#wet bark

[lilcute-lilcrazy]

I need casual dominance. So badly

A hand in the back of my neck when we're out. I get a squeeze when I need to shut up.

A hand on my lower back, or on my thigh, resting close to my cunt. A constant reminder who it belongs to.

Want my outfits picked out for me. Or how I should do my hair

Wanna ask permisson for going out, for drinking/smoking, etc.

Orders for when to touch myself and when not. When I can cum, when I edge. When I wear panties and when I'm not allowed

Getting rewards when I do good.

Outfit checks and pictures whenever they demand it

Maybe even a rough bed time or reminders to drink water.

Not in the controlling way but the caring way. I wanna turn my little head off and just trust that I'm being taken care of while being good for my owner. Im their little pet, they take care of me and in return I am theirs entirely

[cottoncandyofterror]

I’m aliiiive!

And I’m bringing the gift of way too long movie scene redrawings!

This is from the terrific movie „Your name engraved herein“ and it’s just ❤️

Okay, bye! *goes back into hiding*

[cupcakeinat0r]

Oh my God??????????????????? Lord I’m bout to bust.

(Creds to @/onikeru426 on Twitter !!)

[nomazee]

Um hello! Is the 1k event thingy still up?? If so I would like to request a classmate! Dr ratio x reader at 2:47 am?

it's actually sickening how much fun i had with this i was giggling at my own jokes while typing this out... this was so fun to write THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!!!

my 1k event!

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A blaring, aggravating, shrill sound wakes you up. Your hands go to cover your ears, protecting your sanity from the noise ringing somewhere from the tangle of sheets on your bed. Hands flailing around desperately to find the source of the piercing chimes, you writhe around in agony until you finally latch onto your phone. 

The brightness of the screen digs into your corneas as you lift up the device to see the caller ID of whoever had the guts to bother you on a school night. 

It comes to no surprise that the caller name reads “VERITAS FUCKING RATIO” in all caps with no contact photo. Your eye twitches and the grip on your phone tightens, just a hair away from leaving finger-shaped dents in the metal. 

Begrudgingly, you answer the call, tucking the phone next to your ear with nothing less than displeasure. “Veritas. Why are you calling me at—” you pull your phone back to check, “—almost three in the morning?” 

“The works cited page,” Veritas Fucking Ratio informs you matter-of-factly. There’s no hint of sleepiness in his voice, nothing that could possibly chip away at his good image, of course. “You did it in the wrong format. It’s supposed to be APA. This is a science project, not a literature project.” 

You might kill him. The project in question is to be presented tomorrow— today at ten in the morning. Ratio and you had been working on it for an entire two weeks, broken up into intermittent hour-long sessions because he was adamant that you split up the work instead of rushing to do it all the night before. Stupid self-righteous gorgeous beautiful academic genius-freak. Yeah, it definitely helped you in the long run, but he acted so sanctimonious about it that you refused to admit the benefits. 

“Veritas,” you imbue the syllables of his name with poison, as much as you can when you’re swaying as you sit up on your bed and fighting demons to not fall back asleep. “This is such an easily-fixed thing. Do you know what time it is right now? Why are you even awake? You know, I am supposed to get a full seven hours of sleep every night, and I was already cutting it short today, and you woke me up before I could even hit REM sleep. Do you know how upsetting this is? Fix the goddamn works cited yourself!” 

For once, Veritas is at a loss for words. The other end of the line is so quiet that you have to double check and make sure he hasn’t just hung up on you. Perspiration builds on your palms, thinking that this is it—this is the exact moment that you make Veritas-Fucking-Ratio snap and delete your name off the project credit slide, and you’re going to get a 0 because he will wipe off any evidence of your work from this plane of existence, and you will spend the rest of your measly life chasing after your MLA-turned-APA works cited page, too-little-too-late. 

“I’m awake because the— well.” He pauses, and his voice sounds so far away and unobtrusive that you’re almost worried. Your breath stills in the middle of your diaphragm. Waiting. “The works cited is one thing. But I wanted you to look at the slides, if you can.” 

If you can, he says, as if he’s giving you a choice, which he literally never has during this entire process. You had no role in choosing the topic, or the slide theme, or what days you worked on the project, or how often you worked on the project (because god forbid you procrastinate a little bit, right?!), but now, at almost three in the morning, Veritas is saying something along the lines of oh please my dearest project partner, I request that you open the Google Slides at once, but only if you would like to! I would never infringe on your free will at three in the morning, because I respect you as a partner. Or something like that. That was pretty much the gist of it. 

A raspy sigh escapes you, and you claw your busted laptop off the nightstand next to you, opening it up and squinting at the LED screen as you punch in your passcode. “You know, I have done a good job at going along with all of your whims, Veritas, the least you could do is fix the works cited for me. Seriously, how did you even miss that? You’re so detail-oriented, but you didn't even realize the format was wrong until tonight? Who even cares, seriously… it’s just a slideshow…” 

Your voice trails off as the slideshow presentation finally loads in. You see Veritas’ default profile picture blink in the upper right-hand corner, signaling that he’s viewing the slideshow with you. The slideshow which has apparently undergone a huge makeover. 

It’s—pleasant to look at. This entire time, you and Veritas had been editing a default, white-background black-serif-font-text slideshow. He refused to change it, telling you that it’s unprofessional to do anything too embellished, to which you fruitlessly said, Veritas, we will die early deaths because of the hole in the ozone layer, would you at least make it easier on my poor soul by letting me choose a pokemon-theme slide? Veritas had pretended like he couldn't hear you (in a very quiet library room, mind you), but the twitch in his brow gave him away. 

Now, though, the slides are decorated. It’s a really nice theme, complete with custom icons and graphic blobs of color—your favorite color, might you add. It’s—pretty. Dare you say, cute, but you think Veritas would vaporize your entire presentation if you called it cute. 

“Did you— this— did you pay for this slide theme?” 

“You— n— mn,” he trails off into an unintelligible mash of mumbling, and you hear a loud THUD that sounds awfully like the phone being thrown onto a mattress. Fabric shuffles around, before you hear Veritas’ voice again, clear and composed. “Sorry. I dropped my phone.” What a loser, and a liar, and an endearing freak. You really wish he video called you because you need to see his totally-very-ugly face. 

“I thought this was unprofessional, Veritas,” you say teasingly, a smile lining your words as you try not to giggle right into the phone. “What made you have a change of heart?” 

“Nothing,” the typical firmness of his voice has returned, much to your dismay. “The works cited is still wrong. You have to fix it.” 

“Oh, whatever you say, honored Ratio,” you open up your trusty citation-generator, ready for a long fifteen minutes of copying and pasting information. “Hey, you must be free after class tomorrow, right? Since the project is pretty much over, right?” 

“Yes,” Veritas answers after a moment of hesitation, only a hint of doubt in his voice. 

“That’s great. Keep your schedule clear, then.” 

(You fix the works cited slide, wish Veritas sweet dreams, and then wake up in the morning to completely ace your presentation. The minute the period ends, you drag him out of the classroom and into a coffee shop, paying for some five dollar pastry and joking that it’s payback for the cute slideshow theme that he definitely paid five dollars for. Veritas is an awful liar, and you tell him that, and he can’t even find the strength to deny it.)

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gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin

fill out my event taglist (pinned) or general taglist (navi) to be tagged in upcoming works!

[grizzly-bear-official]

every wednesday my tumblr becomes borderline unusable because of all the wet beast wednesday notifications. keep up the good work brave soldiers

[domwitch]

When you live with roommates so you have to fuck him in the laundry room with the washing machine on to drown out his moans 😖😖

[darkcarnivalcomic]

page 277, chapter 6

i don’t think it’s a great idea to be so stubborn when you clearly need medical attention but zach thankfully seems to be finally getting a handle on things

[dumbandowned]

literally you get so much from free as long as youre interesting but unfortunately some of these men are so bad at dirty talk its insane 💔💔💔 queer thots and hoes and pups and kittens and doms and subs and daddies pleaseeeeeeeeeeee mutual me and we can support each others posts.......

[ace-slutt]

oopsie I squirted thru my boxers 😖

be honest, are they ruined?

he/it

[ouppy-bnuuy]

You guys know what time it is

WET BEAST WEDNESDAY EVERYONE!!

[kindahoping4forever]

🗣️👋🏻🇵🇹📍🏟️🐂🐂🤷🏼‍♂️🔛🥁⏳

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i love my curse user!reader sm because they’re soooo fucking pathetic . they have beef with several children . they live with their ex. said ex has two daughters who want them Gone. they can only sleep comfortably if they’re hugging one of their curses. they pick a fight with everyone they interact with (and laugh while getting their ass beat.) they’re sooooo lonely. they reject help they reject healing they still stare at suguru’s smile in the only picture they have of him. etcetc

[goodpvppy]

teach me new tricks but do it in your native tongue that i do not understand so i’ll have to be a real good boy for you.

praise me for taking you so well in a language i do not understand so when i hear it in a casual setting i’ll have to stifle a moan and whimper as i’m just a dumb puppy already conditioned to your words

[grizzly-bear-official]

Wet Beast Wednesday is upon us again lads

[creaturetongue]

can't get over Izzy bouncing back. surviving first because of others and then because of himself, from a choice he made /for/ himself.

indestructible little fucker. tenacious to the point that mother fucking Blackbeard is surprised to see you on your feet.

[sammaggs]

3x03 I Coulda Been a Defendant | Please

Two at twelve o’clock! Three at one o’clock! Four at five o’clock!