#it doesnt do it exactly like this it just reminded me of it

[4rinw]

eiypo and how to go through life on easy mode

what is eiypo?

eiypo or "everyone is you pushed out," is one of neville goddards teachings. it basically suggests that your external reality, including how people behave towards you, is shaped by your internal assumptions and beliefs about them.

now this does not imply that you are controlling others or that they lack autonomy and are soulless beings or whatever. rather, it means that your assumptions about someone determine how they appear in your 3d and how they will show up for you. your assumptions which are formed your by dominant and repetitive thoughts, act as the foundation for your reality.

for example, if you are constantly thinking, "my sp will never love me," or "i am not lovable or desirable," then these beliefs will solidify and will reflect in your 3d. from thinking about these things constantly youre slowly building up assumptions and internal beliefs about your sp and over time, your sp will mirror these assumptions by appearing indifferent or unresponsive to you.

to give one more example, if you assume that im kind and sweet, then thats how i will show up for you in your reality. however, if your friend assumes that im mean and rude, then im gonna show up in her reality as a mean old bitch. now this doesnt mean that my personality is constantly changing; its simply that i am reflecting the assumptions that each of you hold about me.

everyone is based on your assumptions about them > assumptions are your dominant and repetitive thoughts

so how do i apply this?

1. become aware and recognize your current assumptions. ask yourself questions like, "what do i assume about myself?", "what do i assume about life?", " what do i assume about my sp? ",etc. for example if you assume that you are undeserving or not good enough then your 3d will reflect exactly that. you might notice certain patterns like missed opportunities or self sabotaging behaviours that will align with this belief.

2. flip these assumptions about yourself. identify all of your negative assumptions and beliefs and replace them with postive and empowering ones.

3. maintain a strict mental diet and stick to your assumptions. if any limiting thoughts or negative ones arise, dont acknowledge them or resist them, just let them pass and remind yourself that its you that holds the power (you must also always remember that your intrusive thoughts do not manifest, your dominant thoughts do)

4. stop wavering and persist persist persist!!!

end thought. by recognizing and shifting your assumptions about certain things, you can transform how people and circumstances show up in your life. so trust in your power, stick to your assumptions and stay focused. your dominant thoughts shape your reality so think abundantly, act confident and let the universe deliver. and always remember that nothing is ever too big to manifest! youve got this!

xoxo

[ven-of-oath]

I think my favourite narrative thing when stories have death or loss is when the missing character isn't ever really addressed and/or the circumstances of their death so instead of a character there's just a siloutte outlined by the others characters coping or not

Just having an obvious hole where a person should be

[volivolition]

dude the TOP song you posted (truce) fucking kills me and the way you described the animatic is??? so good???? I'd bawl actually /pos

I need to know if there's any other TOP songs you relate to the furies/any DE character really, or any slower songs even if they aren't by TOP

OH AGREED ABSOLUTELY!! TRUCE MY BELOVED... and THANK YOU!! we are imagining animatics and crying together! /pos :'] <3

ooh!! well, i havent listened to a lot of TOP in a while, so i don't have many recommendations there unfortunately :'] but for other slow, soft songs, let's see... i'll put them under a cut with all my explanations, but ☀️ "See The Day" by The Altogether (Volition song!), 🍃 "Rounds" by The Oh Hellos (Shivers song!), 🦋 "Would You Be So Kind" by dodie (general skills song, Suggestion primarily!) are the best contenders!

Pretty sure you've seen it already, but from a different ask, i recommend "Almost (Sweet Music)" by Hozier! (and "Like Real People Do" if you want to cry and yearn with me, though my DE ideas for it are very loose hkjhg) these are slow ones i like hkjhg <3

"Goodbye" by The Altogether is a Harry and Dora song :0

"Soldier, Poet, King" by The Oh Hellos is one i specifically relate to Volition (my beloved protector/motivator/crownhead blorbo! [picks him up and wiggles him!!!]), but i would make one of those animation memes for it with every skill slotted into a "soldier" "poet" or "king" position.

☀️ "See the Day" is both another The Altogether song and another Volition song! a real "the worst is over. we made it through. we're going to survive this. it might not get easier yet, but we'll come out the other side and we'll be alive" song. it makes me cry hkjgh

🍃 "Rounds" by The Oh Hellos is a soft Shivers song, though the lyrics don't start until halfway in. ough my god listening to it makes my heart ache (/pos) <3 La Revacholiere singing to Harry in the wind. "Will you start when I end? Yeah, I'm long in the wind..."

"Northern Star" by Dom Fera, a song Harry would sing for karaoke and dedicate to Kim, and then they'd waltz a little clumsily on the dim, starlit sidewalk on their way home for the evening... <3

🦋 "Would You Be So Kind?" by dodie BUT SPECIFICALLY THIS VERSION, because i love everyone's crowded but earnest vibes. this one is led by Suggestion ("oooh you wanna fall in love with us so bad right? right???") and makes me grin, you GOTTA imagine all of the skills squished together in the front of Harry's brain all trying different tactics to get Kim to fall in love with them, (rhetoric: "I HAVE A QUESTION..." ency: "let's write a story! be in my book!") at 2:35, after all the skills singing together loudly, it's just Harry himself singing to Kim, with all the skills slowly backing him up. the ending is all of them fucking ECSTATIC celebrating when harry finally kisses kim hkjhg jesus this'd be so cute hold on i have to go plan this out i have so many thoughts hkjdh

"Seven" by Sleeping at Last would be a sweet Reaction Speed song (ironic that im adding react speed to a list of soft, slow songs though hkjgh) "I'm ready for whatever comes next!" <3 Reaction Speed is a fast, restless little fella who can't sit still for long, always loves moving, acting, doing. he's like the personification of a verb hkjhg <3 i would also accept an interpretation for echem <3

"Cosmos" by Jawbreaker Reunion is a song that The Furies recently suggested to me as a jean song and it's so right for that, very soft and i like it very much :'] (you should also ask The Furies if you want to, it's much more musically inclined than me, i feel hkjhg <3)

awuahg thank you for asking and for reading!! i appreciate it!! <33

oh and here's links to all of the songs in the tags: Come Together Now, Two, Four, Five, Six, Eight, Nine, RPG Animation Meme (<- homestuck lmao)

[terrorbirb]

:((((((((( boss didn't buy me lunch like they normally do on people's last day. Commence absolute minimal effort to finish out this job.

[itsalwaysdark]

bedtime nowww probably ummm today qas not what i wanted it 2 be but its fine. i dont feel negative just a very very very numb day which is almost worse. but only almost 🙏

[nowendil]

hm. might have just felt the first flutters incoming of gender plate tectonics

[alienpupy]

.

[arinmoss]

women and femmes is like. what the fuck r u talking about lol.

like ppl will be talking about shit that effects me but postulate it as something that effects only women and femmes, two things i am not lolol

[snekdood]

anyways if nick fartez and any of his skeevy fans are spying on me online I needja to know this: no one will ever love you or like you or fuck you and its all your fault bc your a nazi. the only way you'll ever get anything is if you rape someone and you and I both know that doesnt mean shit except how desperate you are to stick your dick in someone and how much you're willing to violate people who actively dislike you and would never be around you if it was their choice. it didn't hafta be this way but you decided being a ugly skeevy nazi was more important than anything, which is sad. honestly jump off a cliff, save yourself the time.

[beeseverywhen]

Not having a car in your 20s really is a humbling experience. That post where the guys like 'I have to ask my mum to go to walmart' I feel that.

I'm not American so I do have the benefit of town living and a walkable community. I feel very lucky to have been able to live right in the heart of my hometown again (lived on the main street above a shop for a while as a kid but mostly lived in residential areas. As an adult I'm lucky enough to live on a road coming off the main street (can no longer live in places with stairs so above a shop is no longer an option) HOWEVER.

my town is gentrified as fuck and all the shops are stupid. And even if I put up with the cost and buy the things I can in local shops, I can only carry a very limited weight of shopping, but am very stupid and overestimate my ability/ realise but still get carried away and buy too much as I have no impulse control every time. So I'm left having to beg lifts/tag along with pretty much anyone that'll have me lol.

Pour one out for me, trying to run a household and not even having parents I can ask for lifts. I'm begging lifts off aunties, grandparents, friends, fucking COUSINS. Most humbling experience ever and without a car you can't even repay them with easy errands. Watch me repay the favour with CHILDCARE, with TECH SUPPORT, with financial advice. Those are all the worst favors. I don't mind doing them but BY GOD would I prefer to be able to occasionally just pick them up something from the shop. Drop them at the train station. Pick up a parcel.

[angelicmemo]

Why! Cant! I! Be! In! Love!

[reidmania]

love letters | s.reid

summary; when you miss spencer while he is away on a case, you re-read all the love letters he has written you over the course of your relationship

warnings; established relationships, mentions case but doesnt go into detail, fem reader, reader is not a coffee drinker, fluff fluff fluff

an; fic six!! this is just pure fluff tbh. also can we appreciate the colouring on this fic. ITS SO PERFECT PRETTU PERFECT.

You’re lying on the bed that feels too big without him, your fingers idly tracing the edge of a soft, worn piece of paper. The clock beside you reads 2:12 a.m., and you can’t shake the emptiness settling over you as you stare at the ceiling, too awake to sleep and too tired to do anything else. Spencer’s been away for three days now, and every hour without him feels like it stretches on and on, the silence heavier than you’d ever thought silence could be.

Your eyes drift back to the drawer beside your bed, a drawer he never opens, but where you keep something he would recognize instantly. Tucked away are letters, dozens of them, each one a quiet reminder of him. They’re notes, really—not grand declarations, not epic poems. Just little reminders he’s left you over time, slipped into coat pockets or left folded on your pillow. You hadn’t intended to save them all, but now, having them close is the only thing keeping you grounded while he’s away.

You open the drawer and pull out the little bundle tied with a piece of twine. Your heart swells as you untie it, gently unfolding the first note. It’s one of your favorites, written on a torn scrap of notebook paper, one corner crinkled from a drop of coffee. Spencer had left it on your kitchen counter before heading out to work, months ago.

“If I could leave you notes all over the world, I would. But for now, just look outside—it’s raining, and I know that makes you feel calm. I’ll be home before the storm’s over. – S”

You smile, remembering that day. You’d found the note just before noticing the rain falling in gentle streams outside your window, and you’d waited with a blanket by the window, watching the clouds until he came back, just like he’d promised. He always knew how to turn your little quirks into anchors.

Setting that note aside, you reach for another. This one’s written on the back of a receipt from the bookshop downtown. It’s short and scrawled in his neat handwriting.

“You pick up this book as if it’s a friend you haven’t seen in years. It’s beautiful to watch. Don’t forget to mark your place in the story—I want to hear what you think. – S”

You laugh to yourself, remembering how he’d tucked it into the back of the book after you bought it. He hadn’t let you see it until you found it yourself one night, and the memory of the way he’d watched you read that note makes your heart ache just a little more.

You lie back against the pillows, shifting so you’re curled around his side of the bed. It’s silly, maybe, reading these notes over and over. But as you go through them, each one reminds you how much he loves you, how he notices things about you that you hadn’t even noticed about yourself. His love is a quiet kind, a series of small gestures and words, but somehow, it feels bigger than anything else you’ve known.

Another note catches your eye. This one’s on a tiny sticky note, a bright yellow square you’d found on your mirror one morning.

“You make coffee exactly how I like it, even when you don’t drink it. I don’t think anyone’s ever done that for me before. I’m lucky. – S”

You can still remember the warmth of his hand over yours when he found you reading it, how he hadn’t needed to say anything else.

The letters become a timeline of your relationship, a way to measure time not by dates but by memories, by little notes that remind you of the person you are when you’re with him. Each one has a tiny piece of his heart tucked into it, a small reminder that he’s with you even when he’s halfway across the country.

You read through a few more, feeling your eyes grow heavy but not wanting to close them. There’s something grounding about seeing his words, knowing that he took the time to write these little messages just for you. In a way, it makes the ache of missing him almost bearable, makes you feel connected to him in a way that’s both heartbreaking and comforting.

You’ve just set down the last one, a note he left in the middle of a crossword puzzle—“How do you always know the words I can’t think of? I love you.”—when your phone buzzes on the nightstand.

It’s him.

You answer on the first ring, not even caring if he’ll be able to hear the lingering sleepiness in your voice. “Spencer?” you say, unable to help the warmth in your tone.

“Did I wake you?” His voice is soft, low, and there’s a hint of worry in it.

“Not really. I couldn’t sleep,” you reply. There’s a beat of silence before you add, “I was reading some of your notes.”

The smile in his voice is unmistakable. “You kept those?”

“All of them.” You can practically feel his surprise through the line. “It helps. You know, with you being away.”

He hums softly, a sound you know means he’s thinking. “Do you have a favourite?”

There’s a hundred favourites, but you know the answer without hesitating. “The one on the mirror, about the coffee. I don’t think anyone’s ever noticed something like that before.”

The line goes quiet for a moment, but you know he’s smiling. “I think about those little things a lot,” he admits. “I keep thinking about how much I miss you. I know I’ll be back in a few days, but it doesn’t stop me from wishing it was sooner.”

Your heart tightens, and you can’t help but imagine him sitting in some unfamiliar hotel room, thinking of you just as much as you’re thinking of him. “I miss you, too,” you whisper, barely able to keep your voice steady.

There’s another pause, the comforting kind, where neither of you needs to say anything. It’s enough just to be together, even like this.

“Do you want to hear about the case?” he asks gently, as if he’s afraid you’ll say no. You do, because it’s part of him, and you always want to know. So he tells you, his voice a familiar comfort in the dark, weaving through the details with that measured precision he’s so good at. You listen, nodding at the right places, even though he can’t see you, letting his words settle over you like a lullaby.

When he’s finished, there’s a soft exhale on the other end of the line. “Do you have any notes for me?” he asks, the hint of a tease in his voice.

“I could think of a few,” you say with a smile, glancing down at the scattered pages on your bed. “Maybe a sticky note on your phone: ‘Call your girlfriend as soon as the plane lands.’”

You can hear his smile widen. “I think I can manage that.” His voice softens, the words almost like a whisper. “I’ll keep leaving them, you know. Notes, I mean. Just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“In case you ever need a reminder. That I love you. That I notice the little things. That I’ll be there, even if it takes a while.”

You’re quiet, just for a moment, because the words stick in your throat. He always knows how to get to the heart of things, how to make you feel so understood. “I don’t need a reminder for that,” you say. “But I’ll still read them every time I miss you.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’ve written so many,” he murmurs, the warmth in his voice unmistakable. “Get some sleep, okay? I’ll be home before you know it.”

You nod, letting your eyes close. “I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you, too,” he replies, his voice like a gentle embrace over the line. “Sleep well.”

The call ends, but you hold the phone to your chest, listening to the quiet in your room. For the first time in days, it doesn’t feel lonely. Spencer may be miles away, but his words are here, resting against your heart, waiting for you in every corner of every room.

[jackass-jones]

Cant believe im getting rbs on a post about junepei when yesterday I went on a big rant shitting all over junepei 😵‍💫😭😰

Akane who sacrifices her entire life, and her loved ones lives, and the lives of many others, all in the hopes that she can forge a timeline where she and Junpei can be together and live a peaceful life, only to have traumatized Junpei so much in the process that he doesn’t want anything to do with her in the end

[comet-forgot-you]

perhaps tara with jealous!reader ? overstim too if you’d like

smut. 18+ pls.

you seeing the way that wes is just all over her all the time. you hate it. he knows that shes your girl, she reminds him all the time, but that doesnt seem to stop him. you fucking hate him. tara knows it, and she also knows just what to do to get you riled up.

she knows that if she gets just a little too close to wes, touching his shoulder, looking at him instead of you, she knows it wont be long before youre dragging her out and fucking her brains out. she loves it, and thats exactly what she does.

you have her laid on her bed, vibrator pressed to her sensitive clit, fingers pumping inside of her. she looks so fragile underneath you, but you both know better.

her hips buck against the vibrator, to get away from it or to grind against it, you arent sure. you’ve already made her cum twice, and you dont plan on stopping until the vibrator dies.

“god tara, youre such a fucking slut.” tara whines at your words, head rolling to the side out of embarrassment. “no,” you tsk, pulling your fingers from her cunt to reposition her head to look at you. “eyes on me, yeah?”

your fingers swipe across her lips and she opens her mouth to take them in, licking them clean. you pull them out with a pop, trailing them down her bare body, pinching her nipples, before burying them back inside of her cunt.

shes cumming again the moment your fingers curl inside of her. a loud moan falling from her lips, hips bucking against you. she’s a whining mess underneath you. “god tara,” you whisper, fingers not stopping inside of her cunt.

“stop, no, t’s too much, fuck,” she whispers, hands flying to push you away.

“stop it.” tara whines, but she listens, digging her fingers into the mattress instead. “you wanted to get fucked senseless didnt you? thats why you were all up on wes, hmm?” tara doesnt respond, her eyes heavy as looks up at you, whines falling from her throat at the pleasure you give her. “answer.”

“fuck. yes, please. i just needed you so, fuck- i just needed you so fucking bad.”

“good girl,” you mumble out. tara clenches around your fingers. “thats what you want, so now you’re gonna cum until im done with you, kay?”

[thewertsearch]

JASPERSPRITE: Whats a timeline? :3 […] AC: :33 < ok imagine a long tempting strand of yarn […] AC: :33 < now imagine instead of being made of wiggly enticing stuff, its made of what lets you exist AC: :33 < and you are right at the twitching tip of it, dont you s33? […]

I like Nepeta's perspective here, that a timeline is made of 'what lets you exist'. She's saying, I think, that timelines are made out of reality - out of the firmament that distinguishes the multiverse from the Furthest Ring.

Her imagery suggests that she understands at least the basics of her world's deeper mechanics, despite not actually using this knowledge during her time on-panel. I would have liked to learn more about her perspective, but we're almost out of time. From where we're sitting, Nepeta's already dead.

AC: :33 < […] look at the sky! JASPERSPRITE: Meow yes i see the sky and can tell that indeed something is going on. JASPERSPRITE: But aside from that i dont really understand what you said being a cat and all.

Even though he’s a Sprite, the poor guy just doesn’t have the brainpower to use this information he's getting - and that's if Sprites are even told about Scratching.

The world’s being ripped to pieces, and he’s just going to watch the pretty colors until there is no more Jaspersprite. Someone please get this cat a ticket to the Yellow Yard.

AC: :33 < im a bit nervous for you, especially since you remind me so much of someone i already lost AC: :33 < but maybe youll be ok? i dont know

It’s difficult to say. The troll sprites were implied to have died when their session ended, but this session isn’t really ending; it’s being rebooted. Sprites might be doomed in a normal game, but we’re pretty far outside of normal parameters, so there may still be hope.

...right, Sburb? I'm right, aren't I?

...Sburb?

AC: :33 < did you ever have someone nice back on earth who you loved? […] AC: :33 < […] i bet lots of girl cats would have loved to be with you, if only there had b33n some around to hear your lovely meows :33 JASPERSPRITE: Youre really nice to say so nepeta what about you though? […] AC: :33 < […] yes i have liked somebody for quite some time, but alas he doesnt know it

Nepeta’s tale is one of missed opportunities. She never got to wax poetic about her love of shipping, never got to confess her feelings to to Karkat, and - let's be entirely honest with ourselves - never really got to be a character at all.

Now, if you’re an optimist, you could take this as evidence that Nepeta’s story isn’t over – that we’ll be expanding on her character in the Dream Bubbles, perhaps.

I'm... let's say I'm a realist.

I think Nepeta is simply a victim of Homestuck's enormous character roster. Ever since Hivebent started, it's become increasingly obvious that there are some 'important' trolls, and some less important ones. This isn't a bad thing - it's just how fiction works, and it would be borderline impossible to juggle rich, satisfying, 8000-page arcs for sixteen primary characters, no matter how quickly you're putting up panels.

Nepeta simply isn't a protagonist. She's a total sweetheart, but in the end, she didn't make the cut.

JASPERSPRITE: Maybe you can win his affection by rubbing your cheek against him thats what i would do. AC: :33 < ohhh no no no, im too shy even for that! […] AC: :33 < its hard to explain, maybe cats think diffurntly, but trolls tend to be pretty cautious about expressing their f33lings when it comes to the flushed quadrant JASPERSPRITE: Whats a quadrant? […] AC: :33 < a quadrant is a thing in a group of things that consists of four similar things JASPERSPRITE: Like paws? AC: :33 < EXACTLY like paws!!! :DD

But damn, if she isn’t a sweetheart.

[fartcloudfartcloud]

What about Logan meeting a reader with more dominance than him? Like what would he do, what would he want to do to them?

*giggles and wrings hands together* You've found my achilles heel mr.69

i dont know if this is what you wanted but im using this as my excuse to write FREAKY SUBMISSIVE LOGAN PORN!!!

warnings: Edging, Logan being mean and then begging on his knees a second later, i do say reader is "5 foot whatever" but if that doesnt apply just ignore it lmao, I do describe him as almost crying every now and then so if that turns u off this might be a skip

This is short (1.5k) but I love submissive men so do NOT be afraid to lmk if you want more :)

Personally, I was raised by a woman way too strong headed to ever be the stereotype of submission, and I'm sure a lot of you share the same sentiment in some way or another. I was always told to never let a man tell me what to do, and I can picture a reader being the exact same way. 

Not mean, not bullheaded or rude, but strong. Tough. Logan had expected to blow through you like he had the rest of his team (or at least how he thought he did, though he was a lot tougher in his head than in action). But when he stood up to you, all 5 foot whatever of you, it felt like you were standing eye to eye.  

You did exactly as you were taught, chin up and shoulders back as you spoke with confidence, and it easily had you slipping into positions of power in the mansion with ease. He admired you from afar for a while, watched as you seamlessly commanded a room, effortlessly organizing missions and handling insubordinate children like it was nothing.  

Logan couldn't describe where the attraction came from. Originally, he thought it was his manly man urges to take a dominant woman and make her pine for him, but you and I both know that's not why you got him going. 

If you were to ask him right now in his current scenario, he wouldn't be able to tell you which was his favorite part. Not sure if it's you under him in between his knees, looking up and fluttering your pretty eyelashes at him like has something to behold; or if it's your firm grip around his cock, effortlessly bringing him so close to the edge before you manhandle him back down to earth. 

It had only been once so far, but you had gotten him bad. Your hands all sloppy and wet working up and down his length with vigor, your filthy loudmouth a never-ending record of come on baby, let me see it, let go for me. 

All that build up, just for you to -right as he whimpers out a breathless "going to fucking cum"- halt all action and grip your flingers tightly around his base. 

It ripped a deep growl from his chest, the feeling almost painful as his finish line is so rudely ripped from him.  

He should've known, he knows you too well too have assumed he could get you all pretty on your knees without some anterior motive.  

"You want something?" You ask him innocently, that stupid pretty smile still spread across your face. He grinds his teeth as the pressure in his stomach slowly simmers down, not enough air in his lungs to formulate a response.  

You slowly start stroking him again, an agonizing pace that has his cock flushed a deep red and practically throbbing in your hand. The sound is pornographic and it's all too much for him. 

He's whining now, head thrown back and noises getting increasingly high pitched as you keep his release just barely out of his reach. If he could focus enough to use his ears, he’d hear you laughing at him. 

He so rudely tries to interrupt you, tries to bring his own hands down to just get himself there, but you wouldn't allow it. You'd make him sit on his hands if you had to, and when you grabbed each wrist and planted them next to his thighs and told him to "stay," he knew better than to disobey. 

"Gotta ask for the things you want, Wolvie." You remind him. It's just basic manners, really, frankly he should be thanking you for still touching him after being so rude.  

"Don't gotta ask for shit," He spits out through clenched teeth. 

See, that was Logans problem. He had too much fucking pride, needed someone to teach him a lesson. Guess today he needs it to be you. 

"Mm you're right, Logan," you've got a smile on your face as you speak that Logan can't read. Either way, he's scared. 

None of it matters though as your hand picks up speed and pressure, resuming your prior ministrations as your fingers suddenly massage every spot with precision. His breath is gone as his head hangs limp on his shoulders, his fingers gripping the comforter like it would save him from your attack.  

"You don't gotta do shit," You're talking but he's not listening. It's all too good, he's being hurdled towards his orgasm faster than ever, he couldn't hear your jests even if he wanted to over the pressure in his ears. He’s gonna cum, he's so fucking close, and your hands feel so fucking good so perfect and it's all so much and- 

"But neither do I," and just like that you're off him. Not like before, this time you stand up and physically take a step back from him, watching his form head to toe as he's forced to cope with his second lost orgasm. 

The groan he lets out is primal, you expect to see him start ripping the pillows and sheets with how his writhing on your bed. He’s on his back twitching, practically crying from the ache pulsing through the center of his body. It hurts, he's so desperate it physically hurts, his hips rutting into the air in search of anything. 

He has no sense anymore, no control over any of his limbs as he falls to the floor and crawls to you, the only thing he can make out in his fogged-up mind is need.  

"Please baby," He begs mindlessly, "You're so fucking mean to me," He's kissing your thighs and pulling at your hands, buttering you up and wallowing in any contact you'll give him.  

Neither of you know how it happened, know at what point in the night he broke and became a whimpering messy puppy, but God did it feel good to watch, to see him yearn for you so desperately. 

His eyes are teary eyed and hazy as he speaks, "I'll do anything princess I'm sorry," He kisses you palm and knuckles and up your wrists, "Please baby I'm sorry I'm sorry just fucking-" His hips involuntarily grind down, his thighs twitching and his hard cock bobbing between his legs. "Please touch me baby I can't fucking take it,"  

He’s a mess, his cock is leaking all over his thighs and the floor, and his lips won't leave your body, lathing kisses anywhere he can, worshipping your body as you stand still and look down at him.  

"Why can't you just behave the first time?" You ask, wrapping your fingers in his hair and gently tugging his hair back, making him look at you as he speaks.  

"Was just playin baby," He kisses the wrist of the hand in his hair, "shouldn't have teased you baby I'm sorry, please baby please," his arms are wrapped around your thighs as he nuzzles into you. It's pathetic, and if anyone else ever saw him like this he's sure he could just explode on the spot.  

"Get back on the bed." You order, taking pleasure in the way he scrambles back to his spot, his legs spread for you and his hands pressed back into their spot next to his hips. He’s disheveled, his hair falling over his face and sticking to his forehead, a thin layer of sweat covering him head to toe. Youd keep him like this forever if you could. 

You decide to take mercy on him though, the sight of him on his knees begging like a dog more than enough to satisfy your cravings. Now, all you wanted was to do was so how pretty he looked once he actually finished for you. 

You find your spot between his legs again, looking up at him all pretty just like before. God you were going to ruin him. 

"Go on. Tell me what you want," you give him one last instruction before giving in. His breath is shaky, his words coming out in a whole different tone than before. He sounds small, on the brink of tears as he whimpers out one last desperate, "please," before you spit in your hand and wrap it back around his cock.  

Instantly he's gone. He doesn't even have the energy to moan or cry, he's just paralyzed. His eyes roll back and his hand clamps over his mouth, no air left in his lungs as the most mind-numbing wave of pleasure works up from his core. He wasn't even cumming yet and it already was making him shake. 

He should've just trusted you, should've known that you'd make him feel so fucking good if he just listened. Never again, he'll never say no to you ever again. 

By the time his orgasm actually hit him, he's laid out flat on his back on the mattress, his mouth dropped open, and his eyes squeezed shut. Both his hands are wrapped in the sheets, stuck in place by his claws that slowly inch out with every rope of cum that comes from him. There's no sound until it's all out of him, your hands not stopping till he's whining and pushing you away from him. 

You watch as he recovers, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he desperately tries to get air back into his lungs, aftershocks still tumbling through him. His eyes flutter back open, not enough energy to focus on anything else though as his claws start sheathing back into his knuckles.  

He sits up as you return from the bathroom with a washcloth, gently cleaning off his stomach and anything that was coated in a thin layer of his finish. He’s sensitive, hissing and gasping as you gently clean his slowly softening length and thighs.  

Once all evidence is taken care of, you look up at him with soft eyes. He looks so amazing like this, his eyes can't focus on anything while his lips slowly pull into a big dopey grin. You let him take you in for a moment, just staying like this with him till he has the strength to speak.  

"Jesus Christ," Is all he says before he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before falling back onto the bed.  

"Are you going to make it?" You tease, cuddling up under his arm where he lay and resting your head on his bicep.  

"I don't think so," He giggles, enough oxygen in his system now, enough strength in him to wrap himself around you and kiss your head. "You were a lot closer to killing me then you think,"  

You giggle and smack his chest, "keep being mean like that and next time I actually will,"