#cotton pillow protector

[postureformpillows]

Sleep in Comfort: Exploring the Benefits of Pillow Protectors

Sleep hygiene plays a crucial role in our overall health, and maintaining a clean, allergen-free sleep environment is key. Among the tools at our disposal to enhance this environment, cotton pillow protectors stand out for their comfort, breathability, and protective qualities. This article delves into why cotton pillow protectors are an essential part of a healthy bedroom, ensuring a cleaner and more restful night's sleep.

The Importance of Pillow Protectors

Pillow protectors are a fundamental component of healthy sleep hygiene, serving crucial roles that go beyond simple bedding additions. They are instrumental in maintaining both the longevity and cleanliness of your sleep environment, offering multiple protective benefits:

Allergen Barrier: Pillow protectors form an effective shield against common allergens like dust mites, pet dander, and pollen, which can settle in your pillows. For those with allergies or asthma, these protectors are essential in minimizing exposure to these irritants, ensuring a healthier breathing environment while you sleep.

Moisture Protection: They are particularly important for keeping your pillows dry by blocking sweat, oils, and other body fluids that could otherwise soak into the pillow. This moisture can create an ideal breeding ground for mold and bacteria, which not only deteriorate the pillow but can also pose health risks. Pillow protectors help prevent these issues, ensuring your pillows remain dry and hygienic.

Enhanced Lifespan: Beyond health benefits, pillow protectors significantly extend the lifespan of your pillows. By protecting against stains and moisture, they prevent the premature breakdown of materials within your pillows. This means less frequent need for pillow replacement, which is both cost-effective and better for environmental sustainability.

Ease of Cleaning: Pillow protectors simplify the maintenance of your bedding. Easily removable and machine washable, they make it straightforward to keep your sleep area fresh and clean without having to wash the entire pillow, which can be cumbersome and potentially harmful to its structure and comfort.

Why Choose Posture Form Pillow Protectors?

Tencel is a natural fibre known for its comfort, durability, and hypoallergenic properties, making it an ideal choice for pillow protectors for several reasons:

Breathability: allows for excellent airflow, which helps regulate temperature and keeps the sleeping surface cool and comfortable.

Moisture Absorption: It naturally absorbs moisture, reducing the discomfort of night sweats and maintaining a dry sleeping environment.

Softness and Comfort: Tencel protectors add a layer of softness to your pillows, enhancing comfort without compromising the feel of your pillow.

Hypoallergenic Properties: Being a natural fibre, cotton is less likely to cause allergic reactions, making it suitable for people with sensitive skin or allergies.

Tencel Pillow Protectors and the Posture Form Pillows

The synergy between high-quality pillows and effective pillow protectors is crucial for maximizing sleep quality. Posture Form’s range of pillows, including the contour and NexGen memory foam pillows, are designed to provide optimum spinal support and comfort. When paired with Tencel pillow protectors, these pillows offer several enhanced benefits:

Optimal Comfort and Support

The Posture Form contour pillow, designed to align your head, neck, and spine, delivers exceptional support. Covering it with a cotton protector preserves the pillow’s integrity while adding a layer of natural comfort that complements the pillow’s ergonomic benefits.

Hygienic Sleep Environment

Our NexGen memory foam is hypoallergenic and infused with natural graphite, promoting cooler sleep and resisting bacterial growth. Encasing this innovative foam in a tencel protector adds an extra hygiene barrier, keeping the pillow fresher for longer and making it easier to maintain.

Durable and Easy to Maintain

The durability of Posture Form pillows combined with the easy care of cotton protectors—machine washable and durable—ensures your sleeping environment remains pristine. This combination not only enhances your comfort but also extends the life of your pillows, providing value over time.

Enhancing Your Sleep Experience

Investing in quality sleep accessories like cotton pillow protectors and ergonomic pillows can transform your sleep experience. Here’s how:

Reduced Neck Pain and Stiffness: The Posture Form contour pillows helps reduce neck strain, and when used with a soft, breathable cotton protector, the experience is enhanced, leading to a softer touch and potentially reducing irritation.

Minimized Muscle Strain: Proper spinal alignment supported by our pillows can be maintained cleanly and effectively with cotton protectors, ensuring the pillow's performance isn’t hindered by moisture or allergens.

Improved Sleep Posture: Maintaining the correct sleep posture is easier when your pillow is protected and maintained well, leading to better overall health and reduced discomfort.

Decreased Aches and Pains: The combination of supportive pillows and protective cotton covers helps alleviate pressure points, reducing tossing and turning and enhancing sleep quality.

Tencel pillow protectors are more than just bedding accessories; they are an investment in your health. By choosing the right protectors for your Posture Form pillows, you ensure that your sleep is not only comfortable but also health-promoting. Check out our selection at Posture Form Pillows to find the perfect complement to your pillow, enhancing both its lifespan and the benefits it provides. Embrace the change a simple addition like a pillow protector can make in your life, starting tonight.

[tranceindia123]

Know the advantages of using quilted pillow covers

During the process of creating a comfortable and healthy sleeping environment, pillow protectors are often overlooked. However, using quality pillow protectors like the Trance Home Linen, Quilted Pillow Protector Dust Free Water Resistant Covers (Set of 2)will greatly enhance your sleeping experience and increase the lifespan of your pillows. One of the most important reasons to have pillow protectors is to protect your pillows from dust mites, allergens, and other dust. Dust mites love warm, humid places and tend to live in bedding. Dust mites may trigger allergies and asthma problems and result in terrible night's sleep. A quilted pillowcase is a protection that does not allow dust mites to reach your pillows and keeps allergens out. This is particularly useful for those who suffer from respiratory problems or allergies. Accidents do happen—whether you spill a drink in bed, sweat during the night, or maybe drool while you're sleeping. Waterproof pillow protectors offer additional defense against moisture. The water-resistant design keeps liquids from penetrating through your pillows, which keeps them from developing mold and mildew. Dry pillows not only keep your pillows in better condition for longer but also make for a healthier sleeping space.

[damon25]

5 Reasons to purchase our  Quality Pillow Protectors?

If you don’t have them already, T-180 pillow protectors are an essential part of your bedding setup, as they provide several substantial benefits that make for a much more comfortable, hygienic, and long-lasting bedding setup. Here are compelling reasons why investing in quality pillow protectors is a smart choice:

Hygiene and Allergen Protection: A good-quality pillow protector acts as a perfect barrier from dust mites, allergens, and sweat, keeping your sleeping space clean and healthy. It is essential for people with allergies or sensitive skin.

Extended Pillow Lifespan: These durable Pillow protectors are designed to keep pillows from getting stains, spills, and general wear and tear. This means your pillows stay in tip-top shape longer, which saves you money and reduces waste in the long run.

Enhanced Comfort: Many pillow protectors are made of soft, breathable material that adds an extra layer of comfort. They can also help control your temperature so you stay calmer and more relaxed at night.

Easy Maintenance: Luckily, most pillow protectors can be put in the washer and dryer, so they are simple to clean and take care of, too. Cleaning your bedding regularly is essential to keeping it fresh and hygienic.

Versatile and Affordable: You can get a wide array of fabrics and pillow protector designs for a budget-friendly price. While upgrading your bedding, they'll also maximize functionality. One of the easiest ways to increase the quality of your sleep and protect your bedding investment is with pillow protectors.

[the-sleepandbeyond]

Understanding How Organic Cotton Sheets Contribute to a Greener Planet!

In today's eco-conscious environment, every choice people make can greatly impact the environment. From the food to the clothes they wear, sustainability is becoming increasingly central to their decisions. One such sustainable choice that often goes overlooked is the use of organic cotton sheets. Organic cotton production is designed to lessen environmental impact. Unlike conventional cotton, organic cotton is grown without the use of harmful pesticides and synthetic fertilizers, which are notorious for degrading soil quality and contaminating water sources. This method of farming supports biodiversity and soil fertility and significantly reduces water pollution, making organic cotton sheets a responsible choice. Through this article, you will learn how choosing to sleep on organic cotton can contribute to a greener planet, supporting both environmental health and personal well-being. Understanding Why Choose Organic Cotton? The benefits of organic cotton go beyond helping the environment. For people with sensitive skin or allergies, choosing hypoallergenic sheets made from organic cotton is important. These sheets are not treated with harsh chemicals, so they feel softer and are gentler on the skin. Plus, organic cotton farming produces stronger and longer-lasting fibers, which means these sheets will last longer than regular ones, reducing waste and the need to buy new sheets often. The Environmental Effects of Organic Cotton Farming

The environmental benefits of organic cotton farming are significant. By not using synthetic chemicals, organic farming keeps the land healthier. This method also helps save water and lowers the carbon footprint linked to large-scale farming. Also, organic cotton fields produce less carbon dioxide and support a healthier ecosystem, promoting a balance that allows wildlife and helpful insects to flourish. Organic Cotton: Comfort and Sustainability Organic cotton sheets are a great combination of comfort and sustainability. They feel soft on the skin and help create a cleaner and safer environment. As more people choose eco-friendly products, the move towards organic cotton bedding can encourage more farmers to use environmentally friendly methods. This benefits not just consumers but everyone involved in the farming process. Farmers benefit from safer working conditions and healthier soil, which can result in better-quality crops. This creates a sustainable cycle that helps both the environment and the communities that rely on farming. By supporting organic practices, people can help make sure that future generations have clean air, water, and healthy food to enjoy. Supporting Fair Trade Practices Choosing organic sheets supports ethical consumption by promoting fair trade practices. Many organic cotton farms focus on providing fair wages and safe working conditions for their workers, ensuring they are treated with respect and dignity. This approach helps build a sense of community and supports sustainable livelihoods, making organic cotton a great choice for shoppers who care about the environment and social responsibility. Final remarks Choosing organic sheets is a great way to help the planet. By selecting these eco-friendly products, you support sustainable farming, encourage fair treatment of workers, and improve your own comfort. Furthermore, many organic cotton farms focus on providing fair wages and safe working conditions for their workers, making organic cotton a great choice for shoppers and workers. Those looking for an organic brand with a high customer satisfaction rate can consult with firms like Sleep and Beyond. Each sheet is lightweight, smooth, and soft, expertly tailored to provide you with luxurious, deep sleep. Furthermore, the fabric is made with long-staple 100% organic cotton and yarns of the finest quality to satisfy customers.

[tired-biscuit]

18+ MDNI, fem!omega!reader/alpha!kiba // cw: omegaverse, knotting, breeding. established relationship.

↳ you slip into heat at the worst time imaginable; right on kiba’s 30th birthday. as a result, nothing goes according to plan.

“ugh, i’m so sorry.”

you barely recognize the sound of your own voice as you listen to the quiet sigh your boyfriend lets out as soon as he wraps his strong arms around you from behind.

your bedroom is enveloped in darkness despite the fact that it’s summer — a particularly hot one this year — and the alarm clock on your nightstand shows that it’s barely a little past eight in the evening. it’s still light outside, the sky is clear and pretty, but the curtains that frame your window are drawn tight. the only source of light comes in the form of a single orange streak that seeps from the hallway through the crack in the door.

as of right now, it sits on the corner of your pillow that you’re resting your head on, unmoving. judging by the progressing hour, as well as the way faint warmth begins to tickle the top of your head at that very instant, you suppose it won’t take long until the ray settles on your already much too hot cheek as well.

nuzzling your face further into the cotton, crisp white bedding, you can’t help but let your eyes roll in evident dread at the realization. if your current situation is to be taken into any form of consideration, extra heat is the last thing you need right now.

kiba’s weight makes him sink deeper into the mattress when he readjusts on top of the bed you’d spent ages curled up in, trying to find solace all by yourself; that is until he’d shown up.

he had barely stepped foot inside your apartment when the scent of what was going on had hit him square in the face and had led him straight to you. granted, you’d vaguely texted him about it beforehand as to not make him worry too much, whilst also explaining why you couldn’t make it to his birthday dinner, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

and while he’d thought he could handle it as he sat in his car and drove over to your place instead of the restaurant where you were supposed to meet, he’s not so sure that can be the case anymore.

after all, you smell outright intoxicating. it’s so profound and intense, your scent. so sweet that it almost makes his teeth ache. but it’s not just the smell of you that coaxes him to slip into protector mode and start acting on instinct — though it is a key factor here. no, it’s the fact that every single aspect of you in that very moment is designed to lure an alpha like him right in. to lock him into mating.

always known to be a headstrong, self-assured kind of man; one with clear boundaries and a rare ability to make definite choices without any sort of trouble — oftentimes on a whim — kiba finds himself feeling perplexed for the first time in a long while.

to put it simply, he doesn’t know what to do. he’s got his girlfriend, a naked omega in heat, wrapped in his arms. he’s got the most raging boner that he’s ever had in his life twitching and throbbing in his pants, pressing so stubbornly against the zipper that it hurts like a motherfucker. he’s got a sudden wildfire overtaking his senses and fast-crumbling sanity.

but what he doesn’t have is consent.

every inhale he executes now, it’s like he’s turning into a brainless insect at best. you’re pure sugar, fruit dipped in honey, and every thought he has dissipates into nothing because of it. he’s ready to carelessly drown in the nectar if it means you’ll let him devour you whole.

will you, though?

god, never mind that for now; his pushy alpha brain cannot possibly bring itself to think about you refusing him at a crucial time like this. all that matters is that he shows you that he’s ready to help you out, to make it clear as day. your sudden heat has induced a rut from his side and it’s starting to give him a fever as the first signs of it step into the spotlight.

it’s all happening so fast, his pants are already feeling way too tight. there’s a blush creeping up his neck, tinting his ears and cheeks a bright red, and pre-cum is turning his underwear sticky. one second he was fine, albeit slightly worried for your wellbeing. now, he’s horny out of his fucking mind and his dick just won’t stop growing bigger.

so as a result, his shoes now lay discarded in the middle of your bedroom from the way he had hurried to get to you as soon as possible. his keys and phone had practically been tossed to the side on your nightstand, carelessly. the screen sometimes lights up with birthday wishes from friends and family, most of who you’ve already met, but neither of you cares about it in that moment. he’ll type his thank you’s in the morning.

you exhale a breath you’d forgotten you were holding when he brings you closer to his chest, embracing you until your limbs become entangled with his own longer ones and your naked spine touches the buttons of the fancy navy blue button up shirt you’d suggested he put on back when you’d still thought you could endure this entire ordeal that you’re currently suffering through.

his belt buckle is cold. it almost feels like a blessing when it presses against your sizzling hot skin.

“hey,” is all he says.

“oh, god,” you grit out in reply, practically heaving at this point. the amount of saliva that starts to gather on the flat of your tongue the moment your body senses he’s near is ungodly. it’s unnatural, the way you respond to him.

“i know,” he coos softly even if he doesn’t know; he can’t possibly know what it’s like to endure a thing like this. but he tries. “here, lemme… i gotcha, baby. shh.”

a strangled little sound leaves your lips when he holds you still and starts to scent you without even giving it a second thought. to the surprise of both of you, you comply without any sort of fuss as he drags his hands all over your stiff, naked body, effectively easing the overly tense muscle into something a bit more lax and bearable. you don’t even notice how hard you’d been clenching your jaw until he coaxes you into relaxing it with a couple of strokes from his fingers.

slipping into heat completely unprepared can be a pesky little thing for an organized, perfectionist omega like yourself. when you’re so used to leading an independent lifestyle in a society that certainly doesn’t lend you a helping hand with it, and indulge in endless persistance of being in complete control of your body at all times, the occasional flood of hormones that turns you embarrassingly docile is immensely unwelcomed as far as you’re concerned.

yes, blatantly aching to be bred by your alpha’s cock like you’re some bitch in heat is seen as embarrassing in your eyes even if that’s exactly what you are. you believe there’s a lot more to you than just rolling onto your back and acting submissive towards your more dominant partner, thus listening to that wretched primal part of your brain that’s taken center stage inside your skull for now, but at the same time…

it is just so unbelievably hard to fight instinct when he’s right there behind you, with his hips pressed so closely to your own. so hard to ignore and not burn at the way his touch turns noticeably more possessive over the span of a couple of moments of comforting strokes he otherwise gives to your body. so hard to dismiss the way your heartbeats align and your cores reach the exact same temperature.

he even smells invitingly delicious. the rut you’d unintentionally sent him spiralling into had changed the base of his scent in mere minutes. its only aim now is to make him as alluring as possible to you so that you will enable him to mate and reproduce. and he’s not even to blame.

aftershave riddles his otherwise signaturely musky scent; it softens the almost overbearing notes of pure alpha. when he raises his hand to stroke his fingers along your jaw for a second time around, you’re briefly present enough to also catch hints of coconut adorning his tan skin. it’s rich and summery, perfectly him.

he must have used the pricey shower gel you’d bought to surprise him for your anniversary a few months back, because he’s gotten all tidied up for date night that’s now definitely not going to happen because of your ‘condition’, or whatever you want to call it.

either way, it’s the fucking worst. to say that the entire thing is a bust would be an understatement. even the super secret birthday party that you’ve planned for ages had to be rescheduled because of the way how your skin feels like it’s being pulled too tight over your bones, the flames erupting.

i mean, slick is literally dripping out of your soaked pussy like you’re a fucking hose, goddammit. did you really think you’d be suitable for socializing in your current state?

part of it is your own fault, you suppose. ignoring the symptoms and the evident increase in your body temperature that’s been building up over the last few days because you had something to prove was a stupid idea. believing the fact that your sheer will and determination would be able to keep the worst of your heat at bay, without the usage of any sort of suppressants at least until the weekend had passed, had been an even stupider one.

and now you’re stuck paying the consequences.

“i’m sorry,” you feebly parrot the apology that you’re still slightly unsure about if you mean to give to him or yourself. perhaps it’s both. at this point, who knows?

there’s a beat of silence before he whispers, “you’re sorry for what?”

the rasp in his voice pulls you back from your troubled thoughts that just won’t stop whirling around one possible solution to this agony: dick.

have you really stooped so low?

fighting to at least keep your sanity if you can’t keep your pride, you try to focus whilst straining your ears. try to actually listen to him. despite speaking quietly, he sounds almost breathless. like he’s struggling to be in your presence, doing absolutely nothing about the problem at hand.

you should let him do something. better yet, you should let him in.

come on. be a good girl. a good little omega.

let him in.

“for, uh… mmh,” your brow furrows as you try to find the right words you’re looking for. fuck this stupid omega brain of yours, truly. “for ruining your birthday just like i’m ruining your pants right now; gosh, i dunno.”

heat sears your face at the thought of the milky white residue you’ve surely left coating his jeans in copious amounts. instead of keeping you in-check, the image of it only makes you all the more hot and bothered. god help you.

“it’s fine,” he assures you way too fast, swallowing thickly.

the action is audible. listening to it, you can imagine how his adam’s apple bobs with it. up and down, so subtle but just so attractive. his neck appears in your mind’s eye, that sweaty, muscular throat of his, with the vein protruding on the side and— stop it.

“i-it’s not fine! what part of this looks fine to you…?” you groan as you shake your head in disbelief. he’s so close, you just need him so badly. it makes you unable to think straight. “we had plans, for crying out loud!”

“we can take a raincheck.”

“but you’ve just entered your thirties!”

“so?”

“it’s an important number, is it not?”

“babe,” he says, chuckling at your nonsense. “i’ll be in my thirties for a long while. don’t worry about it, seriously.”

“but i’ve got an entire cake meant for like ten people minimum sitting in my fridge.”

“well, if that’s the case,” he mutters, grinning lazily, “i’ll try my hardest to eat the whole thing by the end of the weekend if it’ll make ya feel any better.”

you turn your head to glare at him. “you’re not helping with your silly little jokes, you know.”

he snickers at that and it makes your heart bounce. “oh, i know, all right.”

“it’s just,” you start, sighing. the bridge of your nose scrunches up in annoyance when yet another heatwave washes over you and you suppress the urge to mewl. “this entire thing is so frustrating.”

“mm. tell me ‘bout it,” he says before he runs his broad palm along the column of your neck. your collarbone. the underside of your breast and down your stomach, which trembles at the feeling of the rough callouses that adorn his fingerpads.

the touch only offers more oxygen to the already raging flames that are already licking your entire body. you can’t stifle the small whimper that leaves your lips in response to even more silvery strings of your arousal smearing over the dark denim of his pants almost immediately. it causes a muscle to flutter in his cheek as he looks down and watches how wetter you’re getting by the second.

you’re entirely naked, have gotten rid of your damp, slick-coated panties because your blood feels like it’s boiling under your skin and you just couldn’t handle the heat anymore. he’s completely dressed because he didn’t think you’d actually slip into one while he’s around.

no, he didn’t dare believe it, even if his keen sense of smell did allow him to catch a whiff of a particular kind of sweetness appearing in your scent a long while ago. didn’t dare consider it, even if it did start to invoke some kind of primal, almost aggressive urge to protect what’s his in him.

but the thing is: you aren’t even his to begin with — at least not yet, that is. you refuse to bear his mark, refuse to submit, refuse to be mated even if he’s expressed the wish himself once or twice by now.

so to be entirely fair, it’s no wonder kiba feels surprised to see you acting so disheveled and pliant for him like you are right now. unlike him, you’re always so collected, looking like you have your shit together no matter the situation that’s thrown in your direction. making it look like he’s the one relying on you, instead of you relying on him, despite the roles you both possess.

maybe that’s why he’s so into you. after all, he’s always been one to love a good challenge.

and you’re just that.

furthermore, you’ve become so good at keeping your cool around him that in the last year and a half of being in a relationship together, you’ve even managed to slip out of his grasp whenever the merest hint of your heat had started to come forward. taking suppressants and disappearing off the face of the earth whenever your scent had started gaining attention from nearby alphas, you’ve successfully avoided your boyfriend until the entire thing had passed and you were back to normal, leaving him yearning all the more to see that side of you once and for all.

and whilst we’re on the topic of yearning…

he’s about to go batshit crazy because of it.

“listen to me. i don’t care about the pants, i’ll wash ‘em. and my birthday isn’t ruined,” he mutters as he nuzzles his face into the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “far from it, actually.”

silence hangs in the air for a little while before you finally whisper, “really?”

“really,” he answers in a heartbeat. it’s genuine.

he kisses your neck without warning then, making the nerves near your scent gland buzz with phantom electricity. it’s all warmth and grazing of sharp canines, and the way you arch your back so that you can push your ass further into his crotch in response makes both of your breaths shudder.

he grinds against you, and you react in the same way. drags his tongue along the sweetspot on your neck, and you reach back with your hand so that you can tug on his hair that he’s combed through a million times tonight just for you. you rock against each other like this for a long while, just dry humping, kissing, edging and listening to each other’s shaky breathing.

you’ve become outright slippery between your legs by now, it makes the rubbing of your thighs all the easier even if you want to die from shame because of how obviously horny and out of mind you’re acting during it. moaning and whining, you’re practically trembling by the time his fingers circle your puffy little clit. you feel your hole clenching around nothing in an instant; practically begging you to let him stuff it full already.

he applies steady pressure, the same kind he’s applied so many times before, but it feels different now. you’ve had sex plenty of times during the course of your relationship, even before it had been given an official date, but never during one of your heats. it changes everything. it’s an entirely new playfield that you have yet to explore.

truth be told, you’re shocked. you’ve known him for over two decades, have grown alongside him; drifting apart and reconnecting once or twice, perhaps even three times during your years spent in different high schools and universities, before you’d finally settled on remaining in each other’s lives for good.

you’re supposed to know every inch of both his body and soul by now, but the heat that’s plaguing your mind makes you see him in an entirely different light. it’s like you’re wearing rose-coloured spectacles. you’ve been in love with him before, now you’re obsessed. every breath you take makes the world spin right before your very eyes even though he has just become your world.

and that world slows down, now, all sound is drowned out by your rapid pulse that beats inside your ears as he quickens his touch on your almost painfully sensitive button of nerves. your cunt is so warm, soft, sticky. he can barely keep it together from how badly he wants to pound it already.

“k-kiba,” you stutter his name and suppress the urge to cringe at yourself. anger and overwhelming lust make your toes curl.

“look at how wet you are, pretty,” he utters softly, sounding so baffled and in awe by it at the same time that it’s almost funny. and sure enough, when he raises his hand from the apex of your thighs and holds it right in front of your face, his fingers are practically glimmering with your slick.

you’re quick to avert your eyes from the sight.

“well, you’re really fucking hard, okay?” you attempt to quip back but fail outrageously. it’s supposed to be a jab, your statement, but the high pitch that appears in your voice now exhibits pure, relentless need instead. even your hips are wiggling by their own accord and you hate yourself for allowing it, but you just can’t help it. it’s all instinct.

“fuck yeah i am. i mean, how couldn’t i be hard when you—” he grunts mid-sentence and you swear there’s a certain kind of edge to it; like a growl that thunders somewhere deep within his chest. every exhale tickles your throat as he pants — it cools the sweat that sticks to your skin in a layer so thick that it makes you shiver. “when you smell so fuckin’ good; so sweet?”

your scents meld as you writhe against each other, it makes you tip your head back and gasp from how good it is to inhale into your lungs. at this point, your brain is screaming at you to let him in, to let him do whatever he wants if it means he’ll stuff you full and knock you up by the end of it.

you can’t take it anymore.

you want, no, you need to feel the heated stretch of your alpha’s cock. need to be mounted. to be turned over then so that you can look at his face as he manhandles you into the tightest mating press known to man, and to feel his sharp teeth at long last sink into the sensitive scent gland on your neck, marking you as his before he lets you do the same to him. to let him use you as his cocksleeve the moment you become his mate, his hands gripping your hips so hard during every thrust that you’re bruising at the curves, but it just feels too good to notice the pain to accompany it.

you want your sloppy cunt squelching and gushing slick around him until he can feel his balls tighten and he cums and spills his load so deep into you that it goes straight to your goddamn womb. want to watch him keep every single drop from spilling with the help of his knot that you want him to push into you at some point, too. want his sweaty forehead pressing against your own as he fucking plugs you and sucks in deep, ragged breaths, whispering how he’s just put so many pups inside you that you’ll have to start thinking about moving house.

and afterwards, you want soft, warm kisses instead of messy, sloppy ones. you want the faintest taste of your blood on his tongue intermingling with his own iron. want him looking so big as he holds himself steady above you; your legs still wrapped around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back. want him calling you his mate for the first time ever because he’s finally able to do so. and well… you want yourself whispering the same.

you want all of that.

“kiba, i need you to take care of me,” you whisper, turning around to face him. your body is aching for him by now, the scent and closeness only make your desire worsen. you’re turning light-headed with want and it makes you wrap your twitchy hands around his bicep and tug on his sleeve as you try to pull him forward so that he can top you as soon as possible. you’re clinging onto him for dear life, throwing yourself at him even if you’d said you’d never. “need you to make me yours, ‘kay? right here, right now. please.”

“yeah,” he mumbles, clearly dazed. his body moves so quick, it’s pure thrill. “yeah, of course, baby. anything you want.”

poor man, he’s been waiting for all this time just to hear you say the words.

the quiet clink of his belt buckle becoming undone causes a shiver to rush down your spine. it sends you into a frenzy.

“please. oh, god, please, please,” you repeat your pleas, choking back a sob as he pushes you onto your stomach. the weight of him that settles above you is so comforting, it only causes more hot tears to well up inside your eyes. “it hurts so bad, it feels like i’m fucking dying.”

“i’m here,” he says, and his touch feels like you’re being stroked with embers when he grips you by the hips and makes you push your ass higher into the air. he can’t control the strength he possesses anymore, the manhandling has already begun even if he’s trying so hard to remain gentle. “i’ll take care of ya. i promise, sweetheart.”

who would have thought he’d get a mate for his birthday?

[mentatemulator]

An Affliction

A short story (about 5 pages) about a princess with certain needs. Contains explicit sex. Lesbian sex. Trans lesbian sex. Enjoy!

~

The princess squirmed against the luxuriously cushioned mattress, sighed long and slow. She turned her head to bury her face in goose-down pillows. Satin sheets framed her soft, pudgy body as her fingers worked faster and faster between her legs. Her knight had been so brave today, so very, very strong...

She arched her back, reaching for release, held there a long moment... and then collapsed back onto the bed with an unsatisfied growl. Nothing was working. No matter how much she held the image of Ser Wilhelmina Fallia's striking figure in her mind, remembering the feel of her lady knight's arm around her body, the firm muscles that must be flexing beneath her gambeson... She shivered again at the memory, but somehow it just wasn't enough.

She pulled the sheets up above her face and kicked her legs in frustration. She wanted to scream. The gods must surely hate her, for cursing her with such a shy orgasm. She wanted more than her own fingers, she wanted to stop imagining her knight taking her roughly by the hips, and actually...

Well, she was a princess, wasn't she? Why shouldn't she have what she wanted? She levered herself out of bed and straightened her nightgown, making sure there were no obvious wet spots down the front. She marched over to her chamber doors, and cracked them open wide enough to see one of her guards standing outside.

“You there!”

The man jumped slightly, and spun to face her, “Yes, your Highness?”

“Fetch me Ser Fallia, I desire an audience with my knight.”

“Right away, your Highness.” He looked flustered, slightly baffled. But he immediately set off to do as she asked. The princess closed the door again.

She smirked, congratulating herself on her brilliance. And then her heart began to flutter as the panic set in. Oh gods, what was she doing? What if her knight wasn't interested? What if she hated her after tonight? What if father found out, he'd surely send Wilhelmina away...

She paced around her chambers as she catastrophized, chewing on her thumbnail. She passed by her mirror, and stopped. Her hair was an absolute mess. She took up a brush and began to disentangle her long blonde locks. She had to look presentable for Ser Fallia, after all, and the process helped to calm her down.

There came a knock at the door. The princess jolted, causing the brush to catch painfully on a knot. She hissed as a familiar voice sounded from outside.

“Your Highness, I am here. You called for me?”

The princess hurriedly put the brush down and came to the door, letting out a long, controlled breath before pulling it open.

“Ser Fallia. Yes. Come in.” She looked to the guards flanking the door, “My knight is with me, you may be relieved.”

One of them, perhaps the one who she had sent scrambling for Ser Fallia, looked at her quizzically, “Highness? Are you certain?”

“Quite certain!” she shot back with just the right amount of royal indignation, “Now begone with you!”

The guards marched away as she opened the door wider, letting her knight enter. She looked her faithful protector up and down. Her knight wore only a sage green tunic, embroidered with ornate orange stitching, a simple belt of black leather, and black cotton trousers over leather shoes. All fine garments, but clearly thrown on hastily at the princess' summons. Her short, auburn hair was wet. She must have been bathing. The princess felt a pang of disappointment that her knight wouldn't still be covered in the scent of her own sweat.

Ser Fallia shifted uncertainly, hands at her side, “Um, how may I serve you, Highness?”

“Ser Wilhelmina Fallia,” the princess took on her most authoritative tone, “my loyal lady knight. You are to... er, that is...” A blush crept onto the princess's face. How indeed to phrase it. She cleared her throat, “Your princess requires, ah, that you... You see, I have been b-beset by a... an affliction!”

“An affliction, Highness?” Wilhelmina looked concerned.

“Y-yes, an affliction! A wretched itching that I cannot... s-satisfy.”

“Shall I fetch the royal physician, Highn-”

“No! No, that will not be necessary. I merely require the... the use of your body.” She could not look Wilhelmina in the eye as she said it. Realization crept slowly onto the knight's face.

“Oh!” Wilhelmina's ears turned red.

“Yes, qu-quite,” the princess stammered out, “Now, disrobe.”

“Your Highness...” Wilhelmina sounded apprehensive.

“Yes?”

“For someone of my station, and someone of your station, to, ah...”

“Never you mind!” the princess sounded defensive.

“But should your father learn of-” the knight persisted.

“My father has nothing to do with it!” the princess shot back, “You are my personal knight, and I shall do with you as I please!” She paused a beat, looked slightly chagrined, “That is, if it would also please my knight.”

Wilhelmina cleared her throat, playing for time. “It would... please me, yes your Highness, but-”

“Then disrobe, as I have ordered!”

“Er... yes, your Highness.”

Wilhelmina started to fumble with her belt, then looked back to the princess.

“Are you... quite certain that this is, um, acceptable, your Highness?”

“I am your princess!,” she declared shrilly, “If I say it is acceptable, then it is!”

“Of course, Highness,” Wilhelmina hurried herself, to placate the young royal. Her belt came undone, and she held it awkwardly, looking for a place to set it down. The princess offered no word on the matter, and Wilhelmina settled with the floor. She began to lift her tunic up over her head, and the princess bit her lip as fabric gave way to flesh. She stared hard at her knight's tight stomach, the faint patch of hair leading down from her navel, the low mounds of her breasts, shadows stark in the candlelight. Her expression must have been depraved.

“Shall I continue, Highness?”

“What?” the princess was shaken from her reverie, “Yes! All of it, off now!”

The princess hurriedly shuffled over to her bed and sat at its edge while Wilhelmina stepped out of her boots. The knight hesitated with her thumbs inside the waist of her trousers. She looked at the princess. The princess' hands were balled into tight fists atop her knees, while her legs kicked excitedly off the side of the bed. The trousers came down. The princess stared.

Wilhelmina's legs were long, and well muscled. Slightly hairier than the princess had been expecting, her only frame of reference being her own nigh-invisible leg hair. She let her eyes drift up, and up to... was it meant to be that small? She hadn't ever seen one before, but her reading had led her to believe it would be more... Well, it hardly mattered. Her knight's entire body was rapturous to behold. Wilhelmina looked like she wanted to cover herself with her hands, but restrained herself so that the princess could see whatever she pleased.

“Come here,” the princess said hoarsely. Wilhelmina obediently strode toward her, feet padding silently on the thick rug. She stopped at a respectful distance, but the princess was not content. “Here! Let me t-,” she gulped, “touch you.”

“As you wish, Highness.” Wilhelmina closed the final gap, stood with her legs nearly touching the princess' knees. The princess reached a hand out, paused with it in the air, and then finally laid it on Wilhelmina's stomach. The knight shivered beneath the touch.

The princess gave an absurd little giggle, unable to contain her glee. She ran her hand up and down her knight's midriff, delighting in the feel of it, the warmth beneath her palm.

“Closer!” she said excitedly. Wilhelmina stepped forward, stood between the princess' legs, the smaller woman's head barely level with her chest.

The princess' other hand came up to join the first, and she excitedly went about mapping every inch of the knight that she could reach. Her fingertips played across Wilhelmina's nipples, stiff despite the warmth of the royal chambers. Her palms slid across the knight's hips, fingers squeezing gently at her firm thighs, before reaching back to feel the curve of her ass.

Wilhelmina felt a stirring in her loins, and tried her damnedest to suppress it. She dug her fingernails into her own palms, bit down on her tongue. But the princess' exploratory touch, the way she so earnestly wanted to feel out every part of her...

“O-oh!” the princess squeaked, “Oh my...”

“A thousand apologies, your Highness, I did not mean t- hahh!” Pleasure shot up Wilhelmina's spine as the princess' hand closed around her erect cock.

“Your apology is unnecessary,” the princess said haughtily, “I see the books were truthful after all...”

“What was that, Highness?”

“Nothing! Now, erm...” the princess hesitated, “I should... ah, like this?” Her hand moved slowly up and down Wilhelmina's shaft. “This is pleasurable, is it not?”

“Y-yes, your Highness.”

“Excellent,” the princess seemed mightily pleased with herself, “As it should be.” She continued her awkward stroking, enamored by the feel of her knight's cock in her grip, pushing back into the thicket of dark, curly hairs, watching the head poke out from beneath its cowl, and then forward again, curving gently upward. Her own nethers fairly ached with the thought of having it pushed into her, throbbing and eager.

She looked up at Wilhelmina's face. Her knight was diligently looking straight ahead, mouth parted, taking long, measured breaths. The princess frowned. Why was she, a princess, servicing her knight thusly? This was all backwards. She had become confused, that was all. Because of how new it all was. Certainly not because touching Ser Fallia's body made her heart pound. It was time to correct this uncouth reversal.

“Ser Fallia,” the princess said in a voice she reserved for impertinent servants, “I command you to... to fuck me.” The word felt unclean on her tongue, crude and unfit for the mouth of a royal heir. It was exhilarating.

Wilhelmina looked actually scared for the first time. There was no undoing this if she complied. But an order from her princess could not go unheeded.

“Highness, are you truly certain you want this?”

The princess flopped back onto the satin sheets, arms out, somehow still appearing haughty and annoyed.

“Of course I am certain! You are going to fuck me, because your princess has needs that are not being met,” she huffed, “And! You shall call me Sophia while you do so.”

Wilhelmina supposed it could not be helped at this point.

“As you wish, Sophia.”

The princess felt a little jolt of excitement at being called her given name. Nobody outside of her family ever did that. Ser Fallia said it in the same formal, reverent way she said 'Highness,' but it was something. She was leaning down, hands to either side of Sophia's shoulders.

“May I caress you, Sophia?”

“If you must.”

One rough hand touched her shoulder, hesitant. When she did not protest, it moved along her collarbone, the touch electrifying even through her nightgown. The hand drifted down, cupped one ample breast. Sophia began to breathe faster, staring up into Wilhelmina's face. Her knight was looking down at her curves, straining against delicate fabric. The wandering hand crossed her belly, found its way to her thigh, and the hem of the nightgown.

Wilhelmina took the hem in her fingers and looked up to Sophia for permission, who nodded, her face beet red. She lifted the nightgown up gingerly over the swell of Sophia's belly, up past her chest, and put her hand down between her legs.

Sophia gasped, and her legs tightened around Wilhelmina's. Her knight was using one finger to caress the lips of her slit, already nigh soaked in anticipation. It slipped easily inside.

“S-s-ser Fallia!” the princess exclaimed in a shaky voice, “I commanded you to take me carnally, not to, to, to... to toy with me!”

“Forgive me, Highness- Sophia. There's a method to these things.” Her finger continued to explore, and Sophia squirmed under her. “I must be sure that you're, ah, prepared to receive me.”

“V-very well, I shall pardon you this time!” Sophia's voice broke as Wilhelmina found what she was looking for. “Gods, uh, so long as you keep doing that.”

The knight slipped in a second finger and went to work, starting slow, getting faster and faster, until Sophia was panting and shaking, her inner thighs slick with her own fluids. The princess' hands had gripped the sheets, knuckles white with the effort. Wilhelmina slowed to a stop and withdrew her hand, which felt like it was about to cramp.

“Why did you...” Sophia husked.

“You're ready now, sweet Sophia.” She no longer said the princess' name in the manner of a title, but as one might whisper in the ear of a lover.

“I was ready from the start,” the princess whined, trying to regain some of her regal bearing, “But you have been insolent, and deprived me of my desire.”

Wilhelmina couldn't help but smile.

“Then I shall give it to you now, Princess.”

“Very good, that is how a loyal vassal should... should... gods above.”

Wilhelmina had lined the head of her cock up to Sophia's pussy, and was dragging it up and down, up and down, making sure it was nice and wet. Finally, she pushed it in. Sophia took in a sharp breath, and began to tremble. More and more of her knight's cock was coming inside of her, and every inch felt like it must be the last, but there was somehow more. At last she felt Wilhelmina's pelvis meet with hers, and the knight groaned in the back of her throat.

Wilhelmina held there for a long moment, feeling Sophia tense around her shaft experimentally. She intended to start slow, but the moment she began to pull back, she was filled with the urge to plow Sophia as hard as she could. She looked into Sophia's eyes, saw there the same burning need. This was her princess, the woman she had sworn her life to, the beautiful girl she had saved from death or imprisonment more than once. If her princess was so grateful as to take her knight to bed, then she deserved to have a night that she would always remember.

Wilhelmina grabbed Sophia by the hips, dug her fingers in hard, and gave her princess a proper fucking. Sophia cried out in shock, then in delirious pleasure. Her knight made the entire bed shake with the force of her passion.

“Ser Fallia,” the princess moaned.

“Yes, Princess?”

“Wilhelmina...”

“Yes, Sophia?” the knight's voice was strained with the effort of keeping rhythm.

“I- hah, gods, I think I love you.”

Wilhelmina was keenly aware that this was an infatuation that could never be allowed to grow into more. The morning would surely bring the young royal clarity. But for tonight, she would give her princess what she wanted, as she always had.

“And I love you, Sophia.”

Sophia raised her arms up to Wilhelmina's shoulders, and weakly held on as best she could. With every thrust of her knight's hips, her entire body quaked, tits and belly alike set to bouncing. Wilhelmina thought in that moment that she had never seen anything quite so beautiful. She leaned in close, and pressed her lips to the princess' throat.

“I-I did not give you leave t-to kiss me!”

“Forgive me, Sophia,” she raised her head to look the princess in the eyes, still rutting into her hard. “Might I have the honor of kissing your Highness?”

“You may.”

Their lips met, and Sophia buried the fingers of one hand in Wilhelmina's hair. She felt like she was coming undone, her body barely under her control, shaking as something surged between her legs, and rose up from her throat as one. A scream of ecstasy, muffled against Wilhelmina's intruding tongue, as muscles tensed hard within her. Her fingernails dug into her knight's shoulder as she came harder than she had ever managed alone.

Wilhelmina broke the kiss as Sophia squeezed down on her, so close to her own release, balls slapping against the chubby girl's generous ass. She grabbed one of Sophia's ample tits and growled like a common beast.

“Fucking hells, Sophia. You're too beautiful. Let me pull away, so I can finish.”

“No, don't you dare!” Sophia tried to grasp at Wilhelmina harder, but couldn't actually muster any strength. But she did her best to wrap her legs around Wilhelmina's backside.

“Princess, I can't...” she could easily disentangle herself if she forced the matter, Sophia was too weak to stop her. But...

“You can. I command it. I'm your princess, and you will give me your seed if I desire it!”

“Gods, Sophiaaaa...” Wilhelmina pushed in as deep as she could and held there, legs tensing, balls contracting, as her seed pulsed into Sophia's pussy. She moaned wordlessly, fingers digging painfully into Sophia's hip and breast. The princess gave a small squeal, but didn't object.

The room became quiet, except for the sound of their breathing, Sophia taking fast, shallow breaths, and Wilhelmina heaving great gasps of air. Her cock twitched a final time.

“Princess,” Wilhelmina said breathlessly, “Sophia. Might I be allowed to, uh, withdraw?”

“Yes, my knight,” Sophia let her legs drop down, “You have well pleased me.”

“I am glad to hear it.” Wilhelmina pulled herself out from betwixt the princess' legs, both of them shuddering as the head of her cock finally popped free.

“I, uh...” there were necessities that now must be reckoned with, but Wilhelmina wasn't entirely sure how to broach them, “Your Highness, this was all quite dangerous.” Sophia glared. “Most enjoyable, to be sure! However...” Wilhelmina glanced down at the princess' pussy, where a bit of her seed was slowly dripping out, destined for the expensive sheets. “I must needs make a visit to the apothecary. So that we can ensure nothing, uh, comes of this meeting.”

The princess seemed almost startled, as if she had not considered this before.

“Oh, yes, that is... good, yes. Do so.”

“I will use the utmost discretion, your Highness.”

“I have every faith in you, Ser Fallia.”

“Thank you, Highness.”

As Wilhelmina dressed herself, and Sophia watched lustfully from the bed, she thought about the guards who had seen her enter the royal chambers this night. If the apothecary were ever to be indiscreet, and word should reach those men... She would have to make sure he was well paid for his service, and pray that this would have no lasting repercussions. For either of them.

“Ser Fallia,” Sophia said in her most innocent voice, just as the knight was about to leave, “I do hope that... well, that is...” she cleared her throat and spoke more authoritatively, “I may have need of your service again. Soon. I shall call on you.”

Wilhelmina's throat went very dry.

“As you wish, Highness.”

[foldingfittedsheets]

If you’ll allow another mattress question

I sweat so heavily in my sleep. Despite my best efforts, it’s soaking into the starter mattress I got a few years ago. I feel like it’s too late for this one, but what should I keep in mind with my next one?

There's two types of cooling in a bed, active cooling, and passive cooling. Passive cooling is found in most mid-range beds and is stuff like ventilated foams and breathable materials. Active cooling is stuff like phase change materials and some gel- these things will actively change based on the temperature around them to help regulate. If you're a sleeping hot in a big way, look at active cooling for the new bed.

And basically every layer you add makes a difference. Basic mattress protectors keep the bed clean but fancy ones have cooling elements in them. Pillows can trap heat or keep you Super Cool depending on the pillow like Technogel has a freaking epic cooling pillow, really love that one.

Your sheets are also a big factor. Thread count in a single ply can't go much about 500, so when sheets are like 1000 thread count it's multiple plys woven together when tends to trap heat more. So eygptian cotton or bamboo sheets can stop heat from building up in a bad way much more easily. I love DreamFit but I know there's spendy and there's tons of good options those are just the ones I love.

You don't have to splurge and get every cooling element all at once but you can build up some of the sleep environment stuff to be more cooling while waiting for a cooler bed.

[lanitaminaj]

once upon a dream

a strange man, or an entity, finds itself plastered on your wall. toji, you begin to learn, finds himself intertwined within your life. inspired by this post.

cw; female reader, sexual themes, cussing, mentions of suicide, mentions of death, paranormal, horror.

he simply stared, unmoving nor unblinking as he observed you. 

you gazed back, your doe-eyes large and your babydoll-lips parted as they took in the entity etched on your lavender-purple bedroom wall. 

"are you going to hurt me?" you rasped, your voice low as you kept your sleeping parents next door in mind. 

he just smirked; the left corner of his lengthy, scarred lips were pulled mockingly upward.

"are you going to kill me in my sleep?" you whispered, your eyelids heavy as a tiny yawn escaped your plush lips. 

his chest bounced, as if he was laughing in a tone impossible for your human ears to gather. 

"okay," you shrugged, wrapping the pearl-white, cotton-soft blanket up to your shoulders. 

he was merely composed of a head and a chest; composed of raven-black, messy tresses. his eyes were almond-shaped, their sunken composure indulged in your form as if you were prey. all you could make out beneath his thick, veiny neck was a set of toughened, herculean shoulders. even covered by the hellish-cloud of ink, you could make out every inch and bulge of inhuman brawn. 

"what are you?" you questioned, your body comfortably entangled within the fluffy fabric. you knew he was outworldly, yet you couldn’t discern from where he’d come from. was he your guardian angel? a spiritual protector sent to guard you as you dreamt? or was he demonic, an impish spirit serving as a reminder of the sins living within you?

he, unsurprisingly, refrained from responding. his smirk dropped, yet his nightshade-eyes remained draped on you.

“fine,” you huffed, before you allowed exhaustion to envelop your resting form. Your feather-stuffed pillows molded themselves to accommodate the shape of your head, the baby-powder scent seducing you into succumbing to a peaceful slumber.

wordlessly, you blinked your eyes twice at the strange, ghastly man on your wall, before the world around you became pitch-black. 

-

there was a little bunny that often paraded around in the emerald-green grass of your backyard. some mid-days, when your parents were off at work, you would gather some baby carrots from the refrigerator and feed the little creature. it was a cute thing, you decided, with its long, floppy ears and fur which copied the pattern of cowskin. the only difference was that the darker patterns were a light, caramel-brown rather than a deep, mocha-brown. 

the soft baby chewed happily, a soft coo escaping your lips as its rosy-pink nose twitched happily. 

the little bunny was an adorable distraction from the source of your recent frustration: the demon in your wall. 

you’ve tried for weeks to try and communicate. on your side, you’ve provided a multitude of prompts to ask him. 

“where’re you from?” was one. “what’s your name? why’re you in my room?” were others. 

of course, there’d been a lack of answers from the demon, causing you to angrily cease your one-sided conversations. 

you’d even gone as far as to script a lengthy paper to him, leaving it on the cedar-wood surface of your dresser one night for him to read. when you’d awoken, however, you discovered the letter to be ripped up and discarded messily on your oak-wood floor. 

how rude. 

your parents had been gone; your father was harvesting bee-honey while your mother attended to her floral shop. 

you picked up the little bunny, holding its bustling form close to your warm chest. a light breeze whispered around you, an indignation of the twilight-purple evening sky’s soon arrival. 

your bare feet kissed the blades of the clover-green grass, ignoring how the sharp tips provoked slight pain as you stepped. you trekked through the vanilla-white door of the baby-blue painted cottage, the wood underneath you groaning as you inched closer and closer to your lavender-lilac room. 

your bedsheets had been in a disarray; all messy with the indent of your body pressed into them. your single window had been cranked open, the smell of ivory and pine-trees surrounded your room. your cotton, white blanket reminded you of the clouds you’d seen that morning. the bubblegum-pink tulip on your dresser was dying.

“there you go,” you softly cooed, gently setting the shaking bunny on your cloudy comforter. it settled in quite nicely, its little nose nuzzling the comforting texture and smell of your bed.

you peered at your wall. he wasn’t there. 

a timid grumbling caught your attention.

your eyes widened, your ears focusing on the rumbling occurring again. it didn’t take you long to realize the bunny’s stomach had been thundering, its doll-eyes peering up at you pleadingly.

“hungry?” you questioned it, as if the furry creature could truly understand your human words. it appears that it could, however, its whiskers twitching in response.

“okay,” you nodded, your legs setting for the kitchen. “wait here,” you commanded. “i’ll find you some food.”

there hadn’t been much, honestly. your mother’s produce jars had been empty, the only evidence of there ever being fruits were the royal-blue blueberry and scarlet-red raspberry juices that lined the glasses. you had honey-baked bread, but you weren’t sure if bunnies could eat loaves. a jug of lamb’s milk sat tranquilly in the refrigerator, but you figured it’ll make the tiny creature sick. 

suddenly, you remembered the strawberries that your father had been planting. sauntering out the door once more, you set forth to the patch that grew quietly near your home.

like a christmas tree, the bush stood soldierly while the blooming strawberries served as ornaments. 

you picked gingerly from it, making sure to pick generously in fear of your father being upset. 

somewhat alone, the wind’s embrace and the soft singing of the mockingjays accompanied you as you slipped into a daze.

you thought of your parents, how often tired, yet content, they seemed with their lives. your mother’s serene smile was a sight you adored, while your nose regularly basked in your father’s constant scent of honey. you thought of your little world, how you indulged in simple pleasures such as reading jane austen and producing grains of your own poetry. the other townies often depict these simple pleasures as boring, yet there was some comfort gained in you as you embraced your creative side. 

there wasn’t much time left to indulge in your deepest thoughts, of course, as you remembered the little bunny that laid hungry in your bed. swiftly, you gathered the harvested strawberries as you set off for your home, the tranquil little cottage soft in your honeyed-eyes. 

you trampled through the door, a whistle on your lips as you chopped up the strawberries in a tiny, heart-shaped ceramic plate. it was a ruby-red shade, messily painted with strawberry and tomato juice from when you were seven-years-old. 

“bunny,” you called, your voice sweet and high like a hummingbird’s song. the bunny refrained from trotting to the kitchen, its soft paws against the wooden-floor abstained from entering your ears. you turned towards your bedroom door, the pearl-white hatch suddenly closed and foreboding. you couldn’t remember if you sealed it before you slipped out, yet you disregarded it as an unimportant thought compared to the direness at hand. 

“bunny?” you called once more, crouching slowly towards your bedroom with the heart-shaped plate in your left hand. the door ahead of you was coated with hand-painted lavender and pink tulips that scattered beautifully against the colorlessness of the canvas. the sky behind you had turned into a hue of tangerine-orange and violet-purple. 

the door creaked as you pushed it open. the plate in your hand thunderously shattered as it dropped in shards against your bedroom floor. 

near the lavender wall, where the entity lived, laid your little bunny. 

a sob emerged from your throat. your beloved bunny rested in the hands of the entity, the furry creature coated in blood as the wall’s ghost ate from it. when it was done, it simply tossed the slain bunny on the ground, a squelch sound made as it dropped in its scarlet-red bloody pool.

you submerged the urge to vomit, yet couldn’t fight the urge to pass out.

-

a coral-pink bowl of tomato-soup laid carefully against the palms of your slightly-shaking hands. 

you observed the entity, the inhuman-man licking the bunny’s blood that had coated on his fingers. 

you hadn’t quite noticed it, but the entity was growing.

he grew arms, the muscles bulging and long. his hands were just as big, with veins coating throughout the flesh. or, form? you wondered if his veins contained blood, or if they were like plant vines. you imagined it was the latter. after the events from earlier, you were convinced that this thing was surely subhuman. 

and yet, you couldn’t halt yourself from showing some form of sympathy for it. “i didn’t know you were hungry,” you grumbled, your eyes darting down as you simultaneously spooned your soup. you weren’t very hungry; your appetite had been satiated for at least a week. “i would’ve gotten you something had you just told me.”

he simply stared, his sharp-eyes trained on your smaller form as he sucked. you could feel the little smirk that rested on his bloodied lips. barbaric, you couldn’t help but think. your thoughts translated on your face, a subconscious snarl present on your angry lips. 

“you’re evil,” you choked out, placing the soup-bowl on your pearl-white nightstand. “i’m not speaking to you anymore.”

you tucked yourself into bed, your pillowy-sheets brought up to your warm face. you could imagine that the entity was simply staring at you, that nonchalant expression on his face as if he couldn’t care less about eating your precious baby bunny. you tried your best to block out any thoughts of today’s events, your subconscious allowing your mind to dream of pleasant things such as your mother’s cherry-lime pie and your father’s lullabies from your childhood.

within a few minutes, you succumbed to sleep.

-

by the time you woke up the next morning, you feigned surprise at the entity not being plastered on your wall. good, you thought. yet, there was some wicked pulse in your heart that ached at the usual disappearance of the ghost.

your legs carried you out of bed, your yawning self delighted at the sight of your mother and father eating and chatting blissfully at the kitchen table.

“good morning, honey,” your mother greeted, her lips planting a small kiss on your rosy-pink cheeks. your father squeezed your arm. 

“honey,” his resonant voice boomed. “i think my strawberries have bloomed, can you pluck them?”

your back fought the urge to straighten itself rigid, your voice fighting the urge to say “i’ve actually plucked some yesterday”. 

you complied, however, like the good daughter you were. “i’ll go get them,” you beamed, grabbing the woven-basket near the front door before you set off for the meadows. 

it wasn’t anything peculiar. you merely picked the remaining berries, placed them in your basket, and set off back home. you arrived back to your parents on the porch, their tanned fingers wrapped around mason jars filled with what appeared to be peach-tea. 

“honey,” your mother sang your childhood nickname. “set the basket down in the kitchen. we left a glass on the counter for you.”

“thanks, mama,” you thanked, your steps echoing as you entered the tiny kitchen. you sat the basket down, yet something peculiar occurred. a thumping sound emerged, a noise consistent and erratic as it bounced frighteningly on what you determined to be on hardwood-flooring. you listened intently, before you realized the sound was coming from your own bedroom. 

your skin suddenly felt very cold. 

your crept towards your room, your heart pumping as your hand pushed gently against your colorful door. you swore your heart fought not to stop as the door creaked eerily.

the thumping stopped once you entered your room. you froze, your mind racing with a multitude of thoughts at once. oh god, you cried to yourself. perhaps i’m losing my mind. it wouldn’t be a possibility too far fetched. after all, what sane person sees a ghost in their wall?

but then, there it was. a bunny emerged from under your bed, the thumps it created verified that it was the source of the anxious noises produced. you sighed, but then you realized under sudden inspection that this wasn’t just any bunny. its long, floppy ears; its caramel-brown cowskin patterns.

this was your bunny. 

“what,” you breathed to yourself, its pink nose wobbling as it inched closer to you. you couldn’t believe it; your little bunny had been brought back to life?

you bent down to scratch the beloved creature behind its ears, but gasped as it disappeared underneath your touch. within a heartbeat, it was gone once more. 

you choked back a sob. 

“no,” you huffed, your throat tightening and your heart broken. “no, my bunny.”

a tear slid down your cheek, before something in the corner of your eyes caught your attention. you turned your head, your eyes widening in pure surprise. 

there, on your wall, decorated with black-gunk, purple-ink and burgundy-blood, was a simple appellation. 

toji.

-

when you first started seeing choso, you refrained from bringing him home for select reasons. 

for one, you didn’t want your parents to flock and coo around him like doves. for two, you didn’t want him to be frightened by the man in your wall.

toji, you discovered, had gotten stronger as the days progressed. the wall carved out indentations of his thighs, the tendons within them muscular and large. similar to his arms, you noted. 

you additionally noticed how jealous he’d get, for reasons you didn’t quite know.

during late nights, when your parents were whisked away by either deep sleep or work duties, you found yourself gushing over choso to the shadow man. 

“he’s a gentleman,” you blushed, your fingers toying with the loose fabrics on your comforter. “he sometimes doesn’t have much to say, but he’ll bring me little flowers here and there. specifically baby’s breath cause they’re my favorite. i’m surprised he remembered i told him that the one time i did.”

toji kept that common smirk on his ghastly face, yet his features often altered when he heard you speak about choso. for one, his eyes switched. a fire ignited in them, a violet-purple glint in them that never went unnoticed. his eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, with his nose flaring ever so slightly. 

there was one day you were enthused over choso so bad that it caused toji to completely disappear for three nights, only to smugly reemerge as you pathetically called his name in the dead of night. you’ve received the message, of course. you’ve refrained from raving to toji about your date after those nights. 

tonight, however, you’ve gotten the home to yourself. your parents had been flocked away to attend to some dire work obligations, their presence not revered as that meant you were able to bring choso in. you’ve forgotten about one presence, however, too blissed out to remember.

you ransacked your parents’ liquor cabinet, your fingers pulling out a bottle of jack daniel’s tennessee honey whiskey. your father’s favorite.

it was disgusting, of course, your lips pressing bitterly into each other as you took little shots of it. you were never a huge alcohol enthusiast, but you read somewhere that it was an aphrodisiac. from the way a sudden warmth blossomed between your thighs coupled with the way you could feel your tits hardening underneath your white-sundress, you knew the effects were taking place. with choso’s low-eyes and his palm practically caressing your bare calf, you could tell that the alcohol was affecting him as well.

“you’re beautiful,” he uttered above the soft voices of ella fitzgerald and louis armstrong singing ‘the nearness of you’ on the living room’s mahogany-wooden vinyl player.

“thank you,” you breathed before the sudden liquid courage got a hold of you. you got a hold of his hand, guiding it so that it reached the inner warmth of your thighs.

“do you wanna?” you asked sweetly, your cunt dampening as you heard choso rasp out a soft little ‘fuck’. 

“we’re all alone, right?” choso asked, to which you gently nodded your response. “no interruptions?”

“no interruptions,” you promised, before letting yourself be whisked away to your bedroom with your date in tow. 

-

he was so muscular; a fact you didn’t know as his body was constantly concealed underneath the robes and baggier fabrics that he donned. his buffed chest rubbed consistently against your softer breasts, causing them to swell underneath his touch. melodic moans and gasps escaped from your lips, your eyes pressed shut from intense ecstasy and pleasure. his cock, god. his cock was veiny and thick; your lips had previously been wrapped around his salmon-pink dick as it began to rise in your throat. currently, it was being punched routinely in-and-out of your tight, soaked cunt. your nails dug into the man’s pale-back, the ruby-red scratches contrasted beautifully against his canvas-like skin. 

it was all too much; you didn’t know if you’d be able to withstand how his cock was fucking you deeply and roughly as he breathed heavily in your ear. 

“yeah, you like that?” you could hear his heavenly, sexed-out voice question you. the boldness and confidence in his words caused your blissful eyes to open-up slightly, before they immediately bolted-open in shock. 

just a few centimeters from your face had been choso’s own, yet something had changed in his eyes. 

they glew a violet-purple hue. right there, just below his sweating nose, was his mouth; his lips were pressed into a familiar, hunting smirk. 

you could’ve died right there, but you would’ve found it absolutely humiliating for your tombstone to read; death by bomb-ass-dick. 

“yeah,” choso’s voice questioned once more, yet your heart thumped at you in both nirvana and in warning. was this truly choso? “you love this dick, don’t you?” he spoke, causing you to subconsciously moan in response. “love how your cunt squeezes on it, huh?”

“yes,” you nonetheless answer, too fucked out to ponder anything less in the moment. “love this dick.”

“love how it makes you go dumb, don’t you?” choso’s voice began to transform into something unfamiliar. the base in his voice lightened, yet changed its tone to that of something more cocksure. a voice you would later be able to put a face to. 

“choso,” you whined, an action that erupted voluminous noises to pass out your mouth as choso slammed his cock deeper in your throbbing pussy. a veiny hand snuck to grasp at your blushing tit, before the same hand trailed upward to carefully hold your throat. 

“you’re mine,” he hissed, as if something were causing him great pain. “all fucking mine. this cunt belongs to me.”  

“all yours, choso,” you swore, your head bobbing up and down the best it could against the grasp of his hand. you could feel the wave of your orgasm beginning to crash, your heightened ah,ah,ah’s the indicator of what was starting to arise. 

“gonna cum, aren’t you?” choso solicited, his fingers rubbing against your cunt’s pearl. “cum then, pretty girl.” 

and so you did. you cried as your cunt clenched around his cock. choso groaned at the vanilla-reminiscent ring of cream you produced, the man pulling out just as he filled the trojan wrapped around his tip with his own salty-flavored cream. with a huff, he pulled the condom off his cock before he tossed it in the midnight-black tiny trash can behind him, his naked body then collapsing adjacent to yours.

you laid like that for a while, your bare breasts rhythmically rising up-and-down with each deep breath you took. you allowed your left forearm to press against your shut eyelids, allowing yourself a moment to recover from the orgasm that passed you. 

“that was good,” you laughed through a string of heaving breaths. “did you like it?”

“yeah,” choso replied, a hint of confusion inked his steady voice. a pregnant pause filled the air, his arm draping across your bare shoulders. “would you find it crazy if i said i didn’t remember any of it?”

“what?” you chuckled, taking his words to be some form of a joke. your laughter halted, however, once you took in his serious lips contorted to that of a flat line. “did you black out?” you then question, your breasts bowing shamelessly as you sat up against your soft pillows. 

“i might’ve,” he shrugged, allowing his form to press into your blanket underneath him. he left it as that, causing you to sigh out an ‘oh’ and nod your head dumbly. you wanted to say how he seemed normal, his usual self except for the fact he was a much bolder personality in bed. you blamed that on the arousal, however. wasn’t it normal for one to act more daring during sex? 

“i’ve got to get going, anyways,” choso suddenly remarked, his taller figure swiftly bouncing off your bed which left you downhearted. you loved company; those fleeting moments after sex never failed to even be cherished by your heart. “your parents will be home sometime soon, won’t they?”

“yeah,” you smiled, although it was gone just as quickly as it appeared. it was sad. you felt like a pathetic little puppy dog all depressed once its owner had to leave for work. “do you want me to walk you out?”

“sure, honey.”

-

you then quickly threw on your discarded sundress from off the floor, trailing behind choso as his fully-dressed form strode casually through the living room, his right hand clasping around the front door’s handle. 

“are you free next saturday?” you asked him, a blush on your face as he bent down to kiss your warm cheek. “yes,” he replied, flicking your cheek as if wiping an invisible tear from it. “i’ll call you. goodnight.”

and then he was off. “goodnight,” you called after him, closing the door behind him as you did. you didn’t lock it, of course, for your parents’ sake.

trailing sadly back to your room, you screamed at the sight before you. 

it was toji, but he’d been out of the wall. there he was, in all his cruel glory, sitting nonchalantly on the edge of your bed. he’d developed his lower limbs; his legs and thighs, of course, just as muscular as the rest of him. yet, there was something about him that contrasted his buff appearance. maybe it was his clenched waist, a waist you slightly envied. maybe it was his fringed hair-style, an unserious look for a demon. 

he looked, nonetheless, dare you even say it, normal for an evil creature. in evil creature standards? 

and then you felt ridiculous for casting so much attention onto his appearance when there was a much larger issue at stake. 

“what are you doing on my bed?”

he didn’t answer, of course, his devilish eyes glancing up-and-down your swaying form. you wondered what he was thinking about, wondering if you could even touch him. you strode towards him, your thoughts governing your impulsive thoughts. your hand stretched to caress his cheek, but right before you did, he vanished. 

you gasped, goosebumps growing across your skin as you felt the presence of him running up and down your arms. his aura possessed you entirely, but not literally; in a metaphorical sense, toji’s spirit danced all throughout your shivering form. you could tell he reappeared behind you, the buzzing sensation of his arms interlocked across your waist as he put his ghostly lips just below your earlobe. it must be frustrating, you thought as you allowed him to quietly take you in. it must be frustrating to not be able to communicate, at least not in the vocal way. 

he bit at your earlobe a little, causing you to laugh angelically at the playful, ticklish feeling. you could feel his chest against your back bounce happily. at least you knew entities could laugh. 

he placed a little kiss at the nape of your neck, his arms unlinking themselves from you. you turned around, interested in seeing what clever expression toji would have on his handsome, evil face. your smile dropped when you discovered he wasn’t there, wasn’t hiding away in any little corner of your room.

“toji?” you called, but to no avail. “toji?” you nonetheless tried again, your legs pacing across your room and into different parts of the cottage room in some attempt to find him. he was gone.

that night, he hadn’t returned to the wall, either. you’ve gotten used to his glowing eyes staring you down as you slept, a strange conformality you so desperately missed. even when your parents returned home, kissing you a goodnight on the top of your forehead, you still found yourself crying to sleep.

the sorrowful cries continued throughout the duration of two-weeks, the fever of your sobs heightening as you would soon discover choso had been found expectedly dead the week afterward. 

-

everything felt the same to you these days.

your bedsheets had gone unwashed for four weeks, the comforter stained with the scarlet-red residue of your menstrual and your pillows damped by your constant tears. you’ve been planning on washing them, of course, had your father not reminded you that the blueberries were ready to be harvested.

“your mother had been planning on making blueberry compote,” he explained, clearing his throat as he reassuringly rubbed your arm as you laid motionless in bed. “blueberry compote over those buttermilk pancakes you like.”

you thanked God you at least had parents who loved you. if it hadn’t been for them, you would’ve hung yourself with your soiled bed sheets. you’ve been having those thoughts at least once a day, now. 

puffy-eyed, you zoned out as you carelessly plucked at the blueberries, chucking them in your mother’s woven basket. why couldn’t your father pick his own blueberries? you tried to think positively, this outdoorsy excursion providing some form of distraction from your own thoughts. 

there were no bunnies hopping aimlessly around the grassy-patch. there were no songbirds chirping melodically among themselves. there was only you, the woven basket, the fucking blueberries.

then there was a snapping. your head jerked in the direction of what you determined to be an animal stepping on a fallen branch. you hadn’t seen anything; your eyes narrowed before they darted back to watch your own hands work.

another snap. you tilted your head once more, your heartbeat beginning to race. two more snaps commenced, causing your legs to rise up to your full length. 

and then, emerging from the bushes and branches of the forest just to the right of you, there he stood. 

“choso?” you gasped, the blueberry basket in your grasp collapsed towards where your feet rooted. 

there were clear indications that it was him; his exhausted, heavily bruised eyes, his cocoa-brown tresses, the scars that laid across his delicate nose’s bridge. yet, there was something sinisterly new about him. his eyes were narrowed, his gaze pointed hungrily at you as if you were a delicious bambi-doe. his lips curled upward into a simper, as if there was some inside joke between him and only him. his irises, interestingly enough, glowed a soft, orchid-purple hue. 

realistically, you should’ve known that it wasn’t truly choso. he wasn’t Jesus, the simple human unable to rise himself up from his perish after months. perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or the desperation that constantly lurked through every crevice of your brain. you ran to him, ran to the figure who you presumed to be your beloved choso. 

“choso,” you sobbed and heaved pathetically against his chest. you hugged your arms tightly around his waist, so tight that the man could die again. your body mournfully bounced against his, your tears so intense they stained the entire front of his tunic. he merely patted your head with his right hand, his left hand softly held your waist. “you have no idea how bad i missed you,” you hiccuped, your body suddenly heaving over as if you were about to throw up.

his hands, their softened nature, tenderly held your damp face. he peered deep into your eyes, as if he was opening the gateway to your soul. 

“choso,” you rasped once more, before he pulled you in to plant an amorous, long kiss on your lips. you hadn’t quite known what ghost lips tasted like; maybe Earth and rot. you internally gagged. you thanked God, however, that ghost kisses tasted exactly like nothing. there’d been no smell nor taste, similarly to those unscented soap bars your mother would make every first of the month. 

you kissed for quite a long time; his tongue suddenly found itself slipped deviously inside your mouth. you moaned, his ghostly hands curiously exploring the mounds and curves of your body. 

you don’t recall how or when, but you do remember finding your back kissing the bark of an old sycamore tree. his hands roamed throughout your body, his hands cupping the softness of your tits and the plumpness of your ass. you squealed in his mouth, feeling his cock harden against your thighs. 

he fucked you right there and then, his cock suddenly in his hands before he slipped it between the warm folds of your cunt. 

you moaned, the songbirds above you seem to chirp along to every little sound you made. he ripped the top of your baby-pink dress, your hardened tits peeking out at him as he pinched them. he nipped at the soft of your neck, his bite becoming intense as you began to reach nirvana. 

“fuck,” you rasped, your eyes shut in ecstacy as your mouth formed an erotic ‘o’ shape. “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

you peeked an eye out, your movements and noises suddenly stilling as you noticed toji’s face smirking back at you.

you then orgasmed, your screams of both pleasure and horror scattered the crows that were once perched on the tree branches above you. you fell to your knees, your screams growing in fervor as tears began to stream down your trembling face. 

you remained in your state of shock, even long after your father had ran to you and carried you home. the basket of blueberries had been left on the ground. 

-

everyone had thought you were crazy; you were sure of it. you were beginning to think you were truly crazy, too. 

you were in your bed once more, a bowl in your hands. hazelnut soup this time, another one of your mother’s delicacies. 

you felt awful; your head was throbbing, your eyes were puffy, your ass hurt from falling on it. you were sure your hair looked disarrayed, but external beauties didn’t mean shit if internally you felt suicidal. 

your parents had left you at home again, your father heading off to town to find a shrink while your mother set off to find some medicinal treatments. town wasn’t too far, thankfully, so you wouldn’t be left alone for too long. 

in the window behind you, something tapped irregularly. you ignored it, at first, your perpetual state of numbness too strong to escape from. you only managed to snap out of it when something hard was thrown at your window, the sudden bang of it making you jump in place. you scurried to the sill, your shaky hands swiftly opening the pane to peek your head out. 

nothing save for the cool breeze and howling owls were out there. peculiar.

closing the window behind you, you immediately shouted when you turned back round to face your bed. 

there he was again; choso’s form, but toji’s face inhibited it. it was something out of those stephen king novels, something so eerie it couldn’t possibly be reality. 

“leave me alone,” you howled, falling to your knees and scurrying to the corner of your room where the evil entity prowled closer. “leave me the fuck alone.”

“why?” choso’s raspy, creaky voice questioned, when in truth it was truly toji’s. his smug face sneered, his sharp teeth bared and shining. 

you screamed, your hands interlocked as you dug your face into your shaky knees. you rocked madly back and forth, the stench of rot and swamp drawing closer to your trembling form. 

“what’re you so scared of?” the terrifying tone questioned, his hands resting on your moistened-from-sweat thighs. you timidly glanced from between your tresses, your heart suddenly stopping once you took in toji’s face. you could feel the pumping in the organ coming to a halt, your pupils dilating to the extreme as your mouth was opened in a silent scream. his purple-hued scleras coupled with the emergence of sharp, razor-teeth influenced every tissue in your body to remain very still. you could see the entity move closer to your horrified form, the teeth then sinking harshly into the skin of your neck. you couldn’t even wail; you were forced to wordlessly endure his brutal torture. 

your waterlines, to toji’s accord, began to kiss each other as your eyes found themselves closed shut. the sensation of an unexpected breeze whoosked throughout your entire body; had you could, you would’ve intensely shivered. the hair on your skin’s surface found itself raised, and then instantaneously rested. the world around you had grown quiet and dark, a fact you were able to govern even from behind the mulberry-colored darkness of your eyelids. 

-

you felt very light, like a fairy soaring over a beautiful field of dandelions. there’d been no weight on you, not from what you feel as you arose from what appeared to be an extremely restful slumber. you rubbed your eyes, your brain too foggy and tired to completely register the darkness that encompassed your glowy figure. you’d then noticed, of course, as you eventually would’ve had to, anyways. 

you rubbed your eyes once more, somehow convinced that this would’ve changed the trajectory of your current predicament. “mom?” you called out, your voice light and unsure as you contemplated if this was another nightmare you were in. no response from your mother, as predicted. you began to slightly panic, your chest labored and your airy legs began to pace in circles. “dad?” you wailed, your voice growing in tremor. “mom? dad?”

“they’re not here,” a voice – toji’s – captivated your startled form. you spun dangerously around, your vocal chords dancing as you screamed bloody murder. 

“where am i?” you sobbed, sinking down to your knees as you cried and shook. “where’s my parents?”

“they’re not here,” toji simply repeated, his muscular, whispery legs drawing closer to your woeful, tiny body. “you’re home.”

“no,” you hissed, crawling away from toji’s extended arms and handsome smile. “no, i’m not fucking home.”

his smile never faltered, but the little devilish gleam in his eyes subdued. “you are,” he insisted, your angry scowl and furrowed eyebrows challenging his claim. “this is your home now, too.” 

“the fuck are you talking about?” you cussed, your smart-mouth suddenly shutting as he presented you with an image. your sight was replaced with the visual of your cold, murdered body on your bedroom’s oakwood-floors. your beloved parents had been crying over you, crowding your form.

your throat tightened as you felt the urge to gag.

“no!” you wailed, your body shaking violently as you pressed yourself deeper into the deception-flooring beneath you. “nonononowhycouldyoudothistomehowcouldyoudothistomewhatthefuckareyou.”

toji simply stared, unmoving nor unblinking as he observed you. 

“isn’t this what you wanted?” you could hear him question, a sheen of scarlet-red coated your vision as you peered up at him through glaring eyes. 

“what the fuck are you talking about?”

“that one night,” he began, his expression and tone steady. “when you wrapped that fabric around your neck-”

“-that was not for you to fucking take,” you interrupted, unable to bring your dead spirit form off the floor. “that would’ve been on my fucking terms, toji.”

silence. you found yourself growing silent for a beat, too. 

“i’m enamored with you,” toji then admitted, your eyes softening not from love, but from pure defeat. 

“why, toji?” you couldn’t help but question. “why did you have to appear in my wall?”

“i saved you,” he responded, surprisingly without cockiness or smugness. 

you scoffed. 

“you had a mundane life-”

“-i had a happy life,” you corrected. “comfortable, even.”

“is that why you tried to kill yourself?”

“oh my fuck-” you screamed, burrowing your head into into your palms. 

“don’t fight it,” you could hear toji say, and you could hear the stupid little smirk he had plastered throughout his words. 

“what now?” you despairingly questioned his ghostly, vibrant form. “what do you expect from me, now?”

“i expect you to wed me,” he shrugged, his head cocked as if that statement had been fucking truly expected.

nonetheless, you did wed him. it was a simple wedding; a few other ghostly figures attended, none of which you personally recognized. toji tried to pass them off as your ancestors, but you knew he was lying shamelessly through his teeth. you hadn’t worn a beautiful gown, nor had he’d worn a luxurious tux. you’d both been adorning the outfits you’d passed on in the human realm. 

it’s funny, you noted; funny how the only marriage you’d ever have would not have come until you were passed into the spirit realm. you used to daydream about your possible marriage to choso, now here you were getting wed to his murderer. you wondered where choso’s spirit had gone, his presence not sensed nor seen in the small crowd present. you suspected that he’d gone to a better place, perhaps somewhere like heaven. he was an angel on earth with you, it would only be right for him to be where lightness constantly shone on his skin like crystals.

toji simply had his soul banished.  

“do you accept her to be your wife?” the unearthly priest-ghost questioned.

“i do,” toji answered.

the priest swiveled to peer into you, his pearl-like eyes sunken into his wrinkled-face.

“do you accept…” his cracked voice began. “...to take toji as your husband for eternity?”

you peered into the eyes of toji, his scalera’s enticing as they shone an adoring hue of orchid-purple just for you. 

“i do.”

[bat2pony]

I think it is time I made my statements about the ships I enjoy from gen 4.

Full disclaimer though, these are my personal opinions! Everyone is entitled to their own headcanons and ships ^^ if you don't like mine, that's chill. As long as yours aren't problematic or harmful, I won't judge cause we're all just here to have fun 🙏

Likely my most controversial, but I ship Twilight Sparkle and Flash Centry. I can't help it. Them being canonically flirtatious in eqg wrapped its claws around my throat in 6th grade and I've never been able to escape. A tragic love story for the books.

I also enjoy it because her brother, Shining Armor, is a royal guard and with Princess Cadence. Flash Centry is a royal guard. Twilight is a princess. Do you see my train of thought?Also Twilight with any of the other mane 6 feels strange to me, although I can't express why.

I am a Fluttercord shipper. Fluttershy makes Discord lunches AND has pillows of them together in her cottage. And you know damn well they made those pillows together during one of their tea parties. They're canon without being canon and no one will ever change my mind. Also the tragedy of discord living long after Fluttershy. What is joy? I wouldn't know.

I ship Appledash in FiM and Rarijack in eqg. But also I think Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Rarity should just be poly in FiM.

Pinkie pie and Cheese Sandwich.

I like it when they're canon.

Honorable mentions:

Flutterdash (because I'm a sucker for the protector x the lover trope) and FlutterHugger because they're stoners.

And Pinkie Favor or Party Pie or whatever (Pinkie Pie x Party Favor) but that's literally just because they're cotton candy together and they're both party ponies. I like pink and blue combos.

Its very likely that I'm forgetting some of the ships I enjoy but meh. That is all.

[isaacforalpha14]

Dean Route

   The motel room is charming; a quaint breakfast nook by the bay window, potted succulents in the window frame, a sizable television mounted the the pale yellow wall, plush carpets the color of beach sand, a teal overstuffed loveseat with canary yellow pillows, two king sized beds with ocean blue comforter sets, and a freshly remodeled bathroom with white tiles and a clear shower stall. It seems you’d hit the jackpot finding a cheap motel in the middle of a remodel. Sam’s annoyed, you sense it the minute you agreed with Dean on sharing a room. The manner in which his shoulders tensed and his jawline flexed, there’s a shadow of hope creeping into your brain that this won’t end in another argument with him. It’s strange, there’d been an undeniable amount of communication throughout the relationship but Dean shows up and that comes crumbling down. Now, there are arguments that just seem trivial, secrets being hidden and that strange tension that seems to loom over the Winchesters. It feels like the universe is testing the relationship or telling you that you’d made the wrong choice. Sam mumbles something along the lines of ‘I am going to get us dinner’ before he disappears with the keys to the Impala. Dean’s holding his hand against his ribcage as he sits on his motel bed. Dean always slept in the motel bed closest to the door, it was the instinctual need to be the protector, if someone or something came crashing through the door they’d have to go through him to get to you or Sam. His attention is on you; the way you lean against the loveseat watching Sam leave without even attempting to take you with him, solemn expression.

“He’s just pouting.” Dean attempts to ease your nerves, releasing a hiss through clenched teeth as he shrugs off his military style green jacket. “He’s never liked the tiebreakers. He used to say you always side with me.”

The atmosphere in the motel room is comfortable; the tension that radiated from Sam has dissipated, leaving the aura in the room to feel like the old times when Sam would leave to run errands and you’d stay behind to help piece Dean together. Zipping up the backpack by your boots, you held the first aid kit that your father had gifted you on your first hunt. He instructed you to always carry it with you and you have every day since. The mattress tousles as you sit beside Dean, you hesitate, thrown by the intruding idea that you could help him remove his shirt but refrain from doing so. Fingers plucking at the sleeve of his black cotton t-shirt in a nonverbal gesture for him to remove the article of clothing. “You don’t have to help me.” He murmurs in a quiet tone, swallowing the lump in his throat at the close proximity as the flesh of your arm brushes against his bare skin after he’s removed his shirt. 

“Dean.” The hint of a smile on the corner of your tongue dampened lips as you focus on searching the first aid kit for the alcohol wipes. “When have I ever let you patch yourself up?”

“Touche.” He replies in a hushed tone, falling silent as he watches the movements of your hands in their determination to search for something. His stomach feels hollow as he anticipates the feel of your warm hands on his bare skin. 

“This is gonna sting.” You warn, furrowing your brow in empathy as he sighs at the frigid sting of the alcohol wipes against his wound. The fluid movements of the alcohol pad are gentle and precise, afraid that if there were too much pressure applied or if the action were rushed it’d end up in additional pain. It’s when you retrieve the nylon threading that he braces himself, he’s had homemade sutures a thousand times before, the sharp sting of the needle puncturing the wounded flesh is always the worst at the beginning. “Are you ready?” You question with a sympathetic smile, he nods in acknowledgment, placing his hands on his jean clad knees as he releases a hefty breath. A tilt of his head and closing his eyes, he tries not to involuntarily twitch as the needle punctures his skin. The sudden warmth of your palm against his chest near his anti-possession tattoo makes him shiver, ignoring the pain as you sew the wound closed, his olive eyes are focused instead on the concentration and care in your eyes. You’re so close that he can  smell the scent of your shampoo melded with perfume. The scent is intoxicating and he has to refrain from leaning forward and burying his nose in your hair. Before he can linger in his intrusive thoughts for too much time, you’re snipping the end of the thread and tying a knot. He glances down at your handiwork, admiring the precision of the suture and noting in another life you could’ve been a doctor. 

“At least it didn’t get your tattoo.” You observe, fingertips brushing the delicate flesh below his collarbone as you trace the design in an absentminded action. There’s a sense of guilt that creeps into the pit of your stomach but it’s overshadowed by the lurch of excitement that causes butterflies to go soaring in your abdomen as you notice Dean’s muscles in his toned stomach clench at the touch. Something in the air shifts, electric tension crackling within your nerve endings, the scene feeling more intimate as his olive green eyes meet yours. He’s fighting an unwinnable war in his mind; his heart is screaming at him that you feel what he does, his mind telling him this is wrong, and his gut telling him to just kiss you. He places his forehead on yours, the affectionate gesture startling you at his vulnerability, nose brushing against yours, warm breath fanning over your lips. Heart hammering against your chest, your mind is chanting for you to remove yourself from the situation, you can’t do this, but there’s something in your heart that’s telling you this is where you belong. All it would take is Dean pursing his lips and they’d be on yours. Neither of you are moving away, it’s like a silent game of chicken to see who’d retreat first but both are too stubborn to give in. Dean’s throat bobs as he swallows, retreating from the compromising position as he leans back further to sit upright again. There’s disappointment in your expression, he catches it and it makes him wonder if you’d wanted him to kiss you. It’s a dangerous game to play. If he had kissed you; he’d never stop until you were his, it would hurt Sam. 

The motel room entrance releases a beep, Sam using the key card to come in just in time to witness you walking away from a shirtless Dean. His attention flickers to the sutures on his bare chest and it makes him release a sigh of relief but then he catches the longing in his brother’s eyes as you close the bathroom door and he’s hit with a realization. Sam never wanted to be that guy but he can't seem to help the jealous annoyance; he caught Dean watching you in the rear view mirror on several occasions throughout drives to hunts, the manner in which he smiled like a lovesick teen as you spoke made his stomach knot, the hushed conversation and giggling at the diners during lunches, the way Dean never minded when you ate food off of his plate, the way Dean always let you choose music in the car, the way Dean always just knew what you needed and how to make you feel better. The intimate scenes he’s witnessed over the years like what he walked into after Kevin disappeared, and now this. How could he have never noticed that his brother is in love with you? The real question that haunted him was if you love him too.

[infwctednyacifier]

Hello! Can we get a 🦣 Grande pack?

We would like someone floral with purple/pink vibe, and that would be good in social interactions and stressful tasks. Please have fun with it. Thank you! 🪶🩷

small pillow still ass but let ass yk . og pillow still looking good n perfect so thats good and ill have to redo the small pillow some time . Had to change it early on cuz we liked sewing so much we split

˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙— ORDER UP ! ;; requested ☕ ᝰ.ᐟ grande 🦣 // pink & purple floral themed who handles anything social and stressful

Names – Ivor , Jasper , Kit

Nicknames – Ivory , Jasp , Ja

Age – 22

Pronouns – he / him , hx / hxm , ix / ix's , bow / bow's , ribbon / ribbon's , lace / lace's , satin / satin's , silk / silk's , soft / soft's , antler / antler's , cotton / cotton's , spot / spot's , wing / wing's , holy / holy's , divine / divine's , hymn / hymn's , pray / pray's , worship / worship , heart / heart's , valentine / valentine's , horn / horn's , lust / lust's , fuck / fuck's

Gender – cisboy , femboy , pupboygender , laceboy , lacething , deergender , angelcoric , angelgender , fawnthing , fawnvalentinic , ribbongender , incubian , conincubian

Terms – masc , neu

Orientation – achillean , gay , hypersexual

Personality – fluctuates between energetic / fatigued / creature - like , random , pessimistic in a way , obssessive

Role – socializer , stress holder / destressor , sexual obsessor , sexual protector ( additionally deals with manifestation )

Species – puppy kemonomimi , deer kemonomimi , incubus

Source – introject

Emojis – 🐾 , 🦌 , 🍑 , 🎀 , 💸 , 👑

Front triggers – social interactions / spaces , sexual situations , any form of stress , when his boyfriend is fronting , Sanrio or cutecore / weirdcore / analog horror aesthetic

Memories – sporadic ;; famous streamer / online idol and digital angel of sorts . Millions of fans worldwide . Has problematic thoughts regarding self harm and using others around for hx for personal reasons such as money or to further ix ' s success . Uses manifestation instead of people .

Extra – Bow ' s boyfriend is basically ribbon ' s handler and manager and wherever lace is , satin ' s boyfriend follows .

Example message –

Likes – silk ' s boyfriend , soft ' s fans , Japanese and Korean food ( convenience store specifically ) , being spoiled , plushies & fluffy blankets

Dislikes – cats , rain , being fakeclaimed in any way , slimy / scratchy / generally unpleasant textures , haters

Faceclaims –

[tranceindia123]

Advantages of using Quilted Pillow Covers

During the process of creating a comfortable and healthy sleeping environment, pillow protectors are often overlooked. However, using quality pillow protectors like the Trance Home Linen, Quilted Pillow Protector Dust Free Water Resistant Covers (Set of 2)will greatly enhance your sleeping experience and increase the lifespan of your pillows. One of the most important reasons to have pillow protectors is to protect your pillows from dust mites, allergens, and other dust. Dust mites love warm, humid places and tend to live in bedding. Dust mites may trigger allergies and asthma problems and result in terrible night's sleep. A quilted pillowcase is a protection that does not allow dust mites to reach your pillows and keeps allergens out. This is particularly useful for those who suffer from respiratory problems or allergies. Accidents do happen—whether you spill a drink in bed, sweat during the night, or maybe drool while you're sleeping. Waterproof pillow protectors offer additional defense against moisture. The water-resistant design keeps liquids from penetrating through your pillows, which keeps them from developing mold and mildew. Dry pillows not only keep your pillows in better condition for longer but also make for a healthier sleeping space.

[abyssal-forge-bah]

In the reflection of the water, you see...

General stuff:

1. Name: Furret, Long, Ootachi, Ferret, Tail, Itachi, Fouinar, Dakkori, Comet, Sarolt, Bustel, Chase, Flower, Bandit, Emmet, Calico, Skooter, Daisy, Minnie, Sofia, Poppy, Doodle, Clover, Fizz, Meinir, Tressa, Landon, Joel, Willy

2. Pronouns: he/him, she/her, it/its, fur/furs, paw/paws, claw/claws, wea/weasel, badg/badger, ott/otter, ferr/ferret, mink/minks, 🦦/🦦s, 🦡/🦡s, fluff/fluffs, fuzz/fuzzy, bean/beans, luv/luvs, <3/<3s, sof/soft, pas/pastel, plush/plushies, cute/cutie, ve/vel, to/toy, si/silk, flow/flower, cot/cotton, kit/kits, pup/pups, pi/pillow, ya/yarn, dream/dreams, pix/pixie, bub/bubble, stuff/stuffing, lace/laces, 🎀/🎀s, 🐾/🐾s, lop/lops, choco/chocos, purr/purrs, pink/pinks, squi/squish, 💕/💕s, 🤎/🤎s, love/loves, fae/faes, 💖/💖s, pet/petal, cake/cakes, bun/buns, com/comfy, floo/floof, woo/wool, heart/hearts, stick/sticker, smile/smiles, spark/sparkle, laugh/laughs, jo/joys, fun/funs, play/plays, candy/candies, glitt/glitter, boop/boops, walk/walks

3. Species: Furret, ferret, weasel, human

4. Source: Pokemon, Pokemon Scarlet/Violet

5. Gender identity / sex: apogender, unlabeled, ferretfrilled, sillyferretic, frostfurric, marshyfluffgender, fluffthing, sweetiegender, cutecreature, coffzyean, cozidroom, goobergender, pastelstreamer

6. Sexual / romantic attraction: monogamous, bi, aromantic

7. Gender expression: androgynous fem leaning

8. Role: masker, soother, posier, protector

9. Sign-off: 🤎, 🍂, 🐾, 🥖, 🌭, 🧣, ☄️

10. Face claim:

🫧_🫧_🫧

Additional stuff:

11. Favourite things:

• Hobbies: watching Twitch, playing video games, astrology, plushie making, dancing, stretching, walking

• Objects: shawls, Nintendo games, cute hats, stickers, plushies, books

• Colors: light olive, light orange, light pink, light purple

12. Voice claim

Be aware that headmate could form differently than described!

[giantimpex]

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[timmytoons]

Why Organic Mattress Toppers Are Gaining Popularity

Are you looking for an idea? Through which, The Organic Mattress Toppers Are Going Popular Day by Day

Individuals that are concerned about sustainability and getting a good night's sleep are purchasing organic latex mattress toppers made from natural materials in vast numbers. Yet, it is important to look at the organic materials and designs that make visit site here these high-quality products so worthwhile.

Eco-Friendly Construction

The first reason that people look at a pillow top mattress pad made from GOTS certified materials is that they are created with eco-friendly principles. For one thing, the materials that are used are non-toxic by virtue of the fact that they're naturally occurring and sustainably harvested. An example of some materials used in organic mattress toppers includes natural wool, natural Talalay latex, Dunlop latex, and other organic textiles.

The items used to make the tops of plush beds are backed by several groups including the USDA in the USA, OEKO-Tex, Eco-Institut; they are also GOLS certified in most cases. It's no small wonder that these handmade, quilted items are so popular with people that would rather use organic wool in their topper compared to using a wool mattress topper that utilizes harmful chemicals in the development. In short, organic bedding products are popular because they're good for the user and the environment.

A Natural Latex Mattress Topper is Comfortable

Comfort is another major reason that people enjoy sleeping on a memory foam mattress protector. Even when they are placed on an existing mattress instead of a new one, an organic cotton cover can make a person feel like their mattress is newer.

For one thing, the materials are developed to lessen the feelings of springs pushing into one's pressure points. When combined with a firm mattress, an organic mattress topper can not only add durability to the equation, but it will also bring comfort.

A GOLS certified organic topper on a new mattress provides pressure point relief, better breathability in materials, and much more. The bottom line is that the users are far more comfortable when sleeping on a mattress and topper that are made to be supportive and comfortable.

Organic Cotton Toppers Provide a Safe Sleeping Experience

Safety is a major issue for anything that a person is coming into contact with for 8 hours a day— like their bed. Organic toppers are being added to twin xl beds without worry because the owners understand that organic materials are better than regular fillers.

For one thing, organic mattress toppers are developed without the toxic chemicals that some mattresses use as fire retardants. Instead, an organic topper will use flame retardants that are developed using natural materials.

Another element of safety comes from the gassing effect that beds can do over time. Mattress materials can become airborne, attach to dust mites, and be aspirated by the user causing allergic reactions. Fortunately, the all-natural development in best organic mattress toppers results in hypoallergenic materials in the toppers along with antimicrobial properties that don't allow germs to sit on the topper and spread. All in all, they're very safe compared with older mattress styles.

[kouwishop]

Bianca Deluxe Waterproof Mattress Protector Single

Extend the life of you mattress and pillows with Deluxe Waterproof Mattress Protector by Bianca. If features deluxe 100% cotton velour, health guard treated, anti dust mite & 50cm wall. Made from 100% cotton velour fabric, breathable, machine washable & tumble dry. Will fit any depth mattress. Features: Deluxe 100% cotton velour HealthGuard treated Anti dust mite 50cm wall Set Includes: 1 x…