#like tah dah

[edenfire]

🎲❤️ huskerdust ❤️🎲

I'm working on my hazbin & helluva buttons and stickers for @hellbentcon and of course I had to start with my babes🥺🥺💗💞🌸

pls check out @hellbentcon if you like hazbin or helluva👀🌟✨️

[lisa-russell]

👌cod...i feel so bad 4 acht and marina now...dah squit dey go thru...

we all needmtah protec-

plz.plz.plz. pleeeeeeaaaze.

[thicctails]

the danny phantom to nicktoons unite to fairly oddparents fandom interest revival pipeline is real guys

[kamipyre]

@ptternminds sent in: Sarang's hands suit themselves perfectly to the task at hand, even though they're the hands of a killer. It's almost a shame, how easily she forgets they are, when she buzzes around Suki like a butterfly, a dragonfly, as opposed to the wasp she actually is. She's holding up two pairs of earrings. Right hand: silver, long enough to graze the jaw ever so slightly if the head is tilted just right, fine and soft to run through a palm. Left hand: the other, similar, but rather than appearing like a string, small light pink hearts cascade in a shorter length, ending in a larger heart carrying most of the weight between her fingers. Her eyebrows waggle. She lifts the left hand slightly higher. "You gotta pick a pair. It's all about exploring new styles, come on." ((i was writing this and realized in spite of Sarang being a WHOLE LOT ORDER when I think about these two, Suki feels more mature? in how she handles the past, in particular? BUT ANYWAYSD FDKLHGL))

UNSURPRISINGLY, SHE'S ALWAYS HAD A LOVE-HATE RELATIONSHIP WITH FASHION. On one hand, it is a means of expressing herself– if she dressed well enough, smart enough, or maybe even outrageously enough, would they notice that before her face? She's dreamt about it before, always wondering, always milling on the possibilities, but never quite bold enough to take the risk.

( Of the things to be timid around, it just has to be fashion doesn't it? Perhaps this is something she could ask her co-workers for advice once upon a time– man or woman or enby, most are decidedly bold in their fashion choice. From leather jackets to fur linings, to frills lining the edge of magenta overcoats, they are brazen in their choices. Confident and closed to any if not all critiques. )  

Of course Suki barely knows where to even start. It's not like she can ask her co-workers ( or at least the ones she actually still likes ) anyways– it occurs to her that just like with other areas in her life, perhaps getting a mentor is key to learning. It can't be a man though, no matter how well dressed they are and unfortunately, if not all of them happen to be well, men. Again, it occurs to her that having no femme-aligning friends is coming to bite her in the ass.

But even if it was a woman, her mentor would need to carry herself in the same manner as all the others: relentless, patient, and wise. Pro-active too– Suki's learning has always been more hands-on. So it'd have be someone like–

Jing holds up the two earrings, which as far as Suki is aware, are only different by the hearts dangling on the end of the right one. She tilts her head. "What about the rest of the outfit? I thought people are supposed to pick the accessories after they have one." Something she remembers from the one too many dramas she's watched. Would Jing also have seen and learned from them?

( Nowadays, her job is busier than ever, but in a strange contradiction, Jing has been around even more...almost as if she knew most of the people whom Suki used to hang around are gone. )

But of course, Jing, who handles everything with a light touch, insists on making a choice. That, Suki can empathize with. There is only so much time for one to deliberate before the waiting becomes the choice. And Suki?

Doesn't have the luxury of time. Especially not in her job.

She points to the one on the right. "I like the hearts but–" She pouts, exasperated. "I need them to look at me as an equal. I'll look more like a kid if I wear the other one."

[john-smiths-jawline]

growing up nonwhite in america is just like *your white friends don’t do this* *your white friends have never heard of your favorite food* *your white friends think the way you celebrate this holiday is weird* *your white friends still don’t pronounce your last name right even though it’s been literal years* *your white friends

[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin]

Definitely nothing gross cause I hate stuff like that too. Im absolutely obsessed with his hands, and so I was kinda imagining an early seasons Spencer who doesn't understand why reader always stares at his hands so she shows him 🤭

If no thats okay 😅👍🏻

Oooo

I love Spencer's hands.

HAVE YOU SEEN HIS HANDS FOR THE NON BELIEVERS LIKE BROOO

CW: Lwk size difference. consent?

A/N: Mistakes? Comment. Compliments? Comment. Problems? cOmmENT!!!!

______________________________________________________________

Spencer was sat beneath you immersed in a book he bought a few days ago. You tried to follow the words but you kept getting distracted. You let put a shaky breath as your eyes followed Spencer Reid's fingers, how the flexed before flipping the page. You were so focus on his fingers you didn't hear Spencer.

NSFW BENEATH BE VERY WARNED

Spencer Reid was a damn good profiler so when he noticed your irregular breathing, dilated eyes and unresponsiveness he wondered if it was your thoughts till he noticed what you were looking at.

Rolling up his sleeved he moved closer to you.

"Angel?" he asked for the 4th time before you jerked back finally coming to.

"Huh? did you say something?" You asked as you peeled your eyes off his fingers.

"Bingle-bongle, dingle-dangle, yickety-do yickitey-dah, ping-pong, lippy-tappy, too-tah."

You blinked twice before coming to your sense, what were you doing?

His gaze on you made your cheeks feel hotter than usual.

"Why are you quoting Doctor Who?"

"My girl's not here, figured the Doctor could bring her back." You scratched the back of your neck as you looked away.

"I'm here."

"A survey conducted by the Journal of Sex Research in 2007 found that about 30% of participants reported some form of partialism."

"Partialism?"

"A type of paraphilia involving sexual interest in, or fixation with, a certain part of the body."

"I-?"

"My hands. that's your current sexual interest."

"Sorry."

"What are you sorry for?"

"I don't know for maybe sexualising your hands."

"I'm your boyfriend, I don't mind...in fact, I'm interested in how you see my hands" his words made you gulped. Spencer smiled so innocently but his actions were anything but.

One of his hands disembarked from the arm of the chair and began to trail up your neck, a trail of shivers in it's wake. You froze, your breath caught in your lungs.

"Spencer..."

"Mhmm...?"

He knew what he was doing to you. How it affected you. His index finger traced your jaw before landing on your lips.

"Open." it was a simple order. You opened your mouth before your nerve disappeared like your reasoning. His finger trailed the inside of your mouth before landing on your tongue.

"Suck." your lips like clockwork clamped down on his knuckle and like someone with their favorite candy. You sucked. Your tongue wrapping around his finger.

His eyes were locked on your face. Only the whites of your eyes were visible as you all but sucked the skin of his fingers. He was losing his control by the day and it was you he wanted to take care of.

He chuckled at your eagerness. "You like how bigger my hands are huh? dirty little thing aren't you."

The sound that came from the back of your throat was primal. You didn't say anything but no words were needed.

Spencer pulled you down to the floor, his finger still in your mouth like a leash. HIs other hand moved to your bottoms and they were gone. He removed his finger from your mouth and you felt empty.

That was before you felt his fingers in you. Throwing your head back you realised the background noise wasn't just background noise. It was you moaning the entire time. Your thighs clenched around his arm as you wriggled and writhed under him.

“Such a slut you are, hm?” his tone changed slightly causing you to rock your hips even more. Teasing your entrance with his finger you wondered if he would give you his cock. "You’re so wet.” He chuckled breathlessly, you noticed just how much he was restraining himself.

His hair falling over his eyes , slightly hiding his lust filled gaze. Before He lowered his head towards his fingers.

The next few moments were heaven. Spencer ate puss like a starving man. Your starving mam

Spencer brought you down from your high, your breasts having joined the game, you briefly wondered when you lost your shirt.

"No nerd facts?" you finally spoke your throat slightly dry.

"You want, fuck, you want a fact?" his voice was breathless and windy.

"Yes."

"You drive me crazy."

You laughed as you laid on him.

"I'm glad, but i mean an actual fact."

"Alright but stop moving your hands." You tilted your head.

"It's my turn now."

You traced the buldge in his pants. Unzipping his pants.

"People who-who..." you palmed him.

"Who what?" you asked mimicking him. Tracing the tip you watch Spencer fight to stay together.

" A-Are hand fetish-fetishist usually admire the nails-" You pressed slightly along the sides.

"Long nails? short nails?nail-polished? clear?"

"Angel..." his voice was horse.

"Alright, no questions."

"And enjoy licking or sucking one's hand or fingers and the acts made with the hand (handjobs, fingering, slapping, scratching and so on)" You moved your hair as you began to do just that.

Licking

Sucking

Nibbling

Spencer came apart minutes later all over the floor, his head falling into the chair. His chest rising slowly again. He raised his arms and brought you closer, his face disappearing slightly in your hair.

"Angel, I love you so much." he mumbled.

"I love you too Spence."

"We should get cleaned up..." he began making no motion to get up.

"We should..." slumping into him further.

"Are we getting up now?"

"Oh no, you turned me into Spaghetti legs!" you exclaimed.

__________________________________________________________

Spencer Reid smut has been served. I don't know if I like this or not but what matters is that i overcame my writers block at 2am

[brucewaynehater101]

i just got an idea 🤩 Tim Drake is a villain, but he's like Dr. Doofenshmirtz!

Batman: *caught in a Batman-sized trap*

Tim: Ah, Bruce Wayne the Batman! About time you arrived! Look at what I have created!

Tim: *shows his skateboard contraption* TAH-DAH! I call this "The Red-Board 3000!" It took me 3000 tries to finally create a successful one. It runs on Joker Gas, and goes about as fast as Mach 4!

Bruce: Hrn.

Tim: Tsk-tsk-tsk, Bruce Wayne the Batman. You must be wondering why I made this. Well, it all started when I was 5 years old. My parents left me alone in a jungle and forgot about me.

DO YOU SEE MY VISION?!?!?

I do!!!!!

Might I add:

Tim becomes a villain because someone told him he needed therapy. He didn't really like that idea until he saw the Riddler monologuing to Batman about his bullies. That, unfortunately for everyone else, inspired Tim.

Sitting down and talking to a stranger who is also required to report child abuse? Nah. His parents aren't great, but he likes the freedom and doesn't want to end up in Gotham's CPS.

So, Tim "goes to therapy" every other week, or traps ones of the Bats and vents about his life to them. It's perfect for him.

He spends about a week setting up his schemes, outfits, lighting, and therapy plan. Then, he lures one of the Bats into the designated place. His favorite is Batman.

He loves watching their faces constantly switch between annoyed and concerned. Tim, who has a secret villain identity, is obviously a child. He's spouting true (but untraceable) facts about his life that are concerning as fuck. Bruce is going out of his mind trying to capture Tim to get him some real help.

The one aspect Tim always ensures he has is the ability to get away. He'll give the Bats a way to foil his plots and disappear while they do so.

So, Tim enjoys coming up with very real but ridiculous ways to destroy/take over the world and threatening the Bats with it. Could Tim actually succeed as a villain? Yes. However, that would make him a higher priority to capture. That's also not the reason he's does any of it either.

Now... does he get along with Riddler? Debatable. On one hand, they both have traps and stuff. They could bond and help each other (or test each other). On the other hand, Riddler might see Tim as competition or that Tim is making fun of him.

Catwoman likes Tim, though.

[mothwingwritings]

BTD/TPOF Valentine's Gifts To You~<3

Look I know Valentine’s was days ago but it’s one of my favorite holidays and I have no chill, so you all have to deal with the residual now. (*-`ω´- )人

THAT BEING SAID- here's a little 'what kinds of gifts/experiences the Boyfriend To Death/The Price Of Flesh crew would lavish you with on Valentine's day' imagine, let’s gooo!!! I hope you all enjoy!

18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!

Warnings: Abuse, implied past kidnapping, reader getting hurt, torture, noncon, dubcon, (please forgive the pun but) horrible people taking a stab at an ounce of ‘affection’ and mostly just making things more dreadful for you.

I hope you all enjoy! ˘³˘

✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ( ̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:̲̅]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅ ) ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

Ren🦊- Will actually get you a sweet gift, something that he put time and thought into. Chocolates, a stuffed animal, a cute outfit, a figure of your favorite game/anime character that you have been eying, maybe even all of the above if he has the budget (honestly probably all of the above even if he doesn’t have the budget). He’ll present it really cutely too, like rose petal’s littering the ground leading you to the room where all the gifts are neatly displayed, giving a little ‘tah-dah!’ as soon as you discover them. He gets really excited watching you open them, explaining his reasoning behind each and every item he purchased/made you.

“All the chocolates in store looked boring, so I decided to make you some! I added your favorite ingredients, so I hope you like them!”

“This stuffed fox was too cute to leave behind and, well… I was hoping maybe it would sort of remind you of me? Anyway, I couldn’t leave the store without him! He belongs snuggled in your arms, just like I do!”

Just be mindful that in return he’s probably gonna put on a ‘cute romance anime’ of his choosing to end the night and that ‘cute romance anime’ is 100% just going to be hentai. From there, one thing will lead to another and he’ll make sure he gets a nice Valentine’s gift too. :) Oh, and if you don't like any of the gifts... It's best just to keep it to yourself. He'd hate to have to ruin the nice time you are having on this great holiday because you are being ungrateful.

➽───────────────❥

Lawrence🪴- Flowers is a no brainer, but he doesn’t want to give you something that’s too cliché or that you’ll just throw in a vase to watch slowly die. After mulling it over he decides to give you something with a little more meaning-a plant from his collection that he planted and grew himself. He would most likely pick something like an aglaonema (its valentine colored, right?) or some kind of succulent because they are easier to take care of. He’s a little worried that you are gonna find such a gift weird or see it as a hassle, that no matter how little maintenance the plant takes you’ll just let it end up dying regardless. But he supposes if anything this will be a good test of your bond-will you cherish and nurture the gift he gives you, or will you discard it and let it wither? Don’t make the wrong choice here, it would break his heart. (And your life honestly depends on it.)

➽───────────────❥

Strade🔪- You were dreading what kind of ‘present’ this man would concoct for you on Valentine’s day, but to your complete surprise he actually prepares something shockingly thoughtful for you. He’s set up a nice little homemade dinner for the two of you in the living room, complete with mood lighting (you hoped he didn’t have any surprise uses for the candles that burned around you), nice dishes and silverware (a rare luxury, considering how he usually makes you eat your food) and some wild flowers he had picked from out in the yard (did they have thorns? Were you gonna find that out the hard way?). The dinner itself is one of your favorite meals, and while it was maybe a tad bit overcooked and plated sloppily, it still tasted incredibly good. The catch? Well, I mean you have to have some kind of entertainment while you eat, right? Good thing Strade has a plethora of ‘home videos’ on deck to enjoy with you while you have your lovely little feast. Maybe watching them will spark something between you two, it’s certainly going to put him in the mood to reenact them with you. It’s Valentine’s Day afterall, why not have a little fun? <3

➽───────────────❥

Celia👩‍💼- It really just depends on her mood or what is happening the day of. You may end up getting  something nice, a little reward from her for being such a good and obedient pet.  She’ll gift you something thoughtful and sweet, like a nice piece of jewelry, expensive chocolate, or finely aged wine that costs more than you make in an entire month. She’ll be relaxed and pleased as she watches you enjoy her gift, taking satisfaction in how easy it was for her to delight you. On the other hand, if she is in a horrible mood or (god forbid) was forced to spend the holiday with her husband, the only thing you are going to be receiving is the brunt of her frustrations. If he bought her chocolates she’d force you to eat them all in one go, prying your mouth open to shove them in herself if you refuse to do it on your own, cramming them in until you nearly choke. If he bought her flowers she’d flog you with the bouquet, rose thorns tearing into your flesh until you were left in a pile of petals and your own blood, body littered with lacerations and angry red welts. Whatever half assed gift she was given or horrible date she was put through, has now become your problem as she uses you as an outlet for her resentment. And for the final celebratory Valentine’s act, she’d use you however she saw fit to get off (because she sure as hell isn’t getting any pleasure anywhere else tonight). Mine as well make the most of her time with her little sweetheart before she’s forced to go back and face whatever is waiting for her back home. You understand, right honey?

➽───────────────❥

Derek🦂- Honestly he forgets it’s Valentine’s Day, but it really doesn’t matter. He wasn’t going to go out of his way to get you anything or do anything for you anyway. If anything, he’d buy something for himself that he can either use on you or force you into for his own personal amusement. Some kind of constricting, demeaning latex gimp suit, or maybe a new whip he can assault you with. The more it hurts or humiliates you the better, because nothing brings him more pleasure than watching you suffer and squirm. Regardless of if he remembers the holiday or not, he’ll probably just spend the day mocking, assaulting, and/or torturing you anyway-once he recognizes the date, he may even go a little harder than usual as a treat to himself.  What are you gonna do, cry because your ‘Valentine’ is being mean to you? Hearing you beg, curse, moan, and scream in agony over all that he’s putting you through only makes it better, sweetheart. Like music to his ears! Even though it’s far from your intention, you are the best Valentine he’s ever had and though he won’t admit it, he’s thankful to you for that. Then again, maybe the holiday is just making him feel particularly sappy… Has he ever told you how pretty your tear stained face looks when you are choking on his dick, struggling to breathe as he forces himself down your throat? He’ll have to take a picture to show you next time.

➽───────────────❥

Mason🌲- He’s not very well versed with the ‘typical’ things people want or do for Valentine’s Day, and quite honestly, he finds it all rather obnoxious. To him it’s just some big show, a way for corporations to profit off people’s affections and sex drives to get them to spend money on cheap tokens of affection. Flower bouquets? They’ll just die. Stuffed animals? There’s no point to them. Jewelry? Useless baubles. No, the TRUE way to show your love for someone is through an EXPERIENCE. And what better experience is there then the thrill of nature? Maybe that makes him seem like a one trick pony- he did first meet you by purchasing you for his hunt, after all. But things were different now, you have proven yourself to him, proven that you have the know-how to survive out in the wilds. Now that you mastered it, you can truly enjoy it. He can tell you still didn’t really trust him (and honestly he isn’t sure you ever truly will) but he has faith you’ll eventually come around to this new way of life with him. He loves taking you out hunting and camping, the excitement he feels stalking his prey, the sense of purpose and connection he experiences living off of nature’s bounty, he’s found its much more enjoyable with you by his side. He hopes you feel it too- the buzz coursing through the air as he finally corners his quarry, how rousing it is when you land the final blow and get to drag your prize back home. He makes you watch as he skins and cleans them, finding importance in the act. You need to witness him doing his craft, learn from him, and really understand that you’re relying on him for your survival. Afterall it’s just the two of you out here now, it’s better to get used to it sooner rather than later. Come on, it’s time you took part in helping him prepare his slaughter. After you are done he’ll use the meat to cook you something nice, or prepare you some jerky so you’ll have something to snack on. This lifestyle is his ongoing gift to you, darlin’. Happy Valentine’s Day. ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ

[miasmaghoul]

Limelight

Rating: E

Pairing: Aether/Dew

Summary: Aether and Dew see the ghovie (gone sexual). Contains handjobs, semi-public play, teasing, hand kink and quintessence fuckery.

(Also contains mentions of Rite Here Rite Now concert footage ONLY - no spoilers!)

"I feel ridiculous," Dew grumbles, tapping the toe of his boot against the dingy theater carpet. The lobby is bustling, filled with people of all ages in Ghost shirts, face paint and costumes. Dew tugs at his jacket, restless.

"Why?" Aether strokes the back of his hand with his thumb. "I thought you were excited to see the finished product?"

Dew mumbles something as they move up in line, eyeballing the concessions menu. Nearby, a pair of young girls giggle as they take a selfie with their creepy little plush Copias in front of the Rite Here Rite Now poster.

"Looks like you aren't the only one, either," Aether chuckles, elbowing Dew gently. The little ghoul rolls his eyes.

"Just...feels weird," Dew shrugs, grabbing a packet of Sour Patch Kids from the display stand. "Seeing it all...y'know." He gestures vaguely with their joined hands and Aether gives him a nod.

"You're gonna be on the big screen, baby boy," he says with a grin, looping an arm around his shoulders, and Dew frowns in a very stern sort of way.

"Get me these," he grumbles, tossing his candy onto the counter as they step up. "And a blue Icee. Large." Aether chuffs as he pulls out his wallet, rattling off things to the scrawny kid behind the till. "And nachos. With extra jalapeños."

Aether gives him a look.

"How much do you think the infirmary pays me, Dew?"

"Ugh, fine," he says with another exaggerated eye roll. "A medium Icee."

Aether pinches the tendon on the inside of his wrist and Dew kicks him in the shin. Aether shakes his head with a sigh, but he can't hide his smitten grin.

They gather up the pile of snacks - large Icee included - and make their way to the theater. It's a decent space, with reclining seats and extra chilly air conditioning. It's only about half full with five minutes til showtime, but Dew doesn't mind a smaller crowd. Their seats are great, in the back with empites on each side and in front, and Dew crosses his fingers that it stays that way. He sets down his things, shrugs off his jacket and lays it over it lap when he sits.

"How are you not cold?" Aether shivers, sitting on his hands. "It's frigid in here."

"You know I run hot," Dew shrugs, reclining his seat and crossing his ankles as he settles in. He grabs his box of nachos and scoops up a glob of impossibly yellow cheese and pickled jalapeño. "Plus, this way I can use it as a blanket if I want to."

Dew pops the chip into his mouth and demonstrates while he munches, crossing his legs and pulling the jacket up to cover his chest. He makes a tah-dah gesture and Aether smiles, leaning over to swipe a little smear of cheese from his bottom lip.

"Whatever works, I guess," he says, licking his thumb clean. He grimaces. "That tastes like spicy, salty plastic."

"I know, isn't it great?"

Dew uncovers himself and settles in again, stretching his legs and covering his lap. He takes a sip of his Icee and grabs the box again, tucking in while the theater lights start to dim. That same wiggly feeling he'd had in the lobby hits again and Dew sighs, fidgeting with the loose edge of a patch on his jacket.

"This really feels weird," he breathes, and Aether reaches over to hold his hand.

"Relax, Dew," he murmurs, lacing their fingers together. "You're gonna be just fine."

The last thing Dew sees before the lights go down is the glint of Aether's golden tooth, and he struggles to swallow the lump in his throat as the screen flickers to life.

The first time he appears, Aether audibly gasps, and Dew can't explain the way it males him feel. He shoves another chip in his mouth and decides not to think about it.

Twenty minutes and three bouts of brainfreeze later, though, his snacks are gone and Dew finds himself with no further distractions. Seeing himself - well, all of them really, but especially himself - up on that screen is doing things to his insides he can't quite explain. There's a certain level of queasiness in play, though who's to say how much of that is from watching himself play in stunning definition and how much is impending heartburn.

He squirms in his seat and tries very hard not to focus on the mistakes he catches. Tiny things he's sure no one else can see or hear - obviously, judging by the people dancing in their seats - but he sure can. He watches his fingers fly over the frets and wishes he had arched his back a little bit more in that shot. Stupid things he shouldn't give a shit about, and yet can't help but focus on. This is exactly what he was worried about when Aether suggested this outing.

Aether, on the other hand, seems to be struggling for other reasons entirely.

Dew can hear how heavy his breathing has gotten, can feel where his palm has gotten sweaty where their hands are joined. Not from the warmth of connection, but a clamminess that speaks of stress. Dew keeps looking at him from the corner of his eye, every time he hears a huff of breath or a sigh he's sure Aether thinks he's hiding, but the other ghoul's eyes remain locked on the screen. Dew's sure that if he were to lay his head on Aether's chest his heart would be racing. After one particularly harsh sigh Dew finally gives in. He focuses and reaches down the invisible link between their minds, nudging himself up against Aether's consciousness.

You okay, big guy?

Dew squeezes his hand and Aether visibly sags, shoulders slumping and legs falling apart in the reclined seat. Even in the dark, Dew can make out the bulge that movement reveals.

Oh, he slips into Aether's mind, not entirely on purpose, and the other ghoul lets out a quiet groan.

Look at you up there, Dew. Aether's reply carries rich warmth, the kind that soothes the nerves. The tone is worshipful, like Aether's borne witness to something spectacular. Fuck, just look at you.

The screen cuts to a close up of him as if on cue, fingers effortlessly gliding over his strings, and Dew's attention shifts to their joined hands. Aether's stroking his thumb over the most prominent vein on the back of his strumming hand, tracing it with effortless precision. A motion he's done a thousand times over, but one that feels so different with the starved way he's watching the screen.

He doesn't fight it when Aether pulls his hand into his lap, and his eyelids flutter when he feels just how hard Aether's gotten in his jeans. His own cock gives an interested twitch as he rubs at that sizable bulge, feeling it pulse against his palm. He doesn't say a word as he shrugs off Aether's grip, but he does roll his eyes when Aether whines into his head.

Two seconds, he says, scooting as close to Aether as he can in his seat. He pulls his jacket from his lap and lays it over Aether's instead, sneaking that clever hand back under to fondle him again. There, that's better.

Aether's mouth drops open when Dew gives him a squeeze, gripping his armrests so hard they creak. His eyes never leave the screen, though. Not even when Dew's elegant fingers start fiddling with his zipper. Not tugging it down, not yet, just dragging a nail over the teeth and loving the way it makes Aether flinch.

You're really worked up, aren't you?

He can't hide the twinge of surprise the thought carries, a curious inflection pushed into Aether's clearly distracted mind. He knows Aether loves to watch him play - always the one to tag along with him for midnight practice sessions and sunrise acoustic sets whenever sleep eludes him. And every time, no matter how many years pass, Dew would find Aether staring at his hands. Fixated on the control Dew prides himself on, focused on the way his skilled fingers danced over the neck and strummed out the most complex riffs with what looked like no effort at all. Aether would always rub his hands afterwards, massaging in just a hint of quintessence to help relieve hours of soreness.

Dew would reciprocate with a little rubbing of his own, of course. He's nothing if not a gentleman.

Still, though, seeing Aether fall apart so very rapidly over the sight of him on that screen comes as a surprise. He isn't one to show his cards like this, usually able to hold a straight face through damn near anything. Dew knows, he's seen it - Aether remains the only one unfazed by Aeon's puppy eyes, no matter how much the kid tries. That's proof enough of his stoicism.

And yet.

It's different. The words float into his mind, wobbly and unsure. Like Aether's really struggling to form coherent thoughts. It's...it's so much different like this.

They're the last words Aether manages before Dew feels the connection between their minds falter. He's pretty sure that's his own fault, given the way he's started massaging Aether through his ever tightening jeans, but it makes Dew chuckle under his breath. He refocuses on that link as he leans closer, until he can rest his head on Aether's bicep.

I'll take your word for it. Aether throbs against his palm and Dew groans low in his throat. Fuck, you're really hard aren't you?

"Shit," the other ghoul hisses, harsh, and a girl two rows down turns to glare at them. Aether shrinks a bit in his seat, and Dew is absolutely delighted.

None of that, he scolds, popping the button under his fingers. If you can't keep quiet, I'm not gonna be able to help you. Don't you want me to help you?

Dew tugs the zipper down and sees Aether bite his lip hard enough to draw blood when he reaches inside. It's damn near impossible to keep in his own pleasured groan when he finally gets a hand on Aether, finding him stone hard and hot to the touch. He pulls it out, hidden by the jacket, and Aether's head thuds against the back of his seat.

That's what I thought, Dew snickers, and that's all the warning Aether gets before that warm, bony hand starts to stroke.

Dew works him slow, with tight, twisting pulls that make Aether's thighs tremble in seconds. He nuzzles further into Aether's arm while the movie plays on, soaking in his rich cologne and the subtle scent of arousal. There's no urgency in the way he touches Aether, pausing every few downstrokes to get a hand on his balls too. To grope them, weigh them in his palm and really make Aether struggle to keep his eyes open. He manages, but Dew is certain that it's only because of the action on screen. He thumbs over the head and the other ghoul grunts out a curse in ghoulish, a guttural sound that sends a frission of something dark down Dew's spine.

He's too focused on the fine tremors shaking Aether's belly to notice the other ghoul's arm moving, and Dew jolts when a large hand lands heavy on the back of his neck, squeezing. His cock jumps where it sits already chubby and dribbling against his thigh, filling out that much more. He lets a wanton, breathy moan drift into Aether's mind and grins to himself when that hand gets even tighter.

His grin vanishes a second later, when Dew feels a familiar crackle against his skin. He gulps.

U-uh, Aeth -

A sudden rush of quintessence floods his system, pouring into his veins and curling around every last nerve ending. It's like an electric shock of pure pleasure, one that sets his skin on fire and makes his eyes cross, and as his dick pulses hard enough to hurt Dew has no hope of holding in his choked moan.

Thankfully Aether's arm catches most of it, but Dew can't even be bothered to see if anyone else noticed. His hand has gone still on Aether's throbbing cock, pre streaming over his fingers, and he sucks air through his teeth as an aftershock hits. He shudders, pulling back just enough to give his head a useless shake. Anything to clear some of the haze. He looks up at Aether again, and this time he finds the other ghoul staring right at him.

Finish what you started.

It slithers into his head, rough and rasping. Aether's thumb caresses the side of his neck, just shy of his thrumming pulse, and another spark of power shoots through him - one that makes his balls draw up. Dew groans deep in his chest and pushes his face into Aether's arm once more.

That's cheating, he complains, nothing but token protest. Aether's eyes shine even in the dark, sparkling lavender that holds such promise.

Do it and I promise I'll lick you out tonight, Aether rumbles, rocking up into that tight fist, and as the words sink into the folds of his brain Dew whimpers.

He really hopes Aether doesn't hear it.

He doesn't respond, and Aether's attention returns to the screen. His hand still sits on the back of Dew's neck though, holding firm, and Dew wastes no time in picking up where he left off. Aether's stomach visibly clenches when he pauses to rub at the frenulum, and the pulse of want that pounds through him when Aether's forced to bite his knuckles makes Dew's head spin.

He's long since lost track of the movie, occupied entirely with making sure Aether gets everything he needs out of his favorite pair of hands. He doesn't mind - he'll get the highlights later, once he can think with something besides his dick. For now, he dedicates himself to the task at (well, in, really) hand. It only takes a few more practiced twirls of the wrist for Aether's thighs to starts quivering again, and Dew knows he's about to get exactly what he wanted.

Aether curses again, a barely audible grunt, and as his own hands fill the screen once more Dew feels him go even harder.

That's it, he encourages, focusing on the head until Aether's legs go rigid. Let me have it, Aeth, give it all to me.

Aether suddenly turns, burying his face in Dew's hair to muffle his pained groan. Dew relishes every kick of his fat cock as it shoots all over the inside of his jacket, the last of the heavy spurts drooling down his shaft and coating Dew's fingers. The little ghoul works him through it, until he's left spent, sticky and breathless.

"Fuck, Dew," he whispers, barely audible over the pounding music.

Dew hums, pulling back his messy hand and licking it clean while Aether catches his breath. He's still very aware of the hand gripping his neck. It's something of a threat, truth be told - one more pulse of quintessence and he'll be toast. Aether may he able to cum quietly, but Dew? Dew can't keep his mouth shut when it comes to the magickal stuff and they both know it.

Later, if you want, he replies, sneaking his not entirely clean hand between his own legs. Aether's fixated on the screen again already, so he risks giving himself a grope. Rubs at his aching cock through too-tight denim just enough to take some of the edge off. He shivers as a blurt of pre squirts out onto his thigh, and has to stop himself from pushing any further.

He tucks his legs under him and leans into Aether's arm again. The hand on the back of his neck tightens, and for one horrifying moment Dew thinks Aether’s about to make him embarrass himself. Instead, though, Aether moves. Wraps that strong arm around his shoulders and holds him close, and in a lull between songs he leans down to plant a kiss on Dew's temple.

"Told you this would be fun," he murmurs, nosing at the place one of his horns should be. Dew can't help his pleased hum as he leans into it.

"Hate it when you're right," he mumbles, and Aether laughs louder than he probably should. The girl two rows down turns to shush him again and Aether offers her a sheepish wave of apology. They settle in together, leaning against one another while the movie plays on.

If they show you doing your Mummy Dust thing I'm gonna cum again, Aether sends down their link, and Dew doesn't have a name for the noise he makes.

[lisa-russell]

Bruuuuuuuuuuuh.

Edit: Heh. And dis is dah exact reason i love sharing splatoon fanart my fellow inkfish.

I like tumblr for its abilty tah actually show dah image if said artist doent want yah reposting, luckily ive been finding somf fresh folks who dont mind....

im also been reading all youse reactions as yah reblog its making laugh alot XD

Do make sure tah visit Sharp and like it if yah can X3

[seecarrun]

“Tah-dah.”

The combination of the deadpan tone and the perky little spirit finger wiggles is enough to make Eddie roll his eyes and scoff at Richie’s antics, so he opens his mouth and starts to call him a fucking idiot.

That is, until he actually gets a look at what it is Richie is showing him.

There, carved into the old wood of The Kissing Bridge, are the letters R+E.

He blinks down at them in something like surprise. “The fuck is this?” he asks. Richie frowns, irritated.

“It’s our fucking initials. What the fuck does it look like?”

“Well, why are our initials carved here?” Eddie asks, not meanly or anything, but definitely bewildered. “Who the fuck wrote our initials here?” He steps closer and bends down to get a better look. “This looks old. Is this from when we were kids? I never noticed this before. Did someone do this to make fun of us or something? Why wouldn’t they tell us? Did they tell you? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Richie waits for Eddie to finish the worst game of twenty-questions in history, exuding the kind of patience he didn’t even know he was capable of as Eddie goes on for what feels like forty fucking minutes.

“Dude,” he finally bursts out, unable to take it anymore, “I carved those. Me. Jesus Christ.”

Eddie blinks up at him, all eyes and freckles, confused. “You did this?”

“Yes.”

“When we were kids?”

“Yes.”

“So…” Eddie looks at the wood and then back at Richie again, and Richie tries not to burst into a million pieces as he sees the cogs slowly turning in Eddie’s head.

“Oh my god, get there faster!” he finally snaps, and Eddie shoots him a glare.

“Shut the fuck up, dude! You had thirty years to know about this shit, I’ve had thirty fucking seconds, I’m fucking processing!” Richie throws his arms into the air and does a weird, exasperated little circle as Eddie continues to inspect the carving, his brows furrowed. “You carved our initials into the kissing bridge when we were kids,” he states again, just to hear the whole thing put together, and gingerly runs his index finger over the plus-sign. “Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Richie asks, cringing.

“Obviously not, if I’m fucking asking.”

Richie’s heaves a sigh. “I liked you,” he finally admits. Somehow, the world doesn’t end. He briefly thinks teenage-Richie would have been surprised by that.

Eddie traces his finger along the E now, slowly. “You liked me back?” he says, so quietly it takes Richie a moment too long before he realizes what Eddie said.

“Wait, back?!”

(Part 2 here)

[clovercrafted]

✨ the shrine of remembrance ✨

Thought by Duskwood historians to be a long forgotten place of worship this old cave seems to have been taken over by an overgrowth of plant life.

Tah-dah, finally finished the portal room and the connecting nether portal too! The first shot is the nether-side portal while the rest is the remains of the stronghold I consumed.

Tag list ☘️: (ask to be +/-, if you changed your url/changed blogs and I lost track of you, let me know if you’d like to be readded!)

@gronglegrowth @absintheaftershock @adairctedgibbgirl @theronlovingcare @thefoxesraven @yourfriendphoenix @entomolodee @grymmdark @polnareffsbrows @sluttysoulcowboy @sculkgrowths @berieecraft @asynchronouscommunication

Blocks used: amethyst, basalt, stone, cobblestone, mossy cobble, andestite, oak planks, glow berries, flowering azalea leaves, calcite, sea grass, kelp, sea pickles

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

this is so deranged and depraved but andrei and one of those dick mold kits 👀

the idea is yours after andrei catches you using a vibrator that in his mind doesn’t measure up to the size of his cock

he fucks you deep into the mattress, muttering how his cock is the only one that can make you feel good, can make you cum, the only thing big enough to make you satisfied

after you’re in a totally fucked out state, andrei reminds you that he’s off on a two week road trip, leaving in a few days, and he trails his fingers over your still sweaty skin saying, “don’t even think about using that silly little toy while i’m gone. want you dripping for my cock when i’m home”

the next morning, when your orgasm haze is a distant memory, you realize what you agreed to. two weeks, no orgasms? no chance.

if andrei thinks only his cock is good enough for you, an evil little thought occurs to you.

you place the order and thanks to amazon prime, you’ve got your hot little hands on the kit two days later

andrei’s playing video games with neci, headset on and shouting into the microphone, when you dance into the den, kit hidden behind your back

he looks at your briefly before flicking his gaze back to the screen, clocking your mischievous expression and worrying just slightly about it

you wait patiently for him to die in the game, shifting your weight on the balls of your feet, bursting with excitement until andrei finally puts the controller down and lets the headset rest around his neck

“what has you like a…a…” he waves his hand in the air, looking for the expression. “jumping bean? cat that ate the canary? energizer bunny?” you supply options. “jumping bean works,” andrei huffs, furrowing his brow at the strange expression

“so you know how you said i’m not allowed to use my vibrator while you’re gone?”

“a silly piece of plastic isn’t going to make you as satisfied as i do, solnyshka”

“okay but what if the piece of plastic was as big as you are? contoured just like you, with that amazing vein on the underside?”

andrei looks at you like you’re crazy and then when you show him the kit, his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline and he shakes his head. “what is that?”

“it’s a kit, we mix up this gel stuff and then you stick, you know, your dick into it to make an impression and then i can pour silicone in there and tah dah! my very own piece of you while you’re on the road”

andrei’s deadpan. “no”

you wheedle and whine and complain that two weeks with only using your fingers to get yourself off is cruel and unusual punishment and at least he has his fist to fuck

andrei sighs and takes the box from you, studying it. you can see him considering it and you change tack, “obviously it wouldn’t be as good as your cock, not as hard and i love it when you cum in me, but it’s going to be better than my silly little vibrator. and! when you’re back you can fuck me with it too or i’ll suck on it while you fuck me…”

it’s that mental image that seems to send andrei over the edge on his decision. he nods, a little twinkle forming in his eyes. “okay, we’ll do it. but i get to be the one to use it on you first, yes?”

you’ll agree to anything so your head bobbles on a nod and you take the kit back, already skipping off to the kitchen to mix up the ingredients for the mold

andrei leans back on the couch, legs spread wide, lazily palming his cock while he watches you work. he’s more than half hard by the time you finish and he grins at you, “come finish the job, solnyshka. long way to go before i’m ready for that kit”

you leave the kit on the counter and practically dance over to the couch, settling yourself on your knees in front of the couch, andrei’s legs bracketing your body. you eye him hungrily, “i don’t think i’ll have to do too much work,” you grin

andrei shrugs, leaning back and draping his arms over the back of the couch. he gestures at his cock with one hand, “get your hands on me”

you don’t have to be told twice, leaning up on your knees so you can reach for the waistband of his basketball shorts. you pull them down, tapping his thighs so he’ll lift his ass off the couch so the pants will come down. his cock springs free from its confines and you snicker a little at the realization that he was going commando “were you hoping to get lucky later, mr. svechnikov?”

“didn’t have to wait until later, did i?” he asks, hissing when you brush your thumb over the sensitive head of his cock

you hum thoughtfully before licking your palm and wrapping your hand around his shaft

andrei’s hips buck off the couch and he groans at your touch, you keep stroking him until he’s as hard as you know he’s going to get, the head of his cock angry and red and leaking

for good measure, you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and suck gently, enjoying the way he groans your name and tangles his hand in your hair. you pull your head back and press a little kiss to his slit, making andrei moan deep in the back of his throat. “stay still,” you grin wickedly up at him

“i’m going to come in that silly gel,” andrei grunts, fingers gripping the couch cushions

“you can’t, not until it’s set and i have my toy,” you grab the tube and after a little gymnastics and a lot of giggling, andrei’s hard cock is in the tube, the gel leaking out all around the sides and over your hands while you hold it in place

he complains about the temperature and the sensation but you climb onto the couch and distract him with your mouth on his while it sets

after you take him out, he grimaces and rubs his hand over his cock to get the feeling of the gel off, bringing himself close again

this time you take pity on him and wrap your hand around his base and your lips around his head

andrei finishes in your mouth with a grunt of your name and he slumps back into the couch, spent

“thank you for your service,” you giggle hoarsely, dancing off into the kitchen to pour the silicone into the mold

later, when the toy is ready (a perfect replica of andrei’s cock, right down the the veins) he’s true to his word, using it to fuck you to a wet and fast orgasm

“god, wish it were hotter,” you whine around his fingers, stuffed in your mouth, “not the same”

it feels good, so much better than your other toys, but it doesn’t throb inside of you like andrei’s cock

“good,” he growls, “nothing but my cock for my solnyshka”

he ends up having you suck on the toy while he fucks into you hard and fast with the real thing

stuffing you from both ends and seeing you run your tongue over the replica of him, makes andrei see stars when he comes inside of you

definitely loves to get the videos and pictures of you using the toy when he’s on the road but always makes sure to remind you that nothing feels as good as his cock

[dnf171]

Inspired by Daniel’s silly EA advert… hope someone enjoys!

It’s been a good day. A lot of the drivers hate this stuff, putting on the tap shoes for the sponsors and asking how high, but Daniel- He kinda likes it.

It’s something he’s good at, turning up to a set and being silly, making people laugh and being told good job Daniel. That’s great, perfect. The words give his chest the kind of buoyancy that has him feeling he could float the whole way home.

They’re a reminder that soon enough, he’ll be back in Melbourne where everyone will say his name with the same tenderness the director has given him, but this time wanting the best for him, instead of from him.

“Amazing job today Daniel,” Robert says again now, clapping a warm hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “I think that last part was enough just in the one take. You’re a natural.”

The pleased smile on Daniel’s face spreads easily.

“Cool,” is all he says though, “happy to help, I- Actually mate, I was hoping you’d let me have a little something in return.”

—

“Maxy!” Daniel calls, wrestling with both the front door and the giant box. “Where are you, baby?”

Their house in LA is big, his words bouncing off the walls of the grand entrance hall. Usually, it’s full of friends, sometimes family, but this week for once it’s just the two of them.

“Sofa!” Max shouts back, voice croaky like maybe he’d been napping. He’s probably not left the same spot Daniel left him in this morning. “How was the shoot, was it nice?”

Dumping his keys on the hallway table, Daniel follows the sound of Max’s voice. As suspected, he’s still stretched out across the cushions, belly up like Jimmy when he’s sunbathing in the balcony back home. His hand is shoved down the front of his shorts, but only idly. Daniel can see he’s not hard.

Still, for a moment his gaze gets caught there, before shifting back to Max’s face, his curious expression as he takes in the giant box Daniel is holding.

Right.

“I got you something,” Daniel says, setting it down on the coffee table. He opens it and begins to dig around. “A lot of merch swag and shit, but- Tah dah!”

He pulls out the game, proudly showing Max the box that has his own face on the cover. F1 2024.

“Oh,” Max says, and his smile is as sweet at the two happy pink splotches that begin to warm up his cheeks. “Thank you, Daniel.”

He sits up then, taking the game from Daniel’s hands and holds it like it’s something very special.

It’s not much of a gift really, because Max could get a copy for himself whenever he wanted. His people could call EA, or if he was feeling particularly desperate he could offer to do an ad of his own, but- He wouldn’t.

The only things he’s ever to gone out of his way to get are his championships and Daniel.

“I will have to wait for Lando to get his copy,” Max is continuing, but already he’s moving to crouch in front of their TV, his PlayStation, “or maybe Charles, for the multi-player but-“

“I can play,” Daniel interrupts, picking up the controller from their coffee table. It feels less foreign in his hand after a day being recorded holding it.

Max pauses, game disk spinning on one finger as he turns to look at Daniel.

“You want to play?”

He sounds confused, surprised.

“Sure,” Daniel says, all fake nonchalance. “I’ve even had a head start playing, I might be better than you.”

With a warmth fizzing in his belly, he watches the shock on Max’s face melt into quiet joy. He ducks his head to finish putting the game into the console, and when he takes a seat next to Daniel on the sofa, it’s close enough that their thighs are pressed together. Warm.

“I think if you want to beat me, you will have to hold it like this,” Max pokes at Daniel with a teasing grin, and then his hands are moving gently over Daniel’s to correct where he’s apparently holding the controller all wrong.

Daniel snorts, pushing out an elbow to nudge at the soft place Max’s ribs hide underneath.

“Fighting talk, baby,” he insists with far more confidence than he feels. “Just you wait, you’ll be begging for mercy.”

Max’s laugh is bright.

“Okay but I think we need to look at the settings first,” he begins again, “because of course I have the sensitivity set very high, and-“

Daniel lets Max’s explanations wash over him like music.

—

Later, Daniel manages to finally win a race by shunting Max into the first corner, speeding away while he’s still spinning in the gravel.

“That of course, does not count,” Max insists indignantly, though there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That is cheating, Daniel.”

“Not what you said in Baku baby,” Daniel reminds him, and then pokes his tongue out when Max begins to trip over his protests that he has done nothing wrong, ever.

Daniel begins a loud rendition of ‘we are the champions,’ in favour of listening.

Giving up his attempts to defend himself, Max tosses his controller onto the coffee table with a sharp clatter, instead choosing to crawl over Daniel, pressing him down into the sofa.

“I will show you a fucking champion,” he mutters, his thigh finding its way between Daniel’s legs.

Daniel’s own controller hits the hard wood floor with a thud.

[finniestoncrane]

Here is me requesting my birthday maxi smut honestly im thinking maxi threw some stuff together for a little surprise for her ! And ( he actually does give her a real gift) but the best part comes in the bedroom....

Pun not intended 🤣

I Got You Something

Maximus x Fem!Reader, word count: 1k ay happy birthday!! i love maximus, he's just the softest, sweetest little lamb and the strangest little bug ever and i am obsessed with him and how he'd learn how to be a good boyfriend to someone ;-; 🧡 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: fluff, lil bit of smut, oral sex mostly!!

"You're paying attention, right? Because I really can't see anything..."

"Yeah, yeah, I got you! Just a little... further...Oh, shit, watch that pile of... what is that?"

Your feet kicked something soft in front of you and you recoiled, caught in Maximus' arms.

"Max! Can you just uncover my eyes, please?"

"No, almost there. Just a little further..."

As sweet as the gesture was, you almost regretted telling Maximus that it was your birthday. He was so keen to impress, so determined to make sure you still retained a semblance of your old life, of some goodness. He wanted you to keep that optimism, the kind that made you excited for something like a birthday, something he'd never really been all that fussed by.

More importantly, he wanted to be a good boyfriend.

So he kept his front pressed to your back and guided you over the miscellaneous debris that he had neglected to clean out of the way when he found a safe enough space to set up for your surprise. And then, when you were past the door frame, he removed his hands from your eyes and practically squealed.

"... ok, tah-dah!"

When your vision returned, you found yourself in an empty room, the view from the window suggesting it was on the outskirts of the settlement you and Max had been staying in for the past couple of weeks. On the walls there were tiny triangles of stained fabric, tied together to form bunting. In the corner, a bed with the cleanest sheets you'd seen in months and a dresser with an assortment of your favourite snacks. And in the centre of the room, two dining chairs and a wobbling table, upon which there was a strange looking package.

"Max! This is..."

"It's not great, I know, but... Happy Birthday!"

You could tell that your silence was worrying him, so you choked out whatever words could come to you first.

"Maxi... this is amazing."

The effort he'd put into making the space look at least a little welcoming, and a tiny bit liveable, had rendered you almost entirely speechless, unable to express to him how much it really meant to you.

"You sure?"

"Of course! It's... I love it. It's amazing. Thank you."

Reaching up to him, you cupped his cheek as you pressed a kiss to the other, beaming a bright smile at him before you gestured to the package on the table.

"And this?"

"Oh, right! Your present."

"My present?"

Your eyes widened, excited at what you had suspected had been a gift.

"It's not really like... We don't- didn't... do birthdays in the Brotherhood. But I know it's a big deal for you so..."

He reached for the gift, pulling out a chair for you and placing the parcel in your lap once you were seated. As you looked closely at it, you could make out some of the design on the paper. Singed edges of old comic books, scraps from books, all held together with some strips of duct tape. It upset you to even unwrap it, as you thought about the effort he had gone to, so you tore the paper away gently, admiring your gift once you had revealed it.

"Oh, Maxi, this is so sweet."

You held an almost pristine souvenir mug with the Nuka-Cola logo on the front. There was no way of knowing how he'd managed to find it up here, or how much he might have had to spend to get it from a trader. It was perfect.

"It's not great... it's... I'm sorry, it's crap."

"It is not! I love it!"

"Wow, really? Because I had a back-up if you didn't-"

Your ears pricked up, eyes focusing on his sweet, flushed cheeks as your pupils dilated.

"A back-up? You mean there's another gift?"

Maximus stammered over his words, nervously scratching at the back of his neck, flustered by the intense focus you were now giving him.

"It's more of a... like a surprise."

"Well, show me!"

With a renewed excitement, Max took your hand and guided you from the table to the bed, slightly giddy in the way he practically skipped over to it.

"Ok, lie down."

You raised an eyebrow with an excited smile, but did as he asked, letting your body sink into the busted bedframe and watching as he sank to his knees at the bottom of the bed. His hands, shaking with nerves, skimmed up your thigh and grabbed your hips, pulling you down the mattress closer to him. You let out a squeal of shock, giggling as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your pants, pulling them down your legs and taking your underwear with them.

"Max!"

"What?"

You sat up on your elbows, looking down at him with a grin so wide it almost hurt your cheeks.

"Are you really doing this?"

"Yeah... I've been practising."

He raised his eyebrows, his lips forming a sweet, proud smile.

"Yep, I've been practising."

"I don't even want to ask how..."

"Then don't, just let me show you."

With your lower half completely exposed, your pants and underwear placed in a small heap next to where Maximus knelt, you felt your body warming with arousal, anticipation spreading through your veins as you felt him leaning in, his warm breath on your thighs, then against your cunt.

And then, his tongue, hot, wet, pressed flat against your lips, forcing the tip between then, spreading them apart as he dragged the muscle up and down over your entrance, teasing it as he reached the top. He had been practising, and he’d obviously learned a little bit about anatomy somehow.

“Max… Max, this is… it’s so good…”

He paused for a moment, smiling happily, a sense of pride in his work.

“It is… you taste good… better than anything I’ve eaten out here…”

You gripped at the sheets as he returned to your body, lips enclosing over your pussy as he sucked and lapped, moaning with satisfaction at how you tasted, how you felt against his face, thighs pressed against his cheeks. And with the innocent joy he always held for these intimate moments together, he wondered if you’d let him do this again for his birthday.

[sag-dab-sar]

Monetizing Accessibility

I wrote a review awhile ago for an app that I heavily relied on due to my dyslexia and TBI— Speechify. Its a text-to-speech reader that I can take photos of text books or signs and have them read to me. I used it plenty. You can take as many photos as you want, upload them, and have it read to you. Well..... thats what you used to be able to do. Then I updated the app and tah dah the main feature is behind a paywall!!! I can upload 3 files (photo/photoset) only! And if I want more I have to pay THIS fucking much:

So I updated my app review from 5 stars to 1

Then a long time later I got this email:

"One time discount" on something that was fucking free. Its the most basic feature. There were plenty of additional features to pay for and ads prior. Now the ENTIER goddamn app, including the absolute most basic function, above 3 files is behind a $140 paywall. I don't want 90% of the features just keeping files like I could before. Its not even a one time fee; its a subscription. As if my TBI and dyslexia only lasts a year. Not to mention I already deleted my entire library.

I fucking hate how goddamn expensive being disabled it is. The email is an insult.