#final couple of days

[kiisaes]

tgck for yuri day 💗 (6/25)

[kirby-the-gorb]

[dearabsolutelynoone]

I cried. I threw up. I shook. I climbed the walls. I cried some more. I tore my hair out. I saw the light. I was on the brink of death. And I cried even more. Charlotte and George were everything and then some. Like my brain chemistry has been permanently altered. I will never be the same. Every time I think about them I’m launched into a brand new mental breakdown. I don’t know how I will recover from this.

[waldgeister]

Feuer frei! - German Fields - July 2k24 for more visit: https://500px.com/p/lutzheidbrink

[benevolenterrancy]

May your hardened heart be woken By the soft and distant song Of all you left here unspoken All the shards we keep stepping on - Take this body home Take this body home Call the wind, and let her know Take this life outgrown Take this broken soul Call the stars, call them all And take it high, take it far, take it home

[nebulaeyedfish]

I heard we're talking about PMD AUs? Soup Group PMD AU? Soup Group PMD AU.

I've had a Gem Centric pmd au bubbling in my mind for a few weeks that I'm enjoying thinking about. Gem's a human who wakes up as a chikorita after being found by actual Pokémon Pearl and Impulse, who are part of an exploration guild. they take her under their wing while she trys to figure out who she is, what happened to her, and why.

I've got ideas for a couple of other hermits as well (Especially Doc, Ren, Scar and Joel lol) so I might try get a few more down at some point :)

Tags: @imflyingfish @swanofstorie @raise-me-up-take-me-up

[cherryblossomfaewilds]

"i don't believe in god otacon so you're the only one to whom i can pray" hideo kojima set this in front of everyone's eyes in the year of our lord 2008 i can barely believe mgs4 is real

[warrior-of-sunlight]

[obsob]

peace n love on th planet cat (all are prints! for ur loves! link )

[a2zillustration]

One last night together before everything changes :')

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[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

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[samglyph]

Leader

Tip Jar

[bloobydabloob]

Alternative hairstyle ideas for Roxy

[xiaobaosnoona]

he's fluffing the pillow (let me repeat: fluffing the pillow)

@asiandramanet creator bingo - free choice

[stevebabey]

this is pure stupid hell crack that took more time than it should’ve to finish BUT i’m ready 2 release it from my drafts <3 this is actually technically written partially w @corrodedcoughin in mind bcos i think u will mighty enjoy it! for cockney eddie!

It comes with the territory, the accents.

Drama kid or dungeon-master, either one could be credited with contributing heavily to his affinity for all of Eddie’s little voices.

There was the deep, low raspy one reserved for trolls in campaigns — and a nasally high one he used for goblins to pair. Wise wizards giving out crucial advice sometimes had a strong Scottish drawl to their words. And Dwarfs? Always English.

So, yeah, Eddie has a couple different accents in his different repertoire. Pulls them out as he needs — a regal tone when referring to Hawkin’s very own royalty or a buried Southern twang used when he’s in trouble with Wayne. The most common is a shoddy Cockney accent for when any conversation dips too far towards awkward or boring.

It's why it's not so surprising anymore when they just... slip out sometimes.

He's learned more now, when specifically not to do it (Mrs. Donnell had not found his plea for a re-sit, in a heavy Irish accent, endearing in the slightest). But with friends who know Eddie, they know the accents come along too.

Steve fucking loves them.

The first time one had taken over his voice, some New Yorker twang to carry a joke, Steve had laughed so hard he’d snorted. And god, had Eddie lit up at the noise— loved knowing that, deep down Steve Harrington had a delicious wonderful ugly laugh that he only showed to people he trusted.

Basically, it’s hardly news to Steve then, all of Eddie’s little voices.

But well, even Eddie didn’t expect… okay, the truth is he never expected to be in this situation at all.

It’s a Wednesday evening when it happens. Steve is over round the trailer like he is every Wednesday, keeping Eddie company while Wayne is out on the double night shift.

It originally had started out as ensuring wounds were checked and dressed properly — considering half of them had scaled up his back, where Eddie couldn’t reach — for the both of them. Then, when technically Eddie could manage the worst of his words, Steve was still coming around. Dustin’s insistence, he’d said.

Then it was… because Eddie asked Steve to come around, to stay a little longer.

So, Steve Harrington is in his kitchen and it’s a Wednesday ritual that they have together and that’s not even the weird part of the evening.

(And somehow, neither is the fact that Steve is, as of a few months ago, his boyfriend.)

Steve’s cooking. Something simmers low on the scarlet glowing hob, bubbling quietly and releasing aromas of spices that percolate into the Autumn evening air.

Eddie feels his stomach growl in its own twist of hunger as he follows his nose. With one hand still scrubbing a towel against his wet hair, he ambles down the hall, fresh out the shower, ready for love — be it the form of food or, he thinks giddily, kisses.

Steve’s not watching the food as Eddie enters, his eyes fixed somewhere across the room. There’s a crease between his eyebrows, an indication of his deep thought.

Eddie grins, approaching without any attempt of being sneaky, (Steve’s as good as comatose when he’s distracted as he’d found) and jabs his boyfriend’s calf with his toe.

“Thinking mighty hard there, Stevie. That’s dangerous.”

Steve jolts, snapping out of his thoughts. He straightens up automatically, then seems to recall the company he’s keeping, and relaxes back down.

He scowls affectionately at Eddie’s barefoot, still jabbing into his leg, and reaches out to flick it with his finger.

“Dickhead.”

Eddie’s faster. He dances away and laughs at the instinctual pout that forms on Steve’s lips.

“What ponders thy mind, hm?” Eddie drawls, a lilt of a Regency style accent in his voice. He sinks into one of the kitchen chairs and drops his task. The towel hangs over his neck, his damp curls resting against it.

Steve seems to jolt again at that, his shoulders rising for a moment. He spins, picking up the wooden spoon beside the stove to swirl the contents of their dinner around. Eddie admires him, broad shoulders and long back, ripe for his taking. Silently, he sighs dreamily on the inside.

“Just… what movie we’re gonna watch tonight.” Steve says unconvincingly. “I’m not doing another re-watch of the Fly.” He adds lamely, an attempt at his usual bitch.

Eddie lets him have it. With one final squeeze of the towel, trying to wring out all the droplets in his hair, Eddie abandons it on the chair as he stands. He waltzes forward, into Steve’s space, and hooks his chin over the other's shoulder.

“You know, that’s what you said last time.”

Steve side-eyes him, his eyes narrowing into a minuscule glare; bitch personified. Eddie grins. Then bats his eyelashes.

It makes Steve laugh, shrugging Eddie’s weight off politely as he gives their dinner another stir. There’s still this tenseness to his frame. Though, maybe it's one Eddie can only notice because he’s paying such close attention.

“Alrightttttt,” He pretends to relent dramatically, his hands coming up to give Steve’s shoulders a quick squeeze. “I’ll let you pick the movie tonight.”

He drops his hands back to his sides, smarmy grin already plastered on as Steve turns to face him, the wooden spoon placed down on the bench.

“Oh, you’ll let me, will you?” He gives this incredulous look, even if there is this playfulness toying at the corners at his lips.

“Uh huh,” Eddie affirms with a severe nod, then begins counting on his fingers as he lists off. “No badgering, wailing, complaining, of any sorts I—“

Suddenly, Steve’s reaching out, his deft hands reaching out to snag the waistband of Eddie’s pyjama pants. It supposed to be a smooth move he’s used countless times before; fingers looped through belt loops to pull a girl in for a kiss. It usually works like a charm.

Except, there’s no belt loops— and when Steve tucks his fingers beneath the waistband and tugs him forward, Eddie shrieks.

“Fucking christ, Steve!” He bats Steve’s hands back without thinking. Steve holds them up defensively.

“Sorry! I was just—”

“What are you doing sticking your hands in my pants?!”

“It was a move!” Steve insists, voice a little whiney. “God, you’re dramatic- I was trying to pull you closer, numb-nuts.”

“Oooh,” Eddie switches up in an instant, hands shooting out to grab Steve’s own. He pulls them forward and settles them on his own waist, shuffling in closer like he hadn’t just shrieked a minute earlier. “Continue.”

Steve chuckles, delight peeking through on his face. His hands, large and slender, curl around the skin of Eddie’s waist and Christ, he’s still not used to that. Eddie’s too focused on repressing his shiver to see the shadow of nervousness cross Steve’s face.

“I was actually thinkin’ about,” Steve starts lowly, eyes skirting off Eddie’s face, over his shoulder. His fingers tighten their grip. “How—”

He sucks in a breath, like drawing in courage, and meets Eddie’s gaze. “About how much I love you.”

There’s the smallest tremble to his voice, giving away the immense emotion behind the words.

And here’s the situation that Eddie never expected to be in, ever. His breath catches, his eyes widen — his heartstrings tangle and knot themselves as he soaks in Steve’s admittance. Love, love, love — he loves me.

His lips part, a raspy noise escaping as he tries to compute, tries to think of anything to say because the longer he stays silent, the more crushed Steve’s expression becomes. And then—

“Well, I luv ya too.”

The words fall out, thick in that godawful Cockney accent.

Steve's face doesn't change but Eddie's does, contorting in an amalgamation of pure cringe and panic as embarrassment crawls beneath his skin. He slaps his hand over his own mouth as if it can take back his awful reply to being told he's loved by Steve.

"I—" He starts, speaking through his fingers, except it still comes out in a funny accent. Eddie squeaks, his grip over his mouth tightening, brown eyes wide in his panic. Oh God, never in stupid silly life has his accents come back to bite him in the ass so magnificently.

"I'm so sorry," Eddie whispers-yells in his regular voice, finally dragging his hands off his face sluggishly. "Jesus H Christ, I didn't— that wasn't making fun of you, I— oh god, you know that happens when I'm nervous sometimes. Shit. Shit, I'm so sorry, Steve."

Steve hasn't moved, his hands still resting on the small of Eddie's waist. His expression is guarded, nothing betrayed. His dark eyes scan across Eddie's face and just before he speaks, the smallest glimmer of amusement glitters across his face.

"Well," Steve begins, heaving a faux large sigh. His hands squeeze comfortingly at Eddie's waist again. Eddie who is still frozen, still cursing himself internally, still echoing around the apparently true fact that Steve loves him— well, maybe not anymore with how awfully Eddie responded.

And then Steve opens his mouth and the most appalling attempt at some accent comes out. It makes his words all garbled and Steve's pink in the face, obviously embarrassed but trying to commit to some shoddy Scottish when he says, "Aye, that's al'right."

Eddie stares at him. Steve stares back.

The moment of silence is broken as laughter seizes him, a guffaw bursting from his lips and holy fuck, Eddie loves him so much. Steve laughs too, the two of them relaxing and sinking into one another. Eddie's hands, previously fluttering and unsure, find their natural place curled in underneath Steve's jaw and when he leans in, he's fighting off his laughter. His grin is unbearably wide, cheeks aching.

Steve's got this shine in his eye, his hands sliding further around to pull Eddie in closer, his pink lips quirked in delight. Eddie practically purrs, so close to kissing him but not quite closing the gap.

"Yep," He says, eyes bright as they bounce over Steve's face to drink in his boyfriend's love-soaked expression. He loves him. Steve loves him. Eddie sounds as lovesick as he feels when he whispers, "It's decided. I think you're it for me, Stevie-baby."

He presses forward, lets his mouth find their home in the curve of Steve's lips. It's warm like nothing he's ever felt before, softened by their gooey-grins of love. It's an in love kiss.

"Even if you're terrible at accents." He murmurs against Steve's mouth.

"Shut up."

Steve hisses, but he’s still grinning. The dinner bubbles behind them, still cooking away behind them. "Like I'm ever going to let you live that down."

Eddie finds he doesn't really mind all that much — God forbid his boyfriend ever remind him they're in love.

"Shut up," He still says, then sticks out his tongue, like he's ten years old. "You love me."

"I do." Steve admits easily, his fingertips dancing along the small of Eddie's back. Eddie has to tuck his bottom lip behind his teeth to restrain his wild grin.

"And I love you." He says, properly this time, jabbing his finger into Steve's chest — so there's no absolutely mistaking it.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Transferrable Skills Part 7

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

Read on AO3

CW: Smut, 18+/MDNI, CMNF (clothed male naked female), continued hamstring stretches (advised by the appropriate medical professional), praise, kissing, manual stimulation/fingering, touching under clothes, explicit consent, dirty talk

The noise you make would be embarrassing if you couldn’t feel the effect it has on him, see the way his pupils almost swallow his irises. With your calves over one shoulder, he pulls your underwear clear. You expect him to toss them aside, but instead, he places them down gently next to your hip.

Then, he parts your legs to let the left one fall back to drape over his leg. Your your face gets hot when you hear how wet you are. Simon makes an interested noise, getting your left leg back into position as he pets lightly over the hair you’d thankfully groomed before your trip. His thumb dips down to just barely brush over the hood of your clit.

“Already so wet f’ me,” he rumbles. “Set your hips. Good girl.” As he straightens your leg, he shifts his own hips and makes room for his hand between you. The breath hisses out of him when his fingers slide across where you’re wet and wanting. “Fuck. Tell me you want it.”

“I want it,” you whimper, resisting the urge to roll your hips into the barely there touch. “Green. Green, Simon, please, I want it.”

He doesn’t make you ask again, just lets a thick finger sink in ever so slowly. His thumb rubs soft and slow, using your wetness to glide gently over your clit. You try not to moan too loudly, to hear the way he huffs into the side of your calf. For once, he’s not staring at you. Instead, his eyes are closed, breaths shallow as his finger pulses inside of you, almost metronome steady.

The heat that’s been pooling in your belly spills into the rest of your body. You can’t help but squeeze around him, once. He’s so gentle that you can feel yourself soften and open for him, until the friction is nothing but the shivery, slow ascent toward your peak. You don’t resist the urge to tip your head back with a soft sound.

After a few long moments, you flutter your eyes open. When you look at Simon, you notice the slightest tremble in his shoulders. His head is tipped down, but you can see tension in his neck, though there’s only the lightest pressure where his temple meets the leg that is still over his shoulder.

You touch the top of his thigh, surprised by how rigid he’s holding himself. “Simon?”

“Mm?” His voice is just as soft as his muscles aren’t.

Your voice comes out just as quiet. “You okay?”

The hum he gives you is noncommittal. But he keeps petting you inside and out, steady and distracting. Three fingers on his other hand tap two times. He needs some time to think, to center himself.

Did you do something to upset him? You try to sit up to speak to him. Before you can get an elbow under yourself, he squeezes his fingers toward each other, a sudden, staggering pressure that makes you fall back with a yelp. You try to twist away, but as gentle as he is, you can’t break his hold on your leg - or between your legs.

“Settle,” he rumbles, pinning you with a heated look from beneath his lashes. He starts petting over your raised thigh. “’M okay, Bambi. Ready?”

You almost say yes. Your whole body wants nothing more but to melt into him. But… “A-are you sure?”

“’F course,” His whole face softens when he smiles. “Mos’ beautiful woman in the world ‘s in bed wi’ me. Tryin’ no’ to mess my pants like a green boy.”

You end up swallowing whatever you might say to that when he curls his thick finger back up to make quick, hard strokes against your g-spot. Even as a part of you starts purring with the knowledge that he’s so undone for you, you feel yourself start to come apart at the seams.

Simon straightens your leg, asking, “Number?” Which isn’t fair of him. You have to consciously resist the building tension in your body, resist chasing the orgasm that is building ever so slowly.

“Number, Bambi,” he prompts you again, with mean pressure over your clit.

He’s barely putting any strain on your leg, just holding your it up. “Two,” you gasp. “One and a half.”

He leans forward, just a fraction, with a grin. “Now?”

“Three-ee!” you yelp as his fingers speed up.

He holds you there, watching as you struggle to relax into the stretch. Each time you start to tense into the pleasure, he slows his ministrations, just a little. Just enough to pull you back from the edge. You want to curse him out, you want to cry. It’s agony just as much as a reward, a slow syrupy pleasure that makes everything a little fuzzy around the edges.

“Doin’ so good, Bambi,” he rumbles, what you suspect is much longer than 30 seconds later. “Ready for the other one?”

You give into the urge to arch your back as he adjusts you. Your voice is so soft you’re not sure he’ll hear you when you ask, “C’n I have more?”

Simon hums as he adjusts you to drape your other calf over his shoulder. “Ask me nice.”

Your whole body feels warm and soft and pliant. “Please, Simon, can I have another finger?”

“’F course,” he coos. He straightens your leg. It’s the barest hint of pressure. You whine as his finger withdraws, then settle when he pets at you with two. “Askin’ so nice. C’n ‘ave whatever you want.”

He pushes in, slowly, before he adjusts your leg, and you’re grateful. His hands are so large, and you appreciate them in a new way, now. His fingers are so thick you have to take a few deep breaths to let him in fully. You can feel the groan that scrapes its way out of his chest. Your own hands seek his thighs, clenching the cloth of his sweatpants in a shaky fist as he pushes your leg where it needs to go.

He doesn’t seem to need your input this time, pushing your leg just to where you need it. Or maybe he did ask, but you’re too focused on the gentle and implacable way he caresses you inside to hear him. He barely has to move to devastate you. Before, you had to try not to tense around him. Now? You’re not sure you have any command over your body. You’re at his mercy, the most serene you’ve ever been.

You can’t stop the noises you make when he starts moving again, little whines and moans that he echoes. The climax that has been building inches closer with every beat of his fingers. When he sets your leg back down, you only notice because he leans forward to brace his hand next to your shoulder.

“Good girl,” he rumbles, and the hand between your legs gets so insistent that you have to gasp for breath. “Good girl, Bambi. Tha’s it. You wan’ to come, pretty girl?”

“Si-mon,” you hiccup, turning your head to mouth at his wrist.

“Yeah, you wan’ it,” he rumbles, ducking down to pant against your cheekbone as he works his hand. “You c’n ‘ave it, beautiful, take your reward. Come f’ me, now. C’mon.”

Before Simon, you’d never been able to come on command. After a few months, his voice could coax you to you peak with a little preparation. Now, with his lips brushing your skin and his presence filling your senses?

You couldn’t resist him if you wanted to.

The orgasm feels like it’s torn from behind your belly button. You can barely breathe for how it rolls through you. If Simon wasn’t caging you in, you might shake apart. As it is, you grasp at him however you can, trembling and crying out in ways you’re barely aware of. His voice anchors you through it, rasped encouragement and snarled affection that you can’t understand.

It takes all of your strength to turn your head to catch his lips with yours. Simon takes over, immediately, perfectly, and you give in to him with a panting moan. He steals your remaining breath, but also starts to gentle you down, hand and fingers gentling from earth-shattering movement to something so slow and gentle that your hips chase the echoes of sensation. He lets you. The way he kisses you, you think he really would give you anything you want.

[sevikasenby]

pleasure. (ao3 link)

summary: your own clit throbbed as you listened to her sweet moans, felt her soaked cunt, watched her eyes flutter every now and again. god, you always loved being able to undo sevika like this

rating: explicit, MDNI

wc: 1,339

AGELESS BLOGS, MINORS AND MEN DNI

you’re sitting in sevika’s lap, making out with her on the couch. it quickly turns into her laying you down, kissing up and down your neck. you’re tugging at her hair to bring her back up to you, capturing her soft lips again and running your hands under her shirt.

you finally get her shirt off and start kissing and sucking her tits, swirling your tongue over her nipple. she moans above you, gripping onto the arm of the couch to keep herself steady.

she starts trying to grind on you so you lift your leg between her’s so she can grind against it.

you don’t stop sucking at her nipple while you unbutton her pants and slip your hand underneath her boxers so she can grind her already wet cunt into your palm.

but she’s immediately had enough of her pants getting in the damn way so she leans back to take them and her underwear off and resumes her position on top of you.

you move to her other nipple, arguably her most sensitive one, the one with beautiful blue scars scattering her skin. you start touching her again, your fingers getting soaked with her arousal. drawing circles on her neglected puffy clit, you feel her tremble on top of you.

your own clit throbbed as you listened to her sweet moans, felt her soaked cunt, watched her eyes flutter every now and again. you always loved being able to undo her like this.

her eyes rolled back behind her lids as you slipped two fingers inside of her easily. you swirled your tongue around her nipple and gave her one more good suck before detaching from her with a wet pop sound.

she quickly captured your lips again, never giving your mouth a break from pleasing her. your tongue found its way into her mouth. she immediately let you take the lead and lick into her mouth, exploring every inch of her. she was moaning and panting into you. you smiled against her. “feel good, baby?”

“fuck yes.”

you could hear the squelching sound her cunt was making as you curled your fingers inside of her, finding the spot that made her see stars.

“oh you’re so wet, sev.” you cooed as her cum dripped down your fingers. “all this just from making out with me.”

her legs were starting to shake which meant she was having trouble keeping steady. she hung her head so it was resting on your shoulder, almost in the crook of your neck. your hand came up to tangle your fingers in her hair.

sevika moaned against you, grinding back against your fingers that still hammered into her cunt. the angle was starting to make your hand cramp but you didn’t give a shit. as long as you were making her feel good, you were content with your hand cramping.

“god, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

“s-shut up.” she stuttered. she always got embarrassed whenever you complimented her. she never knew how to react.

“never.” you told her. your fingers curled upward and she trembled once again, her hand gripping the couch. “turn over.” you said, pulling your fingers out, making her whine but she obeyed and immediately laid on her back, spreading her legs as best she could on the couch, her pretty cunt on display just for you.

you slipped your fingers back inside of her, her back arching as you did. with the new angle you were able to fuck her harder, faster. her mouth hung open slightly and her eyes rolled back as you hit her sweet spot with every thrust.

“you take my fingers so well, baby.” you said. she moaned in response.

your hand ran up her body. from her legs that now had a little bit of hair on them, to her beautiful bush, up to her tits again and finally to her face, running your thumb across her bottom lip. her flesh hand raised to hold onto yours. her mech hand was gripping the side of the couch.

she was so beautiful. her hair was falling in her face but she didn’t care. you were barely able to see her pretty grey eyes because they kept fluttering shut and rolling back. and then her moans, fuck, her moans. you could feel that your own underwear was absolutely soaked just from the sound and sight of her.

“you’re doing so good.”

a guttural moan fell from her lips and you grinned. it shocked you at first when you learned that sevika liked to be praised during sex. but then again it wasn’t. it started out with you praising her while she fucked you. telling her how good she felt, how good she was fucking you. she came nearly every time you told that to her. then it was telling her how well she was taking you when you fucked her, telling her how good for you she was. it made her head spin every single time.

you looked down so you could spit on her clit, rubbing your thumb over the sensitive throbbing bud. she automatically raised one of her legs up higher so you could drill your fingers in deeper.

cum was smeared all over her pussy, your fingers and even on the couch where it had leaked out as you fucked her. you wondered for a moment if she would be this of a mess if you had been fucking her with the strap. if you had her on her knees pounding her from behind with the pillow beneath her muffling her moans, watching as her cunt took every inch of your strap.

you were quickly taken out of your little daydream when a loud “fuck!” rang through your ears. sevika was trembling around your fingers, her cunt was practically sucking on them. her soft, wet walls clenching around them, trying to pull you in even deeper, clearly very close to the release she craved so badly.

“cum for me, sev. come on. that’s it. cum all over my fingers.” one final swipe over her puffy clit and she was rolling her eyes back, her back arching, moaning your name over and over as she came. you continued to pump your fingers in and out while she rode out her orgasm.

her breathing was heavy and her eyes were droopy as you pulled out, immediately going to settle between her legs to clean her up. you licked all the from her fluttering hole to her sensitive clit, gently swirling your tongue around the bud. the overstimulation made sevika squirm under you. you wanted to make her cum again.

her hand came to rest on top of your head as you dived back down into her wet cunt, licking up her cum from the sides of her lips then around her wet hole, plunging your tongue inside of her to taste her as much as possible.

“oh fuck, baby, please-“ sevika moaned. you could hear the tiredness in her sweet voice. you wasted no time in taking her clit into your mouth and gently sucking on it, not trying to cause her too much overstimulation.

her second orgasm hit her a lot faster. just few licks and sucks and she was cumming once again. you kissed the insides of her thighs as she came down and caught her breath. this time you actually cleaned her up, getting up to grab two wet washcloths and coming back to gently wipe her down and then the spot on the couch that needed it.

you kissed the top of her head once you were finished and coaxed her out her comfy spot on the couch to bring her into the bedroom and get you both into some clean underwear and t-shirts before pulling her into bed and into your arms. sevika always liked having her back rubbed after any sexy activity where she was on the receiving end of things so your fingers trailed up and down her spine, lulling her to sleep, you following shortly after.