct kingdoms going back almost a millennium and featuring details that aren't available on Wuxiapedia, and he can read dead languages. Of course he exhibits random carpentry skills. He stabs a guy with a chopstick and then shrugs when he deflates like a skin balloon. He cheerfully ties venomous snakes into knots and very evidently explodes them with his mind. Just Normal Human Kid things!

[swagging-back-to]

tw lots of bad stuff, torture, violation, etc

one thing people allllways seem to overlook when it comes to someone being tortured by kept tied to a bed or in a tube or whatever is the use of catheters--both urethral and intrarectal-- colostomy bags, and any other waste collection device i dont know about.

it's already INCREDIBLY violating to have catheters put in with consent by someone you trust, let lone by your captor/abuser/torturer against your will. Not to mention the pain that comes with not being able to move and have control over your body, the possibility of severe infection if the device isnt changed or cleaned. colostomy bags are less violating surface level, but depending on the amount of colon an/or intestines removed, as well as if barbie bum surgery was conducted, it can be a drastically life altering and emotionally damaging experience knowing you'll never be able to shit on your own or actually feel your bowel movements (a slightly less life threatening con to this, specifically for gay males, is that they cant have have anal sex if they have barbie bum surgery). Depending on how much of the intestines were removed, malnutrition could also be a major risk. Colostomy bags also require much more upkeep and cleaning, because it's literally a gaping hole in your stomach leading directly to your organs.

[humansofnewyork]

“I never go in for the kill. I know what I look like. I’ve been 6’4” since I was nineteen. When a guy my size makes a move, it can be frightening. So I let the woman lead. I know that when she’s ready, she’ll let me know. She’ll give me the cues. Only when that happens will I pull out the magic wand. This is important. I always ask: ‘If you had a magic wand, what would be your perfect man?’ I let them tell me how they want to be treated. And then I follow instructions. I can’t tell you how many women have told me: ‘Wow. You don’t go down on me like a guy.’ Most men just put their whole face in it. Way too much. Especially if there’s stubble involved. I’d personally recommend shaving your face right beforehand. Shave that shit down until it feels like a baby’s ass. If you’re not gonna do that, at the very least you’ve got to lead with the lips. Use the tongue gently. And don’t go straight for the clitoris. Aim for one o’clock. You can’t go wrong with one o’clock. But don’t just park at one o’clock. Travel around. The entire area is sensitive. With men it’s all about the penis. But with women,  it’s all about everything. Except the butthole. This one is so important. The balloon knot is not for you to touch. Ever, not even once. Unless you’re asked. Even then there’s got to be preparation unless you want the whole house smelling like baby diapers. So always ask. Always, always ask. Ask if she’s comfortable with fingers. Ask if she’s comfortable with penetration. Ask if she’s into verbal. A lot of women don’t want to hear a fucking word. It scares them. So you better ask. Also, and this one might be surprising,  a lot of women don’t want to go face-to-face. If you’re kissing them, or being too intimate, they might lock up. They’ll make it very clear that the intimacy scares them. It’s a heartbreaking thing, because it usually means there’s been some trauma. If that happens, just stop. Stop everything and hold them. Don’t ask them to explain, unless they choose to tell you. Just hold them. Maybe the sex will come later when they’re more comfortable. Maybe it never comes at all. And that’s fine. Just be a gentle soul that they can hold for as long as they need.”

[hookedonhuge]

Coach's Special Massage

Getting your big, beefy pecs groped by your coach was not how you imagined your Tuesday night. 

You were the star player of your team. You were a natural born athlete and you had the body to match it. Every muscle in your body was huge; balloons of cements that were hard as steel and looked ready to burst. It was all thanks to your dedicated exercise routine that you followed religiously for years on end.

But one day, your coach approached you and insisted that you needed a massage therapy session. Something about trying to alleviate your stress after the scandal that came to light. Something about cheating on your girlfriend with other girls. No clue which ones they were talking about. The number ‘three’ kept coming up but your team and coach must have known it was way more than that. 

To be honest, you weren’t stressed one bit, but you weren’t going to turn down a massage, that is, until you found out that it was your coach giving you the massage and not some hot masseuse. Of course, he didn’t tell you that until you were already lying down on the massage table fully naked except for a small towel that barely covered your large package. You protested but your coach was stern, he was, after all, the only person you ever listened to (and that was only some of the time). His deep voice was commanding yet calming, just the right combination to be able to get you to give up the argument. You supposed your muscles needed a good cooldown after your killer workout that day anyway.

You had never met anyone as strong as yourself, and were certain you never would. However, coach was actually quite strong too, and it was perhaps why you showed at least a little bit of respect towards him. However, having your chest fondled by his large, calloused hands was quite the role reversal for you. He pressed deep into your muscle tissue with his thick fingers, uncovering all sorts of knots in your expansive chest. It hurt but it felt amazing. 

After coach had given your pecs a thorough rub down, he moved onto your giant tree-trunk legs. It was when he was massaging your inner thigh that coach pressed down on a particularly sensitive spot in your muscles that made you wince in pain. For the first time during the session you opened your eyes and you met coach’s firm gaze by accident. Sweat dripped from his prominent brow and he was panting from exertion. You never realised how big he was. Those veiny arms, those meaty pecs, those sculpted abs, he was just a coach but he could have passed as an olympian. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that someone as strong as coach was needed to give someone as big as you a proper massage. 

Coach continued to knead your thighs like dough. He was able to make your hard muscles soft, as if he was unlocking some hidden strength inside of them that made them expand. Like a loaf of bread rising in an oven, your muscles were becoming large and fluffy in response to coach’s special massage.

He continued working his magic on your body, as he did his hands made their way further up your inner thigh. Coach’s intensity never waned and his forceful and methodical strokes continued to cause you pain. It was a beautiful, deep, healing pain that exposed a feeling of vulnerableness that was buried within you. It was uncomfortable to feel that vulnerability yet as soon as his fingers released their tight bind a reassuring warmth flooded in to replace it. That cycle of comfort and discomfort, it was overwhelming and at the same time made you completely content. 

By this point, coach was completely in control of you. You anxiously anticipated his every touch, your entire being yearning for his return whenever his hands left your body. Your emotions were connected to his fingers, as if he were a puppet master, and he graciously continued to pull your strings instead of leaving you hanging.

As coach’s hands made their way up even further up your thigh, they reached parts of your muscles that were unbearably tender. Having those spots massaged, it made your skin glisten with sweat and it laboured your breath. You felt like you were burning; you were hot, coach was hot, it was all hot. It wasn’t just hot, it was sensual.

You hadn’t realised, but the towel that was covering your crotch was ever so slowly being lifted up by some great force underneath. It was only when it slid down and landed on your impeccably toned lower abdomen that it dawned on you the effect that coach’s massage was having. 

“It’s only natural.” Coach said to you in a hushed tone. “Nothing to be ashamed of.” It was all the reassurance you needed at that moment. Coach’s hands were so far up your thighs that they were almost brushing against your heavy balls. His massage was reaching a new level of pain, and to accompany it was an equal level of pleasure.

When coach’s knuckle grazed the underside of one of your nuts, it was as if a circuit had been completed. You were electrified. The feeling of pressure on your deep muscle tissue, the feeling of the humid air blowing across your nipples, the feeling of coach’s sweat falling from his face onto your sculpted abs; it was all too much. Your manhood pointed directly to the ceiling, now displaying the full extent of its impressive length and girth.

Coach grabbed it.

His hand, a man’s hand, grasped firmly onto the base of your shaft. It was heaven. Heaven for a sinner. That’s what made it so great. The fact that it was wrong, all wrong, but right, undoubtedly right. Boiling hot skin against boiling hot skin. The fires of hell met the fires of hell, and it was heaven.

He was so slow at first. He wanted you to feel every crease and callus on his hand. Enough time for you to understand the anatomy of his hand; understand the size, power and function of each muscle in it. You learnt how each tiny pore on his palm absorbed sweat and the amazing texture it created. You might have failed biology in the past but at this moment you understood it all.

Then it got faster. It started at the head, the head that was sensitive, swollen, and begging for release. Then down every countless inch, tracking along the thick, serpentine vein that ran its length. Finally, it slammed into the base, pummelling into the spongy balls below and sprang all the way back up. It was one step performed one after the other, and it was also all at once.

Then it got even faster. It was a whole body experience. All the training, all those years in the gym, it led up to that moment. Every muscle working in unison to stop you from exploding. Your breath stopped. Your thoughts stopped. Coach stopped.

The massage resumed. It was his other hand now, and it was your balls. Your balls that were completely filled to the brim, so much so that the skin had no ability to stretch any further. Yet, coach still massaged. He pressed, he squeezed. His thumb glided to one side and the mass displaced into the other side. He was an expert.

“Your past.” His voice. Deep, calming, instructive. His words were all you needed. “Can’t be forgiven, but we can move on from that.” He tightened his grip on your balls. “You are far too good to give up on.” He started stroking the length of your shaft again. “So let’s just put all this girl stuff behind us.” He started slowly. “Instead, focus on your team. Your team of men.” Then he picked up his pace. “Men. Strong men, like me and you.” It became faster. “Men who will support you, fill all your needs.” And faster. “All your desires.” You couldn’t hold it in much longer. “Men.” You were on the very edge of your climax. “Just men.”

For the first time in your life you moaned. You moaned loud and shamelessly. It was completely contrary to the person you were before. Luckily, the person you were before is gone. When you erupted like a volcano, like a burst pipe, like a fire hydrant; nothing was left behind. Your brain had melted into a white, creamy liquid and it was shot out of you. Then it rained back down on you like a tropical shower; hot, humid, and sticky.

You were on a better path now. A path towards becoming a bigger person, both morally and physically. It was all thanks to him. Coach. He showed you the power of men that you foolishly thought you already had. You learnt that night the power of men coming together, and what a wonderful feeling it is.

[crabsnpersimmons]

"Hair dyes or perms or just a quick snip, you can always count on your ol' pal Clip!"

it's about time i officially shared my design for Clip from my hairdresser au! here's the silly boi himself!

a.k.a. the most complicated character i've ever designed...

close ups and additional comments under the cut!

that's my boi, despite his crazy design, i love him. his silly top knot hat, the horn-like points around his faceplate, his speckled colours, his four arms, and his funky pants. he's just soooooo fun.

Clip likes to play games and knit! he even made the patchwork pants he wears (he made Sun and Moon a pair too, but they're too precious for them to wear... also a little gaudy to wear in public—doesn't stop Clip tho!). He actually makes everything the boys wear, since there's not a lot of things in their size/shape.

instead of resting at night, he can be found in their living room, playing Kirby 64 for the nth time and/or knitting something. he's just too restless to stay still, he's always gotta be doing something and if it isn't gaming, knitting, or hairdressing, then he's up to No GoodTM.

Clip... likes popping balloons. he says "Goodnight!" with each popped balloon and once he's done, he tosses up the scraps like confetti all while giggling joyfully.

needless to say, he is not fun at parties. Sun and Moon don't let him near balloons for this reason.

and yes, he has sewing needles on hand at all times. for fashion emergencies... and for unsuspecting balloons.

Clip's not allowed to have a phone (just imagine all the in-app purchases Sun and Moon would have to deal with), but he likes to keep up with his customers and their games, even if he doesn't get their fixation over bluenets he'll never openly admit it but he prefers curly-haired blond hunks that look sweet in soft pastels but could also squash him like the spider he is

also, he's great at microbraiding! though i imagine if Sun and Moon are free, they'd come help to shorten the wait but also to compete and see who braids the most (Clip always wins of course—make anything into a game, and he's winning)

aaaaand there's this! i wanted to make sure Clip would be able to freely rotate his waist so his arms could have their full range of motion, and this was the solution i came up with: a crop top on top and a wrap around his waist. and Clip here is being a sneaky little scamp about it.

[werecreature-addicted]

Concept: werewolf partner who wants to fuck you before the full moonrise so they'll be a lot calmer once they turn. Unfortunately you don't time it well so they end up transforming when they're balls deep inside of you. The condom pops like a cheap balloon and before you know it they're pushing their fat knot into your cunt and pumping a litter into you. Then of course once the knot deflates they decide that one load clearly wasn't enough. They've already bred you once, why waste the opportunity to do it again and again and again?

ahhh just that moment where they shift balls deep in your pussy and you feel it from the inside how they grow and swell all while looking up as their skin rips and shifts into a hairy beast form. you don't even have time to worry about the condom you're getting split in half with werewolf cock with only a few seconds to adjust.