#what is it with me and fruit seeds

[bugsoda]

[lowcallyfruity]

I GOT POMEGRANATE!!!!!!

[primordialruin]

I don't think Lilith and Lucifer gave Eve the gift of knowledge/free will. Feels more like the gift of defiance. Knowing good and evil are experiences you either live through and/or give to someone else, which is a knowledge that is earned rather than learned about. You can be aware of the vilest things from just hearing about it, but if you don't have an inner experience that relates in the tiniest way to the pain within another in order to compare it to, then why would it have an impact on you? There's also the caveat where you will subconsciously eliminate relatability due to traumatic experiences which can block empathy, or in the case of those who are born with low levels of affective empathy, that can also pose a challenge. (Cognitive empathy can be learned tho) Caveats aside, if I don't know what negativity feels like, how am I expected to empathize? If I don't have a frame of reference for frustration, my response/reaction will be at best dulled and detached when I learn about an evil deed. Compassion can be built, but that's a social emotion meant to build and maintain networks. And frankly, compassion can easily exist without empathy. There is this thing called loving kindness in Buddhism that encompasses it.

When it comes to defiance, you are enabling yourself to commit an act against something, someone or yourself. It creates polarity and a ripple effect that I believe continues to echo on Earth through humans committing defiant acts all the time UNLESS there is a big enough counterforce to stop it. I believe it takes great inner strength to genuinely forgive something and move onto better pastures with or without the source that has created pain, though you have to be careful not to fall into apathy and numbness. Forgiveness isn't about dulling yourself to remove the pain. Forgiveness is finding worth in investing your energy into something that brings you a better life experience. It's a new type of emotional reality that you are developing in which the hurtful baggage of the past can't coexist anymore, so you let it go. Like, say a friend hurt you, but you find worth in rebuilding a friendship with them because they've done the work to prove themselves a reliable connection. Of course you can also forgive and move on without them. Both are good as long as the hurt was processed properly to be released. Now that's a mild example because atrocities are not on the same level as a broken friendship. The latter come and go and some return, while the former is extremely complex to move on from, but not impossible. Cases of it exist. They're probably unpopular, but they exist.

Now, defiance can also be a good thing depending on the context. Such as, defying a tyrant's system of oppression, but once again - that's still an act of evil because you cannot have good without it. Good cannot exist without polarity unfortunately. The good you do onto someone is evil to someone else and vice versa. That's where consideration and discernment comes into place. Consequences reach everyone one way or another... Black and white melts together, forming various shades of grey. Think of the spider metaphor - what is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly.

But back to defiance. What is defiance if not a type of sabotage? You defy someone's right to safety by jeopardizing it to meet your needs. That's what evil is. It comes from unreliability which is what I feel has made the whole thing blow up with Lucifer's dangerous ideas that defy Heaven's reliable order, Lilith's defiance in the face of authority and her enabling Lucifer to be as dangerous as he wanted to be, and them enabling & inviting Eve to commit an act of defiance too. It's the dichotomy that was the evil that created Hell.

[playingplayer2]

Childhood shenanigans and acts of assholery of mine include:

Vicious Mockery of a teenage boy (our neighbor) who egged our house with his friend while they were cleaning the wall off (punishment decided on and approved of by the adults). I kept going past them on my little baby tricycle (I was maybe 4? 5? I was under 6) and making disparaging comments all the while. Bro looked like he was gonna pop a blood vessel before my mother noticed and shoo-ed me and my sibling away.

Around the same age I spent, like, at least an hour, maybe two, pestering this guy, a bit younger than my parents, at some get together my parents went to w/ their friends (and their friend's friends, of which, this poor dude was). I think I definitely made him seriously consider ever having kids because I was the embodiment of asking "why" and "unwitting adult who had just agreed to be my storytime audience" at that age, poor man was not doing well by the end. I think he may have been the only adult there completely unfamiliar with me, so in my little head he was akin to blood in the water for a shark or smth.

Had whole ass escape plans, down to the minute detail of exactly whose yards to cut through, where to use the back alleyways, and where to use the main streets in case of emergencies (kick-started by my father being an abusive fuck, cemented by our house being broken into one day while said abusive fuck was at work and we (mother, sibling, and me) were at said house). Alas police officers really do tend to poke holes into 7 year olds plans by virtue of longer legs and a willingness to assault small children. (There was a house about two blocks down (veeeeeery long street with multiple intersections) with, like, at least 4 cats and that was the end goal, alas.)

Speaking of seven year olds, clearly, the obvious answer to adults hurting you via enabling an abusive father is absolutely to make snow balled filled with rocks and ice and aiming for the face. I'd know, I did that. Unfortunately a 10-15 foot distance might be a bit of a feat at that age.

Also tricking a class of 9-10 year olds into bowing to a dragon tapestry in the hallway because they Won't Stop Bullying You is always funny, especially when you're the only one in the class who'd know if you're lying or not. (Being Chinese does not, in fact, mean you need to bow to every dragon you see as a sign of respect for the gods, but it sure was funny, and no, the dragon will not curse you for forgetting to bow.)

Very pointedly asking another kid about her crush on one of our classmates a la interview style at lunch because she'd done something similar to me a week prior. (She came up to me and told me it was "for an interview," before asking me point blank "how does it feel that no one wants to play with you any more since so-and-so came back to this school?" Before kind of leading the whole excluding-me-from-everything bit. Which. Was fun... So like a week later after we found out that her crush and friend would be moving states over the summer, I asked her at lunch if she was "ever going to tell blah-blah-blah that she liked him." At lunch. With our whole 3rd grade class. It wasn't my nicest move, but also literally everyone knew, including her crush/friend. But we were also all 9 or 10. So. Yeah.

In conclusion, I was a little shithead.

[bunny-jpeg]

john price would trap you with a baby. no questions asked. he knew the years were catching up to him. he knew that wouldn't be much longer before he couldn't pass on the price genes.

he felt bad when he masturbated, felt like he was wasting his boys. spurts of hot cum down his large shaft wishing that it was inside a pretty little things smaller cunt. his hand was too rough even with lubrication. he needed something with supple flesh that he could sink his teeth into and a wet pussy to stuff full. he wanted to feel himself impregnating someone.

that was where you came in.

you felt amazing, sex with you was something else. the way you were like a bunny when you rode his cock. you bounced on him, not slowing down until he wrung at least three orgasms out of you. he found it endearing that you could take him. and while cowgirl was fun and missionary felt classic.

if price wanted to get you pregnant then, he knew that doggy style would be the best course of action. sadly, that position was a little more difficult given your size difference. price the bear and his little cub, those weren't just terms of endearment. he was burly, hairy, but you were so much shorter that he couldn't easily slip into you. but things could always be modified.

he smothered you under him as you laid on the bed with your legs spread and price was on top of you with his cock invading your slick entrance. the feeling was different and the weight on top of you only added to the pleasure.

his mind was focused, as he worked himself into you. he slid in easily, little resistance from you. your pussy was greedy for him, not that price could blame you. you were just so perfect for him. he shaped you into the perfect thing for him. you were his angel, the sweetest fruit, the woman he wanted to carry his child. if you liked it or not.

thoughts of you dark puffy nipples, the waddle in your step, the complaints of back pain. how your body changed because of him, he marked you in a way that no other man could. price boys grew strong and were a handful both in the womb and out. hungry boys too, but price would happily massage your fat tits to make sure there was more than enough milk for his boys. might have a little taste himself, see what all the fuss was. the heavy milk on his tongue as he fucked his pretty wife.

no need to go out and find a job. price's got enough to make sure that your wallet and your womb were packed full. no need to worry your little head, just make sure the babies are taken care of and price will do all the thinking in the relationship. he knew your dream was to see your diploma on the wall, but he thought that a family photo would be much better.

hard to complete your degree when your pregnant belly doesn't fit in the lecture hall seat or it was feeding time for john jr. there was nowhere for you to nurse his hefty son and you'd in the end miss too much class because price would be keeping you at home to start on the next one.

"that's it, doll. that's my girl. she suckin' me right in. she know what she wants and she's takin' it. made just for, huh, petal?" he growled as he pressed into you further, his cock didn't slip out. he fucked you feverishly.

he felt you tremble as you came not once, but twice, back to back. price continued to fuck you, ruin your pretty little folds and let him feel as much as he could of your sweet sex. you felt amazing, only pussy price would want. he fucked you roughly with his hands pressed into the covers on either side of your head. you were too blissed out by the time he finished inside of you that you didn't even ask for him to pull out.

a good wife took every drop.

he soon after pulled his cock out, the sight of his cum sticking to your slick pussy lips with most of his seed inside of you. made his cock peek at attention once more. "there she is." he purred, "messy girl." he tipped your hips up and held them in his large hands. he dipped between your legs and played with your pussy. something to distract you while his cum slid into the back of your pussy.

now be good, and get pregnant <3

a/n: i don't know what came over me... i'm sorry

[pitstain]

the downside of getting my life together is i feel like a pathetic worthless dog constantly begging for a treat

[sparrows4bats]

Pretty Damian is killing me. @ghostly-bat @bizzylosingcats I hope you enjoy the fruits of the seeds you have sown in my mind.

Damian grows up to look like Talia more and more. He still has his Dad's jawline and brows, but that is Talias Baby! By the time he is an adult, he has Talias nose and cheekbones. Her skintone and green eyes. When he forgets to get his hair cut, his mother's waves appear. When he smiles, it is an Al ghul grin.

Due to being vegetarian and training with Dick and Talia the most, Damian is lithe and flexible. Built for speed and stealth. He doesn't have the bulk of his brothers and stops growing at 5 foot 10, a respectable height even if Jon keeps resting his chin on his head!

Overall, Damian is a supermodel in the making he just doesn't realise it, but it's not his fault. All of the Wayne's are ridiculously good-looking, and Damian never notices his pretty privilege because he chalks the stuff people do for him up to him being a Wayne. He doesn't view people and physical appearance like that, so the idea they are hitting on him doesn't even cross his mind.

His family doesn't realise how big an issue this is until Damian shows up to a Wayne Gala dressed to nines for the first time in years.

Since starting his paediatric and Truama Surgery specialities, Damian has pretty much lived in scrubs, and when he is not working, he's in pyjamas trying to rest as much as possible before his next shift.

So, when Bruce forces them all to attend the Wayne Gala, Damain asks Stephanie and Cass to pick out his outfit for him because he's busy.

The girls get him a fitted black suit with a deep green dress shirt that is artfully unbuttoned to show off his collar bone. He is adorned in gold jewellery and has subtle kohl around his eyes to complete the look.

When he enters the Gala, he captures the awe and attention of everybody. The socialites crowd around Dr Wayne, much to the horror of his family.

Dick spends the night rescuing Damian from his admirers.

Tim pays attention to who gets a little too close and decides on a few little investigations later.

Jason punches a guy who tries to grope him.

Bruce is inundated with blind date requests and even arranged marriage proposals. It's the first time he has been considering getting drunk for real at a party.

The girls are proud of themselves and terrified of what they have released into the world.

Duke spends the party helping Damian hide with his powers.

The issue is that it doesn't stop after the Gala. Photos of Damian are leaked to the press, and Gotham goes wild!

A young prodigy doctor who works with underprivileged children! And he looks like that! There's fan pages up in minutes.

He's an animal lover?! Well, now his pets all have fan pages, too!

Damian Wayne is out trending his entire family and said family are losing their collective mind!

They hate it. If they see one more thirst post, Oracle is going to start ruining lives! (Damian, who, other than looking at art pages, does not use social media, is blissfully ignorant of it all.)

It gets worse when the heroes meet Dr Wayne one day. They know Robin retired, and those who know the batfamilys identify know Damian went to school, but no one has seen him in a while.

No one is prepared for the re introduction.

During a potentially world ending event, Superman gets injured. They can't get to the internal injuries because of the inpeneratable skin, and there's a lump of kryptonite lodged somewhere inside of him. And instead of panicking or trying to help, his son flies off.

Everyone is so confused. Until he returns minutes later carrying a man in a white coat.

"Everyone stand back now!"

Batman and his team obey instantly; forcing everyone else to do the same. Superboy lets the man go as he runs to the fallen Superman.

Then, he takes out a medical kit from seemingly nowhere and inspects the wound. "Jon I'm going to need you to hold him still while I sedate him."

It's only after the surgery began that they noticed all of the instruments glow green.

"It's done, but he needs yellow sun," the stranger turns to the crowd that's gathered. "Is anyone else hurt?"

They all freeze at the sight of green eyes, messy hair, and a perfect face. Slowly, all hands go up.

The gorgeous man sighs, "Batman, Nightwing, I need you to grab med bags 7 A and 8 B. They are stocked for Metas and Diagnostic Use."

Both men glare at them but do as they are told.

"Now I want everyone to form a line, Spoiler can you help with triage?" The purple vigilante nods.

The doctor is there for hours and sees each one of them. Many blush as he examines them.

Superboy, meanwhile, hovers over his father and glares the entire time.

The Bats guard the doctor but listen to his every demand. (Apparently, they were hiding their own injuries. The beautiful man berates them all while stitching them up and force feeding Red Robin pills.)

When they leave, many have a lot of questions, many looking for his number.

Nightwing, Batman, and Superboy look especially pissed when Blue Beetle asks him for it.

The pretty doctor appears a few more times always accompanied by the Bats and the Supers. (Many heros try to catch his attention, but Batman always seems to know when they cause their injuries on purpose.)

Jon is pissed. When he went and got Damian for his Dad, he never expected it to go like this!

He sees how the others look at Damian, how they try to impress him, and wants to drag his Robin from the Watchtower immediately.

Where was this admiration when Damian was Robin? When he was literally killing himself to be a good leader, a good hero? They didn't want him, either of them, then. They don't deserve him now.

So Jon does something he should have done years ago and asks Damian Wayne on a date. He is so lucky he says yes.

Their dating life is so easy, so natural it feels like they can breathe easier even though they didn't realise they were struggling before.

Jon gets to wooing the love of his life. It's not hard, but God is it fun to do all the things he has wanted to do for Damian for years.

And Damian apparently does the same. He calls it courting and, for some reason, doesn't freak out when Jon proposes after two months. Their parents sure do, but They dont know that Jon was going to propose after the second date. This was restraint. (Damian was planning his own proposal, but his custom order ring took too long.)

But Jon is blissful, and so is Damian. And no one really blames him after they meet his fiance.

The Next Gala Bruce makes sure to invite the League when they announce their engagement publicly. Jon withstands the envy just fine with his beautiful Robin by his side.

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

More thoughts about Lion!Mydei: He takes reader home and provides her with food, love, a safe place and protects her from the others predator. Then when the night comes, he will keep breeding and breeding her all over again until she’s nothing but a dumb cockdrunk little rabbit ><

✧ tws : nsfw/smut, breeding kink, size kink/difference, multiple of rounds, c*ckdrunk reader, overstimulation, mating/possessive behaviour, marking (biting & claiming), claws & fangs, c*mflation, mild dumbification and degradation ( mydei calls you dumb).

The first time Mydei found you, you were trembling, small and fragile, a soft little bunny lost in a world far too dangerous for you. He had been watching, waiting, his golden eyes locked onto you as you struggled to find shelter. A weak, defenseless thing like you wouldn’t last long—not with predators lurking in the shadows, waiting to sink their teeth into your delicate flesh.

But Mydei got to you first.

He took you home, carried you in his strong arms, his powerful frame making you feel even smaller. His den was warm, hidden deep within the cliffs where no one could reach you. The moment he placed you inside, you knew you weren’t leaving. You belonged to him now.

And he took care of you.

Every day, he brought you food—the sweetest fruits, the softest greens, everything you needed to stay healthy and satisfied. He kept you wrapped in his warmth, his massive body curled around you, shielding you from the outside world. No harm would ever come to you, not while he was here. No one would ever touch you—not when you were his.

But when the sun dipped below the horizon, when night fell and the world grew quiet, Mydei’s patience snapped.

You barely had time to react before you were on your back, your mate looming over you, his sharp claws gripping your hips as he spread you open beneath him. His golden eyes burned with hunger, his strong body pressing you down, trapping you under his sheer size.

“So soft,” he murmured, dragging his sharp teeth along your neck, marking you with gentle bites. “So weak. My little bunny… what would you do without me?”

You gasped, your body trembling as he pushed inside—stretching you, filling you too deep, making you feel so small, so helpless beneath him. He didn’t wait, didn’t give you a chance to adjust. He never did.

Mydei was starved for you.

His cock bullied its way into your tight, wet heat, forcing you to take every inch, to mold around his size as he fucked you into the nest of soft leaves and furs he had prepared just for you. His growls rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating against your skin as he pounded into you, forcing your body to accept all of him.

“Look at you,” he groaned, his claws dragging down your waist, gripping you like he would never let you go. “So small, so weak—yet you take my cock so perfectly. My perfect little mate.”

“Nn—hnn, lion, ‘m feelin’ funny.”

Your thoughts were slipping, your body melting under the relentless pleasure. Mydei had already filled you up so many times tonight, his hot seed dripping from your swollen cunt, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Not until you were bred.

Not until your belly was swollen with his cubs, proof that you belonged to him in every way. Your tongue lolled out, you big fluffy ears twitching, as your brain became even more mush.

Your moans were nothing but broken little noises, your legs trembling as he fucked you into dumb, mindless bliss. Your body was his to ruin, his to fill, and he wouldn’t stop—not until you were nothing but a cockdrunk little bunny, too full of his cum to think, too weak to move.

“D-Don’—ohhhh, lio-lionyyy, s’ too much—!”

“Shh, my little bunny,” he purred, his voice dripping with possessive hunger. “Just let me breed you. That’s all you need to do.”

And with another deep thrust, he did.

Your body ached.

Your legs trembled, spread wide as Mydei’s thick cock stretched your pussy all over again, filling you too deep, hitting a spot that made your mind melt into nothing but hot, needy pleasure. His claws pressed into your hips, holding you still as he rutted into you, forcing your tight little hole to take everything he gave.

“Such a good little bunny,” he groaned, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. “You were made for this—made to take my cock, made to be bred.”

Your head lolled to the side, drool slipping from the corner of your lips as your eyes rolled back. You couldn’t think anymore, not with how good he felt, how full you were. His cock stretched you to the limit, stuffing you over and over, making sure you felt nothing but him. Your dumb little brain melted into nothing but pleasure.

His pace was brutal, his heavy balls slapping against your sticky, messy pussy, already so swollen from how many times he had filled you tonight. You had lost count of how many times he had bred you, how many times he had pushed his thick cum inside, but Mydei didn’t care.

It wasn’t enough

It would never be enough.

One of his big hands slid down your belly, pressing down just as he thrust deep, making you cry out at how full you were. His cock twitched inside you, buried so far that you could feel the bulge in your stomach.

“Feel that?” he purred, his sharp teeth dragging over your shoulder before he bit down, claiming you all over again. “That’s me. That’s my cock inside your pretty little pussy, making sure you’re stuffed full of my seed.”

You let out a broken whimper, your body twitching as pleasure surged through you, as your clit throbbed from the overwhelming sensation. Mydei loved it—loved how dumb you got when he fucked you like this, loved the way your pussy clenched around him, trying to milk him for more.

“My dumb little bunny,” he chuckled, his voice full of pride as he dragged a rough finger down to your clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles. “All cockdrunk and needy, aren’t you? You don’t even care anymore—just want my cum, want me to breed you until you’re too full to move.”

You screamed when he rubbed your clit harder, sending you into another orgasm, your pussy tightening around him as you came. But Mydei didn’t stop—he never stopped.

His cock throbbed, his thrusts turning messy as he growled against your skin, his grip tightening as he bred you all over again.

“Take it,” he groaned, his pace turning desperate as his cock pulsed inside you. “Take all of it, little bunny—take my seed like the perfect mate you are.”

And when he spilled inside you—hot, thick ropes of cum flooding your pussy, filling you so deep—he didn’t pull out. He just held you close, rolling his hips slowly, making sure every drop stayed inside.

You were too weak to move, too cockdrunk to do anything but let him keep you there, plugged full of his cum, his cock still hard inside you.

And Mydei? He smirked, pressing a possessive kiss to your forehead.

“You’re not done yet, little bunny,” he murmured, rolling his hips just enough to make you whimper. “We’re going all night.”

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[seumyo]

pregnancy cravings with miya atsumu.

Pregnancy cravings never really made sense to Atsumu. Then again, he never got to the part of anatomy and physiology when he was studying physical therapy before he decided to go pro as a volleyball player.

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t supportive; no, he prided himself on being a great husband. And now, with you, his wife, pregnant with your first child, he was determined to be the most supportive, loving, and accommodating partner ever.

Nothing was going to stand in his way—not distance, not logic, and certainly not impossible cravings.

It started simple. Like it always did.

You wanted a specific pastry from a bakery on the other side of Japan? Done. He booked the fastest delivery service he could find, and when that wasn’t an option, he flew there himself, picked it up, and brought it back.

Talk about rich.

Homemade food? Good thing Osamu had drilled the basics of cooking into him, though he still got yelled at by his twin when he accidentally burned rice. But hey, effort counted, right?

Then, the cravings started getting weird.

You’re sitting on the couch with a blanket over your lap when you look up at him with serious eyes. “I want Osamu’s cooking.”

Atsumu blinked. “Alright, I can ask him—”

“But I don’t want to eat it. You eat it.”

He frowned, confused.

“Huh? Ya want me to eat ‘Samu’s cookin’?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Atsumu scratched his head, wondering if this was some kind of test. “And that’s gonna make ya feel better?”

“Yes.”

“… Even if ya don’ eat it?”

“Uh-huh.”

Atsumu blinked. “That doesn’t make no sense.”

“Atsumu, please don’t question me.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” He grabbed his phone and immediately dialed Osamu. “Oi, ‘Samu, I need ya to cook somethin’—no, not for [Name]—for me.” There was silence on the other end before Osamu sighed heavily and reluctantly agreed.

That night, Atsumu sat at the dining table, stuffing his face with his brother’s food while you sat across from him, smiling in satisfaction as you watched. Osamu just did his part as a supportive brother for his twin.

The next day was even worse.

“A seedless mango,” you murmured, rubbing your belly.

...

“A what?”

“A seedless mango. I want it.”

“… [Name], sweetheart, baby, I love ya, but that don’t exist.”

“It does.”

“It doesn’t.”

“I want it.”

Atsumu groaned. “Where am I gonna get a seedless mango?”

“Figure it out, please?”

He spent hours searching online, calling fruit vendors, and even asking Osamu if his suppliers had some secret black market seedless mango (Osamu asked him if a volleyball that was going 120 km/h hit his head).

No luck.

In the end, Atsumu cut up a normal mango, carefully removed every trace of the seed, and handed it to you with a hopeful grin.

You took one look at it and frowned.

“It’s not the same.”

Atsumu wanted to cry.

-

“I need you to wear a face mask.”

Atsumu blinked at you from your bed. “Huh? Why?”

You huffed quietly, fidgeting with the sheets. “Because your face is annoying.”

Atsumu gasped, hand clutching his chest. “My face?! The one ya love so much?!”

“Yes.”

“The one ya vowed to look at forever in sickness and in health?!”

“Yes.”

“The one ya called ‘beautiful’ when I asked ya if I was hotter than ‘Samu?!”

“I love you, but right now, your face is irritating me.”

Atsumu stared, utterly betrayed, before sighing in defeat. He got up, went to the closet, grabbed one of the disposable masks he’d bought during flu season, and put it on.

“There. Happy now?”

You smiled sweetly. “Very.”

Atsumu flopped onto the bed with a groan, pulling the blanket over himself. As he lay there, sulking, you scooted closer and rested your head on his chest.

“I love you, you know that?” you murmured.

He grumbled. “Ya sure? Feels like ya hate me sometimes.”

You chuckled. “No, I love you. My hormones just don’t.”

He sighed. “Yer so lucky I love ya more than life.”

“I know. Pregnancy is so weird.”

And the worst has yet to come.

-

Atsumu should be asleep by now, but no, he had to be individually popping popcorn. One kernel at a time, as per your request.

He initially told you, “Yer kiddin’.”

You were not.

And that was how Atsumu found himself in the kitchen at three in the morning, painstakingly popping one kernel at a time in a tiny pan. Every time he accidentally popped more than one, you, who were sitting on a stool with your hands on your belly, would click your tongue disapprovingly.

“You put in two, Atsumu.”

“This is torture,” he grumbled, but he kept going.

-

“I want ice cream,” you said.

Atsumu perked up. “Oh, easy. What flavor?”

“I don’t know.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Uh… okay. I can get a few different kinds?”

“I need to taste them all.”

Atsumu frowned. “Like… all the flavors?”

“Yes.”

“… Babe, there are like fifty flavors at the ice cream shop.”

You nodded. “And I need to taste all of them before I decide which one I want.”

Atsumu let out a long, suffering sigh, but being the devoted husband he was, he marched straight to the ice cream parlor and ordered a ridiculous amount of sample cups. The poor employee stared at him in disbelief.

“You… want every flavor?”

“Yeah.”

“Every single one?”

“Yeah.”

“Sir, that’s—”

“My wife is pregnant, and if I don’t do this, I might not make it to the end of the week.”

The employee, upon hearing this, immediately started getting to work.

When Atsumu got home, you took one spoonful of each, nodded, and, after going through every single cup, announced:

“I don’t want ice cream anymore.”

Atsumu fell to his knees. Defeated.

-

“I need you to stand in the corner for a while.”

Atsumu looked up from his phone, confused. “Huh?”

“The corner. Stand there.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I just feel like you should.”

Atsumu squinted. “Babe, are ya makin’ me into a damn decoration?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

Atsumu sighed but did it anyway. He stood in the corner of your living room for a full ten minutes while you sat on the couch, happily watching TV. At some point, Osamu FaceTimed him, took one look at the scene, and hung up.

-

The next day, you called him while he was at practice, which was rare in itself because you did just leave messages whenever you knew he was practicing.

“Babe,” you said in a tone that made his stomach drop.

“… Yeah?”

“I need you to bring me a cheeseburger.”

He let out a relieved laugh, wiping the sweat off his brow. “That’s easy! I’ll grab ya one on my way ho—“

“But replace the buns with pancakes.”

Atsumu froze. “Come again?”

“You heard me.”

“I dunno if I did, sweetheart.”

“Pancakes. Instead of buns. Oh, and I want honey to go with it.”

Atsumu nearly dropped his phone.

“Yer messin’ with me.”

“I’m really not.”

And you weren’t. That evening, he stood in the kitchen, flipping pancakes with the precision of a professional chef before assembling the most unholy creation he’d ever laid eyes on—a cheeseburger with pancake buns, honey drizzled over the meat.

You took a bite and hummed softly. “Oh my god, this is better than sex.”

Atsumu, who had spent hours perfecting his technique in the bedroom, felt personally offended by that.

-

“Atsumu,” you murmur. “I need you to switch sides of the bed with me.”

He sighed. “No.”

“Atsumu.”

“[Name], baby, darlin’—I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because my side is closer to the door in case of an intruder.”

You chuckled quietly. “Tsumu, please. I need to sleep on that side.”

Atsumu stared at you, conflicted. He had never—not once—slept on the other side. It was unnatural. Wrong. It went against the very foundations of your marriage.

But you were looking at him with those tired, hormonal, pleading eyes. And he was sure you’d tell him you could barely see your feet now and often experience heartburn, all because of his unborn baby.

With a heavy sigh, Atsumu switched sides with you.

“You’re a good husband,” you whispered, patting his cheek.

Atsumu, lying in the unfamiliar position, staring at the wrong wall, whispered, “I’m a broken man.”

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

An analysis of the straw hats’ devil fruits! I just think its cool how they’re all based around being human :) This is meant to be a part two of this analysis of this Mera Mera no mi I made a little bit ago.

Thanks so much to @badly-drawn-doflamingo for writing all this with me, they’re so much more eloquent than I am, thank you so much🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Closer pictures and transcription of the text in keep reading

Hana Hana no Mi Flowers bloom under certain conditions, be it weather, sun or care, and the same can be said for humans. What conditions did it take you to bloom, tears, time or the sun that laughs about you?

Hito Hito no Mi Do we get to choose when humanity blossoms within us, or do memory and choiceful guidance allow us the chance to walk, to run, to flourish as man.

Yomi Yomi no Mi: A chance at life through death, allowing that chance demise to be the seeding place for a continuing promise. Does the hoary earth need more than a body to revive the soul, or should sunlight come by its side?

Nika The heartbeat that carries your dreams beside it’s own humanity creates a hopeful beat. A drumming sensation that allows these two ideals to dance together, discordant like a ball of lightening, snapping and sparking in place. These conduits create the building desire of liberation, opening the heart’s windows to the sun above. What happens when the sun itself becomes filled with that very human need of liberation, when its flames begin to cast new light on our faces.. All you can do is laugh!

[oceantornadoo]

persephone (simon riley x f!reader) age gap, a bit coercive, dark

—

it started with fruit.

you were simon riley’s secretary, working for a man clouded in darkness and gold. you’d hear whispers on the street, see pitying faces when you mentioned who you worked for to strangers. to them, he was a cold, hard beast. to you, he was a king.

he started by bringing you fruit, pomegranate seeds and ghost-white pears. small quips about eating healthy now while you were still young enough. ms twenty something meets mr not-yet middle aged, the lines of his face just starting to crease but the beer belly nowhere to be found. he mined diamonds, you heard. he owned cemeteries, said another secretary. they call him ghost, whispered a personal assistant. you didn’t care, didn’t need to when that wasn’t your job.

he had scarred hands, craggly things winding into the cuff of his midnight black suits. didn’t wear a mask but always seemed to be covered in darkness, his face unrecognizable in half lit rooms and empty offices. he always stayed late so you did too, indulging in the extra car he ordered for you, his driver called charon. simon never held long conversations but simply beckoned you, some string in your belly pulling tight at his recognition. at least a third of his day spent with you, murmuring soft nothings, inquiring about your mother and the upcoming winter, the beauty in the death of the trees. “y’ smell like spring, love.” he’d said one morning, and you resolved to wear that same pomegranate spritz indefinitely.

and then it moved to jewels. congratulations on your one year preceded by a tennis bracelet. a trinket of a three headed dog, something small to keep on your desk. the hours draw on later and later, canceled plans with your mother and nymph-like friends piling up like leaves. his touch starts lingering, hard calluses on soft skin.

a hand on your back, guiding you into a conference room. your hair brushing against his torso, the intimacy of it jarring. you twisted your ankle one day, the height of your heels overindulgent. ended up on the couch in his private office, his hands massaging your foot. “like a delicate flower.” he’d murmured, rewarding you with an anklet of diamonds once the pain wore off.

three years in, an invite to his private island. no service, leave your phone at home. sign an nda, we’ll work remote, gone for a month maybe more. pack some nice clothes, maybe a white dress if you’ve got one. take my card if you don’t.

stepping off the helicopter, charon at the helm. you weren’t there against your will but the hairy arm around your waist was heavy, a reminder of the cost you’d paid to visit the underworld. two weeks in and you couldn’t even act surprised when he proposed, on one knee with a glint in his eyes. “you and me, love, against th’ world.”

and if you said yes to the fruit, the diamonds, the care, the attention - saying yes to this was just the next step. an elopement, he’d already drawn up the license - “why wait, dove? y’r so fragile already.” you’re not, have a hidden strength under you, but ghost doesn’t care, ghost takes what he wants, and you, legs spread and eyes soft, are it.

when he fucks you, that’s when it’s settled. cunt dripping on his fingers, his face, his cock. he mutters something about a vasectomy and you’re taking him bare, making eye contact with a ghostlike gardener who walks past the window. your jaw unhinged, drool at the corner of your mouth as he fucks you from behind, one hand on your throat.

“such a good secretary, hm?” and you nod ferociously like the three-headed puppy on your desk. you’ll never work again, too busy with his cock in your mouth or his remote vibrator in your cunt at dinner. the jewels drip into a roar - diamond encrusted toys you’re not sure are entirely safe, bejeweled handcuffs, glittery collars. he’s pluto, the riches of the earth following his orders when he chases you in his private woods. simon’s presence is otherworldly, taking you with the strength of a god as you squirm against his grip. his oldness disgusts you but makes you gush all the same. “gonna be good for daddy?” and you agree vehemently at the king before you, on his knees.

[headspace-hotel]

Everything is interconnected in ways that are unimaginably complex. I see this in my reading and in my observations of nature. Because of this I am starting to think that plant sameness both contributes to and is contributed to by animal sameness, especially birds.

Lots of invasive plant species in my area are spread by birds. But which kinds of birds? I'm not sure if we know.

But the species of birds which feed upon the berries of the invasive species, are likely to be highly abundant in the areas overtaken by the invasive species, spreading a larger number of seeds of invasive species into the other areas those birds go. When the high density of invasive plants excludes other birds, it causes even greater density and exclusionary capacity of the invasive species, and even more favorable conditions to the birds that feed upon them.

So basically, when plant sameness reduces the number of animal species (and fungus species) that can survive, and when this plant sameness is repeatedly reinforced through management of the landscape, it can start to perpetuate itself through the animal sameness that was created

What this suggests to me, is that there may be a critical threshold of fragmentation and destruction of habitat where invasive species removal by itself is pointless or worse, because the larger-scale landscape has too much plant sameness and animal sameness for native species to come back.

What to do...? Maybe choose plantings for the restored area specifically for vigorous dispersal and high seed and fruit production?

Native, quasi-native and cultivated food plants could all be appropriate, because the goal is to attract the dispersers that cannot survive in the invasive species monoculture environment and redirect dispersers that previously relied on invasive species for food.

This facilitates dispersal of plants between the newly planted restoration and other habitat fragments that can support non-monocultured wildlife.

[littlegochu]

night in mexico │ jjk 18+

"Told you I’d fly you somewhere you’d never forget. You like it, baby?"

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader (f)

genre: young couple, drug dealer bf

rating: 18+ fluff tho, swearing, drugs

synopsis: jeon jungkook doesn’t do soft. not with strangers. not with threats. not even with himself. but with her? he rents out oceanfront villas, kisses her like she’s fragile, and acts like he’s not dangerously obsessed.

-

"you’re so beautiful."

his voice is quiet, almost lazy, wrapped in smoke and salt-heavy air. jungkook exhales slow, watching the stars like they’re saying something only he can understand. he doesn’t look at me when he says it. just lets the words slip out like he’s not used to giving them shape.

we’re curled together on the sunbed outside our suite, tucked beneath a thin blanket and the thick hush of the tulum night. the ocean hums somewhere below. the air is warm and soft and still, like the world’s finally holding its breath just for us.

he’s shirtless, his skin golden from the sun, tattoos inked across his chest like constellations of their own. the spliff in his fingers glows faintly, a soft orange flicker every time he drags it to his lips.

i shift against him, thigh grazing his. “you’re just saying that cause you're high.”

he scoffs under his breath, doesn’t even glance my way. “high or not, you're beautiful”

but his hand doesn’t stop moving—still brushing up and down my thigh, slow and lazy, like he needs the contact. like touching me keeps him grounded.

“you look happy,” he says after a beat. “i like that shit.”

i blink, surprised. he never says things like that, even when it’s obvious. jungkook doesn’t do soft. not out loud. but he’s been different these past few days. quieter. more still. like being here has peeled back a layer he doesn’t usually let anyone see.

“it’s nice out here,” he murmurs, eyes still on the sky. “no calls. no noise. no fucking problems. just... you.”

i tuck my face into his shoulder and breathe him in—smoke, sun, and that faint clean scent that’s just his. he says it so casually, but i know what he means. he doesn’t get peace often. he doesn’t let himself rest.

but here, with me, he lets his guard down.

“i wasn’t supposed to end up like this,” he says, barely above a whisper. “i was supposed to be in school. something boring. i don’t even remember what i wanted to be.”

i don’t say anything. he’s not looking for answers. he’s remembering things that hurt.

“i used to skip class. steal shit. told people college was a scam ‘cause i didn’t get in.” his voice drops lower.

i sit up, turning to straddle him. his hands come to rest on my waist, like they always do—automatic. like even when he doesn’t want to talk, he still wants to feel me.

his jaw ticks. “you never left me, and i still don’t get why.”

“maybe because i see what you don’t.”

he frowns. “what?”

“you’re not just the bad shit, kook. you’re also the guy who warms my feet under the blanket. who picks the seeds out of my fruit even when you’re pissed at me. who looks at me like i’m the only thing that’s ever made sense.”

his throat works as he swallows.

“you say you’re a mess,” i whisper, brushing my thumb along his cheek. “but you gave me a life i never dreamed of. not just the money. the safety. the love.”

he exhales like he doesn’t believe me. like he’s trying to.

“i used to laugh at couples like this,” he mutters. “villas and soft shit. matching swimsuits and late-night cuddles.” he looks away. “now all i wanna do is keep you wrapped up in it forever.”

“you say that like it’s easy.” i say.

he scoffs. “loving you is easy.”

he kisses me then. it’s not perfect. it’s soft and a little clumsy and tastes like the last drag of his spliff—but it feels like everything. like truth. like surrender.

when he pulls back, his forehead presses to mine. he whispers, “you ever think you settled?”

“no.”

“not even once?”

“not even close.”

his hands slide down to my thighs, holding me like i might vanish. “i don’t know how to be better.”

“you don’t have to be better. you just have to be you.”

we fall into silence again, my head resting against his chest, his heartbeat slow and steady beneath my ear.

he tugs the blanket back over us and lets out a breath.

“you want anything?” he asks.

i shake my head. “i’ve got everything.”

his hand tightens on my leg. “good.”

then, quieter: “but if you ever want something—anything—just say it.”

and i know he means it. i know if i said i wanted the sky, he’d rip it down and hand it to me. and he wouldn’t even ask why.

he doesn’t say anything for a while.

just rests his head back against the cushion, one hand on my thigh, the other coming up to thread through my hair. slow. gentle. over and over again.

his fingers trail from my scalp down to the ends, then back up, curling slightly as he combs through. his breathing is steady. no tension in his jaw anymore. just quiet.

i melt against him, letting my eyes slip closed, cheek still pressed to his chest. it’s warm, and his skin smells like sun and something faintly minty, probably whatever lotion i left in the bathroom that he pretended not to use.

he keeps running his fingers through my hair, sometimes pushing it behind my ear, other times just letting it tangle in his hands.

then he leans down a little, just enough to press a kiss to the crown of my head.

soft. like a thank you. like an apology.

his lips linger there, and i can feel the breath he exhales against my scalp.

“you’re everything,” he murmurs. “you know that, right?”

i hum, barely awake, lips curling at the edges. “mm.”

“don’t leave me,” he says, quieter.

“nope,” i whisper.

and i mean it.

he presses another kiss to my hair, then one to my forehead, his mouth warm and steady against my skin.

“good.”

i feel myself drifting. the weight of the day, the warmth of his arms, the lull of the waves—it all pulls me under like a tide. like the safest kind of drowning.

he notices.

his hand leaves my hair, slips beneath my thighs. the blanket shifts as he scoops me up gently, like i weigh nothing.

i blink once, half-asleep. “i can walk,"

“shut up,” he mutters. “you’ll hurt your back out here.”

i want to say something smug in return, but i’m too far gone, too tired, too comfortable. i just nuzzle closer into his chest, arms loosely wrapping around his neck as he carries me inside.

i hear him smile.

his bare feet are quiet against the floorboards, the door creaking softly as he nudges it open with his shoulder. the room is dim, moonlight cutting across the floor, the sheets on our bed still rumpled from earlier.

he lays me down carefully, adjusting the blanket over me before sliding in beside me.

and then he pulls me close—no hesitation, no space between us.

one arm around my waist, the other tucked under the pillow, fingers brushing through my hair again.

his breath is slow, and when he thinks i’m fully asleep, he whispers it.

“i love you.”

i smile into the pillow, heart full, body warm, and fall asleep with his arm wrapped around me like a promise.

authors note: pls comment for suggestions and ur opinions on this story!

[genderqueerdykes]

had the consult for my gallbladder surgery. the doctor told me i need to "lose 10 - 15 pounds" before they'll perform the surgery on me, and that I would need to wait 2 - 3 months before they would schedule it. i told her i have PCOS which makes it difficult to lose weight. she told me that does happen, and offered to refer me to a bariatric surgeon who is used to bigger bodies who could perform the gallbladder removal instead. i asked her for the referral to them instead

i was very angry at her for this, as 10 - 15 pounds do not make any difference when you are 300 lbs. my weight fluctuates between 280 - 340 lbs depending greatly on what i've eaten, how much i exercise, and so on. this will also vary greatly depending on if the stone is blocking my gallbladder completely or partially- if it's fully blocking the neck of my gallbladder, i cannot get enough digestive juices into my stomach to properly digest my food, so i will begin violently vomiting to get the undigested food out, and to get bile flowing into my stomach again. i begin to lose tons of weight when this happens, and i put it back on during the periods where i can get enough bile in my stomach to properly digest my food.

i can't digest my food properly. eating "healthier" will not change this- i can't digest food at all, period. healthy or unhealthy, i can't digest anything, because a good half of my digestive juices are completely missing from my guts. there is a functional issue with the way my guts work, of course i will lose weight drastically and put it back on at times. of course the issues will be episodic.

both her and the student that was working with me kept assuming that i said that my pain got worse after "high fat" meals. both of them put this in my mouth-

the student did it first. she asked when the pain gets worse and i said sporadically, but sometimes after i eat. she literally asked me "so you said it gets worse after fatty meals, right?"

i got frustrated and said "no, it's really random." i didn't get to tell her that raw leafy vegetables and lightly steamed or cooked vegetables make me vomit. broccoli and cauliflower that aren't heavily cooked, salads, raw vegetables, lightly cooked carrots, applesauce and apples in general are all problem foods.

the doctor then came in and said "it gets worse after high fat meals, right? you said that" and i went, again, "no it just kinda happens."

i don't even eat a high fat diet. i cook at home now for every meal now that i have all the tools i need to do so. i make rice, fish, pasta, and certain vegetables that i can digest like potatoes, sweet potatoes, onions, mushrooms, and so on. i eat bread, seeds, nuts, dried fruits, and drink oatmilk. i don't eat land meats, eggs, or dairy. i don't have any of those things. i do eat french fries and fish sticks, but not for every single meal. i don't eat chips because they're too salty and irritate my stomach. i don't eat candy or sweets unless the food bank delivers them to me. i don't eat much sugar other than pancakes and certain fruits

she wouldn't listen to me and went "well when you eat fatty meals, your gallbladder has to contract more and it can cause you a lot of pain." you would not believe how many times she came back to "you need to eat a lower fat diet." "the pain gets worse after you eat a high fat meal, so eat lower fat meals and your pain will go down." "just eat a lower fat diet and it'll help."

i just kind of sighed. there were tears in my eyes. i felt defeated. they made a bunch of assumptions just because i was sitting there, being fat. i was wearing long sleeves due to it being cold and they didn't get to see that i have a lot of muscle in my body mass. quite a lot. i wanted to tell them that i'm on testosterone and physically active when and where possible, and that i frequently lift heavy objects and move, but i never got a chance. i wanted to tell them my BMI isn't what they think it is, but i just didn't bother to try

i despise that people assume that fat people are fat because they eat "unhealthy" foods. i ate high fat foods for a few months while i was homeless because i didn't have the resources to cook every single meal. it affected my liver, i'm dealing with some fatty liver. but my gallbladder has more important issues in the form of the literal stone inside. she would not stop pushing for me to eat lower fat meals. all because i was sitting there, existing, as a fat person. i wish i would've told her i can only eat fish and plant matter

i don't understand how a patient telling you they're vomiting and can't keep down certain foods does not sound like a more pressing issue than an arbitrary number. weight as a number means nothing, it tells you nothing about that person's actual body composition. i have trauma with vomiting and yet i'm going to have to keep doing it anyway despite the fact that it could kill me via dehydration or if i just. can't stop

either way i'm very unhappy with result as i already waited for a month for this consult. now i have to wait for a referral for another surgeon to go through, and to do the consult with them, too. all while being in pain and having GI issues the entire time. just because a surgeon doesn't want to take the time to learn how to operate on fat bodies. i'm tired. what a joke

[angelicgirlmj]

an angels guide: my ideal summer morning routine ˚ʚɞ｡⋆

hi angels! it’s finally starting to feel like summer, my exams are almost done and the suns shining practically everyday. summer is the perfect time of year to work on yourself, the days are longer, it’s easier to be outside and everything feels so much brighter and more optimistic. with that in mind here is my ideal summer routine! for me this is perfect when i have the time and energy - not every day looks like this but i try and incorporate aspects of this routine as much as possible when time doesn’t permit me to do the entire thing. hopefully it gives you some inspiration and guidance for your own routine!

wake up and open the curtains and my windows. let as much natural light in and feel the warmth of the day on my skin.

drink a glass of water as i sit and look outside, do some deep breathing and feel the possibilities in this new day.

do five to ten minutes of yoga and stretching (id be happy to do a list of my favourite youtubers/routines!).

do ten minutes of gentle pilates, just to help me feel more awake and ready for the day. getting my body moving first thing helps me feel so alive.

make my bed and tidy anything in my room that’s messy or needs sorting. dress in something cute and summery that helps me feel prepared for the day ahead. i love to wear jewellery or little accessories even when i dont have much planned just to remind myself that every day is special.

brush my teeth and gently wash my face with some cool water to help depuff it and wake me up.

pick my book of the day - especially in the summer when i have more time for pleasure reading i like to read a book a day!

make a delicious summer breakfast. my favourites tend to be a yogurt bowl with fruits, coconut and almond flakes and puffed oats, chia seed pudding/overnight oats or a beautiful smoothie bowl. i aim for at least five different fruits/veggies in summer, i want my breakfasts to be as varied and colourful as possible while being wonderfully nutritious! if possible i eat my meals outside in the summer especially first thing.

fill up my water bottle and make a cup of herbal tea. i always drink tea after eating to help me digest and for all the other benefits. my favourites in the summer tend to be either a green tea, a raspberry hibiscus and strawberry tea (my current fave) or a peach tea!

clean teeth again, mouthwash and use my water flosser to help my mouth feel as clean as possible.

do skincare and bodycare. i use a thick lotion on my body twice a day, wait a little then spray perfume as well as applying suncream on my face always and on my body depending on the UV/my activities for the day.

spend fifteen or twenty minutes journalling and using my hands to write down my feelings, mood or any other journal prompt.

read a little of my book, try and be as thoughtful as possible and really absorb the meaning. treasure what a gift literature is.

go on a little walk! i like to aim for twenty minutes, just something short and brief but allows me to spend some time outside and really moving my body.

do something with my hands. bake something, write something, craft something, anything that requires me to focus and engage in a hobby. im always in the process of creating something and im guilty of having hundreds of half finished projects - hoping to finish some this summer!

prepare and plan for the day ahead. write my to do list, organise things with friends or for myself and get ready to enjoy the rest of my day having spent a delightful summer morning caring for my body and soul.

thank you for reading angels! hope you enjoyed, summer is such a brilliant time of year to prioritise yourself, your needs and develop new hobbies and skills. this routine reminds me to treasure it and take the time to appreciate it before it slips away for the rest of the year. hopefully this time of year is treating you all wonderfully! to anyone who has exams, take a deep breath, drink some water and remind yourself that you can and will get through this.

from, m.

[dark-konohagakure2]

Helloooo! This is my first time requesting something like this so im super nervous .. but do you think you could write something along the lines of madara niece getting married of to him and them consummating (getting freaky deaky) the wedding? Its okay if not, i love your work! ^_^

tw: incest, uncle/niece, noncon, forced marriage, age difference, misogyny, breeding, size difference, cumflation

All characters depicted are 18+

Madara doesn't care about romance in the slightest, much less marriage. He can appreciate taking a woman's body as a spoil of war, but other than that he couldn't care less about such tedious distractions such as women. But as little thought as he puts into the matter, the fact remains that Madara will need an heir soon as head of the Uchiha Clan, and there is only one suitable candidate for birthing his sons.

Madara isn't incredibly close with his niece, he doesn't hate her, but he isn't exactly a doting uncle either. Most of his memories of his niece are of her as a small and meek thing, hiding behind her father Izuna's leg and clinging to her mother's skirt, but now that she's grown older, she has become an attractive young woman, the spitting image of her late father, his precious younger brother, so Madara decides to kill two birds with one stone.

Forcing her hand in marriage is almost top easy, the girl's mother has been in disarray since her husband's death, so the woman sees her only daughter getting married as a good thing for the clan. Even if Madara is the girl's uncle, he is without a doubt the most suitable male for her out of every man in the Uchiha clan, or at least that's the point he'll hammer in.

His niece isn't terribly happy when she receives the news that she'll be getting married, what's worse is that she gets this shocking news at the very last minute, as Madara doesn't even think to tell her about their unconventional 'engagement' until the very day right before their so-called wedding, and he definitely won't be sympathetic to her hysterical woman tears.

"Enough or your shrieking, girl. I've already made my decision and it is final. If you can't even do something as simple as rearing a few children for our clan, then you don't deserve to be called an Uchiha."

The wedding isn't exactly a large one, it'd just the two of them, not even the mother is allowed to attend her own daughter's 'wedding', Madara doesn't need two crying women ruining his special day. The wedding kimono suits his adorably homely niece rather well, but Madara thinks it would suit her much better on his bed, so suffice to say that the marriage ceremony will be rather quick.

Once it's finally done, Madara will practically drag her to his chambers, his cock unbearably hard beneath his wedding robe, he never thought he'd ever be so excited about sinking his cock into a wet cunt, but his niece's tight little Uchiha pussy is just too much of a tempting forbidden fruit for him to resist sinking his teeth into. While his main goal is reproduction, Madara will also be after his own pleasure during this act of consummation.

Madara's cock is long and thick, stretching her virgin walls before he then gets it halfway inside, and when he finally rams his thick meat into her, his leaking tip will immediately and mercilessly bash into her cervix like a battering ram, it would be next to impossible for her to get thoroughly knocked up due to how deeply Madara is penetrating her fertile cunt.

Madara doesn't take any half measures, he wants her swollen with his seed, with his offspring, and he's not going to achieve that by just one measly orgasm inside of her, he's going to cum inside of her as much as possible, fucking his superior seed into her until her flat tummy becomes bloated with the sheer amount of cum that Madara has dumped into her, and even then he's not going to stop enjoying his niece-wife for quite some time.

"Stupid girl, don't pass out on me just yet, weakling. It's only been four rounds and you're already whining and leaking? Pathetic. How did I get burdened with such a weak niece..?"

Madara's opinion on sex won't change too much even after having his way with his new 'wife', but now he's able reach a conclusion; he doesn't have any need for other women and their holes now, since his niece is the only set of holes Madara can imagine himself using for the foreseeable future.