#there's some stuff I cut out of this

[thehealingsystem]

was just going to comment but I figured this deserved a more in depth response. so now I ask users of tumblr to STOP MAKING POLLS LIKE THIS

for warning there is rampant aphobia in the notes, as expected but really fucking sad because I thought most of our community moved past this shit. but apparently not

asexual and aromanticism is inherently part of the lgbtq+ community. no ifs ands or buts. not on the condition of being queer in some other way, not on the condition of how much oppression they experience. and from reading the comments, people need some reminders

gatekeeping who is "lgbt enough" based on how badly a group is oppressed is bullshit. first off, a bunch of you obviously haven't read into any discussions or research on aspec folks and the experiences they've had with this. because I can assure you that we ALSO are on the receiving end of the harm from heteronormative views of society and having our orientations questioned, criticized, and rejected. just because you refuse to even LOOK at what aspecs are saying about their own lives and don't experience that yourself doesn't mean you can completely deny that we aren't oppressed.

and to be fair, I am queer in other ways and being aspec isn't the most important part of my identity for me BECAUSE I've been a lot more hurt for those other parts, such as being lesbian or being trans. but I obviously don't speak for the entire community

but secondly, it's not the best thing in the world to base whether or not someone is allowed in the Exclusive Minority Group around how badly they've been hurt. this has been done to hell and back and has shown to only be harmful. transmedicalism bases itself off of this, and I see it in a lot of transmeds to this day. that they're hurt and suffering due to being trans, therefore anyone else who is trans has to be hurt and suffering too or else they're not REALLY trans. Not REALLY a part of the group. Because if they're not oppressed enough obviously they don't belong here right? literally the logic people are putting in the comments right now

And by god, people NEED to get normal about alloaros. if a guy doesn't experience romantic attraction and is just sexually attracted to women, that is it. he cannot choose his orientation. he can't change anything about who or who he isn't attracted to

seriously there's replies saying with their full chest that he's just trying to distance himself from women while still being sexually active with them in order to use it as a scapegoat for his misogyny. which also shows that we still see asexual and aromanticism as an ACTION rather than an actual valid orientation. what the hell do you want this hypothetical man to do??? suddenly gain romantic feelings??? pft

so many have problems with split attraction for so many reasons that go straight into basic plain old queerphobia. towards non-aspec sam and aspec sam alike. that the labels aren't valid and we would just use something else, to that no one can actually have attraction like that because romantic and sexual attraction are always the same definitely (/sar), our labels are useless and there's no point in them, we're trying to invade some sort of community, that we're literal predators and trying to make people attracted to us, the list goes on and on

please stop giving these people a platform to spout their queerphobia. I've seen so many polls like this asking questions of whether they think xyz identity is valid, and while I may have let loose with the contradictory identities one bc it was mostly positive and I just wanted to express pride in it, there's so many that go all wrong, asked in bad faith meant to bring out hateful discourse

this is a poll with 15980+ votes so far with 4746+ voting no. are you kidding me. aphobia? in our year 2023, nearly 2024? literally just stop already

[choccy-milky]

how seb and clora get together in my fic 💕bc what better time and place to confess and share your first kiss than around a bunch of inferi + the dead body of a man you just killed?? 🥰💖

[bamsara]

Cult of the Lamb Mini - Demon Sticker sheet I made (+ Nari & Lamb because I felt like the sheet had too much empty space so they're mini stickers too) And our girl Heket🐸

Made for Patreons for April. These will be available on my KoFi shop soon maybe >.>

[reineydraws]

ode to coming home by @portgasu

these are my full pieces for the @opfluffzine 🥰🥰 it was really fun doing the spot art for this uta lives fic and super great to work with asriel! go show the fic some love on ao3, and if you wanna check out the rest of the zine, you can download it here for free 💞

process gifs under the cut!

[art-is-kayos]

Dantlings

Bonus charon:

[kingjasnah]

alright. the differences between the ghostbloods on roshar and the ghostbloods on scadrial are so stark.....after TLM came out and we saw them fr for the first time it was like....this is just Final Empire Crew Part 2. they call him 'kell'. they have stupid in jokes. its not that i think kelsier is above getting a little evil with it but when marasi doesnt join the ghostbloods it's whatever but when shallan doesn't join she's like "um guys theyre going to kill my entire family." did iyatil pop over from scadrial like actually this time we're operating like an actual secret society and NOT a frat house

[neunhofferart]

fave scene u boarded this season?

Okay, MAJOR SPOILERS for Jurassic World Chaos Theory Season 2 incoming haha. It's hard to pick just one, so here's a bunch:

Favorite scenes that made it to screen:

The sucho vs. hippo fight (Though sadly I didn't request this one for my demo real because most of the boards are not very pretty/had to be cleaned up by someone else due to time. These panels below are some of the few that look nice enough to show LOL. Originally in the script, there were TWO hippos we called Orson and Welles, but it was just too much going on in that little set, so the whole thing had to be reworked from scratch halfway through the boarding period. My director Mike Mullen and our revisionist Emma Gilles contributed a LOT to this sequence and made my hastily redone roughs actually legible for everyone, and added/refined more after I had to move on in the schedule)

Ben freaking out while everyone piles more and more problems on Yaz

Kenji fixing his dislocated arm while Darius gagged

Santos sending Red to kill Captain Lang (I have permission to share this one in full, but I need to format it because it's in pdf form).

Favorite scenes that were cut or significantly trimmed down:

Extended scene of Brooklynn feeding Gordon that introduced more of an idea of her having lingering PTSD around dinosaurs, while also highlighting more of the connection between her and Gordon sharing a limb difference. It was a more contemplative scene, but the episode hit 30 or 35 minutes in the initial cut and it could only be 22, so a LOT was cut in the Brooklynn episode (I also have permission to share all of this one, but again need to format it first)

Extended Kenji/Brooklynn break up scene- The first half is still there, which leads into what Rianna originally boarded in 104. A stupid detail I'm proud of- when Kenji leads Brooklynn up the mountain by hand, it's the last time anyone ever holds that hand (in that way). HOWEVER- there was originally a bit more past what Rianna did in 104 that showed how their dynamic/what they both wanted out of their relationship wasn't really in sync. Brooklynn tries to defend her actions to Kenji, but Kenji feels that her work has grown important to her than he is, and Brooklynn actually winds up being the person to say 'Fine, then let's break up!' Which I doubt she mentioned to Darius haha. Anyway, this was again cut because the episode was too dang long.

[b4kuch1n]

THEE audiodrama disguised as podcast

[vinceaddams]

17th century gloves are. very good.

[sen-ya]

SEN MAKE LUFFY PUNCH THAT KID!!! MAKE HIM PUNCH THE SIX YEAR OLD! LAW IS NOT A BITCH!!!

I am not sorry to Trafalgar in the slightest for having to deal with idiot one and idiot two.

@ccrider-2014 yeah he’s well versed in “I’m about to have to clean up a mess”

[casscainmainly]

When discussing Batfam relationships, there's a tendency to focus on out-of-context 'events'. For example, when discussing Tim and Dick, many people bring up the 'giving away Robin' event without talking about their reconciliation immediately after or their lengthy history of love and brotherhood. Same goes for Tim and Damian; they are almost entirely defined by the early events of their relationship (namely the dinosaur murder attempt and the line-cutting), rather than their more amicable interactions later on, or their nuanced and complicated feelings for each other.

This is possibly why people want Cass and Jason to get along - there's no 'event' to make them dislike each other, so people don't think too hard about whether they would actually be good companions. On the flip side, many people use Batgirl (2008) to say Cass and Dick don't get along, without discussing their reconciliation in Batman and the Outsiders + evidence of their camaraderie elsewhere. (Also ignoring that 2008 is deliberately OOC for Dick).

This is completely understandable. Events are often glossed over in canon, so some of this behaviour stems from desiring a bigger unpacking of certain moments. Also, nobody has read every comic in existence, and of course you'd base your dynamics on what you have read.

However, I think it's important to remember that events don't exist in isolation, and relationships are defined not only by events but by how people interpret and learn from them. Singular events rarely define entire relationships. Personalities, belief systems, and relationships to others affect how events are viewed (case in point: to Tim, the line-cutting is more of an excuse to beat Damian into the ground, rather than a threat to his life. Damian is way more affected by the hit list than Tim is by the line-cutting).

Events definitely have a place in relationships, and I make headcanons based on singular events all the time. But including context, consequences, personalities, and perspectives into discussions makes for richer and more meaningful interpretations.

[ganondoodle]

me: finally im able to cope with how much i hate totk and can fuel that energy into other things :)

nintendy: the shiekah tech just dissappeared and no one knows why or cares enough to investigate it lol. lmao. its gone bc the calamity is gone or something even tho it literally isnt bc ganondorf is right there haha lol, stop asking, why do you care. just forget it existed and look at that sexy goatman and glue instead!! glue! isnt that wild?? also its totally a direct, 100% same universe and exact same characters, despite them act totally out of character, sequel to botw-

[bamsara]

went a whole agonizing week of no coffee caffine just for my streak to be broken because a family member made regular coffee in the pot and told me it was decaff. it was in fact not decaff

(also i promise I'm working on stuff and chapters and art, im just super busy right now preparing for the con and dealing other life stuff lskdghlksdhgs. hold out for arts n stuff soon)

[demonslayedher]

I finished posting the unabashedly educational Sword Fic.

It includes a detailed (but hopefully beginner-friendly) explanation of all the steps of making a Nichirin blade from a sunny mountain like Mt. Youkou, a touch of swordsmith and metalworker folk lore (including demons), meta about what must make Kimetsu no Yaiba's swordsmithing methods different from real life methods, some character exploration for Haganezuka and his polishing method, vocabulary and additional resources in the chapter notes, and hopefully, an endearing, silly POV character to learn this all through.

[hijackalx]

PARTY OF TWO +18

SUMMARY: You and Gale are looking for a reason to ditch your friends at the tavern— why not make that reason each other?

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

UNDER THE CUT: F!reader, thigh-riding, praise kink, p in v, vaginal fingering, mirror sex, bondage (mage hand), multiple orgasms, love hotel, somewhat switch-y gale

The bustling tavern is filled with the sounds of drunken chatter and the occasional song. You sympathize with the bartender, who struggles to keep up with the demands of slurring customers. You think they wouldn't need so many refills if half of their drinks didn't end up on the floor.

You glance around from your seat at the bar, gaze hopping through patrons. Karlach is on her ninth pint, Wyll captivates a crowd with a far-fetched tale, and Astarion has found a pretty, young thing to entertain himself with. They all carry smiles on their faces and rosy cheeks, something you haven't had the pleasure of seeing in quite some time.

You're glad your friends seem to be enjoying themselves— you know how badly they've been needing to. Their plates have been full recently, so it's nice to be able to settle down for some fun.

As for yourself... well, let's just say you were outvoted when it came to agreeing on what "fun" was. This place is a little chaotic for your tastes, and not to mention tart from all the dwarf sweat and beer. You try not to cringe at how every surface is sticky and how every song that's sung is just slightly off-key.

Amidst your grumbling, a familiar figure takes the open spot beside you, and by the look on his face, you realize you're not the only one who's fighting the urge to be a spoilsport.

Gale— the ambitious wizard from Waterdeep. You two don't speak much, meaning you've yet to break the barrier of "acquaintance". You've never really sat down with him for more than small talk, not even at camp. You will admit though, from what you've picked up about him through eavesdropping has left you somewhat curious.

You think now might be a good time to finally get to know each other better. Besides, it doesn't appear that anyone else is willing to bond over your distaste for such lively establishments.

Your gaze flickers his way, confident and gregarious. Although, the ice-breaker on your tongue melts away once you notice that he's already looking in your direction. There's a slight raise to one of his brows and a tug at the corner of his mouth.

"... Gale—!" You needlessly announce his presence before your voice dies out.

You're not sure what it is, but for some reason, you seem to have forgotten how to speak. Your mouth hangs slack, and your throat is too tight for any words to escape. Maybe his staring caught you off guard— or maybe you'd forgotten just how attractive he is until now.

He sends you a small, perturbed smile, and you instantly feel the responsibility to cease the silence between you. "Sorry," you apologize for your offbeat behavior, then make a gesture to the glass in front of you. "Guess that's a sign to slow down, isn't it?"

It's unclear whether he's laughing at you or with you when he replies, "One too many?"

Your attention gravitates toward his fingers wrapping around his glass, then shifts to the liquid inside as it meets his lips. The sip is quick before he finds your eyes again.

You hope your ogling is averted fast enough to remain inconspicuous. "Not enough to make being here worthwhile," you respond flatly.

He hums in agreement, bouncing his brows up once. "I'm not too keen on taverns myself."

You both watch as Karlach engages in an arm wrestling match with a half-orc man across the room, the audience surrounding them getting rowdier by the minute.

He turns back to you with a smile and a shrug. "I'm more fitted for gatherings of a lesser degree." He pauses, appearing thoughtful before adding, "A bit of one-on-one, if you will."

His last sentence piques your interest, and you scan him inquisitively to figure out if it means what you think it does. There's an air of playfulness to him as you meet his gaze once more, an inviting glimmer in the shadow of his brow.

It doesn't take a genius to know that was an attempt at flirting with you, and if you have any sense, you'll see where this can take you; it's not everyday you get to romp with a man who's allegedly bedded a goddess.

You feign coyness by taking a sip from your glass. "It seems we're both outliers in that respect," you say to him over the chanting invading the building— from it, you conclude the consensus is that Karlach will win the match.

"Observant," he remarks, leaning in your direction. There's a look of confidence on his face that is wholly endearing, not to mention flattering. "I know of a much better place for it. I was thinking about heading there now, actually."

Your brow cocks upward as if the proposition on his mind is hidden from you. "Oh?" you hum, your fingernails tapping at your glass absentmindedly. "... Are you meeting someone?" You ensure that your voice is sweet, yet harboring a hint of longing behind it.

"I suppose it's fortunate I'm not, since I was hoping I wouldn't have to go alone."

You return the grin he gives you, knowing and affirming. A buzz of anticipation blooms in your chest when he places a palm on your knee, beckoning an explosion of heat to the skin beneath it.

Drifting closer, he speaks as if only for the two of you to hear, "you wouldn't mind accompanying an old wizard, would you?" His words are like honey by your ear, smooth and tempting. It sends the slightest shiver down your spine.

He pulls away just enough to meet your eyes, watching, waiting. You pretend to think on it, but he doesn't appear to fall for it for a second. "Hmm... that doesn't seem like it'd be too out of my way."

The hand on your knee flexes into a squeeze, a pleased twinkle in his eye. "Lovely."

You sneak out the door together, allowing him to place a guiding hand at the small of your back. The touch is that of a gentleman's, yet you feel the slightest tremor bubbling its way to the surface now and then.

The tension only rises between you with teasing exchanges. After some playful coaxing, he admits how he'd had his eye on you since the night began— how long he'd been waiting to get you alone.

"What were you waiting for?" You question, intrigued. It's not like anyone was stopping him.

"Approaching someone as sightly as yourself takes the courage of a lion.” He shoots you a flirtatious grin, his stare shameless and unwavering. “As you can imagine, that’s not an easy amount to muster.”

"Courage?" You repeat with a laugh. He's taken aback when you impede his path, a scheming tug to your lips. You study him a moment before raising your hand to his cheek, tilting your head slightly.

With a half-lidded gaze, you follow your fingers as they begin to trace over his bearded jaw. "Do I make you nervous, Gale?" You smile ever so sweetly. Your fingertips travel from his jaw to his lips, just barely touching the soft skin; you feel his warm, uneven exhales against them.

As you slowly bring your mouth to meet his, he seems almost frozen. Though, just as your lips graze, he places a hand at the back of your neck and closes the distance himself.

The kiss is hungry— impatient. His palms slide down to your hips, pulling you flush against him. The warmth of his body meshes with yours, and the exchanging of your breaths is visible in the cool, night air. You seem to get lost in the embrace, forgetting that you're still on the street; as a result, the hand you have resting on his chest slithers down his torso, a finger slipping into his waistband.

He makes a humming noise and reluctantly pulls away, his grip securing around your wrist to steady it. "Let's not get too eager," he chuckles, though you can tell his arousal is getting the better of him. "We've almost reached our destination— wouldn't want to spoil the fun, now would we?"

You giggle a little bit at the implication of 'spoiling the fun', then allow him to link his arm with yours as you continue onward, your pulse still thrumming with adrenaline. "Will you tell me where we're going?" You nudge him, wondering just what his clever mind has in store for you.

"It's better as a surprise, if that's alright with you."

A surprise, you note, sporting a subtle expression of delight. If you're being honest, your first impression of Gale left much to be desired— you thought he was, for a lack of a better word, simple. But this night has proven you wrong so far, and you hope it'll continue to go that way.

And, much to your amusement, it does.

You stand outside of a two-story building, the cobblestone exterior lit with the flames of lanterns hanging from the balcony. Also placed in distance of the light is a sign that you recognize.

He didn't just take you to any old inn, but an inn specifically for lovers.

While walking to the room he purchased at the desk, he turns to look down at you on the stairs. "So? What do you think?" He says, a lilt to his tone that exposes how pleased he is with himself.

"Would it surprise you if I said I've never stayed here before?"

"You're joking!" His face contorts in an almost scandalized fashion, searching you for any signs of jest. "Well, I guess I'll have to be the one to help you get familiar then." He sends a reassuring wink in your direction, then continues to lead you down the second-floor hallway.

Upon reaching your room, he holds the door open for you, placing a palm on your lower back to direct you in. You're stunned as you enter; the decor is like nothing you've ever seen before— from the circular bed draped with curtains, the luxurious bath, and the decorated mirror anchored to the ceiling.

"This is..." your voice trails off, truly at a loss for words. After hearing the door shut and lock, a presence approaches you from behind. Promptly, you feel the gentle ghosting of lips on your neck.

You inhale sharply as his breath leaves goosebumps on your skin. Hands resting on your waist, he holds you in place as he leaves the softest, teasing kiss behind.

"I know this is ill-mannered of me..." he starts, his voice suddenly deep and gravelly by your ear. "But I cannot wait any longer. Please."

The subtle desperation in his tone makes you shiver. Your lips part as he begins to run his hands up your body, traveling their way along your torso. You let out a small whimper at how his large, calloused palms feel through the thin material of your dress, how warm and inviting they are— how you wish for them to touch your bare body instead.

"Is this still what you want?" The short hairs on his jaw brush your skin as he speaks, breaths hastening as if he's raring for the green light.

You're almost too distracted by how his fingers restlessly bunch up the fabric just below your chest to answer. "Y-yes." You place your hands over his, moving them up. They finally engulf your breasts, his thumbs running over the hardened nipples begging to be freed.

"Yes, what?"

You turn your head slightly to peer at him over your shoulder. "I want you to fuck me." A warmth surges through your cheeks as the sentence leaves your mouth, the vulgarity of it both humiliating and exciting.

He's been anticipating hearing those words all night— keyed up like a dog waiting to be thrown a bone. He places a palm on your jaw and angles you to kiss him; it's reminiscent of the one on the street, but this time he doesn't hold back. It's raw and unrestrained, his tongue meeting yours and his teeth tugging on your bottom lip.

He pulls away to direct your figure to the wall. The material is cold on your cheek as he pins you against it, caging you between his arms. Aching for his touch, you arch your back to press your ass into him. He shamelessly rubs his hard-on against you for friction, letting out a broken moan by your ear and causing your thighs to squeeze together.

His hand snakes beneath the hem of your dress, seeking the pulsing heat between your legs. You widen your stance to give him better access, jaw falling slack as he locates your needy clit through your panties. You grind into his fingertip, impatient with how he toys with you— he picks up a rhythm only to break it, then repeats.

You let out a sound of frustration, and his solution is to stick his thigh between the two of yours.

You quickly pick up on what he's suggesting. “Gale," you say testily, unamused with his games. You'd much rather he'd just fuck you already.

"I want to watch," his voice comes out pleadingly and defensive. He lets out a shuddering breath before he licks his lip and mutters, "please, just… humor me."

The neediness in his tone raises goosebumps on your skin. You throb in response, a new wave of heat gathering to your cunt. You've never considered such an act, but he's convinced you with just a simple sentence. Lowering your weight onto him, you feel how the slick clinging to your folds smears into your undergarment, leaking through to paint your inner thighs.

He groans as he watches you use his thigh to get off, his cock twitching at how you whimper when he flexes the muscle. One hand leaves the wall to settle on your hip, and he uses it to guide you in slow, circular motions, causing your eyes to flutter shut.

His hips buck once he sees the pleasure on your features, a shaky moan leaving his throat. "You look so beautiful like this," he says through ragged breaths of arousal, watching how your brows knead together and your lips separate. "Keep going."

You feel a knot form in your lower stomach as he begins to bounce his knee, sending vibrations to your clit. His tempo is steady and relentless, eliciting a familiar, overwhelming sensation that courses through your veins. "G-gale," you say in a panic, "I can't. I'm going to— I can't—!" You fight off your orgasm with everything you've got, trying not to succumb to the waves of pleasure he sends through you.

You squirm in his grasp, but he keeps you in place. "It's okay, you're okay," he assures you, though he sounds like he's lingering on the edge himself. As if his words are a cue, your eyes squeeze shut and you finish on his thigh. Flashes of white dance behind your eyelids as you moan his name, your body jerking as it tenses repeatedly.

"S-shit," he stutters, biting his lip at how you move against his cock. He seems to hold his breath until you're done, letting out a heavy sigh of relief after he's succeeded in not coming prematurely as well.

He grips your shoulder with one hand, his thumb moving in circles over your skin as you recollect yourself. You attempt to turn around after a moment, yet you find that the buzzing in your legs makes for difficult use.

"Need a lift?" He laughs a bit.

You nod at him, putting your arms around his neck. With his palms settling just below your ass, he lifts you in one swift motion, carrying you in the direction of the bed.

Just as he begins to lay you down, he kisses you again— slow and seductive this time, but somehow hungrier. Your back gently meets the mattress, the fluffy duvet moulding around your shape and encasing you like a cloud. Your mouths begrudgingly disconnect, and as you open your eyes, you're taken aback by the reflection of yourself behind his head.

He notices your surprise, though the way he's looking you up and down says he has more important things on his mind. His gaze is heavy and almost daydreamy as he speaks, "I wanted you to be able to see yourself." He sits up to remove his shirt, tossing it aside before reaching for the zipper of your dress. "I wanted you to see how gorgeous you look while I fuck you."

You arch your back to assist him in removing the garment, watching as he pulls it to the ends of your feet. All your body is exposed except for your cunt, which he seems to be saving for last.

You finally feel his touch on your skin, placing your hands over his as they make a map of your figure. You guide him to your tits, rolling your head back into the pillow as he begins to knead them. His eagerness elicits a perfect mixture of pleasure and pain, the pressure just enough to satiate you.

Your fingers card through his hair as he places sloppy, wet kisses on your neck. The strands fall haphazardly over his features as you knock them from their place. When he sits up, you note how much this look suits him— messy hair, pink lips, and a heaving chest.

Disrupting your ogling, your eyes glance down at the bulge in his pants. You let out an impatient whine, reaching for it. As your fingertips graze the material of his clothes, your wrists are promptly snatched and restrained to the bed.

It all happens so fast, you don't quite realize how he's got you pinned despite both of his hands resting on his thighs in front of you. With furrowed brows, your gaze flits up above your head; a blue, transparent hand holds your wrists down, limbless and airborne. You almost feel silly for not assuming a wizard would use magic— even at a time like this.

"Clever," you cock an eyebrow, sending him a playful grin.

If his face wasn't already flushed, it definitely is now. He seems to get a bit flustered by the praise, smiling back somewhat awkwardly. "I occasionally like to think so."

With that, he begins kissing down towards your navel, his palms running along the sides of your body as he does so. He uses a light, teasing touch, making your skin react with sensitivity. You writhe in the Mage Hand's grasp, at which he peeks upward with a prideful pull to the corner of his mouth.

Once he reaches just above your underwear, he lifts his head, resulting in your body yearning for the return of his warm breaths. His fingers slip beneath the elastic covering each hip, delicately and smoothly removing the article from your figure. His gaze is fixated on your cunt— how it glistens under the lantern light from the bedside table.

He groans involuntarily at the sight, dipping one of his fingers into your contracting hole. It slides in effortlessly, though your walls squeeze around him in excitement. "Oh, Gods..." he mutters to himself, adding a second finger. It fits snugly, and he separates them inside of you to test how tight you are.

You whine, need prevalent in your tone. "Gale—" you choke back a moan as he begins pumping in and out of you. His pace is slow and agonizing, brushing against your G-spot but lacking the right vigor. He seems to be too deep in his admiration, merely doing it for his own enjoyment. "Gale—" in a show of desperation and faltering patience, you use your feet to buck your hips off the bed. "—I need you. Now."

Your plea snaps him out of his trance. He stops altogether, instead becoming awestruck at the sight of your body teeming with desire as it tugs against its restraint. You pout when he removes his fingers, watching as he pops them into his mouth to clean them. His brows come together as he savors the taste, though he doesn't linger on it for long as he quickly begins fumbling with the waistband of his pants.

He pulls the material from his hips, slinging both that and his underwear to the floor. You watch with blown pupils as his cock springs free, wishing you could run your fingertips down the happy trail on his stomach all the way to his shaft.

Holding your stare, he uses his hand to give himself a few pumps, smearing the excess of precum over his sensitive head. His body jolts slightly from the sensitivity, a small moan bubbling up his throat.

With that, he lowers himself on top of you, and you readily spread your legs for him. His tip finally breaches your entrance, and you let out a sound of relief into his mouth as he kisses you. He starts out slow, but you're not sure if it's for your sake or his. A sharp breath is sucked through his teeth as he fully sheathes himself into your warmth, reveling in how your cunt tries to draw him in further.

"You're not making this easy, are you?" His words come out strained by your ear.

You laugh breathily in response. "Maybe that'll teach you not to be such a tease next time."

With a groan, he begins to move. The bed creaks under every thrust he makes, sending ripple after ripple of pleasure to your core. Lewd noises fill the room as he repeatedly delves into your wet hole, the squelching building with his rhythm. Your legs wrap around his back, trying with all your strength to pull him closer, closer, until you finally feel his base hit your opening.

His head moves to nuzzle against your shoulder, and the reflection of your entangled bodies on the ceiling is made visible to you. You watch his back flex with every movement, noting how he completely loses himself between your legs; every now and then you'll see the tendons in his hands bulge as he grips the sheets, or how he kisses your collarbone to cover up a moan.

In your infatuation, you remember him mentioning the mirror being there for you to watch yourself, not him. Your eyes flit back to your face, almost surprised by who's staring back at you— stray hairs decorate your features, your brows are kneaded together in ecstasy, and your puffy, swollen lips are parted to accommodate your ragged panting— you’ve never seen yourself look so out of sorts. In fact, something about it turns you on more.

Just look at what he's done to you, how he's made you unravel for him. He has you restrained to the bed like you're his whore, and you don't even fight it. He begins to fuck you faster, harder, chasing an orgasm, all the while you lie there and let him have his way with you.

The coils in the bed groan as he pounds into you, his grunts continuously more audible than the last. The muscles in his arms tense repeatedly, riddling his limbs with ridges of definition. His rhythm begins to stutter, the motion of his hips getting sloppy with need; there's a desperation to him that tells you he's close.

You arch your lower back so that each of his needy thrusts hits your G-spot, forcing a loud moan from your chest. The persistent stimulation has your core tightening and a pit forming in your stomach as you anticipate your high. You take in a few shallow breaths before throwing your head back, your second orgasm violently ripping through you. Your body squirms uncontrollably beneath him, digging your nails into your palms.

He has a front row seat to your symphony of pleasure, each mewl like heaven to his ears. "I love the sounds you make," he praises, wishing he had the blessing of hearing you like this more often.

As if hoping to draw out his climax now, your velvety walls spasm and tighten around him, pulling moan after moan from his lips. "I want you to cum," you whimper against his ear, your voice shaky from his relentless pace. "Cum for me. Please."

He falls apart under your coaxing. Letting out a choked sound of euphoria, he reluctantly pulls himself from you. You gasp at the sudden feeling of emptiness while he finishes onto your stomach, watching how he throws his head back and bucks his hips with each spurt of cum.

Layers of warm seed spread across your heaving abdomen. The magic binding your hands almost immediately breaks, turning into a cloud of blue that fizzles into nothing. Your aching wrists fall haphazardly to your sides, too exhausted from remaining in that position to move again.

After a moment of recuperation, he stumbles to his feet, grabbing a towel by the bath before soaking it with the warm water inside. When he returns, he sits on the side of the bed, gently and delicately wiping up the mess he'd left on you.

He looks so focused while he cleans, making sure the rag doesn't leave anything behind. You can't help fawning at his concentration, a soft smile finding its way onto your face. He glances up once before doing a double take, not expecting to find you staring. He laughs, albeit a little awkwardly.

He then picks up your tired wrists and massages them, leaving a small peck on each. You assume that's his way of 'kissing it better'.

Once he's done, he leaves the cloth in a damp wad on the nightstand. Flopping onto the bed with a hand supporting his head, he turns to look at you. "So… shall we do it in the bath next?"

[little-pondhead]

Oops.

While learning to control his powers under the guidance of Clockwork, Danny accidentally curses his own bloodline with the Curse of Sentient Food several centuries in the past. Originally, a witch was supposed to curse his family. Oops. Well, the Fentons were always adapting, and technically, either way, he'd end up battling dino nuggets at three am in his underwear, no matter who the curse came from. So he shrugged and continued on.

Unfortunately, this also means that out of nowhere, the timeline shifted, and some of his very distant relatives are now battling their food into submission at every meal because Danny is ultimately way more powerful than some mortal witch from the 1600s. His version of the curse reached literally everyone he could ever be related to for the last few centuries. Even if they were adopted into the family!

So, returning to the present time after training, Danny is a little startled to see some news clips of people's dinners coming to life and beginning revolutions. Wow, John Fentonightingale really got around, didn't he? He felt a little uncomfortable that now all these random people had to deal with their share of Fenton luck, but from some of the interviews, everyone seemed to be handling it pretty well!

Especially his so-distant-they're-on-another-tree cousins, the Kents, who contacted his family directly, asking how best to prepare a zombie turkey. Their son was coming for Thanksgiving with his new wife and some coworkers, and they just refused to make the guests fight for their lives on a holiday!

They invited the Fentons to join them, of course.