#sink my claws into queue;;

[shxfting]

“as long as you give it your best shot, who can ask for more?” she asks with a delighted smile. she hopes they all get along. she hopes it’ll be good for howell to have people who understand what it’s like for violence to be written into who you are and they aren’t asking you to change it. “you know, i suppose there’s a chance they’re not both there. lewis tends to wander, but allura stays put.”

"you know sometimes people don't get along well with those who are like them." he doesn't know if he will or not. merrick has sort of kept him away from people like that, probably for good reason, even if it's annoying. "but i am willing to give it my best shot."

[creachercrunch]

there is no force on this earth that could stop me from looping this song rn i am indestructible

[ervotica]

i just saw someone talk about pornstar!patrick and my third eye opened up

shut up i’ll die actually

warnings; smut, 18+, fem!reader, pornstar!patrick, p in v sex, allusions to reader being eaten out, patrick is hot <3

a/n; i’m insane for this actually. pls send more pornstar!patrick asks i’ll beg for them 🥹

this is him <3

thinking of a self made pornstar!patrick, started off making solo videos of him jerking off in the dirty backseat of his car. utterly surprised when viewers couldn’t get enough of him and he earned enough money to make a living off of making porn of himself.

he starts inviting other men, women - anyone who shows interest in him and his videos - to shoot with him, and soon he has a plethora of people lining up for a chance to fuck him, even if it’s on camera.

he bypasses the entire queue when he catches wind of you, a soft little thing with a mean streak he so desperately wants to explore, and he’s running straight to your messages to set a date.

he pays for your transport and your stay — a five star hotel that is far more expensive than anywhere you’ve been in your entire life.

it doesn’t feel orchestrated when the camera starts filming. it doesn’t feel like an act as he works you up with his hot breath over your cunt and two thick fingers that sink into your weeping hole. it doesn’t feel fake when you bury your fingers into his hair and tug, relishing in the way he moans and ruts his hips into the plush bed beneath you.

and it certainly doesn’t feel fake when he makes you cum harder than you ever have before.

his viewers all envy you, want to be you, when he folds your legs to your chest and feeds you his cock inch by inch. it’s a tight fit, that’s for sure, but you’ve never felt more full, more stretched in your life, and you fucking love it.

the way the head of his cock, a visceral red, notches against your entrance as he sinks in in in, further than you thought possible until the weeping slit burrows against your cervix, the way you keen and clutch at his shoulders as he murmurs praises because you’re being so good, baby, just a little more now.

he’s barely one thrust in before you’re cumming around him with a shudder and a cry, and it’s stronger than anything you’ve ever felt in your life, so easy the way he takes you apart because he’s already memorised your cunt, already knows how to fuck it.

and he’s hooking his arms beneath the dip of your spine, dragging you up to meet his hot mouth in a greedy kiss, all tongues and teeth and fire and passion, and that paired with the way he’s fucking you - the filthy roll of his hips that never slows, never stops - is enough to have you cumming round him again.

he fucks like he’s in love with you and he hates you all at once, spears you open on his cock and keeps you spread out beneath him, teases and taunts until you growl with frustration and claw at him. it makes him laugh, a low, gravelly sound against your lips as he concedes and pistons his hips into you with more fervour than before.

once you’re well and truly fucked out, you crawl between his legs and wrap your mouth around him, and he’s sure he meets god.

and then the camera comes off, and a switch flips in him as he watches you laying on the bed, breathing heavily, eyes closed, a sleepy smile on your face.

patrick zweig might just be in love.

the video skyrockets in views and profits, climbing straight to the most popular he’s ever made. viewers beg him to keep you as a permanent fixture within his channel. and, well, who would he be if he didn’t give the people what they want?

-

challengers taglist; @diorrfairy @igotmajordaddyissues @xotwod-jade @imbabycowboy @cloudnitee @hobocatton

[latinare]

This is a really vague question maybe you have some insight on.

I'm monolingual; I very casually study Spanish, ie duolingo, very slowly reading Harry Potter in translation, bantering with my mexican coworkers, etc, but I'm barely past where I was ten years ago in college. My grandparents native language was Sicilian, and so that's really been the dream to someday learn Italian. But for where I live, Spanish is a very practical language, and Italian really isn't. I'm scared to stop the small amount of Spanish study that I currently do and lose it, but at the same time it's not my ultimate goal. There are really only so many hours in the day.

How much Spanish do I need to learn before I can put it to bed and start clawing my way through Italian? Can you think of any benchmark I could use? I realize it's not an either/or situation, but I was hoping you might have some advice as someone whose language journey seems to be much more advanced that my own.

Thanks for your time and any thoughts you might have!

This is a good question and I think one all language-learners struggle with. I don't know that there's one good answer, but I have a few thoughts that may or may not be helpful.

When you study something, even if you have to set it aside at some point, you don't lose it completely. The next time you pick it up, it's easier and quicker to get back to where you were. It's okay to study cyclically.

You can study things in the cracks of your day. I have Latin vocab pinned above the sink to learn when I'm washing dishes, and I translate posts for this blog while I'm nursing my baby. I read Geoffrey of Monmouth when I have ten free minutes and feel like it. It doesn't look like enough time to study a language, but it adds up.

Studying a second language in the same family can be fascinating because they share cognates (cousin words) and grammar elements. Digging into this can deepen your understanding of both. (Sicilian and Spanish are both from the Romance branch of the Indo-European language family.)

Finding a way to work a little Spanish into your week may help you retain what you've already learned. (Maybe leave Harry Potter in your backpack to read when you're in a queue or waiting room?)

One of my personal language-learning benchmarks is being able to understand spoken humour, so I'd contest that bantering with coworkers in Spanish makes you more than monolingual. :)

Ugh, I feel like I'm not saying much that's concrete. I really hope you get to study Sicilian though! Best of luck with both, and any future linguistic endeavours too!

[shxfting]

carys nods. it had seemed like he was at the start of the conversation, but she has to remind herself that fiacre doesn’t know her and it was probably more fact finding than accusatorial. “it is some comfort. a bit unfortunate that i’ll still have babysitters, but nothing i’m not used to.”

"i see." it's not a struggle fiacre has personally experienced. anyone who knows enough to recognize a nyx on sight knows not to fuck with him. but he's seen his friends be underestimated before. "jinx is nice, and no less capable for it. if it is of any comfort, at least the three of us will not underestimate you."

[mylovesstuffs]

Entry #4

29.01.2025 - 23:41

Everything went wrong today. My heart feels so weak, so heavy, as if it's sinking under the weight of everything I have to do. I'm drowning in assignments, buried under endless writing projects, and the stress is clawing at me from every direction. I told myself to push through, to manage it all, but then of course life had to throw another punch.

I was working on a requested reaction, pouring my time and energy into it, and I was so close to finishing—98% done. Only Dino’s part left. Just a few more lines, and it would have been complete. But then, as if the universe was testing me, I got a work call. I couldn’t ignore it, so I left my draft, trusting that I’d come back and finish it soon. Fast forward four hours later, I return, expecting to pick up where I left off… but it’s gone. Gone. Not saved, not recoverable, just vanished into thin air. The feeling of seeing that empty page was like having the floor ripped out from under me. I felt crushed. Completely, utterly devastated. The frustration, the exhaustion, the sheer defeat of having to rewrite something I had already poured my emotions into—it hit me like a wave. But I refused to let it break me. Through sheer determination (and probably a little bit of madness), I forced myself to sit down and rewrite the entire thing. Every word, every reaction, all over again. And when I finally finished, I felt relief, even pride. I did it. Despite everything, I didn't let the setback win. But before I could even take a deep breath, I noticed something felt off. Something was missing. I checked my queue list, scrolling frantically, my heart pounding. Where was it? Where was that one scheduled post? My mind raced with worst-case scenarios. Please don’t tell me it got deleted. Please, no. I swear, if it had been erased, I would’ve deleted Tumblr and my entire account right then and there. That’s how thin my patience was today—that’s how close I was to snapping. And then I saw it. Not one. But two posts had gone out today—posts that were meant for other days. Days that I had planned for, scheduled for, balanced my entire content calendar around. But now, those days are empty, and I’m left scrambling to figure out what to do. What do I post then? What do I do now? All that careful planning, completely derailed.

My heart feels so crashed. There’s no better way to describe it. It’s not just frustration—it’s that deep, aching disappointment when you try so hard to hold everything together, only for the universe to come along and shove everything out of place. I don’t even know what to do atp. I’m exhausted, stressed, and just… tired. I did my best today, but it feels like nothing wanted to go right. Now, all I can do is pick up the pieces and try again tomorrow. But right now, I just need a moment to breathe.

[brazenlystrong]

❛ i want to sink my teeth into every inch of you. ❜ ( from The Hated Wife )

darker vibes // @koseigu

Behind closed doors there is a change in façade, in the way the atmosphere carries both tension and excitement. The knee-deep silence at the beginning prompts all kinds of thoughts to flood in Satoru’s mind. His Six Eyes inform him that they’re isolated from the others at a fair distance. If he pushes off a vase and it causes a noise it likely won’t be heard. That kind of a distance.

A yawn elicits his mouth as his long lithe fingers come in front of it, his warm breath meeting his palm. Is he yawning because he’s bored or because his body is looking for a way to calm this eagerness? Who knows. Either way, he’s planning to make his first move.

Cerulean gaze is drinking in Sukuna’s side profile until he’s finally met with these piercing blood-dipped eyes. It’s as though he’s read his mind. There’s no way he won’t stir up trouble when they’re alone. That’s Satoru’s queue to have fun. Conceit plays in the playful arch of up-tuned shell-pink lips as a low hum is sounded past them.

He doesn’t just stand and have Sukuna guess what he is scheming, and just goes for the kill. A habit he’s never dropped since high school. A fist swipes across but misses, so he withdraws by teleporting around and behind his equally daredevil partner. And eventually, limbs become intertwined through well-calculated punches and kicks. Satoru lets Sukuna bypass Infinity only so he can grab onto his hand, his fingers sinking into the back of it akin to claws. He draws in until the tips of their noses would brush. Hunger. Smoldering passion dances inside the swirl of infinite blue in glowing irises. A cheeky grin is plastered over Satoru’s face. His other hand grabs and clutches onto the fabric of Sukuna’s shirt. And then a wave of warmth washes over him. Is it the adrenaline? Is it from their shared body heat? He’d rather confirm than question. His leg is swiftly positioned between Sukuna’s thighs. Just one push away from disaster— and Satoru would give Sukuna the choice what it to be.

He should’ve taken off his jacket. The temperature is high and his racing heart is pumping hot blood, only increasing the heat.

His fingers press painfully into the back of Sukuna’s hand once more, practically squeezing tightly. The next statement has him quirk an eyebrow and his smirk only deepens.

“ That so? ” He raises his knee just enough for even the slightest friction. “ Show me your teeth then. ”

[voxofthevoid]

5, 16 and 29 please?

For you, always 😘

5 has been answered (can't link because this is going into the queue, but you can find it in the "ask game" tag)

16. What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

There's a good chance my current WIP, taking the flesh is the only virtue (an alpha/beta/omega threesome fic), will stretch into January. The dickfest fic I stopped to write an angsty non-fix it will definitely follow me into 2024. Those are my only current WIPs since I've mostly stopped my hopping habit.

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

This has been asked a few times, but I'm picking one for each because I really can't choose—or remember 😂

Sukuna is a consumption, and those first few fingers had him trying to lay siege to Yuuji’s soul. Satoru’s cursed energy is no less hungry, but it’s not trying to eat through Yuuji. It still wants inside of him. There’s something coaxing about it, like something great and monstrous is making itself sweet and pitiful to paw at Yuuji’s door and beg to be let in. Sukuna tried and failed to batter down the door; for Satoru, Yuuji himself tugs it open. It gentles on its way into him. Yuuji can feel it in his flesh, seeping through open wounds to settle in blood and flesh and bone. But deeper, in places hands can’t touch, it’s an oil spill of electrifying heat. Yuuji wants to sink his claws into his chest, digging through meat and bone to just touch that power.

From (let me be clear) every version of the story ends with you being slaughtered, my little demon child.

[auspicetaker]

hi tumlr

my queue ran out and i’ve been too busy playing TotK to update it. i’ve been doing some personal writing today that’s probably not interesting to anyone else, but i’m putting it under the cut if you’re interested in reading me complaining about all my life problems and not doing anything to solve them.

5/31/2023

What’s my problem? Well…

… I’ve been bleeding continuously for months, maybe years. I’ve lost track. I’m on hormonal birth control to manage my brutal PMS symptoms (debilitating cramps, migraines so bad I can’t stand up, hellacious mood swings) but now I’m just on a low-grade period forever. Not sure what’s worse - the whiplash of the highs and lows of the natural cycle, or being stuck somewhere in the cycle eternally, not up or down, just blood and tissue leaking out of me day in and day out for months and months on end.

… I’ve been wishing to get on T for some time now. I want the facial and body hair, the husky voice, increased muscle mass, new stinky boy smells, a roughening of my too-delicate facial features. However, getting gender-affirming healthcare, even in a trans-friendly blue state like mine, is no small undertaking. Everywhere I’ve called is either not accepting new patients or has a prohibitively long waitlist. I have an appointment with an endocrinologist in a few months, but since he’s just a straight-world endocrinologist, not someone specialized in these things, I am extremely apprehensive he’ll just shut me down. It’s happened before. The T feels like a new avenue to pursue to deal with my endless, miserable bleeding, some different exogenous hormones instead of the estrogen I’ve been taking. It feels like a small glimmer of hope, so obviously I am already prepared to never get it, to have it be taken away if I do get it, or for it to not work out like I imagined. 

… My job is falling apart at the seams. My colleague who was my greatest support was taken away from me about a month ago, unceremoniously laid off due to financial issues (concerning) and I’ve been floundering ever since. I made so much progress with my self-loathing and avoidance around work stuff, and it feels like I’ve taken eight steps back. No, not even that I took the eight steps myself, it’s like I was picked up by a giant claw and thrown all the way back to a more dysfunctional self. I had something good going, it felt tolerable, and now I am floundering, trapped with my stupid boss on his sinking ship. 

… I need to work on my resumé, apply to other stuff. I have always hated job hunting. It is a particularly odious form of the sort of normal-person lying and deception that is necessary for survival in our society. Creating a version of myself that’s palatable to prospective employers, then scraping, bowing, and doing little dances to try and get their approval or consideration… it makes me sick. Part of what was so great about getting this job was that I don’t even think I ever gave my boss a resumé. He already knew me and I was able to just use that goodwill and prior record to pirouette into this current role. Which in retrospect may have been kind of a red flag.

… My mental health has taken a bit of a nosedive in these past few months. Part of it is that I’m tapering off of the antidepressants that I’d been taking for my entire adult life. I was doing okay, but there’s been a few stumbling blocks in a row and things are tough, now. Things I thought I was doing better with (self harm and suicidal ideation) are back in a big way. I’ve accepted that I’ll struggle for a while, maybe forever, but it’s a price I’m willing to pay for the return of my full range of emotions. Long-term SSRI use leaves you in a state of not-depression but also not-happiness. You don’t experience pleasure so much as you experience the absence of pain. For me, at least, I also experienced a profound dulling of what little creative impulses I had. On that front, tapering down SSRI’s has been revelatory - I feel like I’ve unlocked a long-buried self who desires to write and make art, who has aesthetic visions and preferences. I’m collaging again, making art in my journal, learning to make digital art on a tablet, creating wall collages in my room. It doesn’t feel like something new, it feels like something very old that I lost and am finally returning to. All this to say that I’ll take an uptick in my brain screaming for blood and death (god knows I experienced that already on my full dose of SSRI’s) to get a shred of that old self back, to feel the joy and thrill of creation again. 

… Speaking of aesthetics, I’m so fucking sick and tired of all my clothes. I want something new but I don’t know exactly what. I’m tired of the black-and-green color scheme I’ve been rocking for the past 5 years. I’m tired of the skinny leg silhouettes and the too-small band tees. Again, I don’t know what I’d replace this all with. Shopping takes time and money, and I have little of either. In-person shopping is a sensorily draining and overwhelming experience, and online shopping leaves me either paralyzed with indecision or, worse, pulling the trigger impulsively and then wracked with regret. I have made a few stabs here and there towards a new personal aesthetic, getting colorful, oversized new button-down shirts, for example, but it’s slow going, and in the meantime I’m left with what I already have. And I’m so, so sick of it all.

… My house and my room are in a state of flux. My roommate is moving out, and my girlfriend is moving in. I’m sad to leave my roommate (nine years cohabitating!), apprehensive of change, but mostly excited. It’ll be incredible to have my girlfriend by my side all the time. That’s a dream. There are many, many nasty and frustrating corners of my room I keep saying I’ll deal with, and the clock is running out. My closet is a mess, my storage areas are inefficient and cluttered, and I simply cannot seem to get it together enough to do anything about any of it. Additionally, I decided I’d redo the peeling bathroom paint myself, even though we’re renting and it should be my landlord’s job, and it’s taking forever. I have very limited time and resources to deal with the many stages of scraping, stripping, sanding, spackling, priming, and repainting. The bathroom is currently in the “scraped and stripped” stage, but not yet in the “sanded, spackled, primed, and painted” stage, and it looks absolutely terrible. I feel stupid, panicked, overwhelmed just thinking about it. I’ve painted myself (ha ha)  into a corner and I just have to keep going, despite the fact that I never want to look at the fucking bathroom ever again, at this point. 

… There are other things that are necessary to my survival and health that I’ve been avoiding dealing with, or just haven’t had the resources to deal with. I’ve needed new glasses for months now but can’t seem to make myself do anything about it. It takes a Herculean effort just to go to work, cook food, do the dishes, and do my laundry, so higher-level tasks like “writing a resume” or “shopping for new jeans” or “making a necessary medical appointment” just keep getting pushed off for later. And later never comes. 

[browneyesandhair]

Hey! It's ya girl! August Edition

I got no chill and a large obsession with a lot of things. So this year, I'm tracking it! Okay, so this year, is the year of recs! (you may have seen some of my posts, but I also have an extensive queue, so maybe not (check out the #recs on my page)). Very late as I was on vacation, still we persist.

Anyways, I've created a collection for this year overall and then also for each month! Let's check out August's stats -

Works read (&finished): 93

Fandoms (top 8):

Harry Potter: 53

The Vampire Diaries: 11

Avatar: 6

Percy Jackson: 4

Teen Wolf: 4

Bridgerton: 4

Merlin: 3

DC: 2

The rest didn't make the first drop down section of AO3, so oh well! Let's check in on relationships (top 8):

Harmony: 10

Klaroline: 10

Dramione: 9

Tomione: 9

Drarry: 5

Jily: 5

Polin: 4

Percabeth: 4

There were 5 fics that were reread / added to my recs list this month:

Bridgerton:

Plenty Far To Fall by useyourtelescope

Summary:

When financial troubles mean third-son Colin Bridgerton must cease his yearly travels and find employment instead, he has difficulty finding something suitable. Until he learns of a unique position being offered by the notorious gossip columnist Lady Whistledown.

DC:

Banshee In A Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee)

Summary:

Tim is five years old when he drowns in his parents' pool. He dies quietly, waiting for parents who love him, but will never be there, to realise that something is wrong. They never show up, and he sinks into oblivion. When he wakes up and claws his way out of the water, the sun has set, and the lights of his house are on. He is cold and wet and his lungs burn. But most of all, Tim is alone. (If you die and no-one is there to see it, were you ever alive in the first place?)

Avatar:

Returned for a Better Try (to Make a Better Time) by atypicalhypocrite

Summary:

The Fire Lord’s blast is sharp and thorough. Still on his knees before his father, a thirteen year old dies instantly. Another Zuko, once teacher to the avatar and a Fire Lord himself, jolts into being in his place, and deals with the consequences. Timeline preservation nothing, he’s going to be a better Fire Lord this time, and start sooner.

Pride comes before by KingLilith

Summary:

Zuko spins in his bed, and somehow keeps spinning until his feet hit the floor. There is a sudden dizziness and heavy feeling blanketing him, like the tail-end of a heavy cold, and he feels a strip of fabric fall off his shoulders. It feels strangely like an Agni Kai shawl, he thinks disoriented as he tries to get his bearings again. In which an older Zuko is transported to the first Agni Kai he ever fought.

Harry Potter:

House Proud by astolat

Summary:

His house liked Draco Malfoy more than him.

Alright, that's all folks (mostly), for fun, here are the top 8 additional tags from the stories that I read in August:

Alternate Universe: 17

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence: 16

Fluff: 10

Post-War: 8

Explicit Sexual Content: 8

Smut: 7

Romance: 5

Angst: 5

And, that's all folks (for real this time)!

[cor-onus-grave-est]

I'll title this laterrrr p2/3

Pt 1/3

Pt 3/3

Sergei didn't get a chance to order from the bartender. Mixologists were busy fulfilling a long list of previous orders. The queue kept adding up, making the orders a long wait. His phone buzzes in his front pocket. A swift swipe and his hand held the black screen in front of him. It lights up. 

'[Yura:] Sergei, I ran out of cigarettes. Can you get me a fresh pack from the car.'

'[Text:] Of course. Be right there.'

He jumps off the barstool and delightfully marches to the parking lot. The new moon blankets the outside world in darkness, leaving the streetlights to provide little islands of clarity. He strolls towards Yura's luxury SUV, unlocks it thanks to Yura's spare key, and opens the passenger side door. Hands shuffle around the center console, but only a spare pair of sunglasses, 2-3 empty lighters, and a large gaudy ring was found. No cigarette pack. He reaches over and opens the glove compartment. A few papers and letters, a small pack of napkins and hand sanitizer. Still, no cigarettes.  

He didn't see any other places Yura would keep them, so he gave Yura a call. The smartphone is held against his ear while it rings as scans the rest of the SUV. 

"..." 

The phone picks up. "Привет. Sergei Да?"

"Yura. I can't find any spare cigarette boxes. Are you sure you packed any?" Sergei peers under the passenger's seat. "I checked everywhere...well, everywhere but the trunk."

"Try the trunk. I left my knapsack there. Check in the front pocket."

"Ok." He closes the passenger side door. A loud thud and click echoes through the lot. He marches over to the trunk and opens it. The zipper from his backpack rips open, loud enough for the phone to capture it. "Oh I see it. It's ri- AHH!! Fuck! Yu-!" The phone drops to the ground. Loud plastic hard thuds bombard the mic. Once the noise settles, a struggle fills the phone. Abrupt blood curdling screams emanate from Sergei's end. Repeated high pitch hysterical yells blow through the phone's speaker.

By now Yura was sitting in the VIP room enjoying one of the leather seats. He was nestled into the couch when he heard the tussel. He jumps up, both leather shoes on the ground. 

"Sergei?...Sergei!! What's going on!..." Yura hastily runs out of the bar, keeping the phone to his ear until he reaches the exit. Panic begins to settle into his veins, and his heart pounds against his chest. 

His eyes widen, pupils shrink as he processes the scene. Sergei's chilling wails assault his ears. 

"Sergei!!" He cries, distressed and trembling. His phone falls to the ground and he runs to his car. Yura's stomach coils tightly, a cranked toy unable to turn anymore. 

He witnesses a 6ft man stabbing Sergei with his knife. The blade is wet, dripping in his best friend's blood. The moment a fresh coat of paint slides off the blade, it returns to sink its sharp edge into Sergei's flesh. The unsettling squelching injects into Yura's ears.

Yura lunges at Sergei's attacker, however, arms stop Yura from pursuing him. Another stranger pulls him away from Sergei, keeping him in a choke hold. 

"Sergei!!" He calls out in helpless terror. "Get-...Get off me!! Солнце!!" 

A third, then a fourth accomplice enters the scene. One of them rushes the assailant gripping Yura. "Hurry up. Kill the blondie too."

Sergei drops to the floor by the one of the rear wheels. The onslaught of stabs continue. This time on Sergei's legs.  His primal visceral screams quiet down. A muddled bubbly whisper between his shallow breaths escapes his mouth. "Yu....ra...." 

Yura claws over the arm that is choking him. A fire surges through him. An overwhelming power becomes unrestrained. Rational thinking is pushed to the wayside. The urge to destroy all that was nearby becomes all consuming. He screams deep from within his lungs, the outburst catching the attention from everyone at the bar. Even over the music. This prompts more people to rush into the alteration, turning them all into accidental targets. 4 more men join in the brawl, this time in an attempt to defend Sergei. 

Yura's vision goes black. "Anatoly!!" He demands at the top of his lungs. 

Zubov's curse appears. It looks over the struggling pair. "Yes Yura? Wassup? Looks like you got in a bit of a fickle heheh" 

A slow, chilling, deliberate cadence flavors his command. "Kill them. Kill them all." 

"Say no more." Anatoly grins from ear to ear. Despite the gratifying joyous moment it was to finally kill again, Anatoly complains. "Ahh it only took you so long. No more watching. Better late than ever I guess! Oo you there? Whatcha up to?"  

Anatoly increases in size, giving it the opportunity to cover more ground. It takes its hand and wraps it around Yura's assailant, then crushes him. Blood and brain splatter onto Yura's hair, and the arm constricting his airways abruptly loosens and falls. The first bodily thud of the night. 

Anatoly grabs another person, snaps them by the neck and tosses him beside Sergei. Next crushes Sergei's assailant with its palm, mixing Sergei's blood with the attacker's. 

As Anatoly raises the death count, Yura's palm lifts out in front of him. It reacts on its own accord, and tethers its strings to the morbid remains surrounding him. Corpses animate at Yura's command and begin fighting in his place. The knife used to stab Sergei is now a weapon for the unintended recipients by the undead. For every new corpse, there was a new enemy for the other party. The barbaric night continued until there was no one but Yura left standing; with Sergei by his feet. 

The fight ended unexpectedly quickly. Yura's abilities along with Anatoly by his side proved that numbers are not enough for regular people to win. Yura was blessed with powers along with the family curse. A power that his father thought Yura should use mercilessly. 

In a questionable coincidence, Yura's father strolls by Yura after the brawl. His footsteps are recognizable, avoiding all alarms for Yura's heightened sense of danger, although his skepticism was raising a meek but noticeable flag....

[shxfting]

“now that i’ve thought it through more, i think you might be right. though, i really think mei is the biggest concern. she gets politics, but she tends to be a feelings first sort of girl. not that she’s going to start anything.” belle just hopes they never, ever have to find out. things are so intertwined between their courts, it’d be awfully messy. she thinks the question over. “for me, probably better. this way i won’t have to worry about reteaching you anything that someone else taught you differently.” she can’t quite say wrong because it’s not completely true since everyone has different styles, but she does tend to believe she does things the best way.

he smiles, glad she's willing to play along, even when she can't directly lie about it. but he knows well that the fae don't have to be able to lie to be deceitful. "yeah, i don't think there's going to be a political incident, but if there is one, i think calix and mei are more likely to cause it than fiadh and aster." he doesn't want to even think about that potential mess. he follows as she leads the way. "is it better or worse that the answer is nothing?"

[kusunokihimea]

[ @kyuuzuchiha ] [ Starter Call ]

     Rubbing at a tired muscle in her neck, Ryū makes her way out the back door of the club, lights off and music silent. There’s a weary ache in her body after a night of dancing, but she’s finally reached her two days off. And she’s gonna splurge and take a nice, long, hot bath when she gets back to her apartment.

     That is...if she makes it back.

     Coming up short at a pair of men at the mouth of the alley - clearly humans, judging by their smell - Ryū tenses. So much for having time to Shift and take to the air to avoid the roads. She can’t go back in - the door’s locked behind her, and there’s nowhere else to go. Panic flares in her veins, longing to flee skyward...but knowing she can’t reveal her second self to anyone not also a Nightwalker.

     But by whatever grace, a voice sound behind them, curt and commanding, drawing their gazes. One of the humans asks who they are, and what their business is. Ryū just prays they’ll be enough to break this up...whoever, and whatever, they are.

[tteokdoroki]

🦭—SIGHS deku being so heavy that when u squirt he can't be pushed out so he just sinks deeper with soft grumbles ): massages his hips into yours as u knead at the mattress )): I JUST THINK HES NEAT,,

i’m howling actually. he is so neat!!!! mdni.

“d-deku!” you’re gasping, high pitched and whiney with your lungs desperate for breath. they expand wide between your rib cage and the mattress your boyfriend has you pressed into— all of his weight, heavy over you and his chest sticky against your back. “‘m gonna…gonna— oh fuck, baby! gonna make me cum.”

deku laughs, his warm breath tingling gently against the shell of your ear— contrasting with the force behind each of his calculated thrusts, slender hips lunging forward to push his fat cock deeper along your soaked squishy walls, “uhuh, you close, angel? can tell with how your greedy little pussy clenches around me,” as if in queue, his seedy, blistering tip nudges new pleasure spots along the ridges of your insides— making you seize up and ripple around the stretch of izuku’s girth. he chokes on a moan that sends dopamine crackling across your brain, licks predatory stripe from your neck to just behind your ear and curses when you cry out his name again. “keep that ass up for me, throw it back on me a little bit, baby. just so i can fuck you better.”

you do your best to lift your hips from underneath deku, shuddering at how his luscious green hair tickles your shoulders from behind and he quickly slips a pillow under your bruised hips to keep you arched how he wants. the new angle has your cunt squelching with lewd suction noises every time izuku pushes into you, and his rough fingers slip between your mess of sweaty and arousal stained limbs to fumble with your swollen clit as blood rushes to it. you barely have any room to breathe between the way deku fucks you and the way he touches you— treading on the thin line of euphoria and losing your sanity.

“be a good girl, be my pretty little girl and cum f’me,” he slurs against your skin, practically drooling as his heavy length hits deep and churns up your insides— cockhead never letting up on your abused g-spot. “that’s it, make a mess for me. god, fuck.”

“i can’t, can’t. i-izu-!” clawing at the sheets, your tiny mewls become louder, heftier and fill the room with their song combined with the wet slaps of skin on skin and bed creaking beneath the weight of sex. you let your head fall back against deku’s freckled shoulder, mouth hanging wide open when your orgasm washes over you in a wave that threatens to drown you. the knot in your stomach unravels way too quickly, and you gush clear streams of your arousal straight from your mound.

“fuck, you’re squirting,” deku sounds elated, drawing wide and fast circles on your clit, never letting up with his thrusts no matter how much you squirt because he’s just so thick, so heavy that all his cock does is plug you full. “that’s it baby, lemme see you fall apart on me. uhhuh, you like that?” cooing condescendingly, he only slips deeper inside the heat of your puffy pussy as clear streams of arousal bathe his cock, your entrance clinging to every vein on his shaft.

he leaves you a drooling twitching mess against the crushed sheets, pressing his hips flat against your ass to grind into you in slow circles. “wan’ you to cum baby, please izuku. cum inside me, please.” you beg, hiccuping and twisting the duvet between your shaky fingers. you squeal as deku picks up the pace, your arousal splashing against his tummy and pelvis, fat drops of it running down the insides of your thighs.

“take it baby, all of it,” the last spurt of his energy is used to fuck you until he creams your cunt, filling you up with his thick seed and grinding in you until he’s sure it takes. the pro hero collapses onto you, kisses pressed across your back before he leans up to whisper.

“let’s try that again, shall we? have you squirt while my cock’s deep, deep inside you, huh angel?”

[opiumkitten]

And Nothing Can go Wrong... OH NO IT ALL WENT WRONG

Hey everyone! I'm back and my writer's block is gone. I wanted to write something cause this is by far my favorite audio lol So here's my vanilla rendition of it! I hope you enjoy

Word Count: 2189

The Collection

MINORS DNI MINORS DNI MINORS DNI

Warning: Smut, nothing really wholesome, just sex.

A hungry, breathless melody reverberated around the room. You looked over to the setting sun before feeling his hand crank down on your waist. Of course the big oaf didn't wanna let go, he wasn't done. He was almost shaking, holding back just trying to give you a break. You wondered how long Itto would be this nice to you. The warmth started to drum up again, and almost on queue, Itto pulled you up his body. Those amber eyes were in a sparkling haze, moaning as your lips met. The only thought in his head was you, every curve, every edge, your voice, the way you trembled for him.

It wasn't enough.

"I'll be late." You whined into his lips, feeling his hands rub down your back to squeeze your ass.

"I know..just...one more baby." You almost felt bad for him, seeing the desperation in his eyes as he undulated beneath you.

"You said that twice now, Itto..."

"I know, but I just..Please. Please Y/N..."

Itto watched you lean up, trailing his eyes down you're beautiful frame till it landed right where you hand had been. You stroked him slowly, making him still as he hissed. Your paws were so small around him, hell, you were small around him. His hands dwarfed your waist, his thumbs overlapping as he held you steady-

A greedy moan escaped him, snapping his eyes back to you using your soaked folds to tease his sensitive head.

You weren't trying to tease him, but getting him to fit was a task, one that had you panting to get his cockhead to finally catch-

You gasped, already feeling the stretch as you shuddered before bracing onto his chest. You took your time, lifting and using your weight to sink every inch of him inside you. You were already so swollen, and so full, your mind couldn't focus on doing anything else as he throbbed inside you. Tears began welling as you trembled, feeling him lose patience when his hips bucked involuntarily.

"Princess, fuck. You're...so..."

His words trailed off as his juts turned into full thrusts, his pace picking up as your head fell back. In almost an instant, he brutally worked you, gripping your waist hard as he fixated on where you were connected. How you felt so good, were so tiny, and took him so well only made him bully your cunt harder, making sure every inch was covered in your slick. His fangs sank into your swollen nipple before binding you wrists, using the angle to get you closer and deeper.

You looked down, meeting his darkened gaze to nothing but carnal lust. He will breed you. Again. Just like every time. You should've known he wouldn't have let you get away so easily.

But you know that if you stopped him, you'd deal with worse once you got home, and that's if you were able to get away from him now. How the hell did you get here? You definitely aren't making it to your hangout at Uyuu-tei, being far too late and way too worked out to walk. He promised only a quickie, a 1 rounder; but when you came 3 times before he could, you knew you made a mistake. By the time he came, he'd already snapped, and after that there was no getting through to him till he fucked himself stupid and shot blanks.

His deep growl made the knot in your stomach tighter, his fangs leaving yet another hickey on your throat as he dug his claws into your scalp.

"More...cum for me...more.."

He wasn't begging like before. He wasn't asking you either. Itto was fully entranced by your perfect little flower. How your dew coated him, how his name left your lips, how you whimpered and begged for him. His mind was melting down your thighs, soaking the bedsheets beneath you.

Your voice was too hoarse to scream, whimpering as a stronger headrush ran through you as you came together. You never grew tired of feeling his barbs catch on your sensitive walls to shoot his thick seed inside you. And you loved the feeling, even if it was dangerous. Itto reassured you that you wouldn't get pregnant unless he was in rut, but it still made you uneasy with how much he needed to release.

Remembering back when you two first started dating, Itto was nothing like this. And this is considered "Nice Itto," now.

No, back then, Itto would never be so rough.

He whimpered, digging into the sheets instead of your hips and ass.

"Ar-Archons-! Y/N! Oh fuck!"

His lips were a swollen cherry red as he bit into them instead of lionizing your tender neck and shoulders, eyes clenched shut as his head kicked back while you rode him.

You took your time, letting his thick member stretch you luxuriously while your velvety walls hugged him in the slow delicious hell that was your pace.

Now, Itto would tackle you to the bed and let his body do as it desires, ruining you both.

But this Itto?

He'd never do that. He thinks he's too big for you, too thick. And if he let his instincts take over he'd hurt you. He'd leave every hole you have full of his cum, swollen and aching. There wouldn't be any reason for you to leave if you were too tired and sore to walk anywhere, right?  You'd be pretty, all fucked out and delirious, passing out after he was finished with you.

Just the thought of you prancing around, heady with his scent nearly made him-

"I-Itto?!"

His eyes snapped open to his hands gripping your waist hard, fucking up into you roughly.

"Shit,Y/N-!"

"DON'T Stop!"

Itto watched as hearts danced in your eyes.

You wanted him to do this harder?

Were you sure?

"Please-! Don't you fucking-!" Your cute little squeal as he obliged had you squeezing him delightfully, making him whisper out a fuck as he tried keeping his composure. This was a bad idea, fucking you like this. Your hips clashing made such a perfect sound, his very full balls slapping against your ass was a blessing he'd never get tired of.

Pulling him to your lips, you all but fucked yourself stupid to his newly matched pace.

You'd been waiting for his control to slip. And seeing it in action as those pretty amber eyes went from desperation to tempted beast, he took you down to the bed, pinned you into a tight mating press before fucking you the deepest he could.

Itto’s head kicked back, fuck this was the best worst idea he'd ever had.

Tears welled in your eyes from the immense pleasure, tinges of pain clipping you as his cockhead pulverized your g-spot. You felt so good, Itto couldn't get enough. He didn't think you could feel even better, but as his hands slipped down to your ass, he growled deeply as his fangs scraped against your neck. Pressing you up into him, Itto fucked down into your leaky hole, making you stutter his name as he whispered incoherently.

You screamed as his fucking turned into bullying, holding on as he buried his mind in the far corners of your warm, wet womb for safe keeping.

He didn't need it now, wouldn't for the next few hours.

"Itto-! Itto! Cumming!" Your vision was shot, couldn't see how the drool trailed down his chin as he watched you. You were so defenseless, so weak in this moment.

With how you begged...he could tear into your little cunt, and you'd love it.

So... that’s what he did.

This idea couldn't get any worse... right?

You had never seen Itto lose control. Maybe it was because he was close to his rut. Or maybe because your teasing finally paid off. Either way?

Your pussy rejoiced as he all but lost it. The pain and pleasure mixed as your voice was fucked out of you. Itto wasn't moaning, but growling as his fangs dug into your shoulder. Crashes from some far away dishes were heard as your toes went numb.

And your brain went blank.

Sparks of lightning drummed through you as you both erupted, Itto burying himself deep before-

Something painful pricked you inside-

Your orgasm was heightened, almost as if you came again and harder. Itto never came inside before. You couldn't breathe, so full and zapped from pleasure you passed out.

When you came to, Itto was rubbing your back, his brow knitted in embarrassment and worry as your swollen lids pried open.

"Babe? Babe, you ok? You passed out on me!"

You couldn't talk, voice hoarse from screaming. You cleared it, and Itto pulled your closer while helping you drink.

"I- shit I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm so sorry, I lost control and I-"

"-S'ok. I wanted you to."

"-really shouldn't have let myself go that far-...wait what... did you just say?"

"It's ok. I wanted you to."

Itto looked down at you, your pretty eyes smiling up at him as you drew lazy circles over his nipple.

"...why would you uh.... want that?"

"Cause you looked like you were in so much pain holding back. I knew you weren't satisfied, either. We've run through so many pairs of sheets because you've ripped them, it's ridiculous."

You giggled, lightly pinching it as you noticed the sensitive mound perked.

"You always wait till I'm asleep to go jerk off, and still, it isn't enough. You reach for me in your sleep, too. Every morning you use my thighs, chanting my name."

"Cause I don't want to hurt you. You're so fucking tiny, and tight and sensitive and...fragile..."

'That I want to break you.'

Itto didn't say the rest out loud, cursing himself as he felt his need flare.

"Itto, I told you it's ok. I want you to be satisfied. I can handle it. And even if I can't, I can learn."

"...Princess, this isn't something so easy to learn. I'm not your normal guy. And I can-"

"-Turn into something that can't be turned off till I'm satisfied,' I know. I want you. I want all of you. Besides I'm not some scared little pansy-"

"Then..can we go again...?"

You looked up at Itto, his wild blush full of guilt and hunger.

"Huh?"

"I...I'm... like this again...I want you. Please."

His hand guided yours to his rock-hard member, making you massage him as he choked on a moan. Desperation began bleeding from his eyes as the pleasure built, and you pulled back the covers to see his head already slick with precum.

"Oh, Itto..." you cooed.

Though now, your coo was broken as you watched him eat you out, stroking himself as he pinned your legs beside your head. He panted roughly as your swollen bundle of nerves was tossed around with his tongue before pulling your pussy apart, moaning as he dove tongue first into those silky walls.

A few strokes later, you came around the wet muscle before he brought the reward to your lips, sharing the creampie before diving back in to make another. Your tears sprang as he skillfully worked himself inside you. With a brush on your g-spot, the wet lip lock was broken as you both watched him bottom out with exasperated moans.

Your dress was gathered at your stomach, heels lost, makeup ruined as Itto caressed your face.

"You're so fucking pretty, Princess."

You gripped around him involuntarily, giving him the go ahead to abuse your asshole further.

Your pussy was out of commission, but this pretty, round, bouncy thing could take another round.

Or 4.

Itto was sure of it.

You? Not so much.

But you didn't mind.

Really, you didn't.

It was a grand idea to spend Saturday night being pinned up in ways he loved to devour anyway.

The moon was high, crickets singing when you came to. Itto was buried in your chest, holding you close as he snored deeply. Properly naked, he'd taken off your dress, jewelry and even your makeup when you passed out, like he always did. Grabbing the water he set up for you, you took your time drinking-

Itto held the cup for you, his hands moving before his eyes had opened.

"You ok, lovie?"

"Mm-hm."

Leaning up, he fed you water bit by bit, knowing he was the culprit for the thirst after skull fucking you.

He couldn't help it, you were just too pretty in burgundy lipstick..

When you'd had enough, Itto smoothed your hair from your face before kissing you.

"Need the bathroom?"

You shook your head before Itto guided you to his chest, rubbing your back slowly.

"Sorry for ruining your girls night."

"I would say it's ok but I don't believe you."

His chuckle made you grimace as you felt your body ache, making him kiss the top of your head.

"I'll try to behave next time. Promise."

"I'm terrified of what that will consist of..."

"Just a little bit of today...nothing too crazy."

"Before or after I go out?"

".......both."

2022 Copywritten and Owned by @opiumkitten

Do not claim or repost anywhere. If you see any works on any other site claimed by anyone else but @opiumkitten please report it to me and report it to the site. Thank you

[shxfting]

felix is a little surprised. he thinks if the roles were reversed and he’d been ruling on his own for so long, he’d have happily taken a co-ruler who didn’t want to do any actual ruling. but he supposes he’ll have to step up. it might be nice, to show off the skills that might have gone to waste at home. “i will keep all of that in mind. i think it’ll be an adjustment period for me, to have to push back if i need to…do you have a set schedule with your council?”

"i would also consider that a win. but a political marriage still has expectations attached. i have not had a co-ruler in centuries and i do not know if i know how to do that anymore. you may need to... push back if i am making unilateral decisions, especially ones that may not be the best for the court. i do listen to my council. i trust their judgment immensely. but i have been known to ignore them. sometimes it's a good call and sometimes it is not. i cannot ignore you and you should not let me try."