#ill bite cecilles ass

[williamkisser]

NAOOOOOOOOOOAOAOAOAOAOAOO

I haven’t showered since last year🤪🤓😇🤯

cecille says dont be stinky

[dracoqueen22]

BlorboWrimo 2024 - Day Twelve

“Yes.” Cecil withdraws a handful of what looks like bird seed from one of his hip pouches and offers it to Snow. 

She pecks it from his palm with a gentleness belying the size of her beak. Cecil smiles, and it’s so soft and sweet that Dart’s heart gives a thud against his ribcage. So that’s what it takes to soften the Templar captain, hm? 

Cecil pets Snow’s crest one last time. “Kneel, darling.” 

Dart’s eyes go wide as Snow chirps and bends at the knees, making it easier for Cecil to climb into her saddle and look graceful while doing it. He pats her on the neck and looks expectantly down at Dart. 

“Uh.” Dart looks over his shoulder, but the camp is well and truly packed up. No reason to delay any further. Cecil really expects him to climb aboard the borse. 

“Have you never ridden a borse?” 

“No. Never planned to either,” Dart says. 

Amusement lifts the corner of Cecil’s mouth. He has no right to look so attractive when he smiles. He offers one hand to Dart. “Here. Take my hand. Put your left foot in the stirrup and use it to lift and swing your right leg over.” 

Dart understands the concept. He’s seen a few Ori ride borses, though they are mainly used by the Templar, who have the space to house and train them. He’s “ridden” seadragons before as well; some of the kelple have managed to tame a few for residential use. 

A Drylander borse is another creature altogether. 

But never let it be said that Dart ignores a challenge or lets cowardice lead the way, so he claps his left hand into Cecil’s, shoves his foot into the stirrup, and heaves. 

Dart is neither graceful nor steady, but he gets his ass in the saddle, and his legs to either side of the borse. That’s what matters. 

“I’m on a borse,” he says, dumbly. 

“Congratulations,” Cecil says. He grabs the reins and clicks his tongue, prompting Snow to rise to her full height. 

The ground suddenly seems very far. Dart feels a little ill. He scoots closer to Cecil’s back. If he falls, or even thinks about falling, he’s taking Cecil with him. Though he’s not sure what to do with his hands. 

Snow gives a full body shake that Cecil moves with, and nearly throws Dart. Panicked, he throws his arms around Cecil’s waist, wrapping his fingers into a tight knot, his cheek pressed to Cecil’s back. 

“I was going to tell you to hold on, but you helped yourself,” Cecil says, still faintly amused. 

He clicks his tongue again, and Snow starts to move, first a walk, then a gentle trot that eats up the ground and makes Dart’s belly leap into his throat. Dart would talk, but he’s afraid of biting his tongue, and more afraid he’ll lose his meager breakfast. The swaying, jolting motion is not ideal. 

“I hate this,” he moans. 

Dart closes his eyes, but that doesn’t make it better. Burying his face in Cecil’s hair does, though. It smells good. Dart focuses on his breathing, on Cecil’s warmth, and counts very slowly to keep the roll in his belly down to a medium. 

It takes a half hour before his body finally gets used to the borse’s rhythm. Snow’s been moving at a steady clip, the coast long behind them, and the road surrounded by dense foliage. It’s shaded by tall bristled trees and briar underbrush, but wide enough for two wagons to pass with room to spare. 

It’s a Templar road. Makes for a smoother ride, but in the Ori’s opinion, coats the landscape in a blight of crushed rock and mudwash. 

Dart doesn’t know how the horses stand it. Their taloned feet aren’t shod like a horses. How do the rough stones not cut their feet? 

The worst part of the ride, however, is that it’s boring. There’s only so much nature and cool air and self-pondering Dart can manage before the restlessness sets in. 

“How do you stand it?” Dart asks, raising his voice to be heard above the rushing wind and the steady crackle of Snow’s talons on the rocks. 

Vesper’s a warm, thick line against his chest. He swears she’s gently vibrating, like a continuous buzz of excitement, very much like the happy humming at the back of his mind. Sirene’s been radiating satisfied delight since the moment Dart got on the borse. 

Cecil says over his shoulder, “You’ll have to be more specific.” 

“The boredom,” Dart says. His fingers ache, so he un-knots them and lets his hands rest on the planes of Cecil’s armor. So much metal. Geez, is he even comfortable wearing all this?

“I do not get bored,” Cecil says. “I enjoy the quiet.” 

Dart grumbles, “Of course you do,” and sits back, his hand sliding to Cecil’s hips instead. His nicely trim waist, actually. 

A bit bulky now, because of the armor, but Dart has a distinct sense memory of his hands fitting on Cecil’s hips, his thumbs stroking over Cecil’s hipbones. 

Dart doesn’t remember most of the details from when Sirene and Vesper had their reunion. He remembers kissing, the taste of Cecil on his lips, and how good Cecil smelled. He remembers orgasming, like a lot, and the hot-sweaty-slide of skin against skin. Fingers on his ass, his own tangled in long hair, tasting Cecil’s pulse with his lips. 

Flashes, really. 

It’s disappointing. 

Dart maps the breadth of Cecil’s back with his hands. Broader shoulders than Dart’s, nice and muscular, too. But he’s not too bulky either. Dart would love to get a grip on Cecil’s hair and pull, preferably when he’s buried to the hilt in Cecil’s ass. 

“Just so you know, these horny thoughts are all yours,” Sirene says. 

“Oh, you remember I exist again,” Dart mutters. “You haven’t had much to say since you’ve been basking in your wife.” 

Serene chuckles, but she radiates such delight it’s hard to stay angry. “We have been communing, this is true. But you and Cecil seem to be doing fine.” 

“Fine is a strong word.” 

Dart huffs and goes back to his explorations. Vesper’s hilt is beautiful, clearly meant to be wielded with two-hands. Her blade is wide, though it tapers to a whisker-thin edge, and the metal is a matte black. Very different from Sirene, who’s nimble and quick. 

Cecil’s braided his hair again, the black ribbon interwoven with his blond strands. It’s long, too. Longer than any Drylander Dart’s ever met. He lightly drags his fingertips along the twist, and grins. So soft. Smells good, too. 

Dart hums and rubs his cheek on the braid. He misses the sea, but some of the textures on Dryland are so nice. Everything Undersea tends to feel slimy or soggy or rough. But Dart loves the feel of silks and satins and smoothed leather. 

And thighs!

Dart leans to the side, hands back on Cecil’s hips. Cecil’s thighs strain against the fabric of his trousers, deliciously thick. Dart would love to get hs mouth on them, make little bite marks up and down the inside. Cecil seems just like the type to melt under a little loving. Something to heat up that icy facade. 

“Still you!” Sirene sings as Dart’s appreciation makes his own trousers a little tight. 

“Shut up,” he grumbles. He’s a young mer with a healthy libido, a complicated attraction, and absolutely nothing else to do. 

He can’t help being curious. He remembers very little, and he likes to know the details. Like, is Cecil’s tail sensitive? Does he like to have his nipples nibbled? Does he like a firm hand or a light touch? And Dart’s never been with a gemling before. What does his cock look like? What does it taste like?

Dart squirms. 

He likes sucking cock. He likes the feeling of it on his tongue. The silky, slippery taste of pre, a bit briny like the sea. He likes it almost as much as he likes eating cunt. It’s a close call. Dart likes them both. 

He puts his hands back on Cecil’s waist and tries to imagine gripping it. Or better yet, wrapping his legs around it. There are vague flashes of the latter, but not enough for him to really appreciate it happening. 

If they’re stuck in this bond, Dart might as well get used to it, right? 

“You are very well matched,” Sirene purrs, and her voice licks like lightning up his spine. “Vesper and I have borrowed our wielders before, but it has never felt so, hmm, incandescent.” 

Oh, shit. 

Dart’s forehead thunks against Vesper, which he swears she’s throbbing now, just a low steady pulse. “Why did you have to tell me that?” 

“Does it disturb you?” 

“Pretty much the opposite,” Dart groans. His hands flex against Cecil’s side. “Though, you know, ask next time?” 

Sirene hums, and her presence wraps around him like a sea breeze. “Will there be a next time? We would greatly appreciate it, if there were.” 

Unfortunately, that’s not entirely Dart’s decision. Cecil needs to be on board as well, and given Cecil’s icy exterior, Dart doubts he would be. 

Cecil shifts, twisting around in the saddle and dislodging Dart’s hands. “What are you doing?” he asks, sounding half-flustered and half-angry. Like he can’t decide which one he’s supposed to be or wants to be.

Dart pretends to think about it, running his tongue over his teeth before he says, “Thinking about sucking your cock, actually.”

Red floods Cecil’s face, starting from the bridge of his nose and spreading over his cheeks. “You are not serious.” 

“I am though.” Dart scoots back into place, settling his hands on Cecil’s waist so he can slide them around to Cecil’s front and toy with a buckle. “I’m bored to tears, Sirene’s riling me up with sexy stories, and I don’t remember much of last night.” 

Cecil faces the front, suddenly tense all over. “You’re bored,” he repeats as he tugs on the reins and Snow drops from a healthy trot to a menial stroll. 

“Yes.” 

“And the only entertainment you can find is to… to perform oral sex. On me.” 

Dart grins, even though Cecil can’t see it. Ah, a weakness. Something to exploit. He leans in against Cecil’s back, pushing up with his thighs to say in Cecil’s ear, “Or let you fuck me. I’m not picky.” 

He is too close not to feel the full body shiver that ripples through Cecil’s body. Dart can just see Cecil’s hands tighten on the reins – something he doesn’t need two hands to grip, by the way. 

Dart can practically hear Cecil working it out in his head before he says, “Will you be quiet afterward?” As if Cecil’s the one doing Dart some great service and not the other way around. 

Well, however he rationalizes it in his head works for Dart. Some boats sail on different oceans, or however the saying goes. 

“I can certainly try,” Dart says. “Also, I take offense to that. I’ve been very quiet up until now.” 

“It’s been two hours.” 

“That’s it?” Dart yelps. He groans and knocks his forehead against Vesper’s sheath. “I’m never going to survive this.” He sighs and squirms again. “Can we at least stop for a break? My ass is hurting, and I didn’t get to do anything fun to deserve it.” 

Cecil mutters a curse under his breath, but a few minutes later, he tugs Snow off the road and into a small glen barely visible from the gravel. Dart practically leaps from the saddle, his thighs aching, while Cecil is more sedate about it. 

Snow is decidedly not. The minute Cecil’s free, she squawks and heads straight for a bush with some kind of berry growing on it, heedless of Cecil’s grip on the reins. 

“I thought you said she behaves?” Dart teases, mid-stretch of touching his toes, down and up again. 

Cecil slants him a look before looping the reins around the saddlehorn. “She does. I trust her not to wander off.” He looks back to the road, then at Dart, then back to the road, and the pink returns to his face. 

Oh. 

Dart grins and sidles up to Cecil, arms tucked behind his back. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” He touches his tongue to his bottom lip. “Is Vesper asking nicely?” 

Cecil crosses his arms and stares further into the forest. “I am capable of self-control.” 

“Hm.” Dart gives Cecil a slow circle and drags his fingers across Cecil’s nape, bared where he’d pulled his braid over his shoulder. Goosebumps raise in his wake. “Sounds more like masochism to me.” 

Why is Cecil so damn fun to tease? Because if Dart’s going to be a prisoner, he’s not going to make it easy. Sirene won’t let him run, but she didn’t say he couldn’t play with Cecil to pass the time. 

“Be nice, Dart,” Sirene huffs, but there’s no hiding the interest in her voice, or the yearning that’s echoing along their tether. It’s been over twelve hours since she last “communed” with Vesper, and by the Saling Current, she’s got a hankering for more. 

“How is offering him a free dick-suck not being nice?” Dart demands right as Cecil huffs and says, “You’re an Ori, though a poor excuse for one.” 

“Hey!” Dart rears back, offended. “Is that any way to treat the guy offering to go down on you?” He calls out, louder, “Vesper, you better get your wielder under control if you ever wanna feel your wife again.” 

Cecil glares at him, but it withers away in the next moment as his gaze drops and his face gets that pinched look of an inward tongue-lashing. Dart is all too familiar with it. After a moment, he uncrosses his arms and heaves a great sigh. 

“My apologies,” he grits out. “If you truly wish to… do that, Vesper would appreciate it.” 

“Well, now I don’t think I want to. You don’t sound all that interested,” Dart retorts. Nothing’s worse than fucking someone who’s laying back and thinking of salsa recipes. “Come on. Let’s just get back on that borse and trot our way back to a jail cell for poor Dart here.” 

Sirene practically rolls her eyes at him. “That’s laying it on thick, Dart.” 

“I am not afraid to lay a healthy guilt-trip down. Mama taught me well.” 

Dart finishes one last good stretch and turns toward Snow. Maybe he can figure out how to get up by himself this time?  

He’s intercepted by Cecil, face fully pink, and his jaw set in a grim line. “What is it that you want?” he grits out. 

Dart gives that serious thought. The obvious, of course, is to go home, but since he can’t do that, wrapping the Templar around his finger will have to do. 

“Ask for it,” he says, and walks the fingers of one hand up Cecil’s breastplate before brushing them over Cecil’s throat. “Use my name.” He grins as all kinds of emotion flashes in Cecil’s eye. Not so iron-firm now, is he? 

Cecil’s jaw works. 

“Dart?” Sirene’s tone is oddly firm. “Stop.” 

Dart’s smile drops. It’s his turn to focus all of his confusion inward. “Excuse me? Why in the Abyss should I do that?” 

“Because I asked you to.” 

Of all the– Dart huffs air through his nose and his gills. He drops his hand and spins away from Cecil. “Let’s just get going,” he growls, and stalks toward the berry bush Snow has almost completely decimated. “Come on, birdbrain. Save some berries for the rest of us.” 

He manages to grab at least a handful without Snow pecking his eyes out, but that’s probably because her attention immediately shifts to Cecil who approaches on her other side, carefully unlooping the reins from the saddle-guard. He’s staring at Dart around Snow’s feather mane, while Dart very carefully avoids Cecil’s eyes and ignores the arousal in his belly. 

It’ll go away eventually. 

Cecil climbs astride Snow, settles into place, and wordlessly offers Dart a hand. No more thoughts of trying it on his own this time. He just takes the assistance, crams the rest of the berries into his mouth, and prepares himself for more of the long, boring ride. 

Yay. 

“Are you going to tell me what that was about?” Dart demands as Cecil guides them back onto the road, and eases Snow into a semi-gentle pace. 

Sirene is unexpectedly quiet before she says, “It’s not my story to tell.” 

-----

Day Twelve Word Count: 2765 Running Word Count: 26255+2765= 29,020

[moirai-au]

Ollie’s grand entrance

how he and mars met!

ollie tries to take on a whole ass drug ring and bites more than he can chew

so he gets beat up pretty bad

he manages to escape with his trusty grappling hook and swings around a bit

before crashing through the glass ceiling of the greenhouse while Mars is tending to his plants, in the early morning

mars is in a panic because a complete stranger (also the only human being he’s interacted with in months) just flopped in front of him and is probably dying

ollie: *beaten black and blue and coughing up blood* ollie: oh hey how’s it goin’ mars: *distressed nerd noises* mars: oh my god who the fuck are you but also are you dying in my house im calling an ambulance- ollie: uh yeah no please dont im kinda doing illegal stuff also i cant afford it mars: mars: wh-

since ollie wont go to the hospital mars calls his family’s doctor who took care of him since he was a little kid: Cecil!

mars not knowing anything about lgbtqa+ stuff cuz shut-in

so when the doc arrives to help he asks ollie to take off his hoodie

and ollie isnt super stoked about that, but its either that or cecil knocks him out

so he does it, the doc doesnt comment on his binder cuz he knows that stuff

but mars does because he has no idea

mars: wait, you’re a girl?? jollie: *dysphoria intensifies* cecil: dear god mars show some decorum- okay i need to tell you about some stuff

(later)

mars: oh hey you feel better man? ollie: *visible relief* yeah :D

ollie just… aggressively becomes mars’ friend despite the magic man’s reluctance

smart grumpy nerd/dumb happy jock friendship

ollie: im your friend now mars: wh- ollie: *drags him outside* LETS GO CLIMB A BUILDING TOGETHER-

mars but he’s never been in a grocery store in his entire life because he just orders super expensive pre-made meals to his house or cooks his own veggies

and he’s just amazed at the first one jackie takes him to

like “wHAT, IT’S A ROW OF FREEZERS! Remind me to install one of these at my place!”

and ollie, who just came here for bread and milk, looks at him fondly but also is very concerned

also he doesnt question mars’ mask, he just thinks it looks cool

ollie gets the habit of coming to visit mars, sometimes to hang out and try to get him to go out, sometimes to crash with a major injury

they basically become the “hey ron hey billy” vine where the guy falls through the ceiling at some point

cecil: cecil: why and when did i become the local vigilante’s designated nurse mars: sorry… ollie: *laying all bloody on the couch for the fifth time this month* sup

cecil: *squints* when was the last time you took off your binder? ollie: uuuuuuh cecil: nevermind, that alone tells me enough. take it off now. ollie: no! cecil: do it, or ill pump you so full of sedatives you’ll be out for days. mars: *shudders* please just do what he says, he’s not kidding. i know that first hand. ollie: what kind of doctor even are you???!! cecil: the kind that gets shit done.

[adder24]

PTSD Update: What next?

Okay the good news. I have now been discharged from CBT therapy as I am now in recovery. It was baby steps and some sessions hit a nerve but with help we got there and now I have the tools to use, just in case. My therapist was amazing and she helped me to see where the problems lay and how to In a way, solve them. She made things easy to understand and I can't be thankful enough for the work she has done to help me find myself again.

It wasn't simple by all means. There was a few bumps in the road... One major one being the loss of Chester, that one hit me pretty hard because his music helped me through the darkest days and yes I hit low... My therapist was quite concerned when I told her that after his death I too was contemplating my own life and it's worth...an incident a few days later nearly put the nail in my coffin when I was made to feel invalued and a time waster but fortunately I had a string of friends come to my side and talked me out of it. I have never shed as many tears as I did that day, They saved my life, which my therapist was happy about but it did mean I was closely monitored from that point on. Thankfully there were no more episodes like that to cause me to go into that dark place again.

I also learnt the very hard way, about friendship. The saying “You know who are your friends are” Is really telling when it comes to these situations...you do come to realise who you’re true friends are, they are the ones who stand by you when you have lost your mind and say shit you wouldn’t really say or do shit you don’t normally do. They are the ones who let you rant, who pick you up, who are the shoulder of support even if they have heard the same things over and over. They are the ones who don’t give up on you, even if you tell them to “fuck off” They are the ones who do not judge you on your illness...they are the ones who see beyond that and see who you truly are. They are the ones who know you and it doesn’t matter how long you have known them for....10 days or 10 years...whoever is still by your side at the end of it all are the ones who truly matter. So hold onto them, never let them go, Anyone who berates you over your illness, who tell you off when you are stuck in a cycle, who judge you or make you feel as if you are a burdon...let them go. It’s hard and believe me I have shed many tears about the ones who walked out of my life over the mistakes I have made....but as much as I try, I can’t change their minds...that’s down to them not me and certainly not you.

So as much as PTSD made me weak...I have come back stronger than I was before. I know the signs to look out for now, I know what to do and I have things in place to keep me occupied if I have a moment where I am a bit down or anxious. I have people around me who know what to do if they can sense I am falling. I don’t rely on them to pick me up everytime because we have to learn sometimes to pick ourselves up....but they are there for me and I know they will be there to help and they have made sure I don’t feel afraid to reach out to them if I need them.

I no longer feel lost, for once in a very long time I am starting to know who I am again, I’m pretty bad ass, I’m creative, funny and a damn lunatic but I have a heart, I wear it on my sleeve and I am there for those who need me, all they need to do is call. I am also fierce and a fighter....I don’t know how to stay down. I can get hit a million times and I’ll still find a way to get on my feet again. Can’t keep a good woman down. I have beliefe in myself now...I believe in my work and my stories and I freaking love it when I get a comment encouraging me to continue (What writer doesn’t?) It means alot I can tell you.

So are we seeing a new me? No. No we’re not, we’re seeing the person PTSD THOUGHT it had defeated but truth is, she’s back and she’s back with avengence mother trucker!

Food for thought!

If anyone....anyone who sees this, is suffering or wants to reach out, please don’t be afraid to message me or leave me a note in my inbox...I don’t bite I promise.....despite my unsername.

@thursdayschild91​ @jimcaviezelfan​ @johnreeses​ @colormeplease-time​ @savhcaro​ @sylvaine6ball​ @suesskatz​ @earthangelcaviezel​ @that-was-fucking-spectacular​ @doucejc​ @anurbanlcgend​ @handsomemeninasuit​ @mamahub​ @imo126​ @kenobiwcn​ @mollusktwo​  @pinguiin-like​ @bigbunnimal​ @arrowsandangels​ @aragarna​ @bliphany​ @bonnie131313​ @caviezeldaily​ @comtessedebussy​ @dxfinch​ @eyesofwitt​ @fetch-me-some​ @fil60​ @follow-voice​ @frenchfrostpudding​ @heike-251​ @idinink​ @izhunny​ @jcjrfan​ @jreese2011​ @just-a-symphony​ @lionsassy​ @lostris23​ @managerie76​ @maninthesuit​ @mollusk4​ @musicfashionandscotch​ @myfriendtheurbanlegend​​ @nightwolfslair​​ @plink42​​ @prplprincez​​ @rainiejanie​​ @reeselivesforeverinmyheart​​ @tipsylex​​ @xlostlenore​​ @75mar​​ @hakimo2015​ @iheartjimcavizel​ @cecile-r​ @ellenveggirl​ @untilthe12ofnever​ @susanbrown​ @misterfinch​ @purpleshield1548​ @weirdlookingdudeinglasses​ @whatinthehellisthis​ @jc-tasneem​ @shoulditrustyouagain​ @sunrise68 @erinthevampire