#i❤amber

[neroushalvaus]

Lindsay Ellis went full on You're Wrong About when discussing how Yoko Ono, Courtney Love, Meghan Markle, Monica Lewinsky, Amber Heard and so many other women have been treated by the media and the public, and it was amazing but it also filled me with rage

[lexyscross]

Scream movies will take the best characters of each movie and kill them off. 🙄

[selfshipping-shapeshifter]

I GOT HIM!! :D

anyway

[honeytonedhottie]

signature scents⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧁🍰

my signature scent is a mixture between sweets and gourmand smells. im an absolute sucker for a vanilla + gourmand blend and honestly, anything that smells sweet and like a bakery, I ABSOLUTELY NEED IT…💬🎀

NOTES I LOVE AND LOOK FOR ;

❤︎ pink icing

fragrances that include pink icing as a scent note -> bath and body works confetti cake pop.

❤︎ cotton candy

fragrances that include cotton candy as a scent note -> unicorn milkshake by the dua brand

❤︎ marshmallow

FRAGRANCES THAT I ALREADY HAVE AND LOVE + THEIR NOTES ;

❤︎ strawberry poundcake cake (bath and body work) the notes are strawberry, cupcake and whipped cream

❤︎ tease creme cloud (victorias secret) the notes are meringue, vanilla, sandalwood flower, musk and amber

❤︎ delina la rosée (parfums de marly) the notes are litchi, pear, turkish rose, white musk, woody notes and peony

❤︎ choco musk (al-rehab) the notes are vanilla, milk chocolate, white musk, and amber

❤︎ sweet tooth (sabrina carpenter) the notes are, marshmallow, madgascar vanilla, whipped cream, sugar and musk

[lamour-est-pur]

(A/N) Bonjour! This is my first time writing on this platform. my first language is not English so please be patient ❤

Ace X Reader

In which the reader returns to the ship injured but Marco is not there to help her, so ace steps in <3

Genre--> Fluff

Warnings--> mentions of injury, blood, use of y/n

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The Moby Dick rocked gently on the waves, a stark contrast to the turmoil in your stomach. You stumbled onto the deck, vision blurry from the throbbing pain in your head. A scouting mission gone wrong left you with a nasty gash on your arm and a bruised ego.

"Marco!" you croaked, hoping the ship's first division commander, with his mystical healing powers, would be lounging somewhere nearby. But the deck was deserted. Panic threatened to bubble up.

"Looks like someone's lost a fight,"  you hear Ace chuckle . You glanced over to see Ace sprawled out on the deck, a carefree grin plastered across his freckled face. The afternoon sun cast an amber glow on his raven hair, making it seem to almost shimmer.

He finally noticed the blood staining your sleeve, the grin fading into something akin to concern. "(Y/n)! What happened?"

You winced, leaning against the railing. "Just a little scrape," you mumbled, trying to downplay the throbbing ache in your arm.

Ace wasn't fooled. He gently brushed aside your hair, revealing the nasty gash across your shoulder. His playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a fierce protectiveness that warmed your heart, despite the aching pain 

"That doesn't look like a 'little' scratch to me," he said, his voice gruff. "Come on, let's get you patched up."

He slung one of your arms over his shoulder, ignoring your weak protest. His touch, surprisingly gentle, sent a jolt through you. You found yourself leaning into his warmth, the familiar scent of sea salt and fire making you feel strangely safe.

Inside the infirmary, Ace rummaged through the medical supplies, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Don't worry, I saw Marco do this plenty of times," he muttered, more to himself than you.

He cleaned your wounds with a surprising amount of care, his calloused fingers surprisingly gentle. As he wrapped a bandage around your arm, his eyes met yours.

"You shouldn't have gone out alone," he said softly, his voice devoid of its usual bravado. "We worry about you, you know."

Heat crept up your cheeks. Worry? From Ace? You mumbled something incoherent, your gaze drifting to the open window revealing the vast blue sky.

The air crackled with unspoken words. A comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the rhythmic creaking of the ship. 

"Thanks, Ace," you said finally, your voice barely a whisper.

He looked back at you, his freckled face breaking into a wide grin. "Anytime, (Y/n)." His eyes, the color of melted caramel, held a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine. In that moment, under the watchful gaze of the vast ocean, a new feeling bloomed in your heart, as sweet and heady as tangerines. It tasted like adventure, like friendship, and maybe, just maybe, something a little more.

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(A/N) Thank you for reading ❤ The next one I write will defiantly be much longer. I write for Almost every one piece character. REQUEST ARE OPEN!!! please give me ideas ❤

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[mattsfavseason]

Golden Hour Glow

credit: @bernardsbendystraws . (autumn air) Go read her fics they're amazing ❤

The crisp breeze of autumn slipped through the slightly open window, carrying with it the earthy scent of fallen leaves. But none of that mattered not when you were nestled in Matt’s arms, his body radiating a warmth that outmatched any blanket.

“Autumn’s undefeated,” he murmured, his voice low as his fingers absentmindedly traced patterns along your shoulder. “Everything about it… the colors, the air, the vibe. It’s perfect.”

You hummed in agreement, resting your head against his chest. “I mean, it is nice,” you teased, tilting your head to glance up at him.

“Nice?” he scoffed playfully, a grin spreading across his face. “Babe, it’s elite.”

His enthusiasm made you laugh, a soft sound that seemed to fill the cozy room. “You’re such a nerd about fall,” you teased again, but the fondness in your tone was unmistakable.

Matt chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Yeah, well, I’m also a nerd about you.”

Your cheeks burned instantly, and you buried your face into his chest to hide the growing blush. “Oh my god, stop,” you mumbled.

“Made you blush, didn’t I?” he teased, his laugh vibrating through you as his hand gently rubbed your back.

You groaned dramatically, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “You’re insufferable,” you muttered, though your arms tightened around him just a little bit more.

“I love you,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice warming you more than his embrace ever could.

“I love you too,” you replied, barely above a whisper, but you knew he heard it.

Outside, the world was painted in shades of amber and crimson, but inside, wrapped in Matt’s arms, it felt like golden hour timeless, warm, and perfect.

[gfguren]

@shotorus i… had to go lay down after reading this oh mY GOD?!?! are you kidding me?? i'm so! so! so! critical!! of my own writing, especially as of late! but then you just went and?? and!! complimented every line i wrote?! analyzed it like a book report?!?! called it a 'piece'?? a 'piece'?? are you kidding me?!?! when i saw this notif pop up my heart full on started doing twirls and shootin' fireworks and shit?!?!?! if you wanted me to fall in love with you just say so!!! im akjshdjh?!?!?! might fuck around and read this two or ten thousand more times idk ! think this cured my writers block, might go finish a wip or get my whole life together or something idk !!!!

pro hero!bakugou x sidekick!reader | fluff, mutual pining, blatant flirting, bakugou calls reader darlin', bakugou is soft(ish) | cw: injury, mentions of alcohol, name calling (idiot), kisses kisses kisses

-bakugou tends to your injury, pining for you nearly as much as you do for him-

Your arm burns in waves, like kindling fire, the plain between your elbow and wrist a bramble of red and purple. It stings like a million tiny thorns pricking your skin.

"Why'd ya get in the way, idiot!" Bakugou's words are fierce and his brow is drawn, but you see the way his cheeks flush. He's embarrassed, guilt-ridden though it's not his fault. Not really.

You were both too overzealous for your own goods, determined to land the final blow on the villains. But his quirk was bigger, more explosive, harder to stop when your hands inevitably collided. You're just lucky your arm took the brunt of it.

Still, you smile despite the pain and his frown deepens, "What? Ya hit yer head too?"

You take a step forward, then two, crossing the threshold of your front door, reveling in the way his blush travels to his ears. "Did you come all the way here just to nag me?" There's a lilt of amusement in your voice, and he huffs, exasperation on his breath. "Or are you finally gonna give me that?"

You point to the bag dangling from his fingertips, pharmacy label half hidden by his baggy combat trousers. He's still in costume, mask pushed up over his wild, blonde hair, light sheen of sweat dotting his forehead and shoulders.

He's a proper distraction from the pain at least.

His gaze falls to his own hand, as if he'd entirely forgotten. There's a palpable moment of hesitation, and then he grunts, knuckles clenching; he thrusts it against your chest.

"Did'ya sterilize it, at least?"

You're half listening, shuffling through the contents of the bag. "Mhm, rinsed it with water when I got home."

"Yer hopeless, darlin'."

You shrug, "If a little burn could take me out, I wouldn't be much of a hero, now would I?"

He snorts, "If ya were such a good hero, you'd have dodged in the first place."

"You think?" You humor his attitude, heart swelling in your chest when you spot your favorite candy hidden beneath the ointments and bandages. You have half a mind to tease him about it. "Are you gonna help me put this on?"

His arms fold across his chest, half a scowl twisting his face. He leans back, tapping a heavy boot against the floorboards. "And why would I do that?"

He must think he's subtle but you read him like a book, finger the pages, read between the lines. There's worry in his brow, guilt, turmoil, anger directed at his own self.

You figured it would help alleviate his conscience, at least.

"That's fine. I'll get around to it eventually." You turn on your heel, adding a cheeky "probably" to accentuate the wave of your hand, nudge him into action. It works.

Warm fingers encircle your wrist and you bite your tongue, suppress the laugh inching it's way up your throat. Predictable, cute. It takes everything in you not to grin.

Two big hands push you down by the shoulders, cushions folding beneath your thighs. Bakugou holds a palm out expectantly and you place your own atop his, reveling in the way his nose scrunches in frustration.

You don't miss the way he lets it linger - just for a moment - before finally swatting it away with a half-hearted flick of the wrist. "The ointment, idiot."

You relent, handing him the thin white tube. He spreads a stripe down his fingertips, seat dipping beside you; he extends his opposite hand. "Now your hand."

You grin, fingers gently curling around his own. It's not meant to be romantic, the way he draws you forward, presses your knuckles to his chest. He's just trying to get a better look at the wound, head tilting this way and that. But his hand is so warm, and he's so pretty from this angle, and when his eyes rise to meet yours his breath hitches in his throat; and so does yours.

It's intimate, familiar.

It makes you want to break whatever this unspoken 'something' is that the two of you have fostered - this growing affection you're both too proud to admit that wears on you, leaves you yearning to lean just a little closer and finally concede.

Just like all those nights ago, when he got a little too drunk at the hero convention, quickly annoyed by the crowds and reporters, the loud, boasting heroes. His champagne glass was quickly emptied once more, grunting when he pushed back in his chair. You remember leaning closer, close enough to discretely ask if he was alright. His red hot stare followed, burned through your chest and down to your core, left you shifting restlessly in your seat.

The air was thick when he finally careened upward, swaying perilously as he took you by the wrist, led you up and out of the dining hall until it was just the two of you, alone in an empty corridor. You could still hear the echo of stranger's voices, but it didn't bother him, not when he crowded you against the wall, not when his big hand fell to the space beside your head, or when his face dipped to linger just close enough to have your heart beating wildly in your chest.

"What about the party?"

"'as boring." He'd replied, fingers 'round your wrist, lingering on your pulse; he feels it stutter beneath his touch. "Ya scared?"

You would be, should be, if it was anyone else. Big, leering, all rippling muscle and explosive temper - but it was Bakugou, your mentor, your best friend, heart of a hero and handsome as hell. You've loved him as long as you've known him.

"No."

He'd grinned, leaned forward til' his lips found yours, deeper, sweeter than you'd ever imagined, and gods you had, too many times.

"Good."

You're so lost in thought that you miss the way skin meets skin, thin buffer of ointment between you, and it burns - his fingers against your aching forearm. Your cheeky smile twists into a grimace and you can almost taste his guilt.

"Quit bein' a baby." Bakugou's bark holds no bite, touch softening until his rough fingers border featherlight. "Yer a hero, r'member."

You watch as he carefully applies the medicine, touch gentling each time you flinch until he's barely touching you at all.

"You've said that a lot today. 'Hero'." You muse. "It's usually sidekick this, sidekick that."

He shoots you a look before wiping the ointment from his fingers. "Yer my sidekick."

"Yeah?" You tilt your head, leaning forward to rest your chin on your unattended hand. "And what's the difference?"

He could answer you honestly, if he wanted. You're capable, brave, strong in your own right - beautiful to boot. You're the best of the best; Bakugou would never settle for less after all. Not that he was going to admit that.

Instead his lips twist in amusement, curling, lopsided, askew; you realize you won't be getting a straight answer.

"Ya should know by now when t' stay out of my way, is the difference." He pulls a bandage as big as his fist from the bag, pressing one corner to the flat of your palm, working it up and around until it reaches your wrist, and further still. "Was perfectly capable of handlin' it on my own."

"Seemed like you had your hands full with the big guy," you quip back, rubbing your thumb absently over the scratchy bandage. "Was I supposed to watch while the other one pummeled you from behind?"

He quirks a brow, you're not sure if he's annoyed or amused. "Woulda been fine. How d'ya think I made it to the top twenty, 've practically got eyes on the back of my head."

"You sure? Think I recall a time or two you've been whacked upside the head."

His eyes stray for only a moment, simmering up at you beneath dark lashes. "Think we might need t' get yer eyes checked, darlin', seems yer seein' things."

"Guess I need a hearing test too, since I remember you being a total crybaby about it."

He centers the tips of his thumb and pointer just above your brow, fingertips bouncing off your forehead, a tepid flick! and he's resuming his handiwork.

"Hey!" you pout, rubbing the offended area with your unfettered hand. "I'm a patient, you're supposed to be nice to me!"

"And who's fault is that." He grins, light and easy and gone in an instant, with a flash of realization, guilt that reaches his eyes and worries his brow. It's his, still.

You sigh, "Look at me." And he does, begrudgingly as it may be. "It's not your fault. I should have trusted you more. And you should have trusted me. We're both idiots so quit blaming yourself." You lightly flick his forehead in return; he doesn't flinch, eyes never leaving your own. "Finish the wrapping and we'll call it even, yeah?"

He grumbles something lost on you, stretching the last bit of fabric beneath your elbow and tucking it into itself. He turns your arm over in his palm, lightly, carefully inspecting it before leaning back against the cushions. You can feel his guilt dissipate, the stress in his shoulders slowly deflating.

"Ya hurt anywhere else?" His voice is low, quiet. He desperately hopes not.

You think for a moment, read his face, his body language, and then you're rubbing the space above your brow, faking a pout if only to lighten the mood. "Yeah, some brute bruised my forehead earlier, think it needs medical attention."

He crosses his arms, muscles flexing, brow tightening in discontent. "I'm being serious."

You struggle to suppress the laugh bubbling up in your chest. "So am I. What a devastating injury, I fear I won't live long." You dramatically throw yourself over his lap, knuckles laid flat over your brow. There's a conflicting look in his eye; you struggle to read it. "If only a big, handsome hero woul-"

You nearly miss the annoyed huff, the subtle roll of his eyes, too enamored in the way he encircles your wrist with one big hand, guides it to rest against his chest before leaning down and pressing his lips to your forehead.

You're sure there's hearts in your eyes when he straightens his shoulders, hand still idle against his heartbeat; his thumb absently strokes the soft underside of your wrist but his gaze doesn't linger. A hint of a blush creeps up his neck, eyes fixated on the opposite corner of the room. "Done bein' a crybaby?"

You try and fail, miserably so, to hide the delight dancing in your chest and curling your toes. There's a grin splitting your cheeks when you sit up, face an inch from his own. "Mhm."

You can feel his breath, his hesitation, the slippery, fluttering feelings he's struggling to catch, and name, and put into words. He decides it's easier to turn his back to them, to you - again.

It's always the same song and dance, one step forward, two steps back.

He's up in a moment, fidgeting with his tank, his gloves, his mask, anything he can get his hands on. You sigh, pushing off the couch, taking one step, two, arms wrapping snug around his middle. "What're ya doin'?"

"Checking something."

"And what's that?"

"Whether or not you have eyes on the back of your head." He ignores your teasing, so you press a little further, tease a little more. "Either you don't," you squeeze him tighter, closer, smush your cheek against his back. "Or you totally just let me hug you."

He croons his head to stare you down, if looks could kill, you'd be very very toasty right about now. Still you laugh, hide your smile in the shadow of his broad shoulders, tip toe around him when twists around to face you.

Finally he catches you, two big hands clamped down on either shoulder. You wait for him to scold you, tongue between your teeth, bated breath in your lungs. But he only grunts, fingers curling around the base of your neck until he can slant his lips over your own.

You sigh, it's the second time Katsuki Bakugou's lips have been on yours. But they no longer taste of saltines, white wine, impulse or hesitation; it's not some drunken mistake or whimsy he'll pretend to have forgotten by morning. This time he's kissing you because he wants to. Because the feelings he harbors are just the same as yours.

And when he pulls away his red eyes have mellowed, a dull amber, an expectant cinnabar. There's a palpable silence, one beat, two, three - possibly. His impatience gets the better of him. "Well?"

You stifle a laugh, keen up at him, hands absently against his chest. "Well what?"

"What d'ya mean 'well what'?!"

What ever self control you had wavers, the incredulous look in his eyes sending you over the edge until your devolving into a fit of laughter.

"What's so funny, huh?"

"'m sorry." The laughter rattles you, chest like a suitcase too small to pack away the joy that fills you, spills over the brim in fits of laughter. It's infectious; Bakugou grins.

Your hands cup his cheeks. "You're too cute not to tease."

He sucks on his teeth. "Cute huh?" His hand cups your wrist, thumbs the bandage, careful, cute. "I nearly cooked ya and 'm 'cute?'"

You lean forward, bump your nose against his. "Mhm."

"There's somethin' wrong with you."

"Yeah, it's called the guy I like is completely oblivious and won't tell me he likes me."

"I kissed you, twice. If ya didn't take the hint, that's on you."

You're smiling when you press your lips to his - quick, tepid, chaste, and over and over and over again.

He breaks away, eyes full of suspicion. "What was that for?"

"What? Didn't you take the hint?" You slant your mouth over his, linger a little longer this time. "I like you." You kiss him again, again, again.

He snorts, palm falling to the small of your back, big hand heavy on your skin. "Point taken."

He dips his head low, kisses you, soft and slow, fingers flexing against your shirt, dragging you closer when you move to pull back. "I like ya." His breath is hot against your mouth. "Always have."

[smilingformoney]

After Work Activities | Sinclair/Reader

Summary: You're tired of waiting for Sinclair to finish work, so you take matters into your own hands.

AN: This is a birthday present for the wonderful @snowblossomreads who said all she wanted for her bday was thighriding with pupper ❤

Warning/content: thighriding, sexy times in the office, boss/employee relationship

Read now on Ao3 or below the cut:

It was a quarter past five on a Friday, and Sinclair still hadn’t come out of his office. You sat on a chair outside his closed door, huffing and puffing as colleagues streamed past you on their way home, and you were still waiting for your boyfriend to finish work, even though home time was fifteen minutes ago.

While he was always busy, being so high up in the company, you had a smaller role and sometimes had very quiet days. This had been such a day, and you’d spent most of the past few hours passing the time by fantasising about Sinclair and all the things you wanted to do to him at the weekend.

With a sigh of impatience, you stood up and let yourself into Sinclair’s office. He was bent over some files, a frown on his face as he stared intently at the reports on his desk. You knew exactly what was going on - he was so hyperfocused on his work, he probably hadn’t even looked at the clock, let alone thought about packing up to go home and spend the weekend with his girlfriend.

You cleared your throat, and Sinclair glanced up. He smiled.

“Hi, [Y/n],” he said, clearly glad to see you, but his eyes drifted back down to his reports.

You rolled your eyes.

“Clair, you know it’s quarter past five, right? Everyone else has gone home.”

“Is it?” Sinclair replied absentmindedly. He looked up at the clock and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. “So it is! I had no idea. I’m nearly finished here, then we can go home.”

Well, that wouldn’t do. You were bored, you were horny, and you wanted him. You had to snap him out of his bubble.

You crossed the room and came up behind his desk to wrap your arms around him from behind.

“Pay attention to meeeeee,” you whined, and Sinclair chuckled. He straightened up and pushed his chair back a little, and you took the opportunity to jump onto his lap, straddling him in his office chair.

“Can I sit here while you finish work?” you asked with the cutest pout you could muster. “I’ll be really still and silent and I won’t disturb you, promise. I just wanna hold my puppy.”

Sinclair smiled coyly, and you knew you had him. He couldn’t resist you, especially when you called him puppy .

“Of course, my darling,” he agreed, and shifted you in his lap slightly so he could still see his papers.

You were trying your very best to be quiet and still as you’d promised, but you had a big problem. Sinclair had moved you to the side so you were in just the right position for his thigh to be pressing between your legs. You were wearing a skirt and no tights thanks to the warm weather, so you could feel the texture of his corduroy trousers pressing up against the very pussy that had been aching for him all day.

In a bid to distract yourself from your lewd thoughts, you asked Sinclair what he was working on, hoping that listening to him ramble on about something as boring as work would stop you from being so horny. But as you listened to him talk about P/E ratios as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, all you could focus on was the way his chest rumbled when he spoke, and the cute way his amber eyes lit up when he was talking about something he thought was very interesting.

“So really we need a P/E lower than twenty - hey, what are you doing?” Sinclair interrupted himself when he noticed the way you were squirming on his lap.

“Need you,” you mumbled.

Sinclair frowned, confused, then his eyebrows shot up when he clocked your meaning.

“[Y/n], are you… horny?”

“Desperately!” you whined. “I know your work’s important, Clair, but I’ve been thinking about you all day. See?”

You lifted your skirt to show him your wet panties, which were beginning to soak through to his trousers.

Sinclair gaped like a fish, his cheeks flushing red.

“Darling, you should have said, I - I can come in and finish these tomorrow —”

“No!” you protested. “I don’t want you coming into work tomorrow, I like our Saturday morning lie-ins. You finish your work, Clair. I’ll just suffer.”

You sighed dramatically as you collapsed against him, head on his shoulder, and Sinclair found himself torn. You were right, if he didn’t finish these reports now he’d have to come in tomorrow and neither of you liked it when he worked on a Saturday - but his girlfriend was on his lap begging for him, he couldn’t just leave her like this!

His leg began bouncing, as it often did when he was anxious or uncertain about something, and it just so happened to be the leg you were pressed up against.

You let out a surprised oh!, which prompted Sinclair to stop.

“Keep doing that, I liked it,” you giggled.

“Oh - erm - like this?”

He bounced his leg again, and you made another happy noise.

“Mmm, yes, Clair, keep doing that - you keep working, I’m quite happy here, thank you.”

Ever obedient, Sinclair kept bouncing his leg, which was causing the texture of his trousers to rub against your clit through your wet panties. You began wriggling back and forth on his leg to increase the friction, and you let out a whine as the pleasurable feeling shot right up into your core.

“Keep telling me about the P/E ratios,” you begged, your voice hoarse and dripping with lust.

“Do you find P/E ratios sexy, [Y/n]?” Sinclair asked, half joking but also wondering if you really did find it arousing.

“No, but your voice turns me on so much,” you told him between moans. “Keep - keep talking, Sinclair, please…”

“Okay, well, um… the problem with P/E is it doesn’t account for growth, so then you need to look at the PEG ratio…”

God, your mind was deranged. You didn’t know what PEG ratio was, but you did know that peg —> pegging, and suddenly you were thinking about bending Sinclair over his desk and taking him with a strap-on. He’d probably turn the colour of beetroot if you suggested it to him, but he might come around to it eventually. You’d learnt very early on when dating him that he’d only ever really had vanilla sex, but you were slowly introducing him to new ideas, some of which he liked and some he didn’t, but he was always willing to try.

Like what you were doing now - he’d probably never considered that you found his voice sexy no matter what he was talking about, or that you could get yourself off just by riding his thigh, but he certainly knew it now, because you were humping his thigh faster and faster, chasing that high you’d been fantasising about all day.

At some point, although in your ecstasy you couldn’t say when, your gyrating and moaning became too much for Sinclair to resist, and he tossed aside the report to worry about on Monday. Instead, he focused on you, and the way you were pleasuring yourself using just his thigh was unbelievably hot. He could feel his trousers getting tighter as his cock grew in response to your movements and your sounds, and although he’d sworn never to do this at work, that thought was tucked away quietly in the corner of his mind as he unbuckled his belt to pull his cock out, even if only to get some release from the tightness of his clothing.

You giggled happily when you saw his cock was out, and you adjusted yourself on your lap to slide down onto him, both of you groaning with relief as he slid past your soaked walls.

“It’s been a long week,” Sinclair sighed as you settled onto his lap, knees either side of his hips and his cock hilted inside you.

“You want me to make it better, baby?” you cooed.

He looked at you, his pupils blown with lust, breathing heavily as he let his walls fall down with you.

“Yes, please, darling.”

You smiled triumphantly and happily obliged, riding him as hard and fast as you could.

“Is this what you’ve been doing all day, thinking about this?” Sinclair asked between gasps. “I don’t think that’s - ah! - what I pay you for.”

“Maybe not, but you’ve got to admit it’s hot, right? Knowing while you’re sitting in here in your meetings, taking calls, reading reports, whatever - that I’m a few doors away, thinking about how I’m gonna make you cum tonight?”

Sinclair just whined in response, and you knew you had him. Fucking him good was one of the few ways to shut him up, and certainly the only one exclusive to you.

“We should do this more often… maybe I’ll schedule meetings with you in the day, just to fuck you senseless.”

Sinclair nodded eagerly. You took his hand and guided him towards your clit; ever quick on the uptake, Sinclair pressed his thumb against your sweet spot, causing you to let out a low groan of pleasure as he flicked his thumb back and forth just the way you liked it.

“Oh god, Sinclair, just like that!” you cried out. “Fuck, Sinclair, I’m gonna cum - gonna cum all over your cock… fuck, yes, yes - Clair!”

You cried out his name as you came, legs turning to jelly on his lap, and Sinclair quickly took over thrusting as he held you close, mumbling your name as he chased his own peak, and when he came, it was loud enough that you had to be grateful the office was empty or you’d have multiple HR complaints on your hands.

You stayed in his lap, cuddling up to him as you felt his cock softening inside you and the two of you came down from your highs, sticky and sweaty and still mostly in your office clothes, and as the oxytocin wore off, the reality of what you’d just done set in.

“Sinclair, do you remember when we got together and we agreed to keep it professional at work?” you asked as you sat up sleepily.

“Mmm,” he responded absentmindedly, his brain apparently still empty of words in his post-orgasm bliss.

“This doesn’t count if it’s past the end of the work day, right?”

Sinclair blinked his eyes open and looked up at you, a blissed-out smile on his face.

“I’ll have to report this to your boss,” he teased.

“Oh nooo, not Mr Bryant!”

Sinclair grinned, then pulled you back towards him for a kiss.

“You’ll get away with it,” he murmured when your lips parted. “I’m pretty sure your boss is in love with you.”

“Only pretty sure?”

“Well, actually, no. I’m certain your boss is head over heels in love with you.”

You both laughed, and when you both emerged from his office ten minutes later looking completely innocent as you giggled together like schoolchildren about what you’d just done, you thought it would be absolutely worth getting fired over fucking a coworker in the office so long as it meant you had Sinclair.

Besides, who’s going to fire you for fucking a coworker when the coworker you’re fucking is your boss, who is, in his own words, head over heels in love with you?

Sinclair sure wouldn’t.

[jumexju]

REQ !! : Can you write a denji drabble/fic where denji sees readers SH scars and comforts them? if this makes you uncomfortable please ignore!!

COLUMBA

Pairing !! : Denji / Reader

Fic Type !! : One-Shot, Comfort, Fluff

CW !! : Mentions of self harm scars & depression.

Summary !! : Denji comforts you after seeing your scars.

Note !! : Depression/Self Harm scars shouldn't make anyone uncomfortable, we should accept people with their scars and not despite them. This blog will always be a safe space for my fellow depressed and anxious ppl.. ❤︎

✦ MASTERLIST

“_____?” 

You turned to look at Denji who was sitting at the edge of your bed, his eyes looking at you with curiosity. “Yeah?” 

“What are those?” the blond asked, getting up from the bed and walking towards you. You were in the middle of fixing your hair, wondering what he was talking about. 

“What d’you mean?” You looked around wondering what he could’ve been talking about. You were still looking until he softly took your arm in his warm hands and ran his fingers along the prominent lines on your skin. 

“These.” His honey eyes inspected the healed wounds, wondering how it is that you’d acquired them. 

It was then that you were reminded of your past. The moments in which you felt completely swallowed by the dark shadow of emptiness and solitude. “Oh.” You hadn’t meant for him to see them yet. It was hot so you had absentmindedly took off your sweater, completely forgetting about your scars. How could you explain it to him? 

Would he think they were ugly? 

What would he think of you now if he knew your past? 

“They’re scars,” You sighed, allowing him to see them instead of pulling your arm away from him. 

A look of curiosity flared upon his face, “Where’d you get ‘em? In a fight?” He seemed to think they were cool.. If only he knew. 

“They’re self-harm scars, I..” You looked away from his eyes and down at your arm. You couldn’t bear to see the look on his face when he realized. “I did them.” 

Denji’s brows knit together, “You cut.. Yourself?” He tilted his head a little, struggling to understand. “How come?” 

“I was in a bad place, mentally. I felt like that was the only thing I could do..” You tried to explain it to him but you wondered whether he would understand. “I still feel the urge sometimes, but I don’t do it anymore though-” 

“You can come to me if you ever feel like that y’know? I don’t mind.” Denji’s amber eyes met yours, his hands holding yours while he assured you of this. You smiled a little and pulled him into a hug. Honestly, Denji felt bad that you had gone through all that, growing up the way that he did — he could empathize with you. Many times he wondered if he’d ever get out of the slums, but now that he had, he knew that there was hope. 

He only hoped that you had found the same hope now. “If you ever feel like doin’ it again jus’ come t’me, okay?”  You nodded and pulled apart from him before gazing into his eyes. 

“You really don’t think they’re.. Ugly?” 

A look of confusion washed across his face, “Ugly? Hell nah..! I actually think they’re kinda cool,” He smiled when he heard your chuckle in response to his words. 

“Cool? How?” 

“Well, they’re kinda like battle scars if y’think about it,” he smiled, his pointy shark teeth shining at you. He wasn’t always this optimistic but you could tell he wanted to make you feel better about your scars. 

“You don’t think they’re a little.. Off putting?” 

He shook his head, “They’re part of you n’ I care about all of ya, I ain’t gonna hate them jus’ cuz you were goin’ through a hard time!’ His warm words reassured you. Truly, Denji was being genuine. You could feel it through his words and the things he said. 

You could feel it through this moment. 

Denji hoped that his words were enough. That you could feel what he was saying and receive it well. He could never hate you for things that you couldn’t control. Maybe he was a little stupid at times, but he always knew the right things to say to you. 

He could always comfort you when you needed it.

[onepiece-polls]

OPLA fan cast polls - Top 10 winners!

By far most of the submitted fancasts were accepted by the fans, having had a minimum of 50% yay votes. But which fancasts had the most fans behind them? Here is the top 10!

10. Karen Fukuhara as Tashigi with 82.4% of the votes.

Her experience with martial arts and sword fighting might have convinced the fans who weren't familiar with her previous roles yet!

9. Rhey Ripley as Charlotte Smoothie with 82.5% of the votes.

Her wrestler build probably convinced a lot of people she could pull this off. And maybe the lesbians went wild about her.

8. Peter Capaldi as Dr Hiriluk with 84% of the votes.

Once a doctor... (also, he just kinda looks like him)

7. Alexander Siddig as Nefertari Cobra with 84.5% of the votes.

This Sudanese actor convinced the fans that he could play another desert kingdom ruler!

6. Amber Midthunder as Laki with 85% of the votes.

With only 1 vote really against her (we will find you and hunt you down 😛), the fans think this native American actress is perfect to play Laki!

5. Jamie Lee Curtis as Kureha with 87% of the votes.

With by far the most submissions, I had expected her to come out on top, but 5th place isn't bad at all either! Besides, she has practically been cast already, and the fans seem to agree! If someone else gets cast after all, there'd better be a real good reason for that!

4. Hafþór Júlíus Björnsson as Brogy with 88.1% of the votes.

This tall strongman from Iceland seemed the perfect fit for the friendly giant!

3. Kevin Chamberlin as Tom with 89.1% of the votes.

Tom's a fishman, Kevin is human. And yet, look at their faces: the same. The fans could do nothing but agree with this fan cast (though they would also love him as Wapol).

2. Michael Jai White as Ohm with 89.8% of the votes.

Corporate needs you to find the differences between these two pictures.

The fans: "They're the same picture."

No one voted against this fan cast, so in that aspect you could say he should be the winner! However, a few more people needed to be convinced, compared to the number one...

And the winner...

1. Javicia Leslie as Miss Doublefinger with 92.9% of the votes!

Her looks, her acting experience (as Batwoman for example), and her experience with different (combat) sports have convinced almost all of the fans that she is a perfect fit! We are looking forward to see Javicia as Miss Doublefinger in the next season (?) of the One Piece Live Action!

Thank you all for submitting your fancasts and for voting on these polls! ❤

[selfshipping-shapeshifter]

Does he count? :3

Okay so I've been seeing this thing on YouTube called a "hear me out" cake. So I wanted to try it with all of us.

Reblog with your weirdest hear me outs. We'll see how crazy this gets. (I have more btw)

[microwavedmetal]

POV: you're scrolling the House MD tag on an average day

averagehmdfangirl Follow 2h ago

I can't believe I didn't notice x song was so hilson coded until now! I wish someone with editing skills would make a mix with it

#house md

3 notes ↪ 💬 🔁 🤍

mousebitten Follow 58m ago

wretched white dance Wednesday 💃💃 rb or im sending a pipe bomb to your postal adress

#house md #wilson pussy indulgence

142 notes ↪ 💬 🔁 🤍

hannibble48 Follow 41m ago

Omggg chase! just kissed! A literal 9 yo!!! i cant believe this show sometimes wtf is wrong with him

#house md #hatecrimes md

2 notes ↪ 💬 🔁 🤍

hilson_weddingofficiant Follow 38m ago

Just watched Wilson's Heart. No one speak to me rn oh im gonna hurl-

#house md

17 notes ↪ 💬 🔁 🤍

prettyboy-aussie-fucker Follow 11m ago

pretty boyyy😍 i cant believe he went unrailed for so long

#house md

28 notes ↪ 💬 🔁 🤍

housecel Follow 11m ago

I hate Amber, just can't stand her at all. Please tell me s4 final was the last we've seen of her!

#house md

0 note ↪ 💬 🔁 🤍

mousebitten Follow 10m ago

im so homophobic for them actually

#house md

6 notes ↪ 💬 🔁 🤍

prettyboy-aussie-fucker Follow 9m ago

thats what I wanna do to chase btw

#house md

13 notes ↪ 💬 🔁 🤍

housewouse Follow 7m ago

Baby-boy baby....

#house md #sleeby boi #greg house

1 note ↪ 💬 🔁 🤍

prettyboy-aussie-fucker Follow 2m ago

awogaawooga 🥵😍

#house md #spank me mommy

4 notes ↪ 💬 🔁 ❤

[that-damn-fouth-chaosemerald]

I’ve been getting into life is strange and I was always curious. What if Mark Jefferson had a daughter and they moved because his wife just left him a note and ran off. His anger comes out and destroys the apartment. He manipulates his kid when this happens, wanting to maintain the little control he has. They move to Arcadia Bay and his kid adjusts well considering. Then he takes Nathan under his wing to help get his hobby going. Then he finds out that Nathan has been taking photos of his daughter when she’s not looking…….serial killer side of him comes out and makes it very clear to Nathan his daughter is off limits from their little hobby.

—❢ー

×A/N×

omg I really love the last sentence of this

I mean- I love all of this, but-

I know that it would be better if I would write an oneshot of this, but the last time when I did the same thing with a promised oneshot, the work was... pretty bad-

I hope you don't mind it! ^^"

Btw I'm happy about you're planning to join to the LiS community, or at least you're curious/interested about it! Unfortunately in my social group there aren't really people who knows the fandom, so I'm always happy about new fans! ^^

And sorry bc I didn't answer this inbox, I just wanted to get done with the Welcome Home headcanons :")

Anyway, in these hcs I will be a bit negative about Mark, but I still love him -//w//-

(I'm actually planning to write more x readers about him-)

×❢ About my work ❢×

fluff and definitely not fluff, dad moments, Mark is not the greatest father, there's also my thoughts in this, pls forgive him, this is not x reader, (bad) father-daughter realtionship, no pronouns used, but the reader is female, spelling mistakes, mention of kidnapping, mention of the Dark Room

Fandom: Life is Strange (1)

Charcter(s): Mark Jefferson, Mark's daughter|You| (Y/N) | The Reader, Nathan Prescott (mentioned), Warren Graham (mentioned), Max Caulfield (mentioned), Rachel Amber (mentioned)

Ship(s): Warren Graham x Reader (ex.), Nathan Prescott x Reader (ex.), Max Caulfield x Reader (ex.)

Type: Headcanons

—❢ー

𝐈𝐟 (𝐘/𝐍) 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫… (𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐜𝐬)

—❢—

𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈: Hayloft by Mother Mother

(A.n: 'Cause this is the next on my playlist and I love it so much lol)

“My daddy's got a gun

You better run”

—❢ー

Oki, let's start with some sweet ones:

• If he's not tired, then prepare for breakfast in bed

• "Did you sleep good, hon?"

• morning kisses 🥺❤

• while you cry on him, he would gently caress you

• "Shh, it's okay, sweetheart."

Now, some serious stuff:

• He wouldn't be the greatest father tho, I think

• still, I think he would be protective about his daughter

• 'cause of his hobby and about boys in general lol

• Seriously I think he would feel safer if you would chose girls instead

• but it's your choice ofc

• He will definitely talk about his job and of photography ofc

• If his daughter not interested, then he won't push it

• ofc, he will be a bit bitter

• but he understands it

• Although, he will mention or talk about it just a bit sometimes

• But if you are interested in photography

• be prepared that photography will be you two's first or at least second topic

• he's a real teacher, so you won't have problem to learn from him

• Actually I think he would be happy about that there's something that you both can talk about

• (at least the suspense will be less from you, and it helps him to keep you away from his crazy hobby)

• Don't mention Mom.

• You will see him less more, when you are old enough to be left alone

• He comes home late, and he does this more often

• "Dad?" you asked unsurely when he picked up the phone. You were worried, so you choose to give him call. Is teaching lasts this long? "Where are you?"

"Oh... Daddy's working right now, sweetheart. I promise, I will be home soon, okay?"

And he kept saying this after hours and hours.

• Get used to that you will be alone for a long time

• He will ask you teasingly about if you like someone

• but the real reason is that he wants to know who he has to deal with

• his reactions depends on the person

• If the person is Nathan (who is his... well, let's say partner of those insane things), he will be definitely more protective and will keep an eye on both of you for a long time

• deadly and serious threats ahead, if he still won't leave you alone

• he will be potective because he knows Nathan very well and the crimes that himself he commited, and other side bc he's a father and he wants to keep his beautiful daughter safe

• But if the person would be for example Max, he would be more relaxed

• (He would even think trough her kidnapping. There's a chance that he won't hurt her. Even if it's hard for him to conntrol his sick addiction)

• He still tests her if she's good enough for you, but he will be more easier on her

• OR let's say the person is Warren-

• "The geek?"

"Dad!"

• He doesn't know that much about him

• and bc of this he will definitely test him

• I mean he doesn't mind that you're with smart boys

• but you know, he has to make sure

• Now, I think we're almost there at the end of these hcs-

• You sat in the can uncomfortably. You tried to make yourself comfortable, but it didn't help.

"So, was the test okay?" you heard you father next beside you.

You nodded, even if you knew that he doesn't see you 'cause he's focusing on the road.

"Dad?" You spoke unsurely, don't know how to say out loud your thoughts.

"Yes, sweetie?" He glanced at you with a kind smile on his face, but it dissapeared when he saw how stressed you were. "What's wrong, honey?"

You tried to swallow the nervousness, but it was worthless and didn't help at all.

"So, you know those Rachel Amber missing posters? They're almost everywhere."

Mark could feel how his heart skipped a beat. Now he started to feel nervous as well.

"Yes, dear?" Focus on the road. Focus on the road. Focus on the road. Focus on the road.

"Did you know her?"

He let out a small sigh. He didn't want that his daughter notice that he's nervous. He tried to act calmly.

"No, sweetheart." he spoke as he hid away the frustration in his voice.

"Okay." you said quietly. You sounded convinced.

He carefully glanced at you again.

"Are you scared?"

There was a couple of seconds until you answered.

"Maybe... I don't wanna imagine what terrible things those people did to her. But my mind keep distracting me, even if I don't want to think about it."

You could feel the gentle touch of his warm hands.

"Don't worry, hon. I'll keep you safe."

And with that you were convinced that your dad is there and you're more than safe with him.

• Why would he be a bad father?

I think his psychotic hobby would be more important to him than his own daughter. He would be definitely overprotective about you, but also he wouldn't be there for you. Like there's no movie night, cause again, he has things to do in the Dark Room.

Yes, he would care about his daughter, he would also be a good listener, but you rarely meet him. He wouldn't be there for you when you need him.

I don't think he would hurt his daughter physically, but don't test him. He's enough stressed about his victims.

And he would pay too much attention about keeping you safe.

From his hobby, from Nathan, from everything.

[darcydarlingdabbles]

One Last Round

♠ Hazbin Hotel ♠ RadioHusk ♠ Explicit ♠ 2.8

Husk always says that's the last time, every time the fucking Radio Demon comes to find him long after the bar closes. //I've never written a hate fuck...until now XD //

 ♠┈┈♦┈┈❤┈┈♦┈┈♠ 

Husker gathered up glasses from the now empty bar in the Hazbin Hotel lobby. His nails clinked against the cups in the echoing silence after everyone had gone to bed for the night, and he was just glad there wasn’t more  clean up to do. 

For a bunch of damned souls and the Princess of Hell, the little get together had been surprisingly calm. 

No brawls, no property damage, barely any debauchery—though he could have done with a bit more drinking.

“Should be fuckin’ happy they didn’t trash this place.” Husk muttered, wiping down the sticky remnants of mixed drinks and cocktails from the polished wooden surface. “Or the radio fucker’d  have me up all night scrubbin’.” 

He longed for the comfort of his bed and its nest of pillows, his mind already on sleep…so he didn’t notice the shadows gathering across the bar. 

The soft clink of ice in a glass made his ear twitch. Husk’s hackles rose—praying it wasn’t exactly who he thought it was. 

Alastor perched primly on the last bar stool like he’d been there all damn evening. With the dimmed light glinting off those shark’s teeth of his. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Husk yelped, stumbling back into the shelf and sending glasses rattling like bowling pins. “Don’t do that to an old man, you creepy bastard!”

Alastor just chuckled softly behind that never-slipping smile. 

The cat demon’s hair was still standing on end, but he quickly brushed down his arms. Hiding the evidence. As if Alastor needed anymore cause to dig right under his skin. 

Damn smug Radio Demon. 

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” Husk growled. “Party’s over. Go haunt someone else’s nightmares.” 

“Oh, my dear Husker,” his voice purred with amusement, propping his elbow up on the bar and his clawed fingers under his chin. “Is that a confession—you do dream of me?” 

Those red eyes glinted with mischief even in the dimmed light. Husk’s fur bristled and his slashing tail betrayed his agitation. 

“Don’t fuckin’ flatter yourself.” He grunted, turning back to drying the glasses, before remembering he hadn’t washed them yet. “Ain’t in the mood for your games, Alastor.” 

The Radio Demon cocked both eyebrows above his smirk. 

“Now, now.” He leaned forward on his stool, his voice taking a sing-song lilt.“You are a bartender, are you not? Fix me a drink, my good fellow.” 

Husk’s ears flatted to his head. Gritting his teeth against the urge to tell Alastor exactly where he could shove his drink. 

“What’ll it be?” He growled out instead. 

The other man’s grin widened impossibly further, leaning over the bar as if he could close the distance that Husk was keeping between them. 

“Oh, I think you know exactly what I like, Husker.” Alastor’s voice dropped to a low, intimate rumble that shivered down the cat demon’s spine like a prickle of electricity. 

His tail stilled before he could stop it, and he silently cursed himself and his boss. 

“Ain’t happening,” Husk said gruffly, refusing to meet Alastor’s knowing gaze as he reached for rye whiskey and a clean glass.

He poured a generous measure, neat, just the way Alastor liked it. His eyes followed the glass sliding across the bar, picked up with an elegant twist of his wrist, and bringing it to his lips. Inadvertently locking with Alastor’s predatory gaze. 

Husk’s ears flattened to his head. 

“What’s the matter, old friend? Not fond of your own taste in drinks?” He raised an eyebrow before taking a delicate sip of the rich amber liquid.

Husk swallowed as Alastor did. 

The Radio Demon let out a low, appreciative hum, his eyes never leaving the cat’s face as he set down his glass. 

“Intensely bitter.” He licked his lips, too damn deliberate to be innocent. “Just the way I like it.” 

Husk shook his head to clear it. He hadn’t had enough to be this damn cloudy. With a huff, he turned his back on Alastor and found anything he could grab to occupy his hands. 

“Stop fuckin’ around,” he muttered to the imaginary stain in the glass he was cleaning. His wings twitched as he felt Alastor’s eyes burning a hole through his back. “Ain’t you got better people to torment?”

The air behind him crackled with static. 

Husk froze, feeling his hair stand in waves—he knew what was coming, but he was powerless to stop it. 

The Radio Demon’s presence leaned down over his shoulder. His hot breath ghosted over Husk’s flicking ears as he spoke in a deep, dangerous tone. 

“Oh, my dear Husker. I assure you, ” Alastor purred and Husk’s spine curled with shivers. “When I begin to…fuck around, as you so eloquently put it…” Husk felt his heart stutter, waiting on the demon’s next word. “You will most certainly know it.”

The feathers of his wings puffed involuntarily as Husk stumbled forward, ignoring the surge of want that rushed through his blood as he turned around. 

“I said it ain’t happenin’.” His gruff voice was weak even in his ears. 

Husk searched frantically along the bar, fumbling with bottles and glasses, anything to keep his hands busy and avoid that burning red gaze. 

But Alastor never was one to give up easy. 

“Yes, of course,” he drawled, his presence looming right over the cat’s shoulder and his warmth tantalizingly close. “Just like every  time it wasn’t happening, hmm?” He chuckled softly. 

Husk felt his tail sway with interest—and hit into the other demon’s legs. 

“Just like every time it didn’t happen. Right, darling?”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that.” Husk snapped back, fighting off the memory of every time Alastor pulled out the honeyed words and sweet names. 

His resolve was crumbling, like it happened, every time. 

Husk opened his mouth to bite out some nasty insults, but the words died in his throat as he felt something terribly, wonderfully familiar. Alastor’s long, slender fingers threading through his fur. 

The demon’s touch was gentle but deliberate, claws drawn perfectly down Husk’s back with practiced ease. 

“What was that, my dear Husker?” Alastor grinned at his ear. 

Husk bit into his lip, desperately trying to stiffle the purr building in his chest, but his back was arching into Alastor’s hands. 

“Fuckin’ bastard,” Husk growled without an ounce of venom. “Y’know exactly what you’re doin’.”

“Of course I do,” Alastor replied, his grin clear in his voice. “I know you better than anyone, old friend.”

Alastor’s fingers continued their ministrations, finding all the spots that made Husk’s resolve crumble. The cat demon’s wings twitched, feathers rustling as pleasure as a soft, rumbling purr escaped his throat. 

This dangerous little habit he’d gotten into. But the high of giving into Alastor was as addictive as booze—a bet he thrilled in losing. 

He should push the bastard off and tell him to fuck off. 

“Dammit,” Husk gritted out. 

Alastor’s ears stood straight up at the sound of the demon’s resolve breaking. His fingers drew up along the cat’s back, pushing the suspenders off his shoulders and letting them fall loose without a scrap of resistance. 

Letting Alastor know he’d won. 

The Radio Demon leaned down, his hand stroking down Husk’s chest and belly as he leaned to his ear, cooing heatedly. “There’s a good kitty.” 

“Fuck—” Husk gasped out as Alastor cut him off with a bite to his sensitive ear. The cat’s body responded in an instant, a wave of arching arousal that nearly burned the rest of the fight out of him.“—you.” 

Alastor simply chuckled, his breath hot against Husk’s neck. 

His long-fingered hand curled around the tent straining at the other demon’s pants, dragging a strangled groan from the old cat. 

“How about one last round for the evening?” Alastor hummed, gripping the nape of Husk’s neck as he palmed his arousal. “You know I will make it worth your while.” 

Husk growled, but nothing in him wanted to resist the wicked treatment Alastor gave. 

“Stop tryna be slick,” he growled as his hips bucked forward. “And get on with it.” 

“Certainly!” Alastor’s grin was impossibly wider as he snapped his fingers. 

Husk grunted as he was shoved forward by the shadow tentacles that had started to pool around his ankles. Suddenly, his bare ass was on the bar top, his pants gone, and his legs spread like a damn invitation. 

The curses died on his tongue as Alastor leaned over him with a predatory grace, dragging his tongue in a hot, wet line down the pink skin of his cock. 

“Slick, did you say?”

“Don’t fuckin’ tease—” Husk’s words dissovled into a choked moan as Alastor took his cock into his mouth. 

The cat’s claws gripped the edge of the bar, leaving grooves in the wood as the other demon worked over his length. He never felt the edge of those teeth—but he certainly felt the slide of that silver tongue. 

“Cocky bastard.” Husk huffed, wriggling against the tendrils that kept him still. Alastor’s laugh vibrated through him, making the cat shudder. 

A slick tentacle materialized between them, sliding up between Husk’s thighs until it found his furled hole. The old man squirmed against the slithering, gasping as he felt the tip press inside and start to stretch him as Alastor continued his ministrations. 

Husk slipped his nails into the demon’s hair, knowing full well he was taking his life into his hands when he pulled at the deer ears. Alastor snarled against him, but never drew his mouth back. 

Even as his claws sank into the shelf behind the bar. 

The tentacle writhed inside Husk—until it hit that spot that put every hair on end as pleasure rocketed through him. His wings flared wide, knocking Alastor’s forgotten whiskey glass across the room. 

A shadow caught it. 

“Careful darling,” Alastor chuckled, taking the glass the tendril brought to his hand. “We wouldn’t want to make a bigger mess for you to clean up, would we?” 

The Radio Demon smirked, licking his lips as he took a casual sip of his whiskey. 

“You’re a real smug son of a—” 

Alastor cut his retort off by dropping his mouth back onto Husk’s cock. Until it and the tentacle were leaving him a gasping, trembling mess on the bar top. Desperate for more than the agonizingly slow stretch. 

“You plannin’ on taking all damn night?” Husk growled, his tail thrashing wildly. 

Alastor’s eyes gleamed with wicked amusement as he raised the whiskey glass to his lips. “My, my. Impatient, aren’t we?” He took another leisurely sip, savoring Husk’s growing agitation. “Good things come to those who wait, dear Husker.”

“For fuck’s sake, Al,” Husk muttered, his wings twitching with each movement of the tentacle.

With a flick of the Radio Demon’s wrist, the neon green chain materialized around Husk’s throat, making his yellow eyes go wide. 

Alastor wrapped the links around his fingers, and then yanked Husk forward. 

Their lips crashed together. 

The taste of whiskey flooded Husk’s senses, familiar and intoxicating, making him lean in desperately for more. 

 ♠┈┈♦┈┈❤┈┈♦┈┈♠ 

As their lips parted, Husk panted heavily, his breath mingling with Alastor’s. The Radio Demon’s eyes sparked deviously, and the tentacle within Husk writhed in response.

“Ya gettin’ on off on bein’ a fuckin’ tease?,” Husk accused, his voice hoarse.

“I like it when you’re…feisty” Alastor smirked, his fingers tracing the edges of the chain around Husk’s neck. “And I’d be happy to let you go without, if you’d rather not play my game.” He said, with an air of faux sweetness.

Husk let out a sound of pure irritation, the tentacle still squirming inside him as others held his legs and wings in place. 

He hated the way Alastor could turn him on and then toy with him like this. 

Husk knew he was powerless against Alastor, and his wicked charms. A habit he couldn’t kick. 

The cat let out a frustrated groan, his body tensing as the tentacle brushed his sweet spot once again. He knew Alastor wouldn’t let him come, not yet at least, even as he grabbed desperately for the man’s lapels. 

“I can wait you out, Husker.” Alastor sang to him. 

“Fuck you.” Husk gritted back. 

“You wish.” Alastor intoned as he took another long, luxuriating sip of whiskey. 

Husk hissed, trying to hold back the moans that threatened to escape. He didn’t want to give Alastor the satisfaction—didn’t want to give in to his game.

But every nerve ending was on fire, and the tentacle inside him was edging into him. As Alastor just sat back, and smiled, and smiled…

And Husk couldn’t take it anymore. 

He grabbed the glowing chain with both hands, and pulled the other demon flush against him. “Fuck me already.” He demanded in a desperate whisper. 

“What was that, old friend?” Alastor taunted, inches from Husk’s nose. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Husk was about to rip his own fur out. He struggled against the shadows holding him, trying to tug the immovable Alastor forward. “Fine! I want ya to fuck me ‘til I can’t see straight. Fuck—please!” 

Alastor’s smile stretched across his face. “With pleasure.” 

The chain vanished, and the Radio Demon’s hand wrapped around Husk’s throat. 

His yellow eyes went wide as his back was pinned against the bar, but he only struggled when he felt the teasing tentacle withdraw—only to let out a low hum as he felt Alastor’s cock slide inside him at last. 

“Fuck…” Husk grabbed at the demon’s wrist, trying to steady himself as the other finally began to move. 

It was slow, deliberate, dragging the bliss from him with every thrust. 

But Husk wanted more. 

“Fuck you and the things you do to me.” He tried to snarl through his husky voice and the hand just holding on to his neck. 

“Always a pleasure,” Alastor chimed, his voice dripping with saccharine charm to Husk’s roiling frustration. “To hear such delightful vulgarity.” 

 Husk could feel his orgasm building, but he knew Alastor wouldn’t let him come yet. Not until he was good and ready.

“Faster,” Husk demanded, his voice strained. 

And he hated the fucking laugh that answered him. 

“Relax Husker,” Alastor purred, “We’re not done yet.”

With a snap of his fingers, Husk found himself face down behind the bar.  Alastor’s cock was back inside him before he could protest the loss. Fucking him hard and fast. 

Husk mewled. And he’d be mortified—if he could give a fuck beyond the feeling of Alastor’s cock hit his sweet spot again and again.

The Radio Demon’s claws and arms were elongate and caging him in, his wings and his legs still bound in shadows, and…ragged, panting breaths were at his ear.

Husk was surrounded. Consumed by Alastor. The sick fuck that owned every inch of him. 

The cat demon cursed the last thought he had before he tumbled over the edge. He let out a low growl, his body shaking as he squeezed around Alastor’s cock. 

Husk collapsed onto the bar, his body spent. 

 There were fingers running through his fur, soothing him as he caught his breath.

Husk lay there, panting heavily, still trembling from the bliss that had just ripped through him. He could feel Alastor’s own release, hot and wet inside him. 

The other’s weight was still on top of him, the radio demon’s chest heaving against his back as he struggled to catch his breath.

Alastor’s fingers were running through Husk’s fur, gently tracing patterns along his spine. It was almost soothing, and Husk found himself relaxing into the touch.

“Don’t get sweet on me now.” 

Husk let out a low growl, too damn tired to flatten his ears to his head—even as his tail curled around the man’s waist from behind. He could feel Alastor’s breath hot against his neck, the Radio Demon’s lips grazing his skin as he spoke.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, old friend.” Alastor chuckled. 

Husk let out a huff of laughter. “Get the fuck off me,” he muttered, but there was no real heat behind the words.

Alastor chuckled, his fingers stilling for a moment before resuming their gentle stroking. “Always so charming, aren’t you?”

Husk rolled his eyes, but he didn’t protest as Alastor continued to touch him. He could feel the Radio Demon’s length was still inside him, growing hard again—damn demonic powers. 

And he knew that Alastor wasn’t done with him yet.

 For now, he was content to lie there and let Alastor pet him like a cat. It was almost...nice.

And when Alastor was ready for round two, Husk would be ready to fight him every step of the way. 

[marsprincess889]

NAKSHATRAS AS GODDESSES

1/27

🐎ASHWINI🐎

DISCLAIMER: This is based solely on my research and the patterns that I saw. I can't promise that I'm gonna be sure in all the coorelations, but I'm going to attribute each nakshatra a goddess that I think fits it the closest. If you're dissapointed, to make up for it, I'm going to list some other deities in the end that I think also fit the nakshatra. Don't come for me if you think I'm wrong, be respectful in the comments if you think so and have fun 🤍

While researching, at first it was obvious that no deity was as perfect for Ashwini as Ashwini Kumaras themselves. I still tried to search for a Goddess that would be most similar to this nakshatra's energies and I kid you not, I've found the exact goddess I was looking for. Definitely was not expecting this.

Saule

Pronounced "sow-lay"

Pantheon: Lithuanian

Name meaning: The sun

Main associations: The Sun, fertility, healing, helping women and children, red apple, gold.

Symbols: The Sun, apples, colors gold and red.

The Baltic people believed the Sun to be a disc, dancing and rolling around. Saule is the literal representation of the sun, who, not unlike the Greek god Helios, rides a chariot pulled by two horses. The horses are mostly described as white and sometimes golden, and they're called, believe it or not, the Asviniai. It seems that the word has an Indo-European root.

The deities assigned to Ashwini are Ashwini Kumaras_twin horsemen, depicted as young, healthy and handsome men who can heal people.

Like their power, Saule is associated with healing, regeneration and also fertility. She rides in her copper-wheeled carriage with her trusted horses, flying through the sky every day, bringing light and warmth to Earth. In regards to her appearance, she's frequently depicted with long golden hair, as well as being associated with gold and amber in general. She's described as being dressed in golden silk. Being the goddess of health and vitality, she had horses that would never tire nor sweat.

At night Saule would bathe her horses and go to the underworld. She was married to the moon god Menesis. Their first child was Earth, then followed other children: the Stars. It's said that her husband was very carefree, sometimes sneaking out of their castle in his moon carriage, thus leaving the world to darkness. Despite having a husband, ultimately, Saule is a sovereign and independent goddess.

As the setting sun, Saule is known as the falling red apple, a ring or a crown. She's strongly associated with the color red, and also apples and apple trees. Other plants associated with her are daisies, sunflowers, roses and linden.

Saule is honored every year at summer solstice.

I want to talk a little about why I coorelated her to Ashwini but first, I'll talk about the goddess extremely similar to her- Norse goddess Sol/ Sunna. She's also associated with the sun, healing, regeneration and has a chariot pulled by two horses, one of which is called Allsvinn (very fast), the other is called Arvak (early rising). Also, one of her many names literally means "Gold".

I think the association of these goddesses with Ashwini kumaras is clear, but I chose the Baltic goddess saule as to me the Baltic culture is more similar to Ashwini's energies than the Norse (You'll definitely see Norse goddesses in this series tho). Baltic people also have gods which are basically their equivalent of Ashwini Kumaras, twin horsemen gods called Ašvieniai. It's crazy to me that two cultures that you wouldn't think have anything in common basically share a deity.

Other deities that can be associated with Ashwini other than Saule:

Sunna- Norse goddess of the Sun, healing and fertility.

Ašvieniai- Baltic twin horsemen gods who have a gift of healing

Rhiannon- Celtic goddess known as "The Horse Queen", goddess of movement, leadership, the night, the moon and death.

Epona- Celtic goddess most strongly linked to horses (and you can tell by her name)

That's it for Ashwini🤍❤ I love my horse- people😅🤍 I genuinely do, there's no one like you guys, you are very healing and refreshing to be around. Keep going 🐎🐎

Don't forget to comment if u liked this or you can interact in any way .

[draculaurennn]

Saruin's Clarity Eyes as Non-Defaults

—AKA: the first and only sims 4 cc I'll ever make—

A while back, I asked @saruin if I could make their Clarity Eyes into non-defaults to have genetic options, and they graciously said yes! I've used these eye masks obsessively on my sims and townies both, so I figured "why not let them have them generationally?" If you haven't already, please go check out saruin's cc! If you're an occulty baby like me, their work is incredible and sooo gorey-cute!

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✦ (should be) Base-game compatible

✦ does NOT override defaults

✦ in all of saruin's original swatches for the eyes, plus 4 random ones I made (including an amber-ier amber and a brighter red that's vampire enabled)

✦ enabled for everyone but infants

✦ enabled for random to minimize glitches

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