#did you fall out of the womb knowing? or did you pick up some things on the way here?

[time-to-write-and-suffer]

I love how on Tumblr, "media literacy" has become "Um, just because someone writes about this doesn't mean they're endorsing this. I hate all these media puritans ruining everything."

I'm sad to inform you that knowing when and whether an author is endorsing something, implying something, saying something, is also part of media literacy. Knowing when they are doing this and when they're not is part of media literacy. Assuming that no author has ever endorsed a bad thing is how you fall for proper gander. It's not media literacy to always assume that nobody ever has agreed with the morally reprehensible ideas in their work.

Sometimes, authors are endorsing something, and you need to be aware when that happens, and you also need to be aware when you're doing it as an author. All media isn't horny dubcon fanfic where you and the author know it's problematic IRL but you get off to it in the privacy of your brain. Sometimes very smart people can convince you of something that'll hurt others in the real world. Sometimes very dumb people will romanticize something without realizing they're doing it and you'll be caught up in it without realizing that you are.

Being aware of this is also media literacy. Being aware of the narrative tools used to affect your thinking is media literacy. Deciding on your own whether you agree with an author or not is media literacy. Enjoying characters doing bad things and allowing authors to create flawed or cruel characters for the sake of a story is perfectly fine, but it is not the same as being media literate. Being smug about how you never think an author has bad intentions tells me you're edgy, not that you're media literate. You can't use one rule to apply to all media. That's not how media literacy works. Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! Aheem heem. Anyway.

[rivatar]

The Heat

MDNI!🔞

Pairing: Aged¡Up¡Neteyam x Fem¡Omatikaya¡Reader

Synopsis: Reader goes into heat and Neteyam being the good boy he is helps her ofc

Warnings: SMUT, breeding, cussing

A/N: Well guys I couldn’t contain myself from writing a reader in heat fic and y’all wanted Neteyam to be the lucky man so here ya go!🤭 Also sorry it’s taken so long! Hope you enjoy and Happy Valentines Day 💌

W/c: 2.5k

The day started off like usual. You woke up and got ready for the day, fixing your everyday beads into your hair and freshening up with some some oils. You were still living in your parents hut despite their efforts to get you married off, so in turn you had to do the same amount of work they did, maybe even more since they were getting older.

You had a good bit of chores to do today — helping your mother weave a couple more loincloths for your family, helping your little brother practice his English, and the timeliest chore of all, going to the outskirts of the forest to collect yovo fruit.

You’d decided to leave that chore for last, going in the afternoon soon after you’d had lunch with some of your friends. You asked if any of them could go with you to keep you company and help, but they all had their own things to do for today.

And so you started on your way, basket in hand and some supplies to help you with the picking. You figure it shouldn’t take you anymore than about 2-3 hours so you could be back in time to help your mother prepare dinner.

…

You knew you were over halfway there, you recognized a little pond that you’ve mentally noted as a halfway mark whenever you’d had to do this before. There was no sign of any Na’vi out here which was a little nerve racking but you knew how to protect yourself if there was any danger to come, having your bow on your back and knife on your hip.

Then you suddenly felt a sting in your lower stomach. Your ears perked up at the feeling but you kept walking, assuming it would go away.

But then you felt your temperature rise, sweat starting to form on your hairline. Your hands were clammy and you felt a bit dizzy. This made your heart drop because now was not the time to fall ill, though you were confident someone would come find you if you weren’t back by eclipse.

You found a rock and decided to sit on it and try to catch your breath. You were trying not to freak out but you didn’t know what was wrong.

The stinging was getting worse and turned more into a sharp aching, making you wince at the uncomfortableness. Your breath was quickly picking up and your mouth went dry.

You opted to kneel onto the ground, hunching over in pain. And then that’s when you realized — you must be in heat. These were all the tell-tale signs of a heat, which you had never experienced before.

You mentally cursed at the horrible timing. You knew you needed the Tsahik to help you but here you were, stranded in the deep forest.

It was rapidly getting more intense and you were losing all your thoughts. Your brain and body was turning to mush and your pupils dilated, you knew your control and rationality was slipping away.

Trying to find relief, you tugged off your loincloth and jeweled top. It cooled you down for a second, but only for the desperate need to keep spreading more intensely all throughout your body.

You knew what you needed and it was all that consumed your mind. You were no stranger to sex, you’ve had a few men. But this wasn’t about fun, casual sex — you needed to be bred and you felt it deep in your aching womb, as much as you would normally hate to admit that. But now you had no shame and were only focused on getting your sweet release.

…

Neteyam was out on patrol for the day and he didn’t mind this job. It consisted of walking near the borders and all around the uncommon areas in the forest. Usually he ran into no problems, so he didn’t complain about this duty. It was actually quite peaceful as it allowed him to be alone with his thoughts as he was out walking, still on high alert nonetheless.

He was just about to take a break from walking and dip his feet into a little pond he spotted when he smelled something unfamiliar. He didn’t recognize the scent but it was so good. His nose twitched as he tried to follow the sweet smell and then he heard a high pitch whine, like someone was in distress.

All his senses on alert, he carefully followed these distractions. And that was when he saw you.

He stumbled back in shock as he took in the scene before him. You were naked and drenched in sweat, straddling a large rock and grinding mercilessly on it, covering it in your juices and sweat. You were whining so much it looked like you were crying, clearly being tortured. And he recognized you, he knew your name and would see you out occasionally but that was about it.

As he was trying to process what his eyes were seeing, your scent crept up into his nose, even stronger and heavy in the air. Your eyes were screwed shut so you hadn’t noticed him yet until you smelled him—earthy and musky like a man.

Your eyes flashed open and head snapped to find him standing, a small whine escaping your lips.

“Y/n?” He breathed out shakily, as if he couldn’t believe it was you who was really in front of him doing this.

“Neteyam!” You shouted in relief. You were completely gone at this point.

His ears shot up at the sound of his name, though concern filled his eyes at your state.

“I need your help,” you cried, almost sobbing right then.

His eyes looked around still trying to process it all. He realized you were in heat and needed to see the Tsahik so she could give you medicines to ease the pain until it passed. But Eywa, you looked so good. After all he was only a man and had his limits too, even as the golden child. He gathered his thoughts and cleared his throat.

“Y/n, you poor girl,” he said sympathetically, “I’m so sorry this has happened out here. Let me carry you back to the tsahik, okay?”

“Nooo! Can’t wait! I need you to help me, you know what I need!” You whined to him.

He really did feel bad for you, you looked pitiful. And your scent was still continuing to attack his nostrils, getting him high on you.

You weakly crawled over to him and clung onto his leg. “Please!! I’ll do anything! I’m sorry- but please just help me!!” You laid your head tenderly against his calf as your body was slightly shaking and planted a kiss on his leg.

His eyes grew wide at your display of submission and neediness. You were breaking him quickly. He prided himself on his self-control and discipline, having been able to always do the right thing. But you were making him hungry with desire, he wanted nothing more than to indulge in you and give you everything you wanted right now. But what would his or your parents think? He needed to calm you down and get you to someone else before he crumbled completely. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

“Sweet girl,” he cooed softly looking down at you, though his eyebrows were scrunched up and jaw was clenching from his own internal war of trying to resist you. “I know it hurts but I can run fast, let me get you to help!” He reasoned and tugged your arms.

“Teyam NO! I need to be fucked right now!” Now you really were crying in desperation.

He finally lost his restraint at your vulgar plead. He crouched down to your level and held your face gently in his hands, seriousness sketched on his face.

“You’re not in your right mind,” he shook his head and you felt a pang of disappoint for a moment, “but I will help you. As you wish” he whispered tenderly.

You were ecstatic that he finally agreed. You nodded your head vigorously and pounced on him, losing your patience. He grunted as you both fell back and you landed on him. You ripped off his loincloth. You were not yourself at all but this wasn’t registering in your brain. You just knew you needed dick, now.

His pretty face looked surprised and taken aback by your straightforwardness but it was quickly replaced by his own desperation to have you.

You grabbed his dick and grinned from ear to ear, you were impressed with his size and couldn’t wait to have him in you. He propped himself on his elbows to watch you. You eagerly positioned him to your entrance, ready to lower yourself.

“Shit baby, just wanna get right to it, huh?” He commented and let out a weak chuckle, though he wasn’t really complaining.

“Mhmm, can’t wait Teyam” you whimpered.

He nodded his head in understanding and placed his hands on your hips to encourage you on. “Go on, sevin” he urged you. He knew you were using him but he didn’t mind and wanted to help you.

You sank down on him, marveling in the sensation. His cock gave the perfect amount of drag on your walls as you went lower and lower until your hips met. Both your jaws were slack and he groaned at the feeling.

“So fucking tight and wet” he grunted, “you’re gonna drive me crazy”

You moaned in response and tightened around him. He didn’t fail to notice you squeezing him after he spoke.

“You like what I’m sayin, huh? You like being talked to?”

“Yes, please!”

“Start riding me, take whatever you need.”

You wasted no time in obliging his request. You sat up and slammed back all the way down, taking all of him once again. You moaned in unison at the sweet friction.

Picking up the pace, you began bouncing on him. You planted your hands onto his chest for stability and he grabbed your wrists to hold them in place.

“F-fuck! Mmmm yeah, you’re doing so good, y/n” he praised you, urging you on.

You were a moaning mess above him, not even able to form words at the moment. His cockhead was hitting your cervix each time and the pleasure was consuming every nerve in your body. It was all you could think about.

You were creaming all over him, it coated his lower stomach and thighs, making unholy noises. You could feel your release approaching and he could feel his too, as his dick began to twitch inside of you.

“Teyam! Gonna- gonna cum!!” You announced to him.

“I know babe I know, do it!! I am too- shit!” He squeezed his eyes shut, his orgasm overtaking his body.

As soon as you felt his seed shooting into you and heard his low whimpers of pleasure, that was all you needed to get to completion too.

“Ahh! Fuck, fuckkkk!” You screamed so loud they could probably hear you back at the village. You convulsed around his length, milking him dry. You rode out your high on him, not even caring that you were overstimulating him as he was writhing on the ground below you.

You slumped onto him after you got what you wanted. Your bodies were sweating and slippery against each other, hearts pounding and panting into each others ears.

After a few seconds, you still felt the aching in your womb wanting more. You rose up to look at him and try to beg for more, hoping he would grant your request.

“You had enough?” He asked. He looked pussy drunk and you loved that it was yours that got him this way.

“No.. need more” you cried shamelessly and harshly sniffed his scent in like it was a drug.

“Okay sweetie,” he began as he secured you in his arms and rose up to his feet effortlessly. Eywa, he was so strong. “Let me fuck you properly. My way.”

He backed you up against a tree, still holding you up with his big, bulky arms. You knew he was muscular of course but you had never been this close to him. You went from barely being acquaintances to getting real close, real fast. It definitely would never be the same after this.

His length was already rock hard again, no doubt because of your strong pheromones suffocating him and putting him under your spell. By Eywa, you were making him an animal too. He wanted to make you cum over and over again, screaming his name.

He grabbed his dick with one hand and slid it across your abused, puffy cunt. He loved the sight and wanted this moment etched in his mind forever.

“So, so pretty y/n. You should’ve let me do this a long time ago. Guess I didn’t catch your eye” he stated jokingly.

“You’re the olo’eyktan’s son.. I figured you’d never have time for someone ordinary like me”

“Ordinary?? You just made me cum embarrassingly soon, I think that’s rather impressive and special” he chuckled. You laughed too. Gah, he was so handsome.

Bringing you out of your daze, he pushed his dick inside you. You were still wet with yours and his release so it glided easily. You instantly let out a long moan at being full of him again.

His ears were peeled back and he was biting his lip to try to suppress his own sounds of satisfaction. He was definitely pussy whipped.

He started his pace and it simply felt like heaven. Your pussy was already more sensitive from previously orgasming so the pleasure was intensified and downright addicting.

You were moaning and whimpering incoherently and he was watching your perfect, round tits bounce like he was in a trance.

“Damnit girl” he gritted through his teeth, struggling to keep any sort of composure “You’re so good. Doing so good for me”

He finally took the opportunity to kiss you on the lips. He was warm and sweet on your tongue, you let him take over your mouth and moaned through the kiss. You wanted to scream from the pleasure but he made you take his kiss.

You were getting near and he could tell by the way you squeezed him. He wanted to cum with you so he started jackhammering up into you, holding onto you so you wouldn’t fall out of his grasp from the aggressive thrusts flinging you about.

“Ohhhh! My Eywa! It’s too much!” You cried out, words broken up slightly from the air getting knocked out of you.

“You can take it! Cmon take it for me, sevin!” he pleaded desperately with you.

You came undone over him and shook violently. The pleasure coursed through every inch of you and you cried out his name over and over again. His name on your pretty lips was more than enough to push him over as well. He let out his load into you and pushed it all the way back to your cervix.

He crashed onto you and you were squished between the tree and his heavy, brawny body. You didn’t mind the squeeze though, you loved how huge he was and how small he made you feel.

He was lowly humming in satisfaction. Weakly, he lifted his head up to look at you, you were so close you were nose-to-nose. Both your expressions were of being fucked out and pure bliss.

His hooded eyes filled with lust searched your eyes. “Another round?”

…………….

Taglist: @professional-yapper @neteyamssyulang @nonamevenus

[l1tw1ck]

Picking Up a Stray

bottom!ftm Miguel x top!male reader

🕷️ Word Count: 863 🕷️

[Part Two] | AFAB Language Used

i just woke up from a very very very long sleep and wrote this within an hour, i proofread it but there's probably a few mistakes 😭

CW: Non-Con to Con, Vibrator, Public Sex, Squirting, Virginity Loss, Blood, Creampie, miguel has a rape kink

Miguel’s doing errands with a vibrator lodged in his cunt and he's trying so hard to pretend like it doesn't feel good. Like he doesn't want to fall to the floor and let it do its thing, make him come and moan like the slut he is. He takes a shortcut to the last store on his list, determined to get this done. Lyla warns him that he won't make it but he doesn't listen. He turns the wrong way despite Lyla giving him directions, he’s distracted by the rapid buzzing in his pussy and mindlessly walks into a dead end. Nobody seems to come this way. He could rest here for a moment and no one would see him. Lyla tells him not to, she has the directions for the closest bathroom and urges him to hold out a bit longer. He can't. He falls to the ground along with his bags and gives in to the vibrator, even stroking his erect t-dick through his pants to expedite the process. He had no reason to though, as he squirts only moments later.

Lyla tells him he's no longer alone and his eyes shoot towards the exit. Fuck. He’s screwed (literally). You walk towards him and look down at him. "Today must be my lucky day." You whistle, grabbing his shirt and lifting him up. Miguel considers himself a pretty heavy guy, the fact that you can pick him up is terrifying.

"Leave me alone." He growls. He can’t feel Lyla anymore. He doesn't know what happened to her but he’s all alone now.

"Don’t act like you don't want this, kitty." You pull down his pants and then his panties, his slick is hesitant to part with the fabric, sticking to it almost like a spider web.

"I don't!" He yells. He tries to move around and fight you but to no avail. You’re determined to fuck him. You shove your fingers inside him, making him moan, and pull out the vibrator. You bring it to your face, taking in the smell before licking up all the slick it's collected. You drop it on the ground and free your hard cock with just one hand.

Miguel's breath hitches when he sees your length. It’s thick, veiny, and long. Screw what he said before. He wants this. He’s always had a fantasy like this, where he gets raped by some rando with a big dick. He never thought he'd actually want it. But maybe part of him did, maybe that's why he decided to use a vibrator today. He wanted the thrill, the possibility of getting caught and having to take responsibility for it.

Despite this revelation, he continues to act like he doesn't want it. He pretends to be angry as you push him against the wall and lift him into the air, his legs held up by your strong hands. He looks down and watches you rub your cock along his messy pussy, your precum drips down onto his womb, making him twitch.

"please.." He whimpers. "Please don't." He continues his facade, getting insanely turned on when he sees your reaction.

"Oh, kitty, even if you cry, I won't let you go. It’ll only make me want you more." You bring your tip to his entrance. He gulps. He's going to lose his virginity to a stranger in an alleyway. Why does he love that so much? You shove your length into him, making him throw his head back. He bites his lip, holding back his moans. You let out a curse. "You’re tight. So, so fucking tight.." You dig your nails into his flesh and start pounding into him. Miguel covers his mouth with his hands, tears starting to fall thanks to the pain of losing his virginity. He knows he's bleeding and he loves it. He's unbelievably horny right now.

You look down at where the two of you meet and notice a coat of cum and blood on your shaft. "This is your first time?" You ask, voice shaky. He nods, sniffling. "Shit." You fuck him even rougher, excited to be the one who took his virginity. Miguel can't help but come, squirting hard. "You like this, don't you?" You smirk, licking your lips. "It's okay, kitty, be honest." You pry his hands away.

Miguel whimpers. "I lo- love it~" He moans.

You chuckle. "Of course you do." You bring him into a kiss and despite his inexperience he happily reciprocates it. He feels your thrusts losing their rhythm, does that mean…? His pussy convulses around your length, excited to be filled up with your cum. The feeling of that quickly brings you to your orgasm.

You pull away from the kiss and look at his blissed out expression. "I don't typically take in strays but I'll make an exception for you." You pull out of him and put his clothes back on, forcing him to walk around with your cum inside him. Not that he doesn't want that. He looks at you as you grab his hand, he’s barely aware of what's happening. He lets you take him to your home, leaving his bags in the alleyway.

[gor3-hound]

jujutsu kaisen works (dark content)

☆ salvation

ft. cult leader!suguru geto x reader

tw: non/dub-con, corruption

“Thank you for your help, Master Geto. I feel a lot better now. It's been a while since I managed to get a full-night's sleep.” You reply, offering him a gentle smile. Your eyes still look a little hazy, as if you're about to fall asleep any moment. Suguru decides to put his plan into action.

You're not quite delirious enough to miss the way his hand wanders along your side, caressing the curve of your hip and giving it a squeeze before he slips his hand under your shirt, feeling the fever hot skin of your stomach. His eyes flick up as he hears the cup being set on the table, your brows furrowed in confusion.

☆ daddy's home

ft. real dad!toji x reader

tw: incest

“Ah. You're my favourite, anyway.” He tells you, and you smile. You know you're only his favourite because you put up with his shit, but it still makes you happy to hear him say that. You can see the way his lips curl into a smirk at that, and he slowly drags his gaze along your body. You're not sure you appreciate the way he's looking at you, though. Like, it's great to get some attention from your dad for once, but that doesn't exactly mean you want him looking at you like you're a piece of meat.

☆ bark or bite - commission

ft. real dad!toji x reader

tw: incest, dub-con

“One more fuckin’ word, sweetheart. I dare ya. Always wanna act like a bitch with Daddy, huh? You're gonna get fuckin’ treated like one.” He hisses, grabbing you by your hair to tug your head back harshly. “Pretty mouth like yours should only be used for one thing, but mutts like you love to bite. Daddy's gonna have to make sure ya can't.” He snaps the collar in place first, and that's already enough to get you begging. All the 'no, daddy's and 'please, I'm sorry's in the world couldn't stop him now, not with how rapidly his cock is filling out. It's hot, almost gets him as worked up as when he squeezes that little throat with his hand. The bone gag comes next, and he even got you a pretty one, the pink leather straps matching the collar. He sees your jaw clench, and then you're tugging your face away disobediently. You're even a fucking brat being faced with your punishment.

☆ written all over your face - commission

ft. naoya zenin x puppy!reader

tw: hybrid mistreatment, cruel naoya, forced cosmetic procedures

He kneels behind you, spreading your folds with two fingers, humming in satisfaction as strings of slick spread and break at his actions. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t pick out a puppy for that exact reason - a few words of praise, and you were soaked. He slips a finger deep into your cunt, adding another one and scissoring them open before groaning at the tightness. You felt like a virgin, too. Perfect. He pulls his fingers out and licks them clean, wiping his spit off on your clothes before he pulls them back on. He gives your ass a few pats as he stands up, turning around to bang a few times on the door. ”Hey! I’ll take her.”

☆ give me love - commission

ft. naoya zenin x reader

tw: incest, verrryyy light dub-con

Growing up in the Zen'in clan taught you one important lesson - women would always be seen as inferior to men. It did not matter how hard you worked to prove yourself to the Elders in the clan. You were a woman, and that was crime enough.

More than anyone, Naoya had every right to resent you. Your mere existence was an inconvenience to him, but more than that, your birth dishonoured him. He already had to fight harder than your brothers to climb to the top and become the head of the clan, but sharing a womb with a woman was unforgivable. He was constantly ridiculed for having a female twin, and in turn, you were treated as a stain on the Zen'in name for bringing shame to a Zen'in heir.

☆ 'til death do us part - commission

ft. naoya zenin x reader

tw: forced breeding, abuse

Being the favoured whore of Naoya Zen'in is considered an honourable position to have. You would be blind to miss the envious gazes of the other servants within the clan walls as you make your way through the halls once more, towards his room. You're sure their jealousy would dissipate if they knew how he truly was. He did not mask his attitude, his distaste for women as a whole – for prey women, no less. The extent of it was not something even you had anticipated. You had theoretically climbed the ranks to an easier job. After all, you'd gotten your own chambers. Three square meals most days. It was no wonder the other women wished they were in your position.

☆ sly fox // dumb bunny - commission

ft. zenin clan x reader

tw: dubcon

“You've all failed to produce any useful heirs to secure your place as the next head of the clan. Ogi has given us women, Toji - a bastard. My own son has not even produced a child, and as for you, Jinichi… I do not even wish to speak on the matter. You have somehow disappointed me more than your brother.”

Naobito kicks your trembling form forward, your body bare as you catch yourself before making contact with the floor. The wood is rough against your soft skin, your eyes flickering across the many faces of the Zen'in men staring down at you.

“A bunny. Not ideal, of course. But fertile enough I'm sure one of you will be able to fuck a useful heir into her by the end of today.”

☆ just wanna be yours - commission

ft. inumaki + yuta

cw: dubcon, coercion

Inumaki saved your life. He would do anything for you. He’d lost his fucking arm saving you. Didn’t he deserve more than a few phone calls when you had the spare time? It wasn’t fair. His entire career was at risk, all because of you – didn’t he deserve a little more than a bit of friendly concern?

[thesassypadawan]

Yes, My Lord (Burnt Darth Vader x FemPetReader)

Summary: After suffering defeat at the hand of his old master, Vader takes out his anger and frustration on you, his perfect pet.  Over and over, you take it so well…loving every delish minute of it.

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because all the lovely smut.  Size difference, stomach bulge, Dom Lord, Sub Reader…and Vader’s big dick. 

Notes: Told you, don’t tempt me to write a good time with Daddy Vader...because I totally did it! This is a Burnt Vader fic.  A certain thing is still intact and has been ‘enhanced’ by the dark side of the force. I would also love to know what you all thought of this...if you would possibly like to see more Vader fics!!!

- You don’t know what occurred. You’ve learned it’s better not to ask questions when it comes to your lord’s comings and goings. Just do as you’re told and happily take everything that’s given to you.

- Vader had come storming into his bed chamber. Raw anger radiating from his massive form. His breathing was more labored than usual. Mask partially shattered, revealing some of his handsome, scarred face.

- He says no words, merely snaps his long fingers and you obediently come scampering to his side. You’re his perfect pet, his personal cocksleeve, his little slut. You’ll do whatever he demands of you…and love every minute of it.

- You should be horrified, absolutely terrified of him. Yet as you strain your neck to gaze up into that dangerous, golden eye; you can already feel the arousal rising inside of you. The dampness growing between your legs.

- “Welcome home, my lord,” you purr, placing a tiny hand on his thick abdomen. “How may I serve you?”

- A half-twisted smile is his answer.

- And so, there you were…being bounced on your lord’s large lap. Your legs having gave out some time ago.

- You’ve lost track of the number of times you’ve cummed, along with him. But Vader still grips your hips ever so tightly with his big, gloved hands. Bruising them, marking you as… “Mine. Mine to use. Mine to destroy.”

- Effortlessly he lifts you on and off his colossal cock. Deliciously splitting you open. Making your stomach bulge from his size…and the amount of cum he’s already pumped into you. “S-So big… S-So full…”

- The noises coming out of your mouth are nothing but whorish. Oh, how you loved being used like this. Your little cervix thoroughly abused. Your tight pussy utterly ruined. “Yes, and you’ll take it all…every last inch, every last drop.”

- The searing heat begins to grow in your core once more. Your walls clenching around him, while he hits that sweet spot inside of you over and over. “M-My lord!” You whined, desperately holding onto his huge arms.

- He lets out a raspy chuckle. “What is it, pet?”

- His voice, that name…they sent shivers of pleasure down your spine. “I-I’m going to…”

- “Cum? Again already?” He asks coldly, his thrust picking up speed. “Such a pathetic, little slut.”

- You whimper as you feel invisible fingers brush against your neglected clit. Toying and teasing the poor nub. Making tears prickle the corners of your eyes. Bringing you closer to your release. “P-Please, my lord! P-Please, let me…”

- “Cum for me then!” He spat, his hips bucking wildly beneath you. “Let me hear your sweet cries!”

- “Ye-Yes, my lord!” You scream as another orgasm overcomes you. Your cunt clamping tightly, your juices soaking his pants, your body falling limp in his strong hold.

- With a deep growl he slams you down hard, driving his cock deeper. Shooting ropes of hot cum into your greedy pussy. Leaving you blissfully sobbing uncontrollably, until…

- A phantom hand squeezes your throat. He guides your hips, lifting you off his length…only to fall back down onto it. You helplessly mewl. You can feel that he’s still painfully hard…that Vader is nowhere near finished using you. “Stop making that pitiful noise. You can easily fit another load inside of that pretty, little womb of yours.”

- “Yes, my lord.”

- You don’t know what occurred, you’ve learned it’s better to not ask questions when it comes to your lord’s comings and goings. Just do as you’re told and happily take everything that’s given to you. Even if it means you’ll be too sore and so impossibly full of his cum that you won’t be able to move for the next day…or two.

[materassassino]

Maybe 'flower' or 'study' for the one-word prompts?

I tried for 'flower', but it wasn't quite working, so I switched to 'study' instead.

One word prompts!

---

Nicolò groans, his head falling forward onto the table. His stylus slips from his fingers, his wax tablet discarded. Yusuf peers at it, eyebrows raised.

“Trouble with the abjad?” he says lightly, a smile dancing on his lips.

Nicolò turns his head, just enough to reveal one eye. Its eyebrow is drawn low in a potent scowl. Yusuf raises his hands in mock defence.

“Peace! I jest!”

Nicolò raises his head, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “How do you do it so effortlessly?” he asks, and if Yusuf did not know him better, he would say that was a pout he was sporting.

“Do what?” Yusuf replies. “I do many things effortlessly: wield my sword, bargain with great skill, write poetry, suck your soul from your prick… you shall have to be more specific.” He cannot help but grin at the blush he gains from his plain speaking. The metaphors and euphemisms of great poetry have their place, but sometimes it pays to have the subtlety of a charging elephant.

“Learn languages,” Nicolò mutters, his flow of thought clearly being dragged forcefully back to where Yusuf’s words made it wander. “Wherever we go you take to the local tongue as if you came from the womb speaking it, and I sound like a simpleton.” He picks up his stylus and pokes at the table top, making tiny holes in it.

It is both the most petulant and the most despondent Yusuf has ever seen him. His Nicolò is a master of patience and hard work, and his dedication usually pays off. To see his frustrations so openly and plainly, well… It feels, in truth, like a privilege. He is humbled by it.

He reaches over and sets his hand on Nicolò’s, stilling his movements.

“You excel at a great many things, Nico,” he says gently. “You take to music quickly. You discern recipes from a single taste. Animals love you, and children too. Your kindness is as boundless as the sky. Show yourself some of the kindness you show others.”

Nicolò looks at him. He does not seem convinced, and Yusuf heart aches.

“We have all been given gifts and aptitudes, and we have all been given shortcomings. You know I cannot hold a tune for all the gold in the world, and every single camel on God’s Earth hates me on sight.”

The corner of Nicolò’s mouth twitches at that.

“They really do hate you,” he says, and Yusuf counts that as a victory.

“It is fine, I have your love to get me by,” he says, waving a hand. “But what I mean is… you work so very hard, my heart. You dedicate yourself to learning and improving, even when it is difficult. I give up too soon when things do not come easily, I have no constancy. You… you keep to the path, even when it is difficult, and you take my hand and guide me well. I admire you greatly for that.”

“I hope at least in your love you will be constant,” Nicolò says tartly, making Yusuf snort inelegantly. He lifts Nicolò’s hand and kisses the knuckles.

“Always.” He raises his eyes. “And will you be patient with yourself, as you are with me?”

Nicolò sighs, quiet for a long moment. “I will be.”

Yusuf beams at him. “Splendid! But enough study for today, let us go out.”

He springs to his feet, pulling Nicolò with him.

“Where to?” Nicolò asks.

“There is something in the market I need you to try. I want the recipe.” Yusuf presses a kiss to Nicolò’s lips before dragging him out into the mid-afternoon sunshine.

[annitrope]

Rose finds her mother passed out

cw: noncon

Rose had spent the better half of the day outside, playing in the snow as any worries she had disappeared. She softly hummed to herself as she walked up to her room, her clothes properly discarded beforehand and leaving her in a simple t-shirt and panties as the house-

heating kept her warm and comfortable.

Gog fucking damn it all to hell.

However, any relaxation immediately left her body as she saw her door ajar, her eye twitched as she pushed it fully open, finding her mother passed out on her bed.

Mom looked comfortable as she rested face first on Rose's bed, her mouth open as she drooled onto the sheets with the blanket awkwardly shoved onto the floor

Like Rose, she was also underdressed, in only her bra and panties as she laid there

Rose took a very deep breath and-

slowly walked over to where her blanket was, picking up the weighted thing, before harshly throwing it onto Mom

“Wake up,” she hissed, glaring at her unconscious form. Mom shifted, before letting out a snore, seemingly unbothered.

“Wake up!” she yelled, starting to shove at her

She gripped her mother's arms and started to shake her, her tiny body unable to deliver the proper force to wake the woman

She huffed, her lips turning down into a pout as she let go of her, walking around the bed until she was staring at her back

She took another deep breath-

and smacked her mother's ass

She watched as her ass jiggled from the recoil. The sight causing her cock to twitch in her pink panties.

Rose quickly licked her lips then dropped her panties onto the floor, kicking them aside as she crawled onto the bed, pressing her cock against Mom as she-

pulled the older woman's panties down, feeling them stick against her mother's cunt.

Her small fist wrapped around her dick as she pumped it slightly, getting herself fully hard before pressing her tip against her hole.

She took a deep breath, before thrusting her hips forward, shoving it into her and moaning as the tight heat immediately surrounded her.

Her hands find their place on her mother's hips as she started to give small thrusts, ever so slightly moving her cock inside of the woman as-

she fucked into her, her teeth digging into her lower lip as she did

“Fuck- so good...” Rose moaned out, her voice cracking as she dugs her nail into her mother's pristine skin

She started to speed up, pressing herself against the larger woman as constant wet smacking sounds-

began to fill up the room

“You're an awful mother, but you do make a good hole.” She said with a giggle, before it broke into a whimper and she sped up more

Her cock twitched as it spurt some precum into her, making her know that she was close to cumming

she fucked into her, her teeth digging into her lower lip as she did

She moved closer, hiking both her legs up onto her as she quite literally mounted her like a horse, not slowing her pace as she did.

Finally, she came, shooting ropes of cum into her mother's hole and womb as her thrusts became more erratic. Once she's done, she goes slack-

falling on top of her as she slowly pulled out.

Rose flopped down onto the floor, her eyes half lidded as she stared up at the ceiling. She softly closed them before she felt a familiar heat surround her dick

“My turn, Rosie <3”

[sweetwriter]

Oh To Love

by Sweetwriter

I often feel like Hephaestus, the throwed away one; the ugly one; the crafter. People only care about the craft and never the crafter. 

I write this story, as a manifestation of a love I would like to receive. 

Hephaestus!Reiner x black reader (at certain points)

this chapter and a couple other chapters are going to be build ups to the love story of Reiner x YN

Heads up: abandonment, self hate, rejection, shame, angst, fluff, maybe smut (later) idk, happy ending :)

This story is based off the poem by Nikola Gill the story of Hephaestus 

“He is dismembered! He will bring shame to my womb” 

Hephaestus hears this conversation, ears pressed against the marble doors.  Looking down at his legs, they didn’t look different to him- I guess it should make sense that the rest of the Pantheon just chooses to completely ignore him. He thought that it was the fact that he wasn't as confident as his brother, Ares or well loved like his half brother, Heracles; nor was he wise like his half sister Athena. But, he thought that people did not mind, he is still young finding his way. 

“You know it is rude to eavesdrop, Hephaestus.” He turns around to see Aphrodite, his aphrodite. He had loved her for as long as he has known what love was. 

“They are talking about my appearance again. How come they never talk about my projects- the very crown she has on her head is a design I created.” He sighs. It has been a time where Hephaestus has conceded that he is gifted in crafts work. He often spent time mining near volcanoes to search for precious gems he will use for his next project. It is nearing his birthday, no one really remembers, so he decided to make a gift for himself.  

“Appearances are everything to an Olympian, we are perfect beings, when one is imperfect, what will that do to the Pantheon” she says softly. Hephaestus notices she often does that, she is harsh with her words and soft with her voice, it does not stop the sting, instead it prolongs it. He is use to the harsh tone. Soft tones are tattooed in his mind forever, for how can forget kindness. But as he grows, he questions whether softness is equivalent to kindness. 

“He looks like a beast because of your transgressions, whoring your love out to whatever you please but your wife. You have put shame on me, and I refuse to accept such thing as a son of mine.” Hera shouted, All Hephaestus saw was his mother storming his way with anger in his face, “mother, what are you” that was all he remembered. 

As he fell that day, all the pain and suffering settled in his chest; The humiliation of being discarded. “Who would want me if Olympus does not desire my presence?” Hephaestus questioned himself for hours as he fell. All the pain and suffering marinating into his bones, the agony wearing down his godly bones. 

He spent his 14th birthday falling from his godliness. His age progressed and his pride of being Olympian diminished.

When he hit the ground his heart rate picked up speed. Gods can not get hurt or feel pain, they say. The agony of falling must’ve weakened his goldy pride because when he fell. Everything held dearly, fell along with that: the pride of being his parent’s child, to be the sibling of all he cares for, the love of another. 

He felt as if his immortal life was over, that there was nothing that he needed to look forward to, all he had to do was aimlessly wander the earth. What he did not expect, was when Hephaestus was thrown off of Olympus and to the mortal realm, he experienced something he had never experienced, love. 

-

-

-

A/N: HANBDJBFSB sorry it took me so long to get back to writing, I wanted to write all the parts out and then post them individually. I feel less stressed when all the parts are already saved and such. But yeah- leave notes or feedback or anything. maybe even some other mythology x anime ideas. Let me knooooowww

with love,

sweet writer

[metacrisisdoctor]

Lying with this love, that’s where he’ll be

an alien intruder makes itself known in the tyler household. for the @tentoorosemicrofics challenge. i used “icy” as the prompt. cookies for anyone who understands what the title is a refence to!

1.7k. family fluff. post empire of the wolf.

READ ON AO3

Like most things, it will all make sense in retrospect. Or at least some of it will.

The situation is starting to come into focus now, really- the thought of what could be happening so terrifying Rose can only mentally kick herself for letting the Doctor wander off into the snow to get her some aspirin for her cramps.

("Never doubt my love for you, Rose Tyler. This stuff could kill me.")

Well- what she had thought were period cramps.

Cramps have never felt this bad though, and the only thing Rose can focus on is the terrified look on her daughter's face. And the pain. Oh God, the pain. Splitting pain radiating from her womb and spreading, spreading, spreading until she can barely walk over to the sofa, even with Mia holding her arm and leading the way with a patience no teenage girl can muster unless they're really scared.

It's then that is clicks. The only time she's ever felt this pain was seventeen years ago.

She's in labour. And she hadn't even known she was pregnant.

This universe has a sense of humor, doesn't it? Hard to deny that now.

For years Mia had begged them for a sibling, and they'd tried. Of course they had. Many times, without complaint. Sometimes multiple times a day, as due diligence. They had a name picked out and everything, the perfect name. And when the Doctor saw a tiny suit or miniature converse, he couldn't help but bring them home.

They'd tried until they could say that one child was miracle enough, and after a while Mia had contended herself with an orange cat that the Doctor pretended to hate and playdates with Tony.

They were happy. They are happy. 

Happiness comes and goes, however. In this moment, happy is certainly not the term she would use.

The contraction that takes a hold of her is so intense that her knees give out. It increases until she can't help but scream in agony while Mia holds her waist. A drop of sweat falls into Rose's eye and blurs her vision when she opens her eyes. The room seems bigger than it ever has, the couch never so bloody fucking stupidly far.

"Don't die," Mia whimpers. Rose can feel her daughter's arms trembling, and she knows she's crying. There is nothing Rose wants more than to comfort her, to stand up straight and tell her that she's fine. That she isn't dying. But she can barely string together three words.

Three words are better than none, "I'm gonna alright." 

Mia sniffles, "I love you, Mummy."

And blimey, Mia hasn't called her anything other than "Mum" or "whatever," in ages. It's enough to to make her laugh, tears springing to her eyes at how young Mia sounds. But it makes her heart hurt too. Mia really thinks she’s watching her die. 

The pain ebbs into a dull ache, giving her enough reprieve to say those words back and keep moving. When they finally make it to the sofa, Rose pulls her phone from her pocket to call her husband. Her hands are slick with sweat and the device slips from her hands like butter and clatters to the floor.

Rose curses, taking a deep breath. "I need you to call your father. He should be back soon, he just went to the store but we should warn him... before he gets home."

Mia's eyes are as wide as saucers despite the sleep lines on her face and her messy braid. Guilt twists inside Rose again. She had hoped this, whatever it was, wouldn't wake her. But it did, of course it did. She was having a baby for Christ's sake.

"Warn him about what?! We don't even know what's wrong. We have to get to the hospital."

A furious shake of the head has Mia's mouth closing back up. She lifts her hips and starts tugging her sweatpants down. "No time. Baby's coming."

"Baby?! Since when are you pregnant?!"

"Hell if I know!"

Just then fresh, freezing air spreads throughout the room, cooling Rose's burning skin as the Doctor bursts through the door. The small bag of pain killers and crisps in his hand looks equal parts ridiculous and terribly endearing. He has snow on his shoulders, piled on the blue wool of his coat, soaking his cotton jim jams and stuck to his hair.

He's panting like he's been running, his own terrified expression mirroring Mia's- but it's clear that he heard every last bit of their exchange before opening the door.

"I already called him," Mia explains, tapping her temple a bit smugly, "with my mind."

Before Rose can respond something cheeky about their alien mind connection the pain rips through her again, and she slides off the sofa and onto the floor with a groan. She tastes blood and realizes she's biting her cheek. 

Snow tracks across the room as he makes his way over to them. He quickly shrugs off the coat and kneels on the floor in front of his wife. His hands are cold as ice and Rose flinches when he gently touches her thigh, then leans down to have a look.

"Oh hello," he croons, before looking back up and smiling widely. "You're crowning. I can see the head. Looks like I'm right on time for once."

"I didn't know," Rose sobs, thinking of all the glasses of wine she's had. The prenatal pills she should have taken- especially at her age. It's hard to know exactly how old she is anymore, but above forty is a good guess. She thinks of the spotting she had taken as her period, as menopause kicking in.

The small, tiny bulge that she had thought was bloating. But it was a baby, their baby, somehow hidden away in her own body.

How could she have been so blind?

"Rose, I know what you're thinking but it's alright. None of us knew. But I don't think our child wants to be ignored any longer, eh?"

They share a small smile and Mia nods in agreement, pushing the sweaty hair away from her mothers face. Rose attempts to pull her hand from Mia's but the teenager refuses to let go, determined. "I'm not leaving."

It's all goes so fast then, nothing like her seventeen hour long labour of years past. The silence of the night is filled with the sounds of one small, (mostly) human life making it's way home.

"Come on, you're doing so well. Just one big one for me."

Her red, blotchy face scrunches as she pushes one more time.

"I'll catch you," the Doctor says, and she knows he's not talking to her anymore. Suddenly, she really really want to meet her baby. It's as if she can't wait another second to hold them. Besides her Mia gasps and let's go of her hand, finally, to whip off her favourite pink hoodie for the Doctor to wrap the baby in.

Just like that it's over. Her husband makes a sound of victory, between a sob and cheer. The room is suspiciously silent though, and she sits up straighter, trying to get a look at them despite her pain and confusion. The entire room smells like copper.

Her voice is raw and trembling when she speaks, "Why isn't he crying?"

He's so small, the chock of brown hair on his head the only thing making him seem bigger than he is. 

Fear contracts around her heart like scar tissue, old memories of children they have both lost in their time apart bubbling to the surface of the ocean of her mind and threatening to pull them down into an abyss she doesn't know if they could ever come back from. She watches as the Doctor rubs circles on the baby's back, his face tense. After what feels like an eternity, a piercing cry fills the room.

"That's more like it," the Doctor chuckles, his voice thick with unshed tears. Relief courses through her entire being, her arms opening instinctively. "I think he was asleep."

It makes sense doesn't it? At least in her mind it does. Mia had been non-stop energy, dancing on her bladder at all times. Takes after her father. Maybe this one shares her love for sleeping in. But even if he doesn't, she doesn't mind one bit.

"Where have you been hiding?" She murmurs as their son is place on her chest, wrapped in his sisters love, delivered from his father's hands. The three of them sit in stunned, awed silence until he settles, making small snuffled sounds into Rose's sternum. 

Mia's words are accompanied by a small giggle. "A little stowaway, he is." She tugs the fabric that obscures his slimey little face down to run a fingertip over his features, amazed that her little brother has finally made an appearance.

Rose marvels at how well the Doctor is taking this, how perfect the timing is. He had been so afraid to be a father again. If it hadn't been for Tony, maybe he would have been able to open his heart to this part of himself again, but she's so glad he did. Fatherhood fits him like a glove, like he was born for it. But if Mia had been a surprise, she doesn't know how he would have reacted. 

Everything worked out just as it should have, it seems.

In a few moments they will rush to the hospital, they'll call Jackie and tell her there won't be a Christmas party this year after all. There will be months of nappy changes, and sleepless nights and guilt followed by comfort. By happiness. By love. Always, always love.

Now, at three in the morning, there is a moment of complete serenity as snow continues to fall around their townhouse. The fireplace crackles. All old wounds heal.

A family of four, propped on the floor, nestled safely in their home.

"It's good to finally meet you, Jack." the Doctor whispers then leans toward and presses a kiss to Rose's brow, then one to Mia's before making his way back down to the newest member of their family. "And don't you dare let your grandmother think we named you after her. I'll tell you now, in fact, at two minutes old, that you were named after-"

—

Somewhere in a world not much different than their own, Captain Jack Harkness suddenly looks up at the sky and smiles.

He doesn't know why.

[riearchivistfornow]

Life: Is there meaning?

TX service 2014.09.13

Life: is there a meaning?

In life, things are very difficult, but we want to make our life count. Is there meaning in life? Life is a never ending cycle, sometimes we think "Hey, life is way too meaningless."

Ecclesiastes 1:2 NIV

“Meaningless! Meaningless!” says the Teacher. “Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless.”

Questions: 1) Is there a purpose for my life? Yes.

Jeremiah 29:11 NIV

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord , “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Ephesians 2:10 NIV

For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

God's hands were at work personally, to make you. God does not create junk. And because God created you, you are not junk. Are you then sure that God has a purpose for you?

Jeremiah 20:18 NIV

Why did I ever come out of the womb to see trouble and sorrow and to end my days in shame?

This was said by a great prophet. Life has troubles, but why are we set into this?

John 16:33 NIV

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

God has a plan for you.

2) Where can I find my purpose? It is tricky to find this, why? Simply because you call it as if it belongs to you. You cannot figure out your purpose in life within yourself. For as this is true; that the more you look for the purpose inside of you, the further you'll be from finding it.

Colossians 1:16 NIV

For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him.

If you were born two-three thousand years ago, and you pick up a mobile phone of today, you would never know if you just press and play around with it. To know what it can fully do, you need to either go to the creator of it, or to go back to the instruction manual. You have to go back to the creator to get the entire picture. If you look into yourself to find meaning, do not look into yourself.

Jeremiah 17:9 NIV

The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?

Jeremiah 17:9 NIV

The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?

We are double-minded people who cannot make up our minds. If you want to find a purpose, it is about going back to the creator.

Ephesians 1:11-12 NIV

In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will, in order that we, who were the first to put our hope in Christ, might be for the praise of his glory.

3) How do I find this purpose? How? Simple, head back to the creator who had created you.

Revelation 3:20 NIV

Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.

Some of you think that life is so empty and that there is nothing in you, but when you go back to God, your emptiness will be filled in.

Proverbs 11:28 NIV

Those who trust in their riches will fall, but the righteous will thrive like a green leaf.

A life that has been shaped by God will thrive. When Adam and Eve sinned and started to do what they wanted, looking into yourself, they turned their backs away from our Heavenly Father. This is why you feel that life is meaningless. Despite this, God knew this and sent his Son down to take out place.

John 3:16 NIV

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

Do not let your eyes fool you, God can do greater things.

Romans 8:38-39 NIV

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Nothing will EVER separate you from the love of God.

[steveezekiel]

PREDESTINATION 3

"BRING all who claim me as their God, FOR I HAVE MADE THEM FOR MY GLORY. It was I who created them.’ ” Isaiah 43:7 (NLT)

God's election, or choosing, or picking out, is always based on the heart of each individual person; either a believer or an unbeliever.

God knew that Ruth, the daughter-in-law of Naomi, had a right heart, and would embrace the God of Israel. Thus, He prepared her to be fitted into the lineage of David which eventually was the lineage through which Jesus Christ, the Messiah of the whole world, had come.

God could have chosen an Israelite for the purpose, but He works with the heart of each individual.

Likewise in the case of the widow in Zarephath whom God chose to care for Elijah at time of drought. Jesus mentioned it: 25 BUT I TELL YOU TRULY, MANY WIDOWS WERE IN ISRAEL IN THE DAYS OF ELIJAH, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months, and there was a great famine throughout all the land; 26 BUT TO NONE OF THEM WAS ELIJAH SENT EXCEPT TO ZAREPHATH, IN THE REGION OF SIDON, TO A WOMAN WHO WAS A WIDOW" (Luke 4:25,26 NKJV).

God's election or choosing is not done through partiality or favouritism, but the condition of a person's heart (Romans 2:11).

The fact that nothing is hidden from God, He knows the intent of your heart—He knows what you would do in the years to come (2 Kings 8:10-13).

God knew you before you were formed in the womb, and born (Jeremiah 1:5). He knew what you would do when you get to the planet Earth. It was on that axiom or premise He decided and preplanned what you would be used for.

Note: those predestined, according to God's foreknowledge, for destruction, could receive mercy; If they chose to change their minds or hearts and embrace God's Will: "IN THE SAME WAY, EVEN THOUGH GOD HAS THE RIGHT TO SHOW HIS ANGER AND HIS POWER, HE IS VERY PATIENT WITH THOSE ON WHOM HIS ANGER FALLS, WHO ARE DESTINED FOR DESTRUCTION" (Romans 9:22 NLT).

God can choose to be patient and had mercy on the object or candidate of Judgement or destruction. Albeit, God already knew the object of Judgement or destruction would not change, thus, He concluded to use them for the purpose of destruction, like he did of Pharaoh the King of Egypt (Exodus 3:19,20; 5:2; 9:16; Romans 9:16).

If you were saved, born-again, and did find favour in the sight of God, know that It is not of works, but God's mercy (Ephesians 2:8,9; 1 Timothy 1:13,15,16; 2 Timothy 1:9).

Some are with the notion that, since they were predestined to be saved, or predestined for salvation, they could live a carefree life and would not lose the salvation.

Salvation can be lost. Someone who laboured to preach to others, or lead others to God, could later be a cast away at the end. But that would not be your portion in Jesus' name.

However, If that would not happen to you, you take precautions. Apostle Paul said: "I DISCIPLINE MY BODY LIKE AN ATHLETE, TRAINING IT TO DO WHAT IT SHOULD. OTHERWISE, I FEAR THAT AFTER PREACHING TO OTHERS I MYSELF MIGHT BE DISQUALIFIED" (1 Corinthians 9:27 NLT).

"RATHER, I TOUGHEN MY BODY WITH PUNCHES AND MAKE IT MY SLAVE SO THAT I WILL NOT BE DISQUALIFIED AFTER I HAVE SPREAD THE GOOD NEWS TO OTHERS" (1 Corinthians 9:27 GOD’S WORD Translation).

Do not choose those who are objects of destructions as your friends. Friendship is by choice, by the act of wise choosing, and not by Force.

Know that some are destined for destructions. It is not everyone that would accept or embrace the gift of salvation prepared and offered by God through faith in the substitutionary death and resurrection of Christ Jesus.

If your relationship with someone is taking or dragging you away from God, wisdom demands that you dissociate with such: 17 THEREFORE, COME OUT FROM AMONG UNBELIEVERS, AND SEPARATE YOURSELVES FROM THEM, SAYS THE LORD. Don’t TOUCH THEIR FILTHY THINGS, AND I WILL WELCOME YOU. 18 AND I WILL BE YOUR FATHER, AND YOU WILL BE MY SONS AND DAUGHTERS, SAYS THE LORD ALMIGHTY” (2 Corinthians 6:17,18 NLT).

If someone wanted to influence you negatively against God's plan for your your life, I would advice you to flee for your life: "RUN FROM ANYTHING THAT STIMULATES YOUTHFUL LUSTS. INSTEAD, PURSUE RIGHTEOUS LIVING, FAITHFULNESS, LOVE, AND PEACE. ENJOY THE COMPANIONSHIP OF THOSE WHO CALL ON THE LORD WITH PURE HEARTS" (2 Timothy 2:22 NLT)..

You are chosen by God to walk with Him; relate and fellowship with Him: "BUT YOU ARE A CHOSEN GENERATION, A ROYAL PRIESTHOOD, A HOLY NATION, HIS OWN SPECIAL PEOPLE, THAT YOU MAY PROCLAIM THE PRAISES OF HIM WHO CALLED YOU OUT of DARKNESS INTO HIS MARVELOUS LIGHT" (1 Peter 2:9 NKJV).

You will not be destroyed in Jesus' name.

I have been inspired to pray for the sick in all our Teachings, thus, If you have any ailment in your body, receive this prayers by faith:

I release the healing power of God on your life now, in the name of Jesus Christ.

Hold of sicknesses is broken in your life in Jesus' name. And you are completely made whole in Jesus' name. Peace!

STEPS TO SALVATION

Take notice of this: IF you are yet to take the step of salvation, that is, yet to be born-again, do it now, tomorrow might be too late (2 Corinthians 6:1,2; Hebrews 3:7,8,15). a. Acknowledge that you are a sinner and confess your Sins (1 John 1:9); And ask Jesus Christ to come into your life (Revelation 3:20). b. Confess that you believe in your heart that Jesus Christ is Lord, and that you confess it with your mouth, Thus, you accept Him As your Lord and Saviour (Romans 10:9,10). c. Ask that He will write your name in the Book of Life (Philippians 4:3; Revelation 3:8).

If you took the steps As highlighted above, It means you are saved—born-again. Join a Word based church in your area and Town or city, and be part of whatever they are doing there. Peace!

[inflorescent-sunflower]

TW: Ranty Af, so preceed with caution because I'll try but ye.. existential dread, depression, anxiety, C-PTSD, DID. Lmk if I need to tag more.

That constant feeling of why the fuck am I here that haunts our very existantence is exhausting...like maybe it's just the depression but honestly...is this what life is all about? Getting up, forcing myself to eat, going to work so that I don't die on the street or of starvation... simply existing until those little moments of light appear in order to string me along likeba dog on a treadmill, chasing that feeling of joy, dreading the feeling that everything is pointless that I can't escape. Like I know i make a difference in people's lives and yadadada but what's the fucking point! Like yea they're happy and healthy which fills me with a spark of contentness as i drown in the constant feeling of dread that everything i do doesn't fuckin matter. I could work my ass off in order to just meet my basic needs and still end up with nothing and listen i get it; "it's better to try and fail then to not try at all" or some bs like that but I'm tired. I literally hate this fucking place. I don't even mean my country, this fuckin planet is beautiful and here I stand contributing to it's destruction just by trying to survive in this hellacape we've made.

Like from day fucking one it's been a fight to survive in a world I didn't fucking ask to be in, constantly feeling like I've been punished for something I haven't even thought of doing, let alone done!

I struggle and struggle and struggle and get fuckin rewarded like a godamn dog, basking in the happiness but dreading the next time I'm forced into the ring. Trying not to bite the hand that feeds me.

I'm so sick of hearing, well you have this and be grateful and it's like awesome amazing! Pointing out the good in my life does not erase the bad and I can't just let it go because something that's harmed me in such a way, something that has probably driven me insane...it can't be just because other people we're having a shitty life. Our trauma that we've been forced to carry since the fuckin womb isn't even about us!!? My life, our very existence is such a fuckfest because SOMEONE ELSE WAS HAVING A BAD DAY?! It's almost funny.

It just seems more and more pointless because who knows in a week I may feel different, for a week and then we'll repeat this endless cycle of joy(life is a great gift, i want to make a difference, i am loves) and despair (I never asked for this, nothing i do matters, I'm a burden for breathing). It doesn't matter what's going on around me it all follows some godamn pattern, an endless wheel that I'm supposed to just accept! I'm supposed to just accept that shit happens and pick up the tatteded remains of our life, again and again!

I'm not planning to off myself because unfortunately that's not a solution to the problem. Death is not the solution to lives difficulties, love may be but that's not enough.

When you're constantly trying to combat the hatred of others with the love of the self it's fucking exhausting.

I'm raging inside but can't express it and have to fight the constant urge to turn it towards myself because I've received enough blame and hatred for things out of my control and i refuse to add to my abuse BUT all that doesn't erase the years and years and years and YEARS of abuse, self inflicted or otherwise.

I've been trying to heal but...it feels like I'm filled with holes, each one different sizes and shapes and I'm struggling to fill them with something, anything in order to avoid the whole picture falling apart and I know I need to figure out some sustainable materials but I don't even know where to begin and the materials I have used may have caused more damage...

I'm not throwing in the towel by any means but... everyday feels harder and harder to keep it all together.

We want to scream and punch and, hurt but at the same time we want to sing, and learn and heal but these two urges are trying to coexist in a mind that doesn't know how to do either.

Basically: This constant struggle to want to exist, to want to be here is exhausting and is not helped by the conflicting wants of the mind/body we share

[chorusfm]

Vanderwolf – “The 6.09” (Video Premiere)

Today I’m thrilled to bring everyone the latest video from Psych-folk artist, Vanderwolf, called “The 6.09.” The track is the second single off of Vanderwolf’s new album, The Great Bewilderment, out everywhere music is sold on March 13th. If you’re enjoying the latest single, please consider visiting the artist’s Bandcamp page here. I was also able to catch up with this talented songwriter for a brief interview below. You have had an extensive career managing live events, how has your career experience impacted your approach to music? My career as a musician precedes my producing live concerts and festival — and my life as a music-lover started straight out of the womb, so producing events is a comparatively brief but significant window. But there are many  things I observed and learned. Lessons that are stories and vice-versa. For instance, I had asked Jeff Beck to perform a 3-night career retrospective at the Royal Festival Hall in 2002. Initially, enthused about the idea, it all came to a crashing halt when I raised the possibility — if fact, the necessity–  of Jeff performing the music he made with the Yardbirds. I was a massive fan and I knew what it would mean to London music fans were it to happen. Jeff was not happy, and as politely as possible, he explained why it couldn’t happen — and how the original remaining members were simply not up for the viscerality of that body of music. I already had a plan. I asked- Jeff, what if I were to get the White Stripes to be your White Stripes?” His eyes lit up and he said if you can make that happen I’ll do it. I knew Jack a little bit– and I knew him enough to know he’d love to do it. So months later, and two days before the show, we blocked out two days of rehearsal in the Queen Elizabeth Hall. Anticipation was huge. And the vibe was great when Jack, Meg and bassist Jack Lawrence showed up. They immediately launched into Heart of Stone, Better Man Than I, I Aint Done Wrong. It was thrilling. I think they played everything one time. And almost simultaneously Jeff and Jack said, ”I think that’s good”. And that was it…they’d decided that being under-rehearsed was going to enable the most live and visceral performance possible — and they were absolutely correct. The set they performed that night was some of the most incredible live music I’ve ever heard….it was on the verge of falling apart and it was beautiful. They were listening intensely. Their eye contact was vital. They perfectly captured the essence and energy of the Yardbirds’ youthful recklessness. I learned something very valuable that night. There were lots of lessons like that I learned watching Ornette Coleman or Patti Smith or whoever.  Where did the idea for “The 6.09” come from, and what did it look and sound like as it came together in the studio? Well there’s The 6.09 song, and there’s the 6.09 video — and I think they address 2 very different but overlapping subjects. The song began as most of my  songs do, through things I was learning on the guitar. I can’t remember what it was at the time but as soon as that picking pattern and that chord sequence arose– I knew there was a story told. Story-songs are really hard to write. I was not happy. But there was no escaping it. The tune was begging for a narrative. I was still smarting after quite a few difficult years in my working life. I’d been banging my head against the wall and my bitterness was not a secret. SO my revenge was this story which is about work and what work does to us. It’s about how the workplace sets up political divides in its quest for self-perpetuation and validation. It’s about how quickly we become victims of our ambitions.But the video, conceived and directed by Alden Volney, addresses how social media and specifically, those relaxation videos, sedate us and distract us from an increasingly self-destructing world. Strangely, it’s a lot of fun. What does your songwriting process look like? It happens two ways. Typically, there’s something I’m trying… https://chorus.fm/features/vanderwolf-the-6-09-video-premiere/

[umbrayon]

You'd never thought you'd let it get this far.

Legs spread, panties off, my cock head pressed against your soaked pussy. You know that there's only one way this can go at this point, but that didn't have to be the case. We'd been having girls night for years and everything was normal. But a few months ago, something had changed.

It had started with the movies I'd pick. They'd drifted towards romance, and as the stories grew more and more intimate, the characters grew less and less clothed. You could have said something, but the movies were genuinely captivating, and it's not like it had to mean anything.

Just like our touching didn't have to mean anything. It was normal to hug each other. Cuddling while we watched our movies was just an extension of that. And if you felt me stiffen, so what? The movies were hot.

And our kissing didn't have to mean anything, either. A little peck on the cheeks is normal between friends- anyone who'd complain about that is reading way too far into it. And a little peck on the lips is basically as fine. Maybe a little less common, but we'd been friends for years. It's only natural we'd express our friendship a little more intensely than usual.

That was around the point where you stopped being able to justify it, though. The first couple times I lingered on one of our kisses, you thought it was strange. After that, when I started kissing more firmly, trying to kiss deeper and more intently, you could tell I was after more than just friendship. You didn't want to end it, though, and it's not like anyone had to know. Not like you hadn't been just a little curious over the years.

So you let it happen. And then you let groping your ass while we kissed happen. Let making out during the movie happen. Let touching you over your panties, under your panties, eating you out happen.

Then, you started taking the initiative. You weren't just letting things happen- you were making them happen. Kissing me out of nowhere, "forgetting" your underwear and making any excuse to bend over in front of me. But even when you were routinely getting on your knees to give me head while we watched our movies, you still clung to the excuse that we'd never crossed that final line.

You still did feel some amount of guilt. What we'd been doing wasn't okay. But you'd been able to convince yourself it wasn't really cheating. That you'd never let me go too far.

Except you had. You will. Staring up at me, breaths heavy with anticipation, you wait for me to drag you over the line. To thrust into you, cementing you unambiguously as a cheater, taking you for myself.

Eagerly, I oblige. I press into you, resting my hips against yours and letting us both get used to the feeling. I slowly drag myself out, then just as slowly sink back in, settling into a languid rhythm. You moan as our descent into depravity finally claims you.

I kiss you, filling your mouth with me as I start thrusting faster. My hands are grabbing you wherever they can, my fingers digging into your soft skin. I break the kiss and stare into your eyes, my expression betraying my fast-approaching orgasm. There's still time to pull out, to try to salvage some semblance of fidelity.

You can't have that.

You lock your legs around my waist and hold me in place as you grind into me. I groan as my lust finally boils over. You feel me throb as I deposit my load into you unprotected, claiming your womb with my cum. I collapse on top of you, panting, and smile. We gently begin making out as I pull out of you, my cum leaking onto the couch.

You've given yourself to me. And you can't wait to see how far we'll fall.

[una-guanabana]

🍁Love and other words🍁

My heart is positively bleeding, in the best of ways.

This kind of feeling is what made me fall in love with reading. It’s amazing how picking my next read will make entire universes explode inside my chest.

I picked this book and was expecting just a cute, lovely romance story of two best friends watching in awe and dread their friendship transforming into something fiercer. Hungrier. Tender.

But this book went beyond my expectations.

There are a LOT of love stories going on in here.

I would like to mention my attention by the end of the book was on Macy and Elliot’s love story but also on the deepest and purest love Duncan had for Macy.

The book poke at my heart when Macy remember how her Dad would hug her mom, my heart melted when she said.

“His arms became a set of parentheses bracketing the sweetest secret phrase.”

This got me all teary eyed.

I would like also to mention a couple of lines that definitely got me sobbing, from the letters Macy’s mom left for her.

When she wrote:

“Every inch of your skin I made diligently, months I slaved over you. You are my master piece.”

My mother made a letter to me for when I turned 15 and this got me all emotional. Not just because I remember my own letter but because it’s indescribable beautiful how her mom declares she’s her master piece. How she dedicated months to take care of her on her womb.

💗Duncan and Macy💗

Their story is by far the greatest love story in this book, for me. The love a father has for her daughter is so tender, full of protectiveness and knows no limits. How he stopped smoking since her mom was pregnant was one of the most “simple” but heart exploding gestures he had with them.

Also the fact he learned how to do her hair even for special occasions. 🥹💗

The fact that he used his wife’s list of how to raise Macy as a Bible has my heart twisting in awe.

It was so so sad finding out what had happened on New Years to him. I couldn’t stop crying.

I knew Elliot had done something stupid like hooking up with Emma. But also felt like there was more to that night and the fact that Macy kept saying she didn’t like to drive gave me some idea she had been in a car accident… what I did not even imagine was it was this awful.

My best friend broke my heart 12 years ago (so you can imagine the shock it caused me to read something so alike), and it was me who blocked him everywhere even after he texted me “I love you.” We were fourteen at the time and haven’t really talked ever since. It was such a non sense thing I realized five years later how deeply it hurt to have lost him. I miss him still. But my heart ache can’t compare to what Macy went through. I could comprehend why she didn’t contact him again. But to know the truth… everything made sense then.

When she explains why she “hated” him and couldn’t find it in herself to forgive him. When she says that him hooking up with Emma was the least I knew something else had happened. But it was a low to the heart to read what happened.

I think I would have felt the same, feeling guilty about not making the call to let him know what had happened or staying the night. It happened so fast all of a sudden I couldn’t believe what was happening.

I keep Duncan Sorensen in my heart with what Macy said about him:

“I like your kind of quiet. Your heart isn’t quiet.”

I also loved that her mom was Brazilian and her dad was Danish. 🫰🏼

As someone who’s figuring out how to be an adult there was a frequent conversation with my friends about falling into routines and how tedious life can get. And then I get to the end of this book where although Macy has this demanding and time consuming job which she handled just fine with Sean, she finds herself excited to do all of it knowing she’ll be waking up to Elliot’s company every morning and coming back to him at night. And it just struck me how the right person can make everything much more lighter, funnier and exciting. How finding your person makes life so much more meaningful. How Macy gets this feeling of fulfillment when she knows his clothes, his toothbrush and his BOOKS are in the same apartment and they will be really sharing a life together.

I loved the Petropoulos Family, because it was big and loving and noisy.

Elliot’s words at his brother’s wedding were so beautiful.

“But everyone who knows us knows we have one important thing in common. When we love, we love for good.”

And…

“Else, welcome to our family. I can’t promise that it will ever be quiet, but I can promise that you will never be so loved as when you come home to us.”

I wasn’t expecting this to be so… INTENSE.

It was not just Macy and Elliot’s story.

Which by the way is so wholesome. I love it when love stories have strong and meaningful based reasons to happen. They were best friends, and as Macy says, he was her first Best Everything. They connected through the books and that is so perfect (for a book worm like me) and perfect in general. He gives her a book so she can remember her mom and feel whatever she need to feel about her not being with her anymore, and adds books to her library because he knows she’s gonna like them. He was always all understanding and sweet.

As she said

“Girls do want boys who are interesting. Girls want the shy geeks who know everything and have big hands and good teeth and say sweet things.”

With all of that said, yes this was a really emotional and wholesome reading. I’m thankful I read it.

[luvpogl-music]

And although the numbers on a calendar make seem so long, for the things we are speaking of tonight the shape of the night stars had not hardly changed even once. And in another part of small town, nowhere USA a mother rushed to the hospital by her beau anxious and excited to bring their first into this world early on a sunny fall like winters day. Anxious with anticipation the young couple eagerly arrived at the hospital waiting for the arrival of that newborn child.

Enthusiasm overtook the air of the room as there was nothing they could do but wait, the mother at one point ordering her husband to make the doctor just pull it out. As sweet and innocent as we all believe girls to be; this child brought with it a fight; refusing to leave the womb she had made home for the last nine months. Finally thought after hours of back and forth into the world was born a beautiful and healthy baby girl to trouble their world.

Overjoyed by the presence of new life, not long after she was born a proud grandmother offered to keep her a night that the young couple could get some sleep; for this little girl did not want to spend much of her time in her crib, only mother's and father's arms seemed to comfort her making the days and nights bleed together with little to no sleep. One Saturday afternoon just before Christmas had come the couple eager for some time alone, rushed that little girl to grandmothers house before breakfast was done. Excited by the chance they did not stay long as they did not want the offer to be taken from them before they got out of the driveway.

But, something was different with the little girl in her grandmother's presence. The baby girl wanted to move around and explore as much as a child that young can, trying to kick her legs with smiles and laughs as grandma sat and gazed. They sat and talked the entire afternoon, not as babies, but as adults do although the little girl could only make coos; the wise grandmother had much knowledge to impart on her that day; the feeling of time starting to slip from her.

The dark of night came far too son as is the case during the months of moon and after dinner they shared the joys of a snowfall under a crisp star accompanied moon. More tired then the young girl, grandma got her to agree to lay down and soon after slumber she fell into with a peace she had not know since she came into this cold world comforted partly by the warm glow of Christmas Tree lights by her crib. After making sure the child was well tucked in and warm, she too made off for bed too as the fireplace gave off the last of its ember glow both baby and grandmother drifted into a slumber they hadn't felt.

The snow and wind turned to blizzard conditions that night and as the fire had gone out, the chill in the room caused the elder women to stir about in her sleep. She forced herself out from the blankets to check on the child and turn up the heat as the thermostat had dropped another few degrees. Standing by the child's bed as the nostrils of dragons filled the air with warmth from the fire they burned in the basement below, the magic matron picked up the babe and walked to the window in the room where the drapes still hung rent in twain from earlier in the day.

While the wind blew heavier and the snow covered the stars and moon, the grandmother began to sing an ancient chant to the young girl that the world has long forgot, although some think they know, at the beginning it was established that each clan keep their own secrets from thieves. Approaching the window, the grandmother threw open the latches and the snow and wind began to drive their way in. With the first gush of air taking her breath the little old lady grew twice as tall as she'd ever been seen to be and her form conformed to that of a witch. Not the pretty ones or even evil one's like in Disney movies kids, something much, much worse then you can imagine as cold ran through her veins.

The little girl not once cried or showed a bit of fear even as fire roared in the distant hills that surrounded that tiny house they were in. Staring up in her eyes with the stare of excitement and surprise the witch grabbed the child by her ankle and held her high into the storm while beginning to chant in that ancient tongue again saying things that seemed to make the weather fight back with rage more and more. Watching to see tears or find screams from the little girls lungs, she seemed pleased there were none and as the snow turned to ice and began to pelt at their skin she pulled the child back into her and grinned. Yes, it is you that shall be blessed; making sure the magic will not die with me.

Pulling the girl into her bosom she continued in a whisper directed to the child's ear saying nothing but this.

"The blood of Eve runs through your veins deep and that is the mark that shall set you apart from everybody else. Only one can carry that magic through the world, and with you it shall rest when I can no longer bare its cross. From the tribe of Seth your name is claimed as it was Eve's blessing that watched over them, her youngest son, keeping them untouched by the sin of blood that covered the Earth. Now rest my child, this is your burden to bare; your cross whether you choose it or not; of this we will never speak as all but one have been born to steal it. This young lady is the gift of the Jews, passed on to you".

And as she put the you baby girl back in her crib all snuggled in she saw the little girl grin as her form changed back into her grandmother again. Smiling and giving a child a kiss goodnight, she warned as she walked out the door, be careful though little one, with great magic comes great struggle and battles. Now rest easy young one as the hand of God watches over your life.

With that the grandmother slipped back to her rocking chair and fell back into sleep as though nothing had happened. The little soon too fell asleep under the trance of Christmas tree lights sleeping well through the night.

[Well, we have more to the story of these two kids, a somewhere boy and a somewhere girl; for they have yet to even speak, but for now let's just leave them with this peace and I don't know about you, but I plan to investigate this Bible tribe thing as I've never heard it before, but I do know if my grandfather said it, it must be true].