#i GOTTA do an explanation for this part

[shepscapades]

YALLS TAGGSSSSSS IM GONNA BE FERALLLL

[usernyoom]

Physics for rookies! What is Adrien Newey cooking in there?

Here is the culmination of my research into the physics behind F1, my own knowledge from GCSE physics, and what I have gleaned from my very patient friend who took A-Level physics. This is about as in-depth as I can understand in hopefully simple and fun explanations. I've used the RB19 as my example model because I don't think I'll ever truly be over her.

The basics!

Because a lot of this primer uses language that you might not remember or sort of vaguely understand, here's some basic explanations of physics stuff that comes up:

Energy: this is defined as 'the ability to do work' - how much capacity you have to do something, such as move, or react! There are several different forms of energy: kinetic (movement), thermal, light, gravitational, electrical, sound, chemical and nuclear. Energy can be transferred between these different forms - for example, some of the light energy produced by light bulbs is transferred into heat, which is why they are hot to touch. It can also be transferred between different objects that are touching. This can cause other objects to move, such as water rippling, or other objects to begin to heat up, like a pan on a stove.

Particle: in science, this refers to an extremely small piece of stuff, most commonly a molecule or an atom. Although the air seems invisible to us, it is actually made up of various gases and other types of particles. We don't feel the pressure these particles exert on us because we produce enough energy to move through them without them bothering us, and we don't see them because they're so small and spread out!

Pressure: the physical force exerted on or against an object by something coming into contact with it. In this primer, this mostly refers to the pressure caused by the particles that make up gases, which collide with the things around them as they move around randomly. Pressure can be relative in the same volume - high pressure areas have more particles in the same volume than low pressure areas, which have less. Pressure can be changed by increasing the volume - more volume with the same amount of particles equals a lower pressure.

But wait ... physics matters in F1?

The physics behind F1 cars dictates how the team develops their cars! Understanding why the updates they add to the car work why they do helps them to develop further changes, or to make adjustments according to the race weekend. There are a few different forces teams need to think about during development and set-up:

Drag

Downforce

Ground effect

Some cars have high or low drag - what does that mean?

Simply: how much drag a car has directly translates to how easily the car moves through the air. The more drag the car has, the less energy goes into acceleration, as more energy goes into moving the particles in the air out of the way. Complicatedly:

The energy of an F1 car produces different types of energy, the most obvious ones being kinetic, thermal, and sound. Most of the kinetic energy the car produces goes into making it go fast, but since some of the particles that make up the air are touching the car, some of that kinetic energy has to go into pushing those particles out of the way so the car can move past them. This makes the car less efficient, as less of the energy produced is going toward its intended purpose: zooming! The horizontal force the car experiences caused by these air particles pushing on it as it moves them out of the way is called drag. There are a few different types of drag that an F1 car can experience:

Skin Friction Drag: what it sounds like! Some particles in the air have qualities that make them attracted to surfaces, such as the wings or chassis of an F1 car. These particles can stick to the car, and then become attracted to other particles that are free in the air. These attractions can build up layers of particles. The attraction between particles attached to the car, and particles in the air increases the amount of energy the car has to use to move them out of the way

Form Drag: this just refers to 'normal' drag - the force caused when an object pushes the particles in the air out of the way. The shape of an object can affect the amount of form drag it experiences. The smaller the area moving through the air, the less pressure it experiences, and therefore the less drag experienced

Induced Drag: this is a type of drag caused by a second force an F1 car experiences, downforce. Downforce creates an area of high pressure and an area of low pressure. The particles in the air try to even this out by moving from the area of high pressure to the area of low pressure. This happens most around the front and rear wings of an F1 car. However, it's unavoidable, because downforce is vital to the function of an F1 car!

If an F1 car is high drag, this basically means it is designed in a way that is not efficient for moving through the air, so it wastes loads of the energy produced by the engine. These cars often have huge speeds losses on straights when compared to low drag cars. Low drag cars are great at moving through the air! They have lots more energy left over to go into speed.

How do you make a car high or low drag?

F1 engineers use a few different techniques to reduce drag. Here are some of them:

Endplates: induced drag means that the air moving over the front wing and rear wing of F1 cars wants to go down underneath them, from the area of high pressure to the area of low pressure. Endplates stop them moving sideways over the plates, and instead keeps them moving in a straight line over the wings. On the front wing of the car, the endplates also reduce drag by directing air over the wheels of the car, and not into them!

Sidepods: remember how Mercedes refused to have sidepods, and then added them as an upgrade? Sidepods help to reduce form drag by directing the air flow in specific ways over the car. This also helps to increase downforce - they're kind of important!

Nose: F1 cars have super thin noses. This helps to reduce form drag - the smaller the area experiencing pressure as it moves through the air, the less energy is used!

DRS: the drag reduction system on an F1 car opens the rear wing during specified zones on each circuit. This removes the induced drag caused by the wing generating downforce, so the car gains around 10 extra km/h!

To see how these different components change how air is directed over the surface of the car, you can watch the tests teams often do early in free practice 1. During aerodynamic tests, they add neon paint to areas of the car and record how it spreads!

Most of these components are regulated by the FIA, but teams can design and adjust them within those regulations to get different effects to suit different circumstances. This can be why you see teams bringing different sidepods, or wings, to different tracks! Power circuits (e.g. Monza) refer to circuits where the speed of the car is most important to its performance. These circuits typically have a bunch of straights and slow speed corners, where downforce isn't useful, but reducing drag is!

What's downforce?

Simply: downforce is a term mainly specific to F1 that refers to the force that sucks the car down toward the floor when it moves. The more downforce a car has, the faster it can go! Complicatedly:

Downforce refers to the vertical force that a car experiences due to the particles in the air pushing downward on it. This happens when the car isn't moving, but also when it does! As the car moves and air flows over it, the particles in the air collide with the car and create pressure. Downforce is also sometimes called 'negative lift', as the opposite of lift occurs.

The amount of downforce an object experiences increases according to the square of its speed. This means that if you are travelling at 50 km/h, with 10N of downforce, and double your speed to 100 km/h, you increase the amount of downforce you experience to 40N (WARNING! MATHS: 50 x 2 = 100, 2² = 4, 10 x 4 = 40).

Teams want lots of downforce on their car for a few different reasons:

Downforce stabilises the rear of the car. This makes it easier for the driver to handle the car and predict what it will do

The more downforce you have, the higher the top speed of your car is

Teams want extra speed in medium and low speed corners. Because of the above principle, its actually easy to find extra downforce in fast corners! Medium and slow speed corners are the problems.

What's a ground effect? How does it work?

To generate more downforce, F1 engineers now consider the ground to be part of the system that produces different forces on an F1 car. This principle is called the ground-effect, and it can be used to produce ground-effect downforce. Ground-effect is also used to explain why planes float before they reach take-off speed!

In modern-day F1, most ways that are used to produce ground-effect are based off Bernoulli's principle. This principle refers to the effect that occurs when an object is lowered to the floor as air flows around it. As air moves between the object and the ground, it accelerates as the amount of space it has to move between them decreases. This causes pressure between the object and the ground to decrease, while pressure above the object stays the same - this creates an area of low pressure, and an area of high pressure. The object then experiences an overall downward force, which presses it toward the floor!

The area of low pressure underneath the car also works between the floor of the car and the track surface by trying to decrease the volume that the particles are contained in - it either tries to pull the track up towards the floor of the car, or pull the floor down toward the surface. This 'pulling' force acts as a vertical force, so it technically increases downforce!

How do you get extra downforce?

Anything that helps to either increase the pressure over the top of the car, or decreases the pressure underneath the car can help! The most common way engineers do this is by considering the entire car to be one big 'wing', but there are couple of methods:

The front wing: the front wing directs air close to the surface of the track up and over the body of the car, which increases the amount of air causing pressure over the top of it. This creates an area of low pressure under the front wing, and an area of high pressure above it

The skirt: the skirt around the floor of the car prevents air from entering underneath it from the sides. This stops the low pressure area underneath the car from being interrupted!

The flaps and fins: flaps and fins along the sides of the car force air into little spirals that create and trap a vacuum that 'seals' the edges of the car

The floor: the floor of an F1 car is covered in venturis - these are ducts that slowly expand toward their end. This both accelerates the particles in the air through the duct as they try to accommodate for the increase in space, but also decreases pressure under the car. The floor of the car is one of the biggest ways teams utilise ground-effect to increase downforce!

Ride height: adjusting the ride height of an F1 car refers to adjusting how low it sits to the ground. Decreasing the ride height increases downforce according to Bernoulli's principle. It is also one of the favoured ways to increase downforce, as it is one of the few that does so without massively increasing drag!

Sidepods: sidepods can be used to direct air flowing over the car toward the floor and into the venturis to increase downforce. Wide sidepods can also function in a similar way to the skirt of the car

Some of these components can be adjusted every race weekend to suit the conditions of the track. For example, the ride height can be adjusted, as can the angles of the front and rear wings. High downforce circuits (e.g. Monaco) are those where having a lot of downforce is advantageous. They are characterised by lots of corners, and very few, often short, straights. At these type of circuits, having low drag isn't super important - how attached to the floor you can get your car is!

Let's go porpoising! - Gunter Steiner

Porpoising refers to the rapid upward and downward movement of the body of the car as it bounces on its suspension. This is caused by the floor of the car being sucked too close to the floor, and the low pressure becoming problematic. It causes the air to stall underneath the car, which forces it to bounce up so the air underneath it can be released. This cycle continues over and over again, and you end up with porpoising!

The problem arose after the regulation changes for the 2022 season, when using the ground effect to generate downforce was allowed again! It dominated the way F1 cars were engineered throughout the 1970s and early 1980s, and then was disallowed after regulation changes. There were fears about cars losing the downforce generated from the ground affect, and then shooting off the track. The FIA reintroduced it in an attempt the reduce the effect of dirty air.

Porpoising became so wide-spread and severe among the teams that the FIA had to stage a technical intervention with a change to the regulations. The edges of an F1 car's floor have to be 15mm further away from the surface of the track than previously, which allows stalled air to be released and decreases the area of low pressure underneath the car. This appears to have fixed the problem! However, porpoising is still one of the more memorable parts of the 2022 season.

How does this help me understand what Adrien Newey is cooking in there?

I know that the title of the primer suggests that I do, in fact, know 'what Adrien Newey is cooking in there.' I regret to inform you that I don't. He's beyond all of us.

But, if you have any questions or want to chat more technical F1 stuff with me, my ask box is open and I'm happy to talk! Hope this helped :)

[samarecharm]

Akira can be invited literally anywhere and enjoy himself bc he just likes hanging w his friends all the time; hes the perfect parallel play buddy :) makes me think he was a bit of a social butterfly even before the Shido incident; he gets more energy being around his friends than being cooped up alone in that attic

[fujii-draws]

drawing a comic in which Dusknoir is having the worst time of his fucking life

[skitskatdacat63]

Boy King Seb :D

[gemwolfz]

this would have been posted like half an hour later if i wasnt so suddenly compelled to draw the rest of the platoon as #girls so giroro could have friends to go to the mall with :), anyway the rest of todays frog doodles

[impossible-rat-babies]

thinking about ffxiv players debatably not explaining things well, but last night I got orbonne and someone asked “what happened there? how do I avoid that?”

and someone typed back: “show your hole” and that was it

[anaalnathrakhs]

“work meeting” this evening wish me luck i want to run away and die

[hiisheart]

( ok so i'm home today. but at what cost? )

[rafeandonlyrafe]

borrowed clothes

words: 800

warnings: 18+ only, smut, female receiving oral, unprotected p in v sex, mentions of male masturbation, friends to lovers

“rafe, can i borrow your panthers jersey?” you ask, walking into his closet without even waiting for permission.

“you know, you always steal my clothes and never give me any of yours in return.” rafe points out, following you in to the walk in, seeing you already looking through his shirts, trying to find the nfl jersey.

“its sports night, rafe.” you roll your eyes. your favorite bar does themed nights that allow discounted drinks if you come in theme. “you have a million sports things to wear, and i have none.” you remind your best friend.

“all im saying is its unfair.” rafe smiles at you as you find the jersey you were thinking of, knowing his closet better than he does. it’s just a part of being friends for your entire life, best friends.

“okay, here.” you tug your black tshirt off, having planned to wear it underneath rafes jersey, but you can deal with just your bra. rafe looks away from your chest, despite having seen you in just your underwear or swimsuit a million times.

you toss the material at him before tugging the oversized jersey over your head, tucking the front into your tiny miniskirt. “how do i look?” you ask rafe, who is now holding your discarded tshirt in his hand.

rafe nods. “good.” its all he can force himself to say. better than sexy, hot, so good that he wants to bend you over right in the closet and shove that little skirt up and bury his cock in your-

“great!” you smile. “now we gotta find something sporty for you.” you hum, turning back to his closet.

--

“rafey?” you call, entering tanneyhill without knocking. you haven’t asked permission to enter since you were a child, with rafes house being your second home.

“he’s in the shower.” wheezie calls out from the living room.

“thanks wheez!” you ruffle her hair as you walk past, teasing her like she was your own little sister.

you head up to rafes room, flopping onto the bed as you pull your phone out, waiting for rafe to finish up in the shower, hoping he won’t take too long.

you scroll through tiktok, letting out a yawn with a big stretch, readjusting and sliding your hand under rafes pillow. you frown when realize your fingers graze over a weird material, feeling oddly stiff and not something that belongs on rafes bed.

you sit up, moving the pillow to reveal your black tshirt, now covered in white stains. you frown and move it closer to inspect the fabric, eyes widening when you realize what you are holding in your hands.

your mind moves at a thousand miles a minute, realizing that rafe has been jacking off into your shirt. the implications are clear, the one piece of clothing item that he has of yours, and he uses it to get himself off?

you toss the piece of fabric back down, slamming the pillow back on top of it right as rafe opens the bathroom door, towel wrapped around his waist.

“i-i can explain.”

--

“f-fuck!” you shout out, rafes head buried in your cunt, tongue lapping over your pussy, finally tasting you like he's long awaited to. “why did it take us so long to do this?”

rafe just smiles against your cunt, glad that he didn't need to give a real explanation as you hopped off the bed and kissed him, realizing that your feelings echoed his after seeing your tshirt, suddenly feeling just as pent up.

“should have just fucked me instead of cumming all over my shirt.” you whine as his tongue flicks over your clit.

“ill buy you a new one.” rafe sucks your clit into his mouth, determined to make you cum. you let out a cry, your high building.

a shiver spreads throughout your body as rafes mouth brings you to orgasm, a scream being forced out of your body, not caring that there are other people in the house that could hear.

“fuck, you taste so good baby.” rafe moans into your cunt, tongue swiping out again until you gently push his head away, not able to take anymore on your sensitive clit.

rafe rises up, draping himself over your body. he gives you a deep kiss, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.

“i can't believe you were jacking off into my shirt thinking of me.” you giggle. 

“oh god, you're never gonna let me forget that, are you?” rafe groans, moving lower to rub his cock between your folds, soaking it in your wetness.

you laugh before it's cut off by rafes lips.

“can i fuck you y/n?” rafe asks, lining himself up with your entrance.

“yeah.” you nod. “yeah, need you.”

“last chance to rethink this. because once i enter you, we can't just be friends anymore.”

“i know, i know.” you peck a kiss to rafes lips. “hurry up and fuck me already.”

rafe smiles down at you as he slowly presses forward, your walls giving way to his thick cock.

“i love you.” rafe admits with a gasp.

“i love you too.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart

[bunnysbrainrot]

Discreet

Kinktober Prompt: Dirty Talk

Relationship: Dean Winhester x Reader

Content: Sexual content, implied sex, sexting, Dean has a breeding kink, mentions of cum/creampies, exhibitionism fantasies.

Summary: While trying to focus on research, Dean executes a plan to distract you, shamelessly in front of his brother. Can you hold it together, or will you crack under the pressure?

"Hold on, I think we're looking at the wrong Louisville," Sam speaks up. You whip your head to the brother before opening your laptop to inspect for yourself.

Dean arches an eyebrow, "Sam, there are a million Louisville's, you gotta narrow it down."

In his lap, Dean begins to type into his phone. You shift in your seat, staring at your open laptop, opened to a list of different states that are each home to a different Louisville. In your back pocket your phone vibrates against your chair. You glance at Dean before opening the new notification.

I'm bored.

You stifle a laugh but roll your eyes, replying to Dean.

Another vamp case isn't enough for you?

You see Dean smirk out of your periphery. Sam's brows furrow as he mutters to himself, scrolling through different sites and resources, occasionally asking for your and Dean's input.

"We've checked Kentucky and Georgia already - I think Ohio should be next on our list."

"Since when do Vampires attack cities just based on its name?"

Sam clears his throat. Your phone vibrates in your hand; you swiftly check the message, but instantly forget the start of Sam's explanation.

You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you right now.

A rush of red floods your cheeks before you shove the phone back into your pocket. You snap back to attention for Sam, though your mind is traveling elsewhere.

"The way I see it, vampires can have a pretty twisted sense of humor. It's possible that vamps from all of these different states thought it would be funny to go after their own Louisvilles."

Despite Sam's talking, Dean's attention is set on you as you try to pay attention. He smiles when he watches you falter over Sam's words, and laughs when you have to ask Sam to repeat part of what he said. Of course Sam pays little mind at first and simply reiterates, but still shifts his attention to Dean. You take a break to reply to him.

right now??? Dean we're literally in the middle of our research.

A swift reply from a too-cool Dean: I know.

You put down your phone with a short exhale and school yourself back into a research mindset. A few minutes pass without a disturbance, save for the occasional comment or question from you or Sam, but there was radio silence from Dean. Until he prods further, at least.

"Hey, check the link I sent you," after you perk your head up, you realize that Dean's focus is on you once again.

"Could you send it to me, too, Dean?" Sam requests.

Dean quickly changes the subject, "It's not for the case, it was somethin' we were talking about earlier. But trust me, if I find anymore nerd content, I'll send it your way."

Sam gives his brother a glare before he tends back to his laptop. You comply with Dean and look at your phone, and it takes everything in your willpower to keep yourself collected.

I would fuck you on this table right now, if I could. You're lucky I don't want to scar Sam for life.

You accidentally chuckle, bringing Sam to attention again. You mutter an apology at his confused look and you both look back to your computers. Hiding your phone behind your laptop screen and out of view, you watch the flood of Dean's texts come in.

You would sound so much prettier if I could hear your screams echo off the walls.

Warmth floods between your thighs - you instinctively clench onto nothing but the thought of Dean buried in you, splayed wide on the mahogany table. Your mind rushes to the idea of Dean bending you over onto the wood, holding you firmly at the hips as he juts his hips from behind.

Everything alright, sweetheart?

His teasing leaves you scowling at your phone. Hopefully your expression could be assumed to be directed at your research, which hasn't made any progress, no thanks to Dean. You debate your reply before sending it.

What else would you do?

You see a smile stretch Dean's lips as he prepares his response. You tense as you await, but his text is drawn out, making you wait. Dean was delivering this flawlessly - just enough to watch you squirm and lose yourself to the thoughts.

I would start out slow. Ideally you'd just be in a t-shirt and panties, sitting right here in front of me on the table. I would lean you back, and slowly pull your panties to the side...

It was all he gave you, for the time being. You shift in your seat again, clicking your laptop a few times to build the illusion of intent research.

Your phone buzzes with a new message.

I would start with my fingers. I'd tug your panties to the side, and slip a finger in. You'd sound so much better when you'd try to keep quiet. I would make you come with one finger, then two, then three.

The reply to him is short, but it's all you can muster as you've fallen under his spell, Would we be alone?

Dean clears his throat before he rises from the table. He holds an arm in front of his crotch and quickly turns to leave for the kitchen.

"Want a beer?" he asks generally.

Fuck, you needed more than a beer. To deal with this, he should've offered a handle of vodka for you to drown out the untimely advances.

"Sure," echo you and Sam, smiling at each other that you spoke at the same time. After all these months with the brothers, you all had really begun to mimic behaviors. It was a beautiful sign of the time you've shared and the intricate work you all put into your relationships.

It's a nice way to clear your clouded head. That is, until you see a new reply from Dean. You make a particular effort to watch Sam out of the corner of your eye.

Doesn't matter. If someone was home, they'd have a hell of a show.

You quip, You're feeling pretty bold, huh?

He reminds you, Again, you're lucky I don't want to scar Sam for life.

Dean comes back into the room, meticulously holding three beers in one hand, while he texts with the other. You're intently eyeing your phone as you await his reply.

I'd add my tongue, too. I know exactly what pretty sounds you make when I've got my fingers in your pussy, and your clit in my mouth. You'd look so pretty trying to grip onto the table.

The scowl stitching your brows together softens as you feed into the flirtations. A fresh flow of heat melts between your legs, reminding you immediately of the power Dean could have over your body, even without using his hands.

You'd be shaking by the time I was done. You would be begging like you always do. Begging for my cock, begging me to fill up your needy pussy. Cause my hands just aren't enough to fuck you dumb, are they?

Breath hitches in your throat. Are you seriously about to full-on sext Dean right in front of his brother? Surely, Sam would have to notice at some point, though Dean shows no sign of him regarding it.

No, sir, you admit. You prop your phone back on your laptop and 'continue to research', pathetically at that.

Sweet girl is always needing my big cock to ruin her insides, isn't she?

The image of Dean's length intrudes your thoughts, throbbing and leaking with beads of precum. You can envision its warmth at your entrance, and the way Dean notches the thick head of him into your tight hole before he eases himself inside. Your fingers ache with the effort of not shoving them into your slicked panties to toy with yourself.

Dean's teasing doesn't ease in the slightest. If anything, it seems like he's trying to have you undone. Begging.

You'd ride me in the chair, first. I would have you fuck yourself onto my cock, but you wouldn't be able to come yet. Not until I can watch the way I stretch you open on the table.

Sam's muttering saves you from falling too deep into the rabbit hole Dean's excavated for you. You steady your breath, debating the risk of replying back to Dean. If he's finding amusement in doing this, you can't tell - his expression is cool and collected, to your frustration.

Do you know that your tummy bulges when I'm inside you? I'd make you watch. You'd see how my big cock shoves into that tight pussy, stretching her wide open for me.

You squirm helplessly in your seat, crossing your legs to stifle the dull throbbing radiating from your clit. With your thighs shifting together, you brace yourself to finally issue a reply.

You're mean

Dean audibly chuckles. Sam inspects him and scowls, "Dean, are you even doing your research? We really need to work on this - we're leaving tomorrow."

The eldest Winchester trains his expression back to utter seriousness, "Y'gonna wring my neck for taking a break?"

"This is important-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Dean dismisses, zoning back in on his own laptop and ignoring his glaring brother. You ease slightly now that the heat is pushed to Dean. But, the texts don't stop. Dean assumes a stronger façade, steeling his poker face.

You like it, though. I don't think you understand how wet you get when I'm a little mean. You love being my perfect slut. I wish you knew how tight you feel when I call you a whore.

The answer was evident in your sex. Your walls flutter around the emptiness in your neglected pussy, longing for a proper filling. Lust glazes your eyes as you glance up at Dean, finding him smirking knowingly at you. Fuck him. He knows exactly what he's doing to you.

"Dean, I'm sending you some articles. These are from the Lousiville in Ohio - those deaths look pretty similar."

Sam's words fall on deaf ears. After a few moments, Dean finally opens the links his brother sent him, giving you a bit of a break from his relentless texts.

You direct your attention back to your laptop and ogle at the screen. The thoughts Dean planted in your mind run a rough course, battering you with each thrust and moan that could be happening if you and Dean were alone.

Assuming Dean's read the articles, you stare at his next text, heat rumbling in your gut.

Would you be a good cumslut? Would you take my cock like a needy little whore?

He needs an answer. Dean needs to know that his words are taking effect, and he wants to hear it from you - how eager you are.

You reply, I would. I'll be a good girl.

Because you know what I do with brats, right? Dean's reply shudders through your core.

This time, you don't reply. Ultimately, his question is rhetorical and answered immediately in your subconscious. Any sort of bratty behavior is quickly corrected by either Dean's punishment, or a complete denial of any stimulation until you were begging for Dean's forgiveness. You'd spent countless times on your knees, in front of Dean's cock, begging for him to absolve you, and fuck you senseless.

If you're good, I'll give you what you want. How does it feel when my cum is deep inside of you?

The drenched fabric of your panties rubs against your slick folds. You adjust your sitting position, sitting up to let yourself open onto the material of your underwear. Ever so slightly, you grind yourself in your seat, watching Sam intently out of the corner of your eye, hoping he won't notice the feeble attempt to get yourself off.

The reply is short, It feels good, sir.

Dean clears his throat, and pretends to open a web browser.

I know, sweetheart. Feels good to keep me in your sweet pussy, keeping all of my cum for yourself. It feels so good to breed your cunt.

A deeper strain aches at your arms, urging yourself to take your own break to relieve yourself in the bathroom. Dean can see you squirm in your chair, and intentionally avoid his stare.

He texts you again, trying to earn a visible response to his taunts.

After I'm done, I would hold your legs open and watch my cum leak out of you. One of these days, I want to see how many times I can do it in a day. You'd be messy all day long.

You envision it yourself - the foreign image of white, warm ropes of Dean's cum spilling out of your stretched cunt and onto the floor below, wasted. Tightness pulls your abdomen taught as you think about being bred for an entire day, all to Dean's satisfaction. Your pussy clamps down onto nothing, yet again, at the sheer thought of it.

"I'll send you the same articles I sent to Dean. Let me know what you think," Sam is honing in on you this time. You nod and keep an eye out for the incoming links, and click on them. Eyeing them intentionally, you try to shove aside the persistent fantasies from taking over your senses.

Another text pops up on your screen.

It would be a lazy day. In the morning I would fuck you slow, giving you your first load of the day. We'd make lunch. You'd still be sore, but not as sore as you'd be after we eat.

Your mind travels elsewhere. The computer screen fades out of your attention as your eyes glaze over again.

I would fuck you on the kitchen table. You'd pull your panties up right after I was done and sit in my cum for hours, waiting for more. I wouldn't let you take those panties off. You wouldn't waste anything I gave you.

He was exactly right. It didn't matter how many times Dean had spilled himself into you, you relished the feeling of his cum buried deep inside of your pussy, precisely where it should be.

You want to touch yourself, don't you, sweetheart?

Your fingers twitch at the screen, as if they want to follow Dean's question to provide him a swift answer.

I want you to fuck me.

Dean's smirk grows. Your breath grows strained as he replies.

Needy little slut.

It would've been your undoing if it weren't for Sam's company. You throw a pitiful look toward Dean, but it goes ignored.

You'd let me take you anywhere in this bunker, wouldn't you? I could fill you up in every room of this place.

You reeled over the number of room's in the bunker, listing them off until you lost count. The slick between your folds soaks your panties further as you writhe gently in your chair.

I know you will. You would love knowing that I've stuffed your cunt in every room. And no one else would know, but we would. It would give you plenty to think about.

The mere idea of it gave you more than enough to go off of. How Sam hasn't realized that something's amiss, you don't understand, but are silently thankful that he can't see your unraveling. Dean, however, cannot focus on anything else. The strain of his cock against his jeans is bordering on discomfort, but he intends to keep you under his spell.

He lowers a hand to his lap and slightly grazes the growing bulge. Dean seems to have teased himself just as much as he did you - all thoughts of research dissolved in the presence of his new fantasies.

I'll bet you $10 that Sam is gonna run an errand after this. We should see how well we can use the free time.

A new tension tightens in your tummy. There would be no telling how long Sam would be occupied for, but Dean didn't see any qualms.

Yes, but maybe not in the main hall, for everyone to see us?

Your compromise is accepted. Dean nods slightly across from you, still staring at his laptop screen, then glancing to his phone.

Prude.

Under the table, you kick Dean's shin. He yelps at the new pain in his leg, earning a confused look from his brother. Sam looks between the two of you quizzically.

"Do y'all need a room to yourselves, or something?"

Dean smiles at his brother, avoiding your new glare, "No, no, we're fine. Aren't we, baby?"

The glare doesn't let up, but you don't reveal the truth of your texts with Dean. You look to Sam and jab a thumb toward his brother.

"He's being a dick, can you punch him for me?"

Without question, Sam delivers a firm punch to Dean's arm. Dean's shocked frustration is met with a devilish smirk from you, satisfied that you're now blameless. A moment after the brotherly bickering, a new text lights up your phone.

You're mean

You giggle at the screen and send him a final reply, letting him sit with the thoughts he'd poured into both of your heads.

I know. But, you like it.

Hey everyone! If you enjoyed, please help support my writing by reblogging!

Apologies that this took so long. I appreciate all of your kind messages as I balance how busy life has been lately. Thank you for all of your love and support! Happy reading!

-Bunny

[lecliss]

Intermission complete fifnkfnffkn sweet babey boy Nero and poor poor Sonon 😭😭😭😭😭 and thats sadly a wrap on the remake, but I still have crisis core I have to go back to and finish. I also wanna play dirge of cerberus again even more now. With the new things from remake so far, it makes me suuuuper interested in seeing a remake DoC version of Yuffie and Nero's interactions cuz now she already knows who he is and obviously has a vendetta against him. She wouldnt be so goofy in front of him like in the original. Oh my god, just thinking about potential remake DoC is freaking me the fuck out aaaaaaaaa. But anyway the most important thing here is now I am finally free to watch the old streams and lets plays that Ive been wanting to watch since 2019!!! I can finally enjoy other peoples misery!!!! Yaaaayy 🎉🎉🎉

[nocreativityfornames]

Mammon: Wait, wait, wait. So you're tellin' me that if Lucifer had been nicer, you would've never tried goin' up in the attic a second time?

MC: Yeah.

Levi: Wait, what? How…?

MC: Alright, look. There were two reasons why I wanted to go into the attic. One: I was hearing Belphie's voice from there asking for help, and two: Lou was acting suspicious as fuck about it with the whole threatening me and shit.

Lucifer: I-

MC: Shh, let me explain!

Lucifer: …

Belphie: Pff…

Satan: So what, you're saying that if Lucifer hadn't acted the way he did, you would've just given up? No trying to go into the attic, no suspicion, you would've just ignored Belphie's voice and went on with your day?

MC: Absolutely. I mean, think about it: I had just gotten here, and someone not wanting a stranger to go into certain parts of their house is kinda reasonable. And like I said, it wasn't the "not letting me go there" thing that made me want to go there, it was the suspicious behavior!

Because again, you threatened me and just started being an overall dick after you caught me trying to go upstairs.

Lucifer: MC-

MC: But I understand your reasons, you were worried, wanted to protect your family, and bla-bla-bla. Don't worry, it's fine. We've come a long way, I love you, you love me, and there's that. But going back to the topic…

Asmo: 🤭

Lucifer: 👿

Asmo: 😦🤐

MC: So the point is, you catch me going to the attic, and you threaten to kill me if I try doing it again. You don't try to explain, don't try to convince me I shouldn't go there, you just go: "I have this tea that will put you to endless sleep, muahahahaha."

All brothers (except Lucifer): *try not to laugh*

MC: And in my head, I go: "Bet. Imma see what the fuck's up there, and you old man, you ain't stopping me."

Asmo, Beel & Mammon: 😨😦😳

Belphie & Satan: *wheezing in silence*

Lucifer: *glares at them*

MC: But that could've been prevented! Like, if you hadn't threatened me, and tried to explain why I shouldn't go there in the first place-

Lucifer: I couldn't tell you the truth.

MC: Well, you could've come up with anything! Because remember, I had just dropped here, in literal fucking hell. So you could've told me literally ANYTHING and I would've believed you. Like, you could've just told me the room was cursed by an evil spirit or something. Because I'd hear that and go: "Alright, have a nice day. I'm never stepping foot on these stairs again."

Beel: Pff...

MC: But nooo, Mr. Pride had to go: "I won't give you ANY explanation, and I will KILL you if you try going there again." And that combined with the strange voice asking for help? It did not give you a great look, I gotta say...

All brothers (except Lucifer): *already laughing their ass off at this point*

Lucifer: …

Belphie: Wow...

[autistichalsin]

Okay I know I've made like three posts about this one specific thing but I gotta say, anyone who calls Halsin a typical boring Druid either doesn't understand Halsin or doesn't understand Druids, because Halsin is very much an atypical Druid.

Just a few ways Halsin is different than other Druids:

He can't control his wildshape. He transforms involuntarily when under stress, which is not a thing other Druids experience, and he can't control himself fully in wildshape either. He retains traits, such as an enhanced sense of smell, out of his wildshape form, and has the ability to remain as a bear borderline indefinitely, instead of Druids usually only being able to maintain the same form for a couple hours at most.

He doesn't hate undead; he views them the same as living creatures, worthy of life. He cares for Astarion deeply, and is furious if the player allows the 7,000 spawn to die. (He's a little nicer if they do it for a mercy kill instead of the ritual, but is clearly only happy when they are released into the Underdark, the exact thing a Druid is supposed to want to avoid.)

He dislikes the city because it displaces nature, yes, but he VERY rarely says that. Instead, almost every time he laments the conditions of Baldur's Gate, what distresses him is how capitalistic systems harm sentient beings- especially children. He is more upset at the human(oid) suffering he encounters in the city than he is at how it displaces nature.

Halsin is on an obviously morally good alignment. While Druids are no longer required to be neutral, most still are anyway, especially those from the Emerald Enclave, which the Emerald Grove is part of.

Emerald Enclave Druids are encouraged to sabotage society; they breed aggressive animals and place them near settlements to deter development, secretly sponsor brigands to attack new settlements, and simultaneously interact with local populations by providing sweet drinks and teas to boost their public image, so that new developments are curtailed while nearby people think the Druids are kind and harmless. Halsin very notably never even thinks about doing such things, even though it would be trivial for him to do so.

While Halsin's explanation for wanting to stop the Absolute is initially far more in line with Druidic thinking (they're unnatural, obviously), he later grows to want it finished because he wants you, the player, and your friends to be safe.

Halsin has zero desire to ladder-climb in the ranks of the Druids, nor to grow more powerful; he was perfectly happy as he was before the Shadow Curse, and is quite upset he had to waste 100 years of his life "dealing with others' problems and personalities." BUT the fact that he was happy to just that as alderman of his commune suggests the problem was with being forced into the position and being relied on as the sole authority, instead of one trusted elder of many.

Halsin wants children desperately, but was kept from having them by his leadership role. This is yet another example of how, despite his deeply held beliefs, being a Druid ultimately made him less happy.

Halsin isn't very good at leading the Druids, to the point that many of his Druids resent him, many are swayed to a cult the instant he leaves, and he himself decides the best thing he could possibly do for the Grove is leave it and have a better leader come in and take over.

Nearly every struggle Halsin has in the game arises from a conflict with his Druidic beliefs- whether it's his need to cleanse the Shadow Curse causing him to be an ineffective leader of the Grove, his desire for a family being held back by his leadership role, or his love of humanity battling against his hatred for cities as unnatural blots on nature.

Basically, nearly every character beat Halsin has comes from him not being a typical Druid at all, and in some cases, from him being rather bad at being the things Druids are supposed to be.

[charliemwrites]

Woof woof… whimper

(Part 10… but technically a continuation of part 9)

Content: Dub-Con/Non-Con, Knotting

It takes your cock-addled brain a second too long to process what Soap’s just said. What he’s implied. And by then he’s all ready for you to buck against him, confused and angry.

“That’s so — that’s not funny!” You shout.

But he’s got you pinned thoroughly, your chest flat against the mattress and your ass flush against his hips. His cock buried so deep you can feel the hot head of it bullying the deepest parts of you. All your struggling does is make you clench up tight around him, makes him feel that much bigger and meaner inside you. Makes him grunt low and ragged in your ear, all animal appreciation.

“I’m not laughin’,” he replies, nipping at your shoulder.

“G-get off of me, get out, get—”

His hand slides into your hair again, gets a firm hold at the roots and presses your face into the blankets, muffling your protests. Shushes you like soothing a panicked animal.

“Now, now,” he chides, “I still gotta prove I’m not compensating, don’t I?”

You suck in a breath, squeezing your eyes shut. There have to be a million explanations other than the absolutely ludicrous one he’s just presented to you. Cameras, microphones….

How did he know where you live?

How did he know where the spare key was?

How did he know where your bedroom was?

How did he find you at the bar?

Stalker, you tell yourself. He’s a creep, you’ve always known that.

Then where’s your dog?

“N-no,” you warble, bucking again. Nearly scream as his cock twitches inside you; only reason you don’t is because you can barely breathe as it is. He’s so deep inside that he’s practically in your lungs. “No way you’re my — there’s no way. You’re crazy. I’m gonna— ah!”

He draws out as you speak, gradual, and then plunges in again all at once, cutting you off. Grinds his hips in a dirty circle too, burying himself as deep as he can.

“Aww, poor thing,” he coos. “S’alright, baby, I knew this would happen. We jus’ gotta get all those big, scary feelings out first. Then I can explain it all nice and slow.”

You try to scream at him. Try to curse him out, tell him there’s no way in hell you’re listening to a word he says now; never mind letting him spend another second with his dick in you.

All that comes out is a high-pitched keen as he starts fucking you without further preamble. It aches, but you can’t tell in what way. If it hurts, if it’s the best you’ve ever had. Both? Your nerves feel haywire, brain dragged to lust-stupid depths.

“See, there we go,” he rasps, punctuating with a sharp snap of his hips on that last word. “My perfect little mate. Your cunt was made for my cock, made to be bred by me. Isn’t that right?”

You try to shake your head, but his grip keeps you from doing more than sending electricity down your spine, hair pulled taut.

“Yeah it fucking is,” he growls to his own question, canting your hips back further. His fingers grip cruelly into the flesh, sure to leave bruises. You wish you didn’t enjoy the sensation, wish it didn’t make you spasm around him helplessly.

“‘Bout time I owned you right back, don’t you think?” He continues, never stopping or even slowing. You yelp as he tugs your necklace again, arching your back at a steep angle. “Even collared yourself up for me. All it needs is my name.”

Something about that drives some awful, slutty part of your brain fucking wild. The idea of you with a tight leather choker — a collar — with his name (you don’t think about what name) hanging from your throat…

“Like that, don’t you?” He chuckles meanly. “Who’s my good little slut? Who’s my perfect, soaked little breeding whore?”

Tears spring to your eyes as you realize the “I am” is right there on the tip of your over-saturated tongue. If you had air, brain cells, any ability at all, you’d be crying it to the ceiling like the toy he’s treating you as.

He’s going to ruin you, you think. He’s going to fuck you broken. You’re crying and wailing on his cock, think you’d actually throw a tantrum if he pulled out and left you on the edge right now. Would, you realize in horror, beg for him to keep going.

And then he snakes his hand around your hip and starts rubbing your clit — fast, hard little circles. Just the way you like; the way you’d do it yourself. Relentlessly and cruel, even when you try to writhe away from how fast you can feel yourself getting to the edge. Almost frightened by it, how quickly he’s mastered your body’s pleasure.

Frightened by the extra stimulation at your entrance, too. A little extra friction at first — shocking because you’re leaving a puddle on the sheets. But then the friction becomes pressure, becomes… more.

“W-wha….?” You slur, hips wriggling.

Soap (Johnny?) snarls in your ear and that feeling at your entrance grows. Feels, you realize with alarm, like stretching.

“Gonnae take my knot so well,” he rambles, accent thick like syrup, trickling into your empty brain, filling you up with meaningless sounds. “Plug you up full of my cum, breed you right just like you need.”

Any questions or confusion are whisked away by the extra stimulation at your entrance. The sensitive nerves getting just as much brutal attention as your inner walls, your cervix, that sweet spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back.

It all becomes too much all at once and crashes through you, devastating. You clamp down around him tight and needy, lean all your weight back into his thighs. And he practically howls as he sinks into you and stays, grinding and humping without ever actually pulling out again. You feel a flood of heat that seems to go on for an absurdly long time, cock pulsing against your overstimulated walls, milked for every last drop.

You shudder as your brain tries and fails to process it all. Like trying to decipher a foreign language from white noise. It’s nothing but static to you.

You can feel a tongue against your shoulder, scraped of blunt teeth. Soap/Johnny licking the sweat from your skin and nipping bruises into the flesh. You make an annoyed noise that comes out whinier than intended, shoving at his face.

“Get off, you bastard.” Your voice is pathetic, thick with tears and fractured in a hundred places.

“Can’t, bonnie, even if I wanted to.”

You scowl, try to look at him over your shoulder. He takes that opportunity to nuzzle against your temple.

“What?” You ask. “What are you talking about?”

“Did ye hear me?” He chuckles. “Well, maybe not with the way you were screamin’. You’re all knotted up, baby. Can’t pull out — ‘less you want this pretty pussy to tear.”

You jolt, nearly yank yourself off out of pure fear, but Johnny keeps you still again, humming.

“Easy now,” he croons. “Still fussy? Need another to settle down?”

Useless as your brain may be, it recognizes what he means by “another one.” You think you might pass out.

“No,” you snap, petulant even to your own ears. “I want you to explain… explain everything.”

“Alright, hen. C’mere.”

He gently lays you out prone on the bed, then rolls you both on your sides. Hitches your leg up over his hip. You want to protest, but it helps the ache in your poor cunt.

“H-how are you still hard?” You pant, traitorous pussy twitching around him.

He growls in your ear, can feel him grinning against the lobe. “Will stay that way for a bit, lass. Don’ worry, you jus’ have to lay here all nice and still. Keep me warm while I explain things to you.”

And he does. How there are shapeshifters out there in the world, rare as they are. That he comes from a line of them. Recruited to military, as most of them are.

How he was on standard patrol when he smelled you for the first time.

“Like a wet dream, bonnie. Fertile. Spring. Smelled like mine.”

How he instantly knew you were his mate. That he just needed to make you see it. Never a good time to explain it all to you — and then there were interlopers and your silly little books and your pesky toys. How he tried to drop hints around the house, let you come to the correct conclusion on your own. But you never did.

“Honestly it’s a good thing I’m here, hen. You’re so oblivious. Lived with a man and never even knew it.”

That he tried to go about it the other way ‘round, as a man, but you’re just so stubborn. And then how it all led up to tonight. To you finally, finally realizing what you really needed: your mate.

You should be angry, furious. There’s a lot to say about… well, all of it. It’s horrifying and violating and… and…

And he hasn’t stopped bullying your clit since he started talking. Cruel, tight circles. Drawing the hood back with two fingers and stroke with a third, slow and languid and just soft enough to make your head spin. Rhythmless taps. Even pinches when you try to chew him out at one point, half turning to scowl. Instead have his tongue lapping sloppily at yours as your mouth gapes open soundlessly.

Makes you cum twice just like that without ever interrupting his own story, cock still hilted — knotted deep inside you. Honestly, you probably miss a good portion of it, some of the finger details for sure. But you get the broad strokes (among other strokes).

He licks at your overstimulated tears when he’s finished, nuzzling and kissing your cheek.

“I-I miss my dog,” you mumble finally, hands balled against your chest.

“Aww, darlin’,” he sighs, sounding genuinely apologetic. “We’re one and the same. I’m always your boy no matter what form I take.”

It would be more comforting if his dick didn’t throb calling himself your boy.

“‘Sides, I’m better than a normal mutt,” he continues, tugging you against his chest. You want to hate that is instantly makes you feel a little better. “Wolves mate for life, after all.”

First | Previous | 1fur1

Masterlist

[msfantasy-anime]

My Little Brothers Wife

Monkey D. Luffy x Wife!Reader x Platonic!Sabo

Summary: a requested short story on Koala delivering the news of Y/n’s bounty to Sabo.

Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV

Koala’s head leans back, letting the cool breeze blow out the strands of hair from her face. A moment of peace shattered when a rolled up news paper drops from a sky delivery, right into Koala’s lap, spraying the pages everywhere.

“Freakin birds I swear-“ Koala’s quite cursing halts seeing a wanted poster Monkey. Y/n, 100,000,000 berries, your full photo on display for all its glory. “WHAT?! WHAT?! WHAT?! WHAT?!” She screams to her self, haphazardly strewing the news articles until she locates the bounty explanation.

Monkey. Y/n, wanted dead or alive for a 100,000,000 berries after brutally assaulting a Marine Officer for implying husband, Monkey D. Luffy, of negative behaviour. Y/n’s unprovoked attack and straw hat pirate association has earned her a large bounty for a new comer. It is yet to be confirmed if Y/n is part of the straw hat crew or acts independently.

Koala bolted throughout the hideout with the wanted poster in hand to the only man with an explanation. “SABO!” Koala yells, shoving the wanted poster so close to Sabo’s face, all he could manage to see was a big ‘W’. “Look at this! Can you believe this? I thought we were friends and she didn’t even bother inviting me to the wedding! Did you know she got married?! Why wouldn’t she tell me?!” Koala pouted.

“Calm down a second would’ya. I can’t even see what you’re talking about.” Pulling the poster from Koala’s hand, she retreats with her arms crossed over her chest, a grumpy expression holding stead.

Monkey. Y/n.

A small smirk breaks across his lips. It’s good to see your still alive and well, and wrecking havoc like you swear you wouldn’t when you last met.

Figures.

“Well Koala, what do you want me to say? I even officiated their marriage.” He says with a taunting smile, making Koala gasp in betrayal. “Relax, those two have been married for 12 years now.”

“12 years?! But they’re only-wait… 12 minus… hey, that doesn’t make any sense! You’re saying they got ‘married’ when they were only kids? So it’s not real.”

“No. It’s real.” Sabo says smiling softly once again as he looks at the wanted bounty. “That’s my little brothers wife.”

“So, you’ve got a bounty now.” Sabo says into the transponder snail.

“I got a what?!” You yell back into the snail, the volume of your exclamation causes the sound waves to crackle.

“It reads Monkey. Y/n wanted dead or alive for 100 million berries.” Sabo says which only makes you scoff.

“I didn’t even do anything! How did I get that large of a bounty?!”

“It says you assaulted a marine officer.”

“……he had it coming! No one talks trash about Luffy. Man, this is so embarrassing, now the world thinks I’m married to that loveable doofus.”

“At least you finally have a family name right?“ The transponder line turns silent. Sabo knows you well enough that your smiling. But what he wasn’t expecting to hear what you admitted next.

“Yeah … it is actually. Monkey is a cool last name…and now it’s mine.”

“Seems like Luffy finally worn you down huh? So, will you join his crew?”

“I decided that-“ a loud explosion sounds off in the background. “THE SHIP IS UNDER ATTACK! Ugh! I gotta go Sabo, I’ll talk to you later.”