#he drooled all over me

[mossywizard]

i think i looked like a wounded animal all through class oOps

[wrathofrats]

Thinking about aether in sweat pants and a beanie and he’s so cozy and warm looking and also maybe has a ghoul in his lap sweetly cockwarming him

[gods-perfect-idiots]

❤️💛

[eqt-95]

a new kind of romance, finale

part 8 | new years

🥟 | dumplings

Kara was not having a good time.

Sure, she loved her job. Yes, she adored her staff. Absolutely, she found her role as editor-in-chief worthwhile and world-saving in its own way.

But today was a holiday and her staff was absent and her role as editor-in-chief was only kind of worthwhile given they’d gone to print three days earlier. 

Today was a day meant to be surrounded by friends, new beginnings, and maybe the slightest tinge of a hangover nursed by a staggering stack of Danvers world-famous pancakes. 

It was a day to slip into cozy sweats; an evening unburdened by Supergirl duties or an upcoming deadline; a series of uninterrupted hours where she could collapse onto her couch, bask in the blue glow of her television after consuming far too much post-brunch take-out, and, if she played her cards right, idly massaging the too-tight calves of her very best friend who was stretched out across her lap.

The tips of her fingers crawled between her glasses and face and pressed with a heavy sigh against her eyes because today was not one of those days. Kara wondered if she’d ever have one of those days again.

Not the blue glow or take-out or cozy sweats: those were always within reach. It was the best friend she wasn’t quite sure about. 

Because things were kind of different now. Things were weird and awkward, and Kara didn’t know if it was her or them. Either way, she was one supersuit short of feeling brave enough to do anything about it.

So she was at work. On a holiday.

“You know,” came a voice that nearly sent Kara flying into the next floor, “when Alex told me you were skipping New Year's brunch, I almost didn't believe her.”

“Lena,” Kara choked. She looked up and locked eyes with a very soft, very pretty, very smirking Lena Luthor and felt a rush of weird and awkward all over again. “I didn't, uh, hi.”

“Must be important work,” Lena replied, nodding toward the glasses propped on Kara's nose. They'd been a gift earlier that summer: improved and Lena-Luthor-approved to cut out even more noise and distraction than her last pair. 

“Just… just wanted to focus,” Kara replied.

“On next month’s issue?”

“Never too early to get ahead,” Kara offered lamely.

“Well, is it too early for lunch?” Lena asked, lifting a plastic bag overflowing with take-out containers.

“I thought that was my job,” Kara said, eyeing the strained bag and feeling her stomach betray her with an oversized growl.

“Sometimes even heroes need saving,” Lena chuckled, setting the bag onto Kara’s overflowing desk. “And I’m very good at giving.”

The tease, the flick of an eyebrow, and the confident smirk would have normally sent Kara’s cheeks on fire and stumbling for words and trying very hard to keep strictly platonic, best-friend thoughts at the forefront of her mind, but today was not one of those days. 

“Mhm,” Kara said with a labored smile and a strained chuckle and a fiddle with her glasses. 

Because today was awkward and weird-feeling just like every day since cuddles didn’t feel like something just best friends did.

Lena, ever astute and thoughtful and considerate, noticed the wave of discomfort radiating from Kara, and for that Kara winced even more.

“Are… are we ok?” Lena asked, fingers playing with the edge of her sleeves. It was the exact opposite of the teasing confidence spoken moments earlier; this came out shy and hesitant.

“Sure,” Kara replied automatically in a way that sounded forced, sounded fake, sounded like a lie. Because it was. It was, and Lena knew it. 

“Ok,” she nodded back, and that made it feel worse. Because Kara knew that Lena knew. “Well, I just wanted to drop this off-”

“Stay,” Kara rushed. “Uhm, please? Please stay?”

What followed wasn’t the most awkward lunch Kara had ever had, but it sure was close. Conversation lagged and Kara, lost in the labyrinth of thoughts and doubts and concerns that had played on repeat for no less than two weeks rattled around louder and louder and -

Kara blinked, realizing she’d missed whatever Lena just said. And Lena noticed but, with generous tact, looked down and quietly poked at her food and gosh this was going terribly.

“I’m sorry,” Kara said unprompted. “I’ve been distracted and… and it’s not fair to you. You skipped brunch and brought all of this delicious food and I’ve been terrible company and a bad f-friend,” she said, her throat choking around the last word.

And then a smile flashed across her best friend’s face. It was tiny and wistful. “You could never be, darling.”

And it made Kara’s stomach flutter and twist. It made it flutter and twist, and Kara clung to the tiny thread for dear life and jumped.

“Do you, uh… do you want one?”

“You’re offering me a potsticker?” Lena asked, the faintest tone of disbelief at the chopsticks floating in front of her with a perfectly pan-fried dumpling pinched between them.

Kara nodded, her outstretched, chopstick-holding hand shaking in a very unhero-like way.

And she only barely managed to snatch it, her chopsticks, and the floating potsticker back in time when Lena’s hand rose to meet the literal best pillow of food on the entire planet.

“You can’t use your hands,” Kara said - yelled - and then silently begged the earth to split open and swallow her whole.

“I… I can’t?” Lena asked, hand flinching back in surprise.

“We… there uhm, there aren’t any napkins,” Kara explained like a lying four-year-old. 

Because there absolutely were napkins. 

In plain sight. 

Directly next to Kara’s half-eaten egg roll.

Before Lena could challenge the blatantly bizarre lie with her confused scowl and keen, impossibly brilliant, and scientifically perfect observation skills, Kara blindly rambled ahead while her elbow did the inelegant task of plopping across the desk onto the stack of said napkins.

“And these are, uh, greasy? Greasy,” Kara continued, sliding her elbow with the subtlety of a firework to the edge of her desk and, just as subtly, knocking the napkins to the floor. 

“Greasy,” Lena parroted, eyes distracted by Kara’s elbow’s antics.

“I-in a good way,” Kara clarified. The moment was only briefly interrupted by the squeak of her chair rolling to the left.

To cover the stack of napkins.

The napkins which were definitely there.

“I wouldn’t offer one if they were bad, but since we don’t have napkins then,” Kara explained, “then you’d need to- to…uhm.”

“To what?” Lena pressed.

“To�� wipe them on your shirt?” Kara finished feeling mortified and like the most incapable alien on the planet. 

Which was why, when Lena’s head tilted to the side and her gaze fell to where the napkins were most definitely scattered around on the ground then darted back to Kara’s and sparkled in that special way, Kara felt her heart swell and her stomach flutter just a little bit more. 

“Well,” Lena began, leaning forward with the focus of a predator, “we can’t have that.”

And Kara, the weakest, most inept prey in a five hundred-mile radius swallowed against the parchment that had become her throat, shook her head weakly, and kept the freefall going.

And it might have been something.

Could have been something.

Was nearly something. 

Lena was hovering forward. 

Lips parted. 

Eyes locked on Kara’s. 

Which was exactly when Kara’s big giant nerves took over and sent her chopsticks splintering and the potsticker slipping out of her grasp with all the grace of Flubber before zipping across the office to land with an unceremonious splat against the glass partition.

All of which turned that ‘near something’ into one giant ‘swing and miss'. 

But before Kara could articulate her feelings as ‘mortified’ and ‘crestfallen’ and ‘like a giant himbo’, Lena burst out into the kind of bright laughter that made her dimples show and smile beam and Kara wonder if how they were was enough.

Because this could be fine. 

They could be fine.

So distracted was Kara that she didn’t notice Lena swipe the last, un-splatted potsticker from Kara’s plate, and she definitely didn’t process when Lena, ever so casually, asked Kara for a napkin to wipe her fingers off, and she was lightyears from self-awareness when she automatically snatched one from the floor.

That’s how lunch continued and ended: with Lena smiling her special smile and Kara lost in a sort of daze, inhaling the spread of options Lena brought.

“I’ll let you get back to it,” Lena said when the final remnants of lo mein were polished off. “Can’t have Cat Grant accusing me of derailing her Editor-in-Chief.”

“Oh, ok,” Kara said, rising to join Lena and crashing back to earth while simultaneously knocking her knee against the desk and sending a stack of proofs sliding like Niagra Falls to the floor.

“No, no, I’ve got this,” Kara said, waving Lena away. She clambered around the desk and intercepted her with a bashful grin and outstretched arms. They wrapped comfortably around Lena like they always did, and it made her feel all tiny sorts of warm and happy. 

This could be fine.

“Thanks for lunch,” she muttered into the side of Lena’s head.

“What are friends for?” Lena said, hands falling to Kara’s upper arms and disarming Kara with a practiced smile.

Kara nodded, her own smile feeling tight and confused. 

It faltered only slightly when the door clicked shut and she crouched to pick up the disheveled proofs. 

This could be fine. 

Kara could be totally normal and cool and collected, and Lena could be her usual pretty and perfect and kind and thoughtful self. And everything could be great and par for the course and completely and totally… 

Normal. 

Kara rolled back onto her heels and pondered that thought: normal. She pondered and pondered some more. A whole minute passed while the idea braised in her brain, and it kind of didn’t sit right.

It didn’t sit right one bit.

And then the most obvious thing on the whole giant existence of everything occurred - no, re-occurred: Kara didn’t want normal. She definitely didn’t want to go back to normal. She wanted the opposite of normal. In fact, she didn’t want normal for another second of her whole entire life.

Unless that not-normal was Lena hating her guts for the rest of eternity. That was not a not-normal Kara had the stomach for, but before she could let that worry petrify her from action, she jumped to her feet and clambered toward the stairwell. 

It took only a second; a perfectly timed second that synchronized with the elevator doors opening and Kara’s very best friend appearing in the ground floor lobby.

“Kara,” Lena said, jumping at what was probably a borderline crazed expression on Kara’s face when two muscular arms spread across the elevator’s threshold, blocking Lena’s exit. “Wha-”

“Mistletoe magic,” Kara stammered inelegantly.

“Mistletoe-?” Lena began, her surprise turning to a flash of hurt.

“With you,” Kara clarified. “I wanted… I wanted mistletoe magic with you.”

“With… me?” Lena asked slowly, cautiously - nervously.

“I wanted… I wanted you - want you. I didn’t mean to, you know,” Kara clarified poorly, “but then I got so nervous. And then Andrea was there and, and I just… I thought you didn’t want it. And maybe you don’t which is - that’s fine, but I can’t stop thinking that maybe you do? Because I do. I really do and, and when you… with the frosting? And the dress? You were just so, so… Rao. And you’re so so brilliant and kind and my best friend-”

“Me too.”

“- and I don’t want to ruin any… any…thing,” Kara trailed off, the tiny echo of Lena’s confession rattling in her ears. “What?”

Then something even louder started rattling in Kara’s ears because her rambling had gone on long enough to trigger the lift’s alarm.

Then came a tug against Kara’s shirt.

Then Kara felt herself being pulled into the lift.

Then she felt the warmth breath against her cheek.

“I wanted mistletoe magic with you, too.”

“R-really?” Kara asked, her eyes darting down to Lena’s perfectly painted lips.

“Really.”

“Like…” Kara continued, glancing back up to double check Lena’s eyes were serious. “Like real-”

They were. They were dead serious. And Kara registered it only a millisecond before Lena’s lips cut off what was definitely going to be another babble-fest. Lena’s lips cut her off and all of her thoughts and words disappeared and instead every sense was engulfed by soft, warm, gentle and - oh wowsers.

“Like really, really,” Lena whispered before the elevator lurched upward and before Kara could register the sparks of gold magic and green leaves flickering above them and before recapturing Kara’s mouth and setting fire to Kara’s core.

// sixty-three floors later //

“So, you liked the dress?” Lena asked.

- - - - - - -

ko-fi and other ao3 reads

[hatkuu]

kylar's cock throbbing underneath you while you sit pretty in his lap.

[silusvesuius]

my nelvas and moraak thought crumblets

[softquietsteadylove]

Can you do another spicy story with this AU but it's him tying her up instead. Like i need this to be SPICY like one of the spiciest, filthiest story you've ever made. I need the teasing, dirty talk, begging, maybe some overstimulation if you feel like it😅 Also I know being rough isn't Gilgamesh whole thing but I feel like for this Thena did something that set him off and brought something out of him maybe? I love you and all your work!

Thena keened as he tugged at the lace, making sure it was secure around her precious little wrists. He gave her backside a gentle pat. "Good, girl."

She whined faintly. Her teeth were dug into the plump of her lower lip, their fullness pushing against them.

"Easy," he growled, giving her a slightly firmer spank before moving around her. He hovered close, letting his eyes take in the exquisite feast that was his wife (to be). "Pink is a good colour on you, Princess."

She trembled before him, the pink he had just left on the round of her bum matching the pink in her cheeks now travelling down to her chest. Her breath heaved, forcing her breasts up and down in a hypnotising rhythm.

"And whose are you?"

"Yours," she gasped out as he rolled up his sleeves. He flexed his right hand, even slipped his engagement ring off. She eyed it as he approached her again.

"Good," he purred, holding up the ring. He toyed with it in his fingers a few times before pressing it to her lips. "Whose princess are you?"

"Yours," she panted, watching as he slipped his ring onto the other hand, freeing his right to be unburdened as he slipped it up her thigh.

"And whose," he paused, pressing his thumb at the right angle to open her just slightly. He ran his tongue over her, making her body tremor again. He held her other thigh steady, "is this?"

"All yours," she moaned as he pressed his tongue to her again. She wiggled against her binds, trying to press her hips to him. But he held her more solidly, commanding how far she was able to move and to what timing. "Please, Gil."

"Hm," he hummed directly against her clit. She made a positively guttural sound and he knew she had thrown her head back with pleasure. He let his tongue trace around the edges of her lips, testing out his territory. "Ask again."

"Please, baby, please," she whined, even trying to hook one of her legs around his shoulder, but he held her firmly. Her hips knocked against him.

"Ask nicely," he growled, even biting down on the firmness of her adductor longus (he needed anatomy knowledge for business, but pleasing his fiance was a pleasant bonus). He left reddish teeth marks, furthering the overall rouge of her pale skin sheened with sweat. He ran his palm over it, on his way to pushing two fingers into her, "like a good girl."

"Please, Tyrant King, please fuck me."

He buried his satisfaction in the crook of her thigh, right at the socket of her hip. He dragged his teeth over her soft skin there as he pumped his fingers mercilessly. Without his ring on, he could push up until his fingers met her pelvic bone.

"Gil!" Thena shrieked, but he kept moving. He had never gone so deep, so fast, so hard. He usually warmed her up more gently, even before they were joined. But he was powering on relentlessly. "Gil, Gil, fuck--it's too much!"

She came almost immediately, and he was pleased with the results. But he kept moving. He let his rhythm change slightly, pulling his fingers out just to his first knuckles each time. "Come on, Sweetness."

Her knees buckled but he held her up, still driving her towards her second orgasm in rapid succession.

"Fuck, Gil, I-I can't-!" She screamed again as she came a second time, her senses completely drowning in him. Her hips jerked as she squirted, her legs letting go of all semblance of strength.

He held her, not willing to let her fall to her knees no matter the agenda he had planned for them. Her whole body shook and her knees were twitching in a charming way. He rubbed her back as he helped her lean back against his desk. "Easy."

Thena panted, leaning as heavily as she could against her clasped fists between the desk edge and her bare back. Her lips attempted to form words, but all that happened were a series of kittenish sounds implying satisfaction.

Gil kept his chuckle to himself; he could relish in his ridiculous male pride later. He started at her ankle, pulling it up to rest it on his shoulder. "What a mess."

Thena gasped again, regaining her senses from the bottom up as he licked up the evidence of her bone-deep pleasure. "Gil?"

"It's okay, Princess," he whispered against her skin, trailing his tongue along her the way he would like a million dollar plate. He massaged the inside of her other thigh as he did. "I don't want to waste this."

Thena barely had the mind to breathe as he continued his journey up her thighs. He stopped just short of her core. Her hips quivered as he let himself puff a breath of warm air against her wetness. "M-More?"

"Is that a question?" he grinned against her skin, just below her bellybutton. He trailed his tongue over the scar leftover from when she'd had her procedure. She whined at him--she didn't like him paying it special attention. He gave her another light spank.

She yelped.

"Who's in control here," he rose from kneeling to look into her eyes again. She looked delirious, in a delicious kind of way. "Ice?"

"You are," she breathed, swaying on the spot as he moved closer. She let herself lean against him, her breasts finding refuge against his chest. She even tried to rise up onto her toes to kiss him. "You are."

If only it were always so easy.

He granted her a little kiss, although she tried to follow as he pulled back. "Ah-ah-ah, Ice--wait."

Her spine straightened at the command.

He undid the buttons of his shirt slowly, pulling it off with a sense of luxury he had denied her. She eyed him hungrily, some of his usual lionhearted Ice Queen emerging. He rolled his shoulders, showing off the tattoos covering his arms. She liked them.

She tried to move forward again, pulling faintly at her lace.

He undid his belt with a single hand, pulling it out and tossing it away with one motion. He inhaled as he pulled himself from his trousers. "This what you want?"

She nodded, still battling against remaining still and pulling forward.

He closed the distance, lessening her need to move in. He pressed her back towards the desk, even gripping her thigh to help her just high enough to lean back against it practically and comfortably. He dashed his eyes down between them.

The pink in her chest deepened, overtaking her like a rose blooming.

He kept his eyes focused as she obeyed his commands even without the words. She raised her leg further, showing her readiness to take him in. He held himself in position. "Good girl."

Thena moaned, literally dripping ready for him. "Please."

"Go on," he encouraged under his breath. He all but held still as she aligned them, trying to take in the head of him with only her hips to guide her. She whimpered as he finally slipped into her. "Good girl."

Thena moaned as she finally managed to slide him into her. She truly was wound up, her muscles undulating around him, at a loss after being teased so thoroughly.

"Move."

She met his eyes, although the lids of hers were heavy. Her pupils were blown, her eyes a dark, dark green. She started, as he asked, bouncing on his cock, pinned between him and a hard place.

"Good" he growled, moving back to whisper right in her ears. The closer angle let them move more easily. He kept his participation minimal, just enough for them to continue while she did the bulk of the work. "Just like that."

She whimpered, pulling at her binds again. "Gil, please."

He loved hearing that. He leaned forward. She used the friction of their naked fronts to appease her need to stimulate her breasts. He reached behind her, in a semblance of holding her like she liked, or even of undoing her restraints.

She let out another sound of pure pleasure as he yanked her back, exposing her to the open air again.

"Getting greedy, Ice," he chastised her before nipping at the shell of her ear. He left light but visible bite marks all along the delicate but brightly flushed part of her until he could trail down to her neck. He latched on there, pulling her thigh up higher until he could seat her on the desk. Only there could he truly complete his task. "Who's in control, here?"

"You are."

He pulled out of her completely, admiring how visibly she missed him, only to push in again in one clean stroke. They both shuddered. His throat clenched,

Thena hunched all the way forward, desperate to feel some part of him closer aside from just what connected them. "Gil!"

"That's it," he cooed as he started moving. This was a better angle. He let go of her high, locking her knee up around his arm as he gripped the edge of the desk. The heavy, bolted-to-the-floor desk, moaned from the pressure of their bodies writhing together.

Thena's gasps fluttered continually upward and outward. She moaned, higher and louder with every stroke. "Fuck, I'm gonna come again!"

That was certainly his goal. He wanted a mess of her. He wanted a complete feast of the woman he loved, piled on his desk like a cornucopia. He wanted to be able to lick up her melted remains off the varnished oak top.

"Fuck, please," she panted. She had unfurled her fists, angling her hands to hold her up against his pounding. Her buttocks were creating a mass around which their sweat and other fluids could collect in an incriminatingly round formation.

"Who do you come for?" he growled, determined to bring their current mood to its conclusion. He reached behind her again, tugging at the end of the lace around her wrists and pulling her back further. He eyed the enticing bounce of her breasts, offbeat from the slapping of their hips meeting.

"You, only you," she responded oh-so obediently. She was a fast learner, his Ice Queen. If she wanted to come, she would play his game. "It can only be you."

"Damn right," he snarled, pulling up on the edge of the desk until he heard the legs groaning in protest. He could hear - and see - the wetness running from between her legs and now over the edge of the desk. That vision would be with him for the rest of his life.

"Gil, Gil, oh fuck, right there, I-!" Thena stopped mid-sentence, if not mid-word. Her head went all the way back and her legs jerked up and in. Her toes splayed out and then curled in.

He threw himself against her, their hips creating the perfect crater for one another in their release. He could feel the mess they were making, and it was incredible. Only now did he let himself lean his weight down over her, their hearts beating wildly, but somehow alike. The weight of him helped her to stop shaking.

Thena's body was completely slick with sweat, now glowing, and tinged pink all over. Her usual pallor had given way, particularly from her chest upward. Some of her perfect blonde hair was even stuck to her cheeks in their heated tangle of bodies.

Gil grunted as he pulled himself from her. He was tired, and he couldn't imagine how she was feeling. He looked down as the evidence of them trailed after him and flowed freely from Thena. He reached for his suit jacket.

Thena flinched as he ran his handkerchief over her bare lips.

"Sorry," he whispered, being as gentle as he could knowing she was probably still on fire within her own nervous system.

Again, she tried to form words, but nothing came out.

Gil collected her into his arms, undoing her lace just as easily as he had tied it. Her arms hung limply by her sides as he pulled her against his chest. "Easy, Princess."

She mumbled something, but he couldn't make out what it was. He just patted her back, helping her off the desk so he could hold her properly. Her head was limp against his shoulder, as if she were barely conscious.

"Thena?" he cooed, hoping he hadn't taken it too far. He turned, carrying her to his office couch and pulling his shirt over her.

"Hm," she managed, just barely. But her completely dazed expression did feature a sated - and dare he say cute - little smile on her perfect lips.

"Nothing, sweetheart, I'll wake you later," he promised, pressing a gentle kiss to those lips as comfortably and freely as he would speak her name.

Thena seemed aware enough to accept the promise, snuggling against him as she gave in to her exhaustion.

Indeed, he would. He would let her rest, run a cool cloth over her body until she was refreshed, pull her dress back on for her. He would have her favourites delivered, and hand feed her, if that was what she wanted. They had both had their needs more than fulfilled, after all.

Although he had to admit, he liked being the one to tie her up this time. And despite his security in knowing that Thena had no interest in the new business associates all throwing themselves at her feet, begging and drooling like unfixed dogs, he liked asserting that fact. He liked hearing for himself that she was only his, that her body was only his as his was hers. And he liked having her beg for him, just a little bit.

[ohimsummer]

summer let’s do a bf swap for the day 😼 you get satoru i get suguru<3 i’ll leave you a “How To Deal With Your Overgrown Cat Of A Boyfriend” handle for dating satoru…. includes lots of kisses and cuddling and scratching his back where he can’t reach and rubbing your fingers over his undercut during said-cuddles bc it makes him melt into your touch instantly yknow yknow 😌😌 im sure your satoru is a handful too so you already know how it is 🙏🏼

I WILL TAKE SUCHHH GOOD CARE OF UR SATORU OKAY HE WILL BE IN PRISTINE CONDITION WHEN I RETURN HIM (minus lipstick stains)

I am slamming down a…humongous book of tips and tricks on how to deal with a sassy emo boyfriend named suguru (with very important stuff circled in big red sharpie)(aka 99% of the book) SUGURU CAN HAVE A BIG ATTITUDE!!! And a smart mouth so make sure you put him in check 🤨 (hack: if you rub his hair and hum to him while he lays on your chest he WILL fall asleep Immediately and that is the perfect opportunity to take pictures <<333 ) and suguru is also both a biter and a pincher so guard your ass because he WILL pinch it. ALSO also he is an Overgrown Cat Boyfriend too the way he just eases himself closer and closer until you realize he wants to Cuddle (if you don’t take the hint he will keep going until he’s on top of you….weighted blanket bf returns)

[dolly-macabre]

Whenever people draw Pickles sleeping and make him a drooler they are 100% correct. He just does. I know it in my heart of hearts.

[mamawasatesttube]

princess carry is very cute and all but i think the world needs more of tim getting thrown over his friends shoulders like a sack of flour tbh

[kelpiemomma]

Seyeong being a petty, catty bitch will never not delight me. He's such an asshole. I love him.

[cheeseknives]

Instagram keeps showing me reels of someone with a handle named something like jamesmaythristtraps and like, they are truly doing gods work but I can't like or comment on these masterpieces because I know what kind of snitch of an app it is 😔

[gregoftom]

I kinda miss long haired greg! his floofy hair! I think tom would love playing with it until greg falls asleep

me too!! i think tom would miss it as well, maybe greg grows it out again a little post show when they r together :)

[pinkmirth]

i’m thinkin’ of those lasting marks that odm gear leaves on the skin after extensive use, and i have no clue why something as mundane as this just seems so hot to me! every now and again, your eyes trail along the faint marks that decorate your Aot fave’s battle-worn body; it goes from their waist to their calves. your gaze wanders, fixating on the lasting effect that the brown leather straps have imposed upon their flesh. something about it just makes their thighs look so . . . rideable.

[aligatorrageinator]

Sometimes the takes are so bad you gotta scan the tag in bursts, taking a second to doodle the correct [to you fiction is subjective yadda yadda] dynamic inbetween rounds.

[perilegs]

i am my father's son (enjoyer of irl sidequests)