#mixed skin types

[spenjelly]

Advice for mixed skin types be like “treat this part of ur face this way and this part that way” but what they don’t know is that the same exact parts of my face are oily and peeling at the same hekkin time ‘:\

[teddy-bear-d]

Gem and the Scotts, Scotts and the Gem

[ookaookaooka]

i just spent ages looking for the post, i swear i posted about it when i broke my beloved fish plate like a year ago, but now he's finally back together! i just have to wait a week or so for the resin to cure , and then i can go in and wipe away the excess gold. even though the process was frustrating and VERY time-consuming and i lost motivation halfway through and let it sit on the shelf unfinished for like 14 months, i'm glad i went to the trouble of learning how to actually kintsugi it with resin and gold instead of rushing it with epoxy and mica powder.

the before pics (freshly broken and after the initial gluing):

[maretriarch]

i remember when drawing trolls as just grey humans was looked down upon...the good old days

[catgirlkirigiri]

My scug, Dandy! They can piggyback two slugpups and carry one in their mouth to hold babies and keep their hands free :D They'd start their campaign with one pup (that pup being Metal Pipe, the little grey/black one) and have increased pup spawn rates. She's also able to tame lantern mice, centipedes, and jetfish! And finally her spots and antennae glow in the dark, essentially giving the effect of eating a neuron fly without having to go get one. They would also be unable to ascend due to their title/role as a parent to abandoned slugpups; I like to think their campaign's ending would be similar to the slugtree ending Monk and Survivor have.

[hvly]

it never gets easier explaining to people that medium/dark skinned black women aren’t limited to just 4C hair and can have naturally looser hair textures just like light skinned black people.

[marigraphia]

Behold: The Yassification of Emma Frost!

So, early last year I went into a haze and read all the Emma backstory comics I could find -- and it was a bit disappointing to find out there's not much focus in depicting her visual journey from ugly duckling teenager to bombshell blonde. Emma's appearance is so important for both her character and her in-universe history, in a way that it is pretty rare in cape comics, and I was looking forward to see it develop in a consistent way... So I did it myself :)

Better look + rambles under the cut

The references were:

Emma Frost (2003) for her school to university years, and everything in between (#1-16)

Generation X (1994) #24 and X-Men (2010) #13 for her brief mental asylum stay (#17)

X-Men Origins: Emma Frost (2010), X-Men: Deadly Genesis (2006) #5 and Uncanny X-Men (1981) #531 for her early Hellfire Club days (#18-21)

And some random comics from around her 1979 debut, for more accuracy in the original costume (#22)

The focus in choosing what to redraw wasn't really impacting moments in Emma's life or anything, just strictly showing her visual journey. Here's what I tried to make each little sketch say:

1- Young Emma isn't a dazzling natural beauty, and also doesn't really know how (or care) to best present herself.

2- Makeover! This is young Emma looking her best. I really kept the makeup in mind when colouring her, you can probably see when directly comparing both portraits (especially how the lips and brows were filled out). Also, her hair was trimmed and straightened.

3- She took the makeover seriously, this is now how she dresses to go to school. Plus a nice expression and angle.

4- You can see her body. She's scrawny and there's not much in the chest area (though I'm not great at drawing small breasts, so this part might not be as apparent). Wears a one-piece swimsuit and does her hair to suntan, indicating a lack of confidence.

5- This one is a bit of a sneak peek for the next post, and it's all about comparing her and her sisters. The focus is also how insecure she was. It's from right before her father announces her as his heir (and she rejects), which will mater later.

6- What one decides to dress when dramatically running away from home says a lot about you. Plus full body shot.

7 & 8 - At work vs eating out, wearing the same outfit. She's much more confident in herself since leaving home.

9- I mostly just wanted to draw this scene (and I absolutely love how it came out!!), but I also like the comparison between her more natural hair and how it looked fresh off the tight ponytail in #8. Just wavy hair things.

10- Fancied-up! There were probably better ways to show off the dress, and how much more confident she must be to wear something like it, but I really wanted to draw her laughing.

11- Serves mostly as a comparison to #10, but also highlights how the dress doesn't really fit her (both because she's still a bit scrawny and because she doesn't have many shopping options at this point).

12- She's finally blonde!! I wanted the hair to look a bit orange, because this was her first time bleaching it (and probably by herself, since she's trying not to be recognised). Her clothes are pretty clearly stuff she had for work, and we never see her wear anything similar again (though the artist changed here, so can't say if it was on purpose).

13- New portrait, now that our girl has officially gone blonde (now professionally done). She's also lost some baby fat since the last one.

14- This comic was released in 2003, so the fashion is Something. Considering the sliding timescale, though, that's probably not far from when current Emma would've gone to university, so I couldn't miss the chance. And I also used this one to show her wearing a padded bra.

15- A better look at her body (now without the bra, which she took off when getting home). I also thought it'd be cute if she still did a side-part when in private (aka not worrying about being recognised).

16- The end-of-arc full-body shots are basically a tradition now.

17- Generation X #24 and X-Men #13 had conflicting info on whether her hair was brown or blonde at that point, so I went with roots showing (which makes sense, it doesn't seem like they were having beauty days in there), though I admittedly have no idea how long she stayed there nor how much it'd realistically grow during the time. Also, the skin situation isn't supposed to be like this under the makeup all the time, it's just the stress. And I gave her mixed skin, because it's what seemed to make the most sense for someone who had a lot of pimples as a kid but apparently no big issue after that.

18- First day at the Hellfire Club! Her outfit here is still based on the one she wears in the comic, but I kind of reverse-engineered it using pieces from the 2006 VSFS segment 'Winter Wonderland of Glacial Goddesses', just because I thought it'd be cool touch lol. (Corset worn by Hana Soukupová, panties/stockings by Ana Beatriz Barros, cape by Adriana Lima, and poofy shoulder thing by Julia Stegner, who also inspired the hair)

19- New portrait to mark another change. I love her necklace! Jokes aside, I've also given her lip and brows fillers. And she lost most of the remaining baby fat. Honestly, I think this is the one ended up the most Emma, if that makes sense.

20- No way I'd skip on drawing her with a freshly broken nose. Mixed her looks from X-Men Origins: Emma Frost and X-Men: Deadly Genesis #5 because I think it'd be cool if the Charles/Moira and Shaw scenes took place in the same night.

21- The moment she becomes the White Queen. I purposefully drew it on the same angle as #5, as a parallel (told you it'd come up later). Not only because of the significance of both moments, but also to showcase the absurd growth in self-confidence. Also, spot the new nose and the bloodstain.

22- Emma, finally, as she was first seen on comics! I'm not super sure why I decided her shade of blonde would start off darker than how I colour it today, and at first I didn't even know when the change to this lighter tone would happen (actually even considering going back and making everything the same), but I really like how it turned out. She doesn't get a crown when becoming the White Queen, so maybe dying her hair almost white was her own personal coronation.

And if you read all of this you get bonus alternate versions 😊

[nauticalfools]

Can I ask for some skincare advice?

[homunculus-argument]

I don't think fantasy writers play enough with the concept of the different fantasy races having distinct ethnicities. Like imagine a group of mixed peoples, where the dwarves are all roasting each other like dwarves do, and one of them remarks that when he first saw one of the other dwarves in the group, he mistook her for a man. The other dwarves in the group blink in surprise - the closest that dwarves will go to an audible gasp of shock - and she pulls out a knife and tries to stab him.

Once the dwarves have been separated from each other and the situation has calmed, one of the humans asks another dwarf what that incident was about. Naturally a human woman would have been insulted too, but dwarves are so jovial about insulting each other, why was this matter different?

And the dwarf who was asked explains that there are things you can brutally insult another dwarf about, and there are things you simply do not touch. The dwarf-woman in question is from a completely different region of The Great Underground as the others, and her people have different norms about what kind of patterns men and women braid into their beards. The dwarf insulting her wasn't only insulting her appearance, he was being racist.

The human is surprised to learn that dwarves have different peoples, and the dwarf looks at them like at an idiot. Of course they do, they even look completely different from each other. And the human listens as the dwarf lists off various distinguishing clothing details too nuanced for a human to notice, and then how dwarves coming from different corners of the world have different physical traits, according to what kind of conditions their local stone types dictate.

The human spots a connection and goes oh! We have that too, though ours are not about rock types and tunnel air, but the weather aboveground. Humans' facial features vary by how hot, cold, arid or windy their ancestors' homelands were, and our skin tone varies by how much the sun shines in their native region.

The dwarf frowns at the last part, going "I thought you people just paint your skin and dye your hair for fun", and the human admits that yeah, we do that too, but not all the time, and not the whole skin. The dwarf asks, what of that tall woman the colour of dravite, her palms and the soles of her feet were lighter than the rest of her. Does that mean she paints herself dark to be more beautiful?

The human says no, that just happens naturally. Maybe it's because one's palms and feet aren't exposed to the sun as much, so they are paler.

The dwarf nods, still unsure whether this is actually legit or just the human habit of lying for fun, and proceeds to ask about the wild northman of their party. He is as pale as an olm, but the palms of his hands and the soles of his feet are dark. Are they painted, or naturally that way?

No, the human answers. That guy just doesn't bathe.

[er1nne]

rafe hates when you buy things without using his card

(do not copy or plagarize, original work) The Range Rover hummed quietly, its blacked-out interior wrapping you and Rafe in a cocoon of shadows and muted streetlights. It had been his idea to take you for a nail day—completely unprompted but not surprising. Rafe had a way of knowing when you needed a little spoiling, especially after the week you’d had. The air smelled like his cologne, something expensive and sharp, mixing with the faint scent of leather from the seats. You were reclined comfortably with both legs stretched out, your freshly painted white toes wiggling lazily as you scrolled through your phone.

Rafe sat in the driver’s seat, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh. His thumb stroked absentminded circles into your skin while his sharp blue eyes flicked toward the darkened street ahead. Traffic was crawling, a sea of red taillights stretching endlessly ahead. Rafe didn’t seem too bothered, one hand resting on the wheel while the other stayed on your thigh. His thumb moved in slow, hypnotic circles against your skin, his blue eyes flicking between the road and the glow of your phone screen. He was calm—you liked him this way.

“What’s got you so quiet, huh?” His voice broke the silence, smooth but with an edge that always demanded your attention.

“Just trying to check out before everything sells out,” you mumbled, barely glancing up. You were busy, furiously tapping away as you finalized your cart. The latest House of CB drop was a battlefield, and you weren’t about to lose.

“Lemme see.” He leaned closer, his sharp gaze cutting toward your screen. When he caught sight of the digits you were typing, his brows furrowed, his jaw tightening. “Wait, is that your card?”

You paused, immediately bracing for what was coming. “Yeah? Why?”

Rafe let out a short, irritated laugh, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You have all of my cards saved to your phone, and you’re using your own card? What the hell for?”

“It’s not a big deal, Rafe.” You kept your voice calm, like you weren’t trying to spark an argument in the middle of what was such a nice day. “It’s not like I can’t afford it.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a humorless smirk. “Afford it?” he repeated, voice tinged with a certain tone to it. “Sweetheart, I literally pay for your life. Why do you even have a card? For decoration?”

You glared at him, but the faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips betrayed you. “Rafe—”

“No, seriously,” he cut in, shaking his head as if the idea itself was absurd. “What are you holding onto that thing for? Just in case I drop dead tomorrow and you suddenly need it?”

You huffed an air of annoyance as a pout covered your slightly glossed lips and starred out the car window. The car filled with an almost unbearable silence. His hand, which had been rubbing your thigh, went still.

He turned to glance at you a few times before looking back at the road, the corner of his mouth twitching with a mix of disbelief and annoyance. “Afford-” he repeated again slightly scoffing, voice low and slow, like he was trying to decide if you were messing with him. “Do you even hear yourself?”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms leaning slightly closer to his natural warmth. “It’s not that much.”

“To you. To me, that’s pocket change.” His fingers drummed a little harder against the steering wheel now, a restless energy creeping into his movements more obvious than ever.

“Rafe,” you started to whine, but he cut you off, shaking his head.

“Nah. Don’t start.” He turned fully to face you now, his hand lifting to cup your jaw, gently but firmly enough that you couldn’t look away. “Why do you always make this a thing? Is it so hard to let me take care of you? That’s why I’m here. To take care of you. You’re supposed to let me.”

Your resolve faltered under his intense gaze. He wasn’t just irritated—he was hurt. His words were a reminder, the same ones he’d given you before. Rafe wasn’t just possessive for the sake of it—he hated seeing you stress over anything, especially when he had the means to give you whatever you needed, whenever you wanted it. He didn’t want you holding onto burdens you didn’t have to carry. He’d told you before how it made him feel when you refused to lean on him, how he hated the idea of you ever struggling when he had the means to make your life easier. Rafe always told you how much he loved taking care of you, he felt proud to. Anything you ever want, he would give you, plus more.

“I’m not helpless,” you said softly, and it sounded weak even to your own ears.

“Did I say that you were?” he shot back immediately, his sharp blue eyes flicking from the road to meet yours. There was no trace of anger in his voice, just a steady, unyielding determination. “I know what you’re capable of. But you don’t have to do it all alone anymore.”

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his gaze softening, though his tone stayed firm. “I’ve got you. I’m right here. You’re mine, remember? So stop making it harder than it needs to be. Let me do my job.”

Even while navigating the slow-moving traffic, his focus on you didn’t waver. His eyes flicked back to yours, holding them for just a second longer than he should have, but long enough to make your heart skip a beat. You felt the weight of his words settle over you, the quiet conviction in his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Rafe…” you started. You stared at him for a long moment before finally relenting, handing over your phone with a quiet sigh. “Fine. Just this once.”

He smirked, already deleting your card details and replacing them with his own Amex Black information. The confirmation dinged almost immediately, and he handed the phone back to you, smug satisfaction written all over his face. “There. Easy. Now you’ve got your shit, and I’ve got my peace of mind.”

“Thank you,” you muttered, cheeks warming as you avoided his eyes.

Rafe tilted your chin up, his fingers brushing against your jaw as he pressed a lingering kiss to your lips. “Don’t thank me, baby. Just stop making this harder than it has to be. Just let me take care of you?” A small pout covered your slighly glossed lips as you responded to him in a small voice, "Okay."

“That’s my girl,” He smiled and leaned back in his seat, hand returning to your thigh as he glanced toward the street, his usual sharp focus slipping back into place.

You smiled slightly, your frustration melting away as you leaned into him. Because no matter how stubborn you could be, you both knew he’d always win in the end. And deep down, you didn’t mind.

[nil-the-glitch]

actually yknow what, no. this is not being limited to discord, yall get it too.

some general cooking tips (in which there is a brief senshi posession):

moisture is the enemy of crispy skin. pat dry with paper towel, and if you have the time and spoons, give a thorough but even coat of baking powder and let sit uncovered in your fridge overnight. this will dry out the skin nicely. for pork belly, create a tight foil boat so that only the skin is showing, and cover in salt to draw out moisture, repeating a couple times if necessary.

furikake seasoning, for the fellow rice lovers, is just nori (seaweed), sesame seeds, sugar, and msg/salt. you might have most if not all of these things already in your kitchen.

chai spice mix is just cinnamon, ginger, cardamom, cloves, nutmeg, & allspice.

pumpkin spice is just cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and ginger.

to cure your own bacon, you only need water, white and brown sugar, and a non-iodized salt - himalayan pink salt is not iodized, if you cannot find butchers curing pink salt. from there, you can add any seasoning/flavoring you want.

the truly adventurous may cook their rice in green tea for a fresh clean taste.

you can tell if a fish is truly fresh by their eyes - clear and bright is fresh, while cloudy is older or potentially has been frozen.

it's cheaper to buy a large block pack of ramen from your local asian market and repackage the bricks into sandwich bags, than to buy a box of individually packaged ones such as maruchan or top ramen.

when buying meat, look at it's fat content - more fat marbling usually means more tender + flavorful.

you can save onion skins and other vegetable scraps to make your own broth with. you can also save bones for this. mix and match ratios to create your ideal flavor.

bay leaf will always make a soup or broth taste better, but Watch Out (they are not fun to bite into on accident).

msg is, in fact, not The Devil, that was just a racist hate campaign against the chinese and other oriental races. it's literally just a type of salt. it is no more dangerous to eat than any other type of salt.

washing your rice is important because it not only improves flavor and texture by removing excess starch, but it also helps reduce any residual pesticides or dirt, or even insect fragments (please remember that rice paddies are essentially giant ponds that all kind of things live in and swim around. you should also be washing all your produce in general.)

please salt your cooking water for pastas, it just tastes better and you will be happier for it.

boiled potatoes are also improved by salt water.

if you hate vegetables, please consider trying them fried in butter or perhaps bacon grease. it is healthier to eat them fatty than not at all.

healthy food does not in fact have to taste miserable. thats a lie. they are lying to you. free yourself from your blandness shackles. enter a world of flavor.

[jaysng]

post arguement — park sunghoon

pairing: bf!sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: angst (resolved), fluff

synopsis: waking up the next day after an argument, sunghoon is a little shy to ask you to follow up your daily routine together.

• help palestine, click me

sunghoon had always been the quiet type, never one to express too much, but last night’s argument was different.

it left an uncomfortable tension lingering between you two, something neither of you were used to. you tossed and turned in bed, unable to find peace, the memory of harsh words replaying in your mind like a broken record.

the morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. you had barely slept, your mind restless with unresolved thoughts.

you felt a soft nudge on your arm, and as you blinked your eyes open, there was sunghoon, standing beside the bed, his expression unreadable, a mix of uncertainty and something else you couldn’t quite place.

he hesitated for a moment, as if he was trying to find the right words. “can you… do that thing?” he finally mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze flickering away from yours.

it was unlike him to ask for anything, especially after a fight, but you knew what he meant. every morning, without fail, you’d apply his skincare for him, a small act that had somehow become your routine.

you let out a sleepy groan, turning away from him and pulling the covers over your head. “not today, hoon,” you murmured, your voice muffled, teasing him just a little, but deep down, you knew you couldn’t actually refuse him.

he stood there for a moment, the silence stretching out between you two.

“please?” he added, a little softer this time, a rare vulnerability in his voice that made your heart soften. it wasn’t like him to ask twice.

you sighed softly, sitting up and pushing the covers off. “fine,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully as you climbed out of bed.

“but only because you said please.” despite the remnants of last night’s argument hanging in the air, you didn’t have it in you to say no to him. maybe this was his way of making peace, in the only way he knew how.

“thanks,” he mumbled, almost too quiet to hear, but you caught the sincerity in his voice.

you slipped out of bed, your feet padding softly on the cold floor as you headed to the small vanity where you kept the skincare products.

sunghoon followed you, his steps equally soft, almost as if he was afraid to break the fragile silence that had settled between you two.

“you know, you could’ve just done it yourself today,” you teased lightly, grabbing the moisturizer and turning to face him.

he shook his head, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“it’s not the same,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze fixed on the floor. it was rare for him to be this open, and it made you pause for a second.

you motioned for him to sit properly, and he complied, scooting back a bit so he was closer to you.

you took a deep breath, your hands working automatically as you unscrewed the cap of his moisturizer. the familiar scent filled the space between you, and for a moment, it felt like everything was back to normal.

“you’re such a baby, you know that?” you said, your tone playful as you smoothed the cream onto your fingers.

“only for you,” he replied, his lips curving into the smallest of smiles, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

you gently applied the moisturizer to his face, your touch soft and careful, as if you were trying to erase the harshness of the previous night with every gentle swipe.

sunghoon’s eyes closed, his face relaxing under your touch, and you could feel the tension slowly melting away.

neither of you spoke, the silence was heavy but not uncomfortable. it was the kind of silence that spoke volumes, the kind that said everything you both were too afraid to put into words.

you finished with the moisturizer, your fingers lingering on his skin for a moment longer before you pulled away.

but instead of standing back up, you suddenly decided to straddle his lap, settling yourself comfortably as you faced him. his eyes flew open, a hint of surprise in them as you smiled down at him, your hands resting on his shoulders.

“what are you doing?” he asked, his voice a little shaky, clearly flustered by your sudden proximity.

“just making sure you’re not going anywhere,” you teased, leaning in to smooth out the moisturizer on his forehead.

you could feel the warmth of his body beneath you, his breath hitching slightly as your fingers grazed his skin.

sunghoon was trying hard to keep his composure, but you could see the faint blush creeping up his neck, spreading to his cheeks.

“you’re really… close,” he mumbled, his hands hesitantly finding their way to your waist, unsure of where to put them.

“is that a problem?” you asked, your tone teasing as you finished up with his skincare, your hands lingering on his cheeks for a moment longer.

he shook his head, his eyes flickering up to meet yours for just a second before they darted away again. “no… it’s just… different,” he admitted, his voice barely audible, but you caught the shy smile playing on his lips.

you leaned in closer, your face just inches from his, your breath mingling with his as you whispered, “different can be good, you know.”

he didn’t respond, but you could see the way his eyes softened, the way his hands tightened slightly around your waist, holding you just a little closer.

“about last night…” he started, his voice hesitant, his gaze flickering to the side, avoiding yours. “i’m… i didn’t mean to make you upset.”

you felt a small smile tug at your lips, his awkwardness endearing. “i know,” you replied softly, reaching out to take his hand, squeezing it gently.

“i’m sorry too, i shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

he finally looked back at you, a hint of relief in his eyes.

“we’re okay, right?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost as if he was afraid of your answer.

“yeah, we’re okay,” you reassured him, giving his hand another squeeze. “just… try not to be such a grump next time, okay?”

he huffed out a small laugh, the tension finally breaking.

“i’ll try,” he promised, a shy smile playing on his lips.

for a moment, you just sat there, side by side, the morning light wrapping around you like a gentle embrace.

and though the argument wasn’t entirely forgotten, the weight of it had lessened, replaced by the quiet understanding that you’d work through it together, just like you always did.

• REBLOG if you enjoyed, do not copy or repost.

[misswynters]

Ekko eating you out

featuring. ekko x fem! reader

warnings. smut (18+), fingering, the reader getting eaten out, ekko being a munch (lol is that the right term?), first time this type of smut :/

Ekko knelt at the edge of the bed, his warm palms gliding along the soft skin of your thighs, gripping them just hard enough to leave a memory of his touch. The dim light in the room cast shadows on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the glint of his piercing eyes as they stayed fixed on you.

“You look beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. His thumbs rubbed slow, circular patterns against your clit, his grip tightening every time your hips squirmed in anticipation.

Your breathing hitched as he leaned forward, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His touch sent shivers cascading down your spine, and a soft whimper escaped your lips.

“Patience, babe,” he teased, his breath hot against you. “Let me take my time with you.” His mouth trailed higher, each kiss more deliberate than the last, until his lips hovered just above your folds. Your body ached for him, the desire building with every second of his teasing.

When he finally pressed his mouth against them, the sensation felt amazing. A gasp tore from your lips as his tongue moved expertly, his pace unhurried yet devastatingly precise. He licked a slow, deliberate stripes, his tongue flattening against you before flicking upwards, and the soft wet, sounds filled the room.

“Fuck…” you slightly moaned, your hands clutching the sheets as your hips bucked involuntarily.

He chuckled against you, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. “Stay still for me,” he murmured, his voice almost a growl. His hands slid below your thighs linked his fingers together. He pressed his hands into your stomach, firmly holding against the mattress. “I’ve got you.”

His fingers joined afterwhile, one sliding inside you with ease, curling just right to find that perfect spot. The squelching noise that followed was hot, your arousal coating his fingers as he moved them in rhythm with his tongue.

“God, you’re so wet,” he muttered, his tone laced with admiration and desire. “You sound delicious, babe.”

Your head tipped back, a series of breathless moans escaping you as his movements became more insistent. The pace of his fingers, the kisses his mouth left, and the firm grip on your thighs had you trembling beneath him.

“Ekko, I—”

He looked up at you, his chin glistening, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. “You’re not goin’ anywhere until you are begging for me,” he said, his voice full of playful dominance.

Your legs tried to close instinctively at the overwhelming sensation, but his grip tightened, keeping you wide open for him. He pinned your thighs down with a possessive strength, his fingers digging into your thighs just enough to leave marks.

“Uh-uh,” he chided, his voice a mix of amusement and command. “Please stay still.” The wet slurping noises grew louder as he added another finger, the sensation of being stretched and filled making your body arch against his hold. His tongue moved in tandem, swirling and flicking in a way that had you crying out his name.

Your hands flew to his hair, tugging at his locks as the pleasure became almost too much to bear. “Ekko, please, I’m—” You began to push his head deeper into you trying to make yourself come faster.

“Not yet,” he cut you off, his voice dripping with authority. He pressed his fingers deeper inside of you, curling them perfectly as his tongue focused on your clit. "You'll get your chance to come."

Your thighs trembled under his strong grip, the tightness in your core building to an almost unbearable peak. Each movement of his tongue and fingers sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, the wet sounds echoing in the room showing just how completely he had unraveled you.

"Please"" you whimpered, your voice trembling as you teetered on the edge. "I can't-"

"Just a little more," he urged, his pace quickening. You could now hear him slurping all of your juices as you tried to hold it in. His grip on your thighs tightened even further, his nails digging into your thighs as he held you exactly where he wanted you. "I want you come all over my face."

His words were your undoing. With one last stroke of his tongue, the built up tension snapped, and you came undone with a cry of his name. Your body convulsed beneath him, your thighs trembling as he rode out your orgasm, his mouth and fingers relentless in their movements.

The slick, wet noises continued as he worked you through your high, his tongue savoring every last drop of your release. When you finally collapsed back onto the bed, trembling and spent, he pulled away, his lips and chin glistening as he smirked up at you.

"Damn," he said, his voice laced with pride and satisfaction. "You're even louder than I thought you'd be."

You shot him a weak glare, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. "This was too much," you muttered, though the fondness in your tone was undeniable.

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before finally releasing your legs. "You did great," he replied, his eyes warm as he crawled up to join you on the bed.

As he pulled you into his arms, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back, you couldn't help but smile, your heart full and your body still buzzing from the hot feeling of his touch.

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[konigsblog]

Simon Riley is the type to smoke while eating you out. 🚬

“Attagirl, deep breaths f’me.”

The thick and noticeable smell of tobacco and liquor fills your nostrils, your head thrown back at the addictive sensation between your supple thighs. Simon nips your skin with his sharp canines, his head between your thighs, breathing deep into your pussy before rolling his warm, wet tongue over your slick folds. His boner aches inside of the tight confines of his boxers, leaking pre-cum while he devours your soaking, drooling cunt.

He takes long drags from the cigarette held between his two thick, calloused fingers. Your whines mewls cause his dick to harden and twitch, the sound of your pleasure driving him utterly insane. Your sweet, familiar, and comforting taste lingers on his lips, mixed with the taste of alcohol when he presses his lips against yours, scoffing at your desperation and greediness. Simon can't get enough of your lazy, desperate reaction - how drunk you are off of the pleasure and ecstasy. You lay there on his leather couch, in Simon's apartment, grinding back and forth against his face needily.

”There we go, princess. Rock those beautiful hips- Good girl.” The gravelly and hoarse sound of Simon's voice leaves your thighs trembling and shaking, your orgasm inching closer with each stroke he makes with his tongue. Simon can feel as his boxers become sticky and damp with his white fluids as he continues, too addicted to your taste to stop himself. He rubs his hard bulge against the couch, his nose pressed into your pussy while he dips his tongue into your slit, appreciating your sweet, delicious cum on his tongue.

Fuck, Simon could spend the rest of his life between your thighs, smoking a cigarette, and taking proper care of his beautiful girl.

[specsthesecond]

Hate sex with a werewolf would be so hot.

The whole time you're fucking it's so primal and heated. You bite, grab, wrestle, pull and push each other. Snarling the occasional insult in-between heavy moans and frantic breaths.

When he finally thrusts his knot all the way in; your whole body seizes up, you grip his shirt so hard your fingers burn, eyes squeezed shut as a silent scream leaves you.

He grabs your face and presses you further into the mattress, he doesn't have the brain capacity to form actual words in that moment but you know what he wants just from how he's glaring at you.

He wants you to look him in the eyes while he pumps your womb fill, fucking bastard. If you were the type to back down easily you wouldn't be in this situation right now so you accept his challenge with vigor.

You tug harder on his shirt, pulling him down so his face is inches away from yours. You look him in his animalistic eyes as you clench your walls around his fat knot. He snarls out in both pain and pleasure, the need to cum is so overwhelming, his thrusts get sloppy and even more erratic. His hot, heavy breaths mix with your own as you both pant heavily, never breaking the heated eye contact as you both finally climax.

Thrust after thrust, he pumps his hot cum into your cunt. The werewolf above you pants heavily, letting his drool fall to your cheek. You break eye contact to glance at his sharp canines, the same ones that have pierced your skin many times before. He brings his hand to wipe the spit off your cheek, making you look back into his pretty eyes.

Before you can decipher what exactly you see in them, he rolls over bringing you along so that you're lying on his chest.

Now comes the least favourite part of the whole ordeal: waiting for his knot to go down. After the first time, you both tried to separate too early and that ended up hurting both of you and just made him more swollen, meaning it took even longer to deflate.

You hate this part, you really do. Now you're forced to stay as close to each other as physically possible. Forced to feel his breaths even out and hear his heart beat as you lay your head on his chest. Forced to endure the silence that always follows, after all the anger and lust has dissipated and all that's left is calm breathing and the shuffling of sheets.

He's so damn warm, his warmth covers you inside and out. He complains every time about being too hot and sweaty yet doesn't make an effort to push you away from his chest. Likewise, you always complain about the bruises he leaves on your hips but you never slap his hands away when he lightly rubs the sore area.

You're just passing the time until his knot goes down though, totally nothing else happening. Don't even worry about it haha.

˖⋆࣪ ִֶָ☾.*

[opiazapine]

I played tennis in the sun for an hour and go to the bathroom. Oh fck my sunscreen which I hoard bottles of and religiously apply every day finally failed me what in the hell. I'm like red. Purple. I want to end myself. An hour later my skin looks totally normal again. Maybe barely darker but I seriously can't tell or not. This is a recurrent theme in my life