#smells good rp

[psychicdelicz]

Nvm i don't like ur hair anymore. 😡

WHAT DID I DO???

[pinetreethefinetree]

"...hello? is this thing recording..ugh. Dipper where ARE you? your running a bit late- and unfortunately there actually is a ghost here. And its annoying the HECK out of me!-"

”I’m sorry! I’m actually on my way now! I had to help Mabel with one of her boy things! Sorry! I’ll bring a mirror too-“

*He boy grabs a mirror and shoved it in his satchel, he isn’t in what he normally wears, he has a white T-shirt and gray sweatpants on. He was trying to look nice. Not the easiest thing for him. But he did ditch the hat.*

“seriously I’m on my way-“

*He runs out the door.*

[angustheciprianni]

Whats ur fav flower

" I don't know... You should guess.. "

[evilmannodasmybabygirl]

My lovely idol @kittenchans-numberonefan cane to visit! Snapped this pic real quick-

Ill post an update pic tomorrow :3

[townofcadence]

Snowed In

@talesofnovembria continued from here!

She'd initially raised a brow when Artair sought her out to help with some supernatural rumors. More than anything, it was more that he was coming to her rather than someone closer. More pressing was her stepping away from the Estate to deal with something like this. Sure, Cassandra and her husband didn't really seem to mind...

But Alexander was always the main issue. She could rant and rave about how she didn't care what he said about her actions... but that would be a lie. Assuming this outing wouldn't take too long, there really shouldn't be anything for him to complain about.

Salena and Artair might not have seemed like much... but they were a powerful force when they were working in tandem with one another.

Both of them had agreed to meet up at his gas station, moving through the ley-line rather than risking her gates. Smart really, making it mean she only needed one to get to Cadence. In turn, this also gave her time to gather supplies. The "mission" was pretty tame. Go to investigate the mountains and the anomalies that were taking place there. Vague was the word he'd used, and she agreed.

The set of saronite armor would be overkill for something like this... but even some casual clothes might not be the right call either. Supernatural meant dangerous more often than not. Having protection would work in her favor. As a compromise, she dawned her leather armor. Another perk was having some small bags attached to help carry her other supplies.

Supplies which included a strange looking whistle and a vial of sand. Those were the two most important things aside from her blades. No reason not to bring those too. If she didn't need them, then fine. If not used, having them with her would help channel any runic magic she might use.

Before long, both parties arrived at the station, her ignoring any strange looks that might have been directed at her. Logic and strategy came as second nature.

They stepped through the ley-line...

And were immediate hit by white.

Snow was one thing. Both of them could handle that... but this was a full on blizzard. A chill rushed up her body the moment her feet sank into the snow, frigid winds biting against the uncovered parts of her body. This was bad. Very bad.

She was used to dealing with harsh winter weather... when she was undead. It was entirely another matter now that she was alive again. Mad worse by her weakened health. The leather was at least doing its job from not immediately getting soaked. If they didn't do something soon though, they were both going to freeze.

Salena's head snapped to the side when Artair called out to her, shivers already starting to wrack her body. A portal? Right. A gate. Her hand came up, feeling the way the runic magic moved through her. Gates were easy...

Unless you felt your power immediately cut off before it can finish.

A chopped snarl erupted from her throat. Ok, calm down. Assess the situation. Was it just the gates? Her eyes fell back on Artair, moving her feet through the snow to bring up some ice to at least block one direction of the roaring snow in the air. Same result. It was cut off before it could finish. Her snarl increased as she called back to him, "No good. It's like someone, or something has silenced me."

Her hood and mask was good at keeping the snow out of her face, so it would be best for her take temporary lead. She pushed over to Artair, keeping her voice a little loud so he could still hear her, "Our best option right now is to find some shelter, if not to wait out the storm, then to make a plan and see what we can figure out before freezing."

"Are there any known caves or landmarks here that you might know of?"

It is a fleeting relief, seeing the snow dusting Sal’s coat, but not melting on the touch. Wolves used to be something he watched documentaries on while he worked on things in the shop—their coats, called a pelage, has two layers. One is meant to keep the snow and wind and rain out, while the other-- the undercoat—insulates and traps air, to keep them warm in winter. He can feel a fraction of a shiver he’s sure is hers, but at least she wouldn’t freeze fast; seeing the snow on her fur refusing to melt might mean she has that same pelage as a worgen. And thank the fucking stars too. Fur like that could keep the snow and wind at bay, maintaining her vitals and warmth well below zero. Its why wolves could survive so well up north in the frozen tundras. And with her living in a place like Sweden, her winter coat would likely be sticking around from the colder climate. She had a lot wrong with her body, but she for sure has fur, and that can’t--- it can’t work the wrong way like some of her can. So maybe this wouldn’t be so rough on her, even if it was unpleasant.

He pushes away a circling thought. His heart squeezes in his chest with a surge of – something, he’s not sure what, and it’s not worth the time as another howling blast of algid air whips against the two of them. He hisses, watching Sal begin her moment for a gate. There’s a tingling, a sense of magic, a sense of her own, before—nothing. Numb. Fire along his neck and down his spine and tears in his eyes that don’t make sense. The air feels thinner than before, like he’s spinning, but he doesn’t even sway. Is it his? Ugh--- he can’t tell. But there’s an emptiness, a sense of nothing like a hole in his chest, and he doesn’t need to see the lack of gate to know it didn’t show like it was meant to.

Something had to be blocking the spell.

He nods at her reaching the same conclusion at likely the same moment, barely hearing her over the wailing storm. It doesn’t seem worth trying a spell of his own. Not in these conditions where he can barely see a foot in front of him and everything aches and burns, and not when he’s a novice at best: if Sal can’t do anything, he’s sure they’d get the same result.

He reaches into his pocket for his phone, fishing it out with red fingers and curling over it to see the screen. Snow already patters against it, leaving drops. He pulls the hood over his head to conserve what heat he can, rolling his shoulder as his eyes flick over the screen. The biggest issue was not knowing where they were in relation to anything else, but he could see a trail with at least a dozen shelters along it, likely for surprise storms, and the safety of hikers. There’s some kind of town at the bottom of the mountain, but they’d never make it that far--- but if they could reach the trail, they might be able to find shelter.

“I don’t know where we are.” He shouts, brushing the ice from his face. His cheeks hurt. “But I see a trail. No caves on the map but I’m sure there has to be some around. We could move and look for some kind of shelter for a few minutes, but if we can’t spot anything in this storm, I think we should build a snow-burrow.” The words sound familiar in his ears, like Byron is right behind him sharing one of his survival kernels of wisdom. “I’ll see if I can’t get us a good direction.”

Artair slips his phone into his bag and produces a compass instead, a tiny thing the size of a quarter in his hand. The mountain was north of the town at the base of it, so if they could head south---

The needle wobbles, then wiggles more sporadic, before spinning wild on its axis. A shake does nothing to cure his compass of the erratic movement-- the needle didn’t seem keen to stop, and picks up speed. His frown deepens, before he shoves it back in his bag. His voice drops a little, dipping with a cough, before he forces it loud enough to be legible again. “I--I guess we pick a random one to move in. Unless you can hear or smell something that could h-help.”

[franklinfinley]

(@zoruascanbetrainerstoo) Hihi! What's your favorite region you've been to? -Illanero

My favorite region will always be Unova <3 that's where i was born amd raised and started my journey, and it's where my bestest of friends live! Ive been meaning to visit again... i'm kinda really craving some authentic Nimbasa-Style chili fries. Ohhh what id give for a Castelia Cone on the pier

[kurtcobain4real]

do u really smell like teen spirit?

Yes

[sparky-the-springbot]

Today is my anniversary of the day Peter Walter II took me out of the cave!

It’s hard to believe that it was only 100 years ago! (Probably because I’ve spent some of that time with space pirates who can time travel)

I’m going to celebrate by going to a candle store! I wouldn’t buy one for myself with the credit card the Walters trusted me with because that’s not what it’s for, but just being in there will be fun, the candles all smell so interesting.

[rolandeep1984]

bug boy whats your least favorite bug

1. don’t call me that I have a name

2. and uhhhh i don’t know, i don’t like flies or whatever. They’re annoying to deal with i guess. Sorry i don’t really know alot about bugs.

[a-gastly-trio]

Are you aware of the gastly line entries in the pokedex, especially toward the final evolution?

You mean in general or like specifically the parts about how our kind like to murder (or whatever).

Yea we know, and while we can't FULLY speak for animalistic cousins, I can tell you most of them are clearly untrue.

Yea, Gastly gas IS made of poison, but it can also be willfully controlled to NOT poison people. I mean, don't tell me you haven't been near one, breathed that shit in and was fine. Let's be real here

Oh, but they do smell sweet! Gage smells like Cinnamon and Vanilla, in fact~

HEY-

-ANYWAY. 2. Haunters licks, spit or whatever don't necessarily paralyze people (Let alone kill, like seriously?!), again this can be controlled.

Although, I've heard my saliva can be quite tingly~! Any takers-?

-AND 3. WE GENGARS CAN HIDE IN THE SHADOWS. Doesn't mean we use it to stalk people. Uh, we are pretty cold in body temp though. I mean MOST ghost-types are. Also I ain't stealing anyone's life, I already got my own to worry about.

[fourfuckinghorsemen]

Nothing is quite as refreshing as a good shower.

[when-the-doves-cry]

ok.. okokok ok .. im sorry jevin. im chill. im cool as a cucumber... can i please help you out,.. you are so................... silly cute

Jevin groans and rolls his eyes, but he hesitantly extends a flight wing out to the anon, holding onto his own hands and standing straight and still as a statue. "...You be gentle." His wings are surprisingly well kept, albeit a little bit oily and frayed, but if you've ever smelled a parrot, he smells like that only twice as good. "And- I appreciate the compliments."

[jnewstedd]

Hi guys. today i am going to pie one of my bandmates in the face . for shits n giggles ...

[wrinkled-sheets-and-sunlight]

Open RP - Werewolf Mondo Owada

Despite having this curse for several years now, Mondo still didn't understand a single bit of it. Sure, full moon equals werewolf, but that was the only thing that stayed a constant since being bit. It used to be he'd wake up the next morning with absolutely no memory of what he'd done during the moon, but as he got older, stronger, he was able to consistently keep his free will through the night. Maybe he was just getting better at it over time? His body acclimating to the change? He didn't know, and while that weird breeder guy in the class above had explained it to him multiple times, he still didn't understand.

The dick thing though? That was easy to put together, even without an in depth analysis from Gundham. And hadn't that been a fun conversation, Mondo blurting it all out after the guy asked how his moons were going since starting T. He swore he already knew about what was going on, he was a sex demon or whatever, right? Plus, he'd had that stupid smirk on his face, the fucking prick...

Whatever, it was simple enough. No dick when human, dick when wolf. As weird as it was, Mondo was happy about it, even if he'd rather keep the dick once shifting back into a human. It was validating, made him feel like a real man even when not a werewolf. He wasn't about to complain that much.

That...was before the 'ruts' had started.

Another thing he still didn't understand despite his upperclassman's explaination, the most confusing part being even as a human he could do the whole dick thing while it was going on. Something about an inbalanced flood of hormones changing his body chemistry and whatever, he'd stopped listening by that point and just left. How was he supposed to focus on a werewolf lesson when his skin felt like it was burning?

What was he even supposed to do? Only a few people knew he was trans, let along a fucking werewolf. And now he had a magic wolf dick on top of it?? He kinda wished he'd stayed to listen to Gundham now as he paced his room, Mondo so caught up in his head and hormones he hadn't realized someone had come in until after the door clicked shut...

[monstersflashlight]

Commission for @vgilantee

A/N: Thank you so much for your commission! This was so fun to write, I hope you enjoy it! <3

Request: may i please get a big big werewolf and fem!reader fucking big nasty style 🫣🤭 feral, animalistic, and nasty. maybe after some predator/prey rp in the woods, but honestly free reign. go crazy ^^

“Don’t run”

Werewolf x fem!reader || size kink, predator/prey, chasing, biting, knotting, lowkey breeding

You had been living with your werewolf boyfriend for a couple weeks when the first full moon arrives. In the two years you’ve been together, he always made plans with his pack during the full moon, of that’s what he told you. Apparently he didn’t trust himself around you, so he barricaded himself in his basement and waited it out. He built a werewolf-proof cage and tied himself with some big metal chains to keep himself on check.

You are sure it wouldn’t be that bad, there’s no way he would hurt you, even with the full moon. Or maybe you were wrong.

Now, when he insists on you tying him up and leaving some of your clothes with him, you comply. He says your scent calms his beast, and that way it would be harder for him to escape. You two are so sure everything would be okay that you don’t double check the restrains. First mistake of the night.

You are lazily lying around upstairs when you hear the first crack. It sounds like thunder, but the night outside is clear, not a single cloud in the sky. You get down to the first floor and look around, nothing seems out of place, maybe some animal outside broke some tree or something. You don’t question it too deeply. Second mistake of the night.

When you heard another crack, this time a lot louder, you decide to go inspect the basement. You get to the door at the same time as he does.

The door is on the floor, completely broken, and his face is the one of a predator. Adrenaline and fear fuel your body as you move slowly to the door, feeling like the prey you just became. You two were so sure everything was going to be alright that you didn’t talk what to do if this happened. You are on your own, and he’s a full transformed werewolf looking at you like you are his next meal.Oh fuck.

“Don’t run,” he says, his voice too gravely, too deep, more monster than human. You breathe hard, looking between the door and him. He growls, a warning. But you were never the one to take good choices.

You know it’s not a good idea. You know it’s probably the worst idea ever, but you are scared and your heart is beating too fast and too loud for you to listen to whatever your brain is saying. You shouldn’t run, but your fear is louder than reason. You look at him, completely transformed, and turn on your heels, bolting for the forest.

You know you aren’t supposed to run away from a predator, but you do it either way. Probably the third mistake of the night and the one that condemns you.

You hear his howl behind you as you start to run, your body forcing itself to exhaustion really fast. But you don’t stop, you keep pushing yourself faster, trying to look for a place to hide. You can’t find any, but you are plenty aware that it wouldn’t matter. Once he catches you, he will be completely mad, feral. He will be too animalistic to understand who you are.

You ran and ran, your breathing fast and labored, taking too much of your already low energy. You don’t know what to do, where to go, you are lost in the forest and there’s a predator on your heels.

You can hear him behind you, following you, but not catching you just yet. He’s playing with you, he could catch you easily, you aren’t that fast or see that well in the dark. But he doesn’t want the fun to end, he’s enjoying the smell of your fear, the taste of your desire under it. He’s toying with you. He’s toying with his prey. And that makes your adrenaline to spike and your pussy to tingle.

Maybe you are a bit fucked up in the head, maybe you are enjoying it more than you should. You never knew you liked it a bit rough until you knew him, it shouldn’t be a surprise that you love him chasing you. You feel like red riding hood and he’s the wolf out to catch you… And that excites you.

You keep running as your pussy gets wetter. The noises and howls he makes behind you adding to the fire burning inside of you until you feel you were going to melt completely.

And then there’s silence…

Nothing around you, not a single sound apart from your breathing and rabbit-fast heart. And then you see a shadow in the corner of your eye. He throws you to the ground, face down, and covers your body with his. He’s so big and so heavy your breath escapes your lungs. You scream as he bites down on the side of your neck, right over your mating bond. He holds you down with his teeth as you struggle under him, unable to move more than a few millimeters.

He growls in warning and starts tearing your clothes. The air is cold against your heated skin, and his claws feel too sharp, but you can’t ignore the edge of pleasure as he touches your body. He doesn’t wait long, he licks at the new mark on your neck as he touches your soaking wet pussy, humming in contentment. He pinches your clit between his claws and you moan loudly, embarrassed that you make that unholy sound.

He pushes your head down with his other paw as you feel the tip of his dick against your pussy. He’s there for just a second before he’s all the way inside of you. He doesn't let you breathe, he fucks you like a piston, his dick caressing every part inside of you, so big he’s hitting your cervix as you scream with every thrust. The edge of pain is adding to your pleasure to the point of insanity.

You are drooling on the forest floor as a beast growls and fucks you raw. You don’t know how much of your boyfriend is aware of what it’s happening, of what he’s doing… He’s just a big monster and you are a hot hole to fill. In and out, in and out, the pace so fast and so savage that your body moves with his thrusts, your hands and knees getting scratched against the dirt. And you love it.

It feels depraved to be feeling so good being treated so roughly. But deep down you know your boyfriend is somewhere inside of the beast, there’s a part of him behind you. And a big part of him hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You reach down and touch your clit, rubbing frantically as he keeps fucking you. Your face is against the floor and your tongue tastes like grass, but the delicious friction of your fingers against your pussy make you see stars.

You feel your orgasm approaching as some of your juices gush around his dick. He stills for a second and then you feel the big engorgement at the base of his dick pushing against your stretched hole. You cry out as he pushed it in, zero caress, zero worries for your well-being, only the need to be inside of you. To breed you. And you are loving every single second of his feral side ravaging you.

His knot finally slips inside, stretching you so wide that it brings tears to your eyes as you orgasm once again. He doesn’t care what is happening with you, he keeps grinding his knot against your G-spot, milking his own pleasure and accidentally making yours ascend to the next plane. You orgasm again as he howls to the moon and fills you with rope after rope of warm come.

You feel every little twitch of his dick inside you as he keeps coming, and coming, and coming. And you keep gushing around him, completely spent. Your eyes are heavy and your body is limp, at his mercy. The last thought you have before you pass out is how dying like that would be a good way to go.

You wake up on a comfy bed with your werewolf boyfriend next to you. He’s back to human form, and your body feels like a big bruise. You wince when you try to face him and he grunts. “I told you not to run,” he tells you, worry written all over his face.

“I know…” You whisper, looking at him intensely. The images and pleasure from last night come back to you in waves, making you dizzy as you tell him: “I would do it again.” He smirks at you and kisses you until you forget all about the soreness of your body.

Remember that you can also commission me, info here

[pokemonch]

...i need to get me a sprigatito

grnasdy soso CUUTRE

OYU HOSDUL SMELIM THIRS SDO GODFD