#oceanwater

[proceduralpassion]

send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it.....

"The Glass on Grandma's Table"

This is such a unique title 😭

OK, so walk with me here... Dante Torres seems to have a very close relationship with his mother and I'd be willing to bet he was/is close to his grandmother as well if she's still alive. So I can just imagine him and Kev bonding as partners, getting to know each other and Torres just telling all the stories of him as a little kid and how he used to get in trouble, doing all sorts of mischievous things around the house like drawing on the walls, skateboarding in the house, and yes breaking the glass on abuela's table lol.

I've been loving their friendship/partnership, so I can just imagine them bonding and talking about their childhoods

[soulofherkarmaart]

just simple vintage ocean postcard

[jujuru-blog]

Coastal Glisten, oil and wax on gessobord panel. The glistening and shimmering calm sea inspired this painting. Available at judithrhue.etsy.com and judithrhue.com. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . #seawater #oceanwater #beachhouse #beachside #oceanview #judithrhue #cloudsandsun #seawater #saltyair #saltywater #beachy #beachcottage #traveler #wax #oilandwax #islandlove #islander #noshoes #toesinthesand #relax #peacefulscenery #waterwatereverywhere #glisten #shimmer #tranquilsky #coastaldecor #signedart #homeandliving #decorateyourhome #coastalvibes #coastalhome (at Scottsdale, Arizona) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cnw6gWdpSGB/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[arttreeglobal]

Beautifully Finished Handmade 5 Piece Ocean Canvas Prints Video | Seascape Wall Art | Arttree.com.au

[nizaberry]

It's Tidus and Nori's Birthdays~!

[waterislife8]

[suguwu]

i'm so obsessed with this man.

minors and ageless blogs dni. you will be blocked.

f!reader, reader wears a skirt, reader is referred to as "my dear," established relationship, oral (f! receiving).

you look up at the rustle of cloth.

neuvillette puts down the paper he's been reading and sighs. you tilt your head, unused to such a blatant display from him, but he says nothing. instead, he reaches back and undoes the ribbon that barely keeps his hair at bay, his long, pale fingers loosening it easily.

"do you want me to braid it?" you ask.

he glances up at you and shakes his head. his hair flows with it, an elegant ripple of ivory. "not right now," he says. "thank you, though."

"mhm."

you watch curiously as he gathers his hair up into one strong hand, and a frisson of heat curls through you at the shift of his muscles beneath his billowy shirt, the thin material leaving little to the imagination. you can see each flex of his bicep, the way the lean muscle ripples.

you realize that he's putting his hair into a high ponytail, the colors intermingling like ocean foam, blue and white swirling together.

you must make a noise, because he glances at you once more, another paper in hand, a perfect eyebrow arched.

"are you alright, my dear?"

"yeah," you say, a little bit breathless. "i'm fine."

his brow furrows. "you don't sound fine."

your cheeks heat. "ah. you—um, you normally only put your hair up like that when you're going down on me."

neuvillette goes still. "i see," he says, and the tips of his ears are going faintly pink, until they match the roses he brought you just the other day, the color of the pearly dawn. it rises to his cheeks, too, a sweet flush.

he very carefully puts the paper down.

you fidget in your seat as he gets to his feet. it only takes a few short strides for him to get to the fainting couch. when he holds out a hand, you take it, ever curious.

"i didn't mean to distract you," you say as he guides you to stand up.

"you are always a distraction," he tells you bluntly. "you test my discipline daily."

"neuvillette—"

he catches you in a honeyed kiss, one that sends heat into a slow simmer beneath your skin. it's slow and sweet with a hint of filth at the edge, in the way his tongue slips between your lips and slides against yours.

you press into the kiss, craving more. his lips are cool against yours, but they heat with your movements. when he pulls away from you, they're kiss-swollen.

he dips in for another kiss before you can say anything. it's as slow as the first, a quiet type of worship that you can almost taste on your tongue.

when you part again, a cobweb-thin strand of spit connects the two of you before it snaps. heat settles low in your stomach.

"neuvillette—" you say.

"i will not leave you wanting," he says, and then he slides to the floor in front of you.

it's a heady sight, the chief justice on his knees for you. he gazes up at you with those sharp, keen eyes, his pupils dilated until there's only a thin rim of violet-blue surrounding them. his hair spills down his shoulders as he dips to press a kiss against your clothed cunt.

you can feel it even through your skirts and panties. it should scorch you, you think, but it's cool instead, oceanwater sliding against your skin, a soft, overwhelming touch.

he gathers your skirts up in one hand, crumpling the delicate lace as he pushes it high over your hips. he presses another kiss against the front of your panties. he dips lower to lave his tongue against the damp gusset and you bite down on a sharp inhale.

he keeps at it, until your wetness is indistinguishable from the damp of his saliva, and only then does he peel your panties off and discard them to the side.

you wind a hand into his ponytail as he coaxes your leg over his broad shoulder, opening you to him in a way that makes fire scorch across your cheeks. he takes advantage, leaning in and pressing a kiss against your cunt, his tongue flicking out and brushing over your clit.

a shuddering breath leaves you and he dips down to lick along the length of you. he uses just enough pressure that his tongue spreads the petals of your pussy. when you moan, he traces his tongue over your clit.

the pleasure surges in you, a strike of flint against kindling, the sparks of it building into embers. your fingers tighten in his hair.

he makes a soft noise, a low, sweet groan, and sinks his tongue into you, spearing deep inside. he presses in closer with it, his nose bumping against your clit, and you try to close your legs around his head, barely kept at bay with one strong hand against your thigh.

he's methodical with it, spearing in and out with the thick muscle of his tongue, all while supporting your unsteady form. his nose nudges your clit over and over, until you're bucking your hips against him, sparks skittering along your nerves.

he backs away when your hole clenches around him, pulling back just far enough to take your clit into his mouth. he suckles at it softly, and then harder, until you're gasping with it, fisting at his ponytail and curving over him like a bow.

"neuvillette," you pant, tightening your grip on his hair. "neuvillette, please."

he hums; the vibrations sink into you, melt under your skin to stoke the embers into flames. he gazes up at you over the curve of your belly and sucks hard.

you cry out sharply. the flames roar into a forest fire, scorching down your nerves as you cum against his mouth, your grip on his hair fierce. he drinks you down, keeping you steady against his broad shoulder with a careful hand, and only pulling back when you tug at his ponytail.

he ducks out from between your legs and guides you back against the chaise when you wobble. his lips are shining with your slick; even his cheeks are wet with it.

you glance away.

he pulls you back to face him. when he leans in for a kiss, you don't shy away; you can taste yourself sharp on his tongue.

he kisses you softly, again and again, a little series of quiet, humble prayers at your altar. when he finally pulls away, you pull him onto the chaise with you. you should clean up, but you're still jelly-legged, and neuvillette follows your lead.

he curls up around you as best he can on the chaise. you turn into him and tuck your face into the crook of his neck, still riding the wave of your pleasure as it dies back down to embers.

"i really didn't mean to distract you," you say quietly.

he hums. "i know."

"but i'm glad that i did."

he breathes out a little laugh.

"yes, my dear," he says. "i'm sure that you are."

[synapticconstruction]

Oceanwater Soup 🌊🍲

[avatar-of-the-blank]

the Vast tastes like… Minty gum? but I don’t like mint gum… - Vast avatar

I WAS TRYING TO IMAGINE A FLAVOR THAT RESEMBLED THE TASTE OR AIR FLOODING YOUR MOUTH AS YOU TRY TO SCREAM WHILE FALLING FROM A GREAT, GREAT HEIGHT. 3AM ICE WATER AND MINTY GUM CAME TO MIND

IF YOU WANT YOU CAN IMAGINE YOURSELF AS OCEANWATER! MAYBE WITH PRIMORDIAL PARTICLES IN IT, IF YOU CAN IMAGINE THE FLAVOR OF THOSE!!

[proceduralpassion]

Burgwater, Ruzwater, Oceanwater...

I'm really winning tonight!

[justsescape]

Dumb anime logic, Asuka is filling up the elevator with her boob meat and gut, hotboxing whatever empty space is left with her burps, and Rei is pressed up against the door...

Cause angels or somethin', idk, dont fluster me--

"H-hey, WoooOOOOOURPndergirl, where'd... HYIC-UUUUUUUUUURP!... where'd you go?!"

Asuka filled up the elevator in the same way a milkshake fills up a glass. Her body -- surely well over two-thousand pounds -- was not so much standing in the lift as much as it had been somehow poured in. Flab splayed up against each wall like oceanwater crashing up against the wooden legs of a dock. It was a wonder the weight limit hadn't been reached.

"D-did you... HYIC! HYICK! HYURK!" Asuka's eyelids fluttered with fatigue. Whatever words she managed to get out were consistently prefixed or suffixed by all manner of gas. "BEOOOOOOOOOOUURP-HIC-UUUUUUUUUUUUUUURP!"

The former pilot's flesh rose and fell like sand dunes; hills and valleys, peaks and troughs formed the landscape throughout the confined capacity of the elevator. Her pale, stretch mark-laden skin served as a canvas for condiments, crumpled up wrappers, and food stains. The walls themselves were similarly greasy, caked with sweat and dripping with moisture from being practically drowned in her generous fat. At least, the top half of them were; the lower half of each wall had been completely buried beneath Asuka's lard-ridden body. So, too, was the case for the aforementioned Wondergirl.

"Did yoOOOURP... haaah~... did yoOOOOOOOUUUURP... haaaaaanghh~..." In the dead center of it all was Asuka's head. Sat atop a series of chins that virtually melted into the rest of her, the redhead's once-sharp features had been so distorted with adipose that every facial recognition control in NERV rejected her clearance. "...st-steal myyHYICK-UUUURP!... my food?..."

It took her multiple minutes to get even a single question out. That in itself was a mockery -- but Asuka furthered the absurdity by trying to point a finger. Each of them had grown so thick that the lines that fell between her knuckles flattened against the rest of her bulbous skin. They practically resembled the shape of particularly giant carrots.

"I can... feel yUUUUUUUUUOOOOOORAAAAAAAAAAAAP!... hnnnngNNGMngh~... feel yYHOURK!... f-feel you squirming, HYIC-UUUUUUUUUURP!... you know!"

Belches were so deep, so loud, that they resonated with the metal girders carrying the elevator from one floor to another. And each gaseous expulsion was not only deafening, but unmistakably warm. Rei couldn't see a thing -- she was smooshed against one of the walls like a bug against a windshield -- but she certainly suspected that the air had turned green from Asuka's noxious fumes.

The elevator doors opened slowly, laboriously. The friction that Asuka's bulging lard imposed upon them kept them from going any faster than a snail. Not that anyone could even board the lift, anyway. Asuka's blubber bulged into the corridor like a diver desperate to surface for a breath; it would be a miracle if the door would ever shut again.

As for Rei, she was unlucky enough to be pinned against one of the other walls. She was in for a long ride.

[whispersinthedawn]

Fluttering fireflies 2

“You never said creature wrangling was part of your job description,” the minor god next to Triton announced.

A minor god that Apollo had somehow failed to notice until that very moment, but who Apollo couldn’t take his eyes off once he’d seen him.

The golden ichor beading at his lip, the hair pulled back in a small ponytail at the base of his neck, bare muscular chest liberally coated in black and blue monster blood, and a tail double the length of the god’s torso sparkling iridescently with scales the colour of the inside of an abalone shell – it was like the god was designed to attract attention. And since they were gods capable of shapeshifting, he might as well have been.

“It’s not part of my job description,” Triton announced like the pompous prince he was. “As my guard for this trip, however, it is yours.”

The minor god laughed in incredulity even as he grabbed the arm of a squid, impervious to the sharp suckers on the appendage, and tossed it away in a twist of muscles that made Apollo’s mouth dry out.

He surreptitiously parted his mouth and allowed some of the oceanwater in. Never mind the salt – he desperately needed some hydration, however deceptive.

“You sure are popular,” the unknown god remarked.

Triton brushed the conch shell hanging at his waist with mock humility. “Well, I am the prince of the seas. I carry messages of global importance that could pit the ocean at war if they were to fall into the wrong hands. People are always after me.”

The minor god ignored the blades of the seaweed furtively attempting to encircle him and placed a brave, brave hand on Triton’s shoulder. “You should get a bodyguard,” he advised. “Or a PR team that is better at making friends than you.”

If Apollo could, he would have held his breath. Had this god – minor, unimportant, with no backing but his own wits – not only dared to touch Triton, but also tease him in a manner reserved to family?

“At least I warrant a PR team,” Triton said sardonically, folding his arms. “You haven’t even figured out your own domain.”

The completely brazen god pouted. “But that’s what I have you for, isn’t it? To help me figure out what I’m good at!”

Triton rubbed one of the horns on his forehead in a gesture Apollo recognised from the mirror. That of a much-beleaguered sibling.

“You’re good at getting on people’s nerves,” Triton scolded.

“Now, now,” the new god said with arms raised in placation. “You have to admit. I am quite proficient at destruction as well.”

With only his words as warning, the god swung his tail at the weed and ripped all its blades off. Another swing of his tail, a vertical slash this time instead of the previous horizontal curve, and a rift opened up in the seabed.

An explosion of gases had Apollo looking away for a moment, but by the time he’d managed to create protective upper lids, bubbling lava had replaced the initial explosion.

Triton clapped his hands together. “I know what you can be god of! Sudden underwater volcanic eruptions!”

The other god placed his hands on his hips and raised his eyebrows sceptically. “Isn’t that Hephaestus?”

“You can share,” Triton assured.

They really couldn’t, Apollo knew. But it didn’t matter. The heart in Apollo’s chest that he kept around only for form’s sake had begun beating, keeping pulse with the swings of the other god’s tail.

Swings that swept the waters clear of anyone hoping to approach Triton.

Including Apollo.

But it didn’t matter. Because he’d already seen what he’d come there to.

When he resurfaced beside Artemis’s carriage, it was to find her eyeing him with deep approbation. “No,” she instructed firmly like he was a dog to be brought to heel.

“Yes,” Apollo insisted as he climbed inside the chariot, unrepentantly dripping all over the  fur rug.

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I’m planning,” Apollo protested.

“I don’t need to in order to recognise that look on your face.”

Apollo pouted.

Artemis pressed a hand to her forehead. “Please, just please, don’t make a stalker shrine this time. I am tired of making excuses for my idiot of a brother.”

***

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[shootforthestars-28]

#oceanwater is my new favourite thing! 🤍

[glomlings]

5 separate phone wallpapers of cute and adorable little Glomlings. Enjoy these cute little chibi creatures showing you their art.

download and use as wall paper for your phone✨

[nizaberry]

[angelic-omega]

{Angelic Omega} He/They/It/She

22 Mated Omega (no pups/kits)

Genderfluid/FTM

~Miscefelis White Cat with Pink Beans and one blue eye~

~Miscecanis Dalmatian~

Scent: Vanilla, Rose, Oceanwater, Jasmine seed oil and hints of Eucalyptus, Lemon, and Lavender

Colors: Pastels, White, Tans, and Gold