#you only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. tell me about despair- yours- and i will tell you mine''

[shadowsong26x]

image description: a page from a book

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting-- over and over announcing your place in the family of things.

Wild Geese by Mary Oliver

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

☆ Silver's Sinful Sunday ☆

Week Four: Azriel

Warnings: 18+ [MDNI], enemies with benefits (mates), fem reader, choking, p in v, reader is kinda a brat, dominant Azriel, no use of Y/N, pet names, slight angst at the end, it's my writing — that's a warning within itself (cringe), all actions are with consent ofc

A/N— Week four was originally Vox (Hazbin Hotel). Refer to this post for the reason why it's not. Azriel was intended to be week five, but he's been moved to week four. The style for this one is also a little different than the others. . . Oopsies. . . Your honor, they're actually in love with each other but they're idiots. . .

Word Count: 2.8K

“Let me in.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine despite the massive argument the two of you had been in less than an hour ago. It was over something so petty that you didn't even remember what it was about, but you were still heated over it.

The anger simmered just beneath the surface, a feeling only he could evoke. It both drove you wild and pissed you off at the exact same time. 

“I know you're in there. Let me in.”

After every argument, Azriel found his way to your door. After every argument, it always ended the same way. There were never apologies. Apologies didn't exist between the two of you. The thought of one alone was highly amusing.

You reached the door with a scowl, twisting the brassy colored knob in your firm grasp. The door swung open, revealing the very male you knew it'd be.

His gaze roamed unabashedly over your form. From your hair to the silken midnight blue nightgown that hugged your curves in all the right places, all the way to the soft glow of your skin in the warm light of your bedroom.

“What?” You hissed, eyes narrowing.

He hummed approvingly, noting how you were still heated from the argument. “Are you going to let me in, or just glare at me?” His voice was deep and raspy, telling you everything you needed to know. The reason why he'd come, just like the other times.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, turning on your heel to return to your vanity. The door was left wide open; Azriel stepped in, shutting and locking the door behind him, watching closely as you walked away from him.

“Do you have any idea how mad you made me out there?” Azriel asked as he walked towards you, his steps quick, but quiet. His body moved with ease, like a prowling animal, every muscle rippling with every step.

“You started it. You pissed me off.” You sharply bit back, stopping in front of the mirror to take off the last remnants of the lipstick that Mor had wanted you to try because she thought it would look good on you. She was right, as usual.

He came up behind you, his large frame towering over you in the mirror. Azriel's hands landed on your hips, pinning you against the vanity in front of you. His hard chest pressed against your back, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear. “I may have started it, but you don't know when to shut your little mouth.”

"I thought you liked my mouth wide open." You snapped with a small, barely noticeable rumble of a growl, glaring at him in the mirror as he pressed against you. 

He chuckled and he slid his large hand up your body, gently wrapping his fingers around your throat, his hand almost covering your entire neck.

"I do. But I also like it when you're a good little princess and shut up and listen. I like it when you're good for me." He moved his other hand, letting it run over your thigh.

He moved his lips over your neck, letting his tongue trail over your sensitive skin, feeling your pulse in his hand. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before you open that pretty mouth of yours to say something you'll know will piss me off, hm?"

His hand on your thigh moved higher, letting his hand slide under the fabric of your nightgown, running his hand over the smooth skin of your hip.

“Don't act like you don't fucking love it.” You growled, fighting the urge to react to his touch. He didn't deserve to see you melt into his touch. Ha. No.

A dark chuckle fell from his lips, his breath warm on your skin. “You're right. It makes it more fun when I shut you up. . . I like it when you can't hide how much you want me.” His teeth grazed your neck. 

“Go fuck yourself.”

A low chuckle came from him again, he didn't expect anything different from you. You were stubborn and defiant. But he liked it, loved it even. You were the only one who dared to talk back to him, to fight and argue with him. It drove him crazy.

"Such a filthy little mouth." His hand fell from your throat and he spun you around to face him, lifting you up, sitting you on the vanity and standing in between your thighs.

His hands ran up your thighs, his hands disappearing under the fabric of your nightgown, gripping your hips and tugging you closer against his front. He moved his lips to your ear again, his chest now pressed up against yours as his breathing quickened.

"You know, for someone who was so angry a moment ago, you seem to be enjoying my touch now. Your breathing, the way your heart is racing, the way your legs are opened wide for me.”

You growled at the clear smugness in his tone, your eyes narrowing into a glare once the brief shock from his quick movements wore away.

"You know, your little growl sounds more like a moan to me, love." He grabbed your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist as he stepped forward, pressing his hips against yours so you could feel how hard he already was. His mouth moved down your neck again, gently nipping and sucking your skin.

"You can stay defiant, but your body is telling a different story.”

Your slender fingers gripped the collar of his clothes and forced him to look at you as your legs locked around his waist, pulling him closer. "Stop. Playing. Games. Azriel." You snarled.

He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him as he stared down at you with his darkened gaze. He leaned close, his lips hovering just inches away from yours. "Why don't you just admit you want me, princess?” 

"Maybe I should just go ask Cassian if he'd want to —”

The moment you mention Cassian's name, something snapped inside of him. His grip on you tightened, and he let out a low possessive growl. His hand slid up, wrapping around your neck. "Not. A. Chance. He's not allowed anywhere near you, do you understand me?”

"It seems I've struck a nerve." You spat, a dark grin spreading across your face as you stared up at him.

He let out a low growl, his grip on your throat tightening a bit more. "Cassian won't be able to give you what you need, sweetheart. I know how much you want me right now, and deep down, you know you can't deny it. You're mine."

His hips ground against yours, making you feel the further evidence of how much he wanted you. "You're mine, princess. Say it.”

“Choke.” You muttered darkly.

His hand tightened around your throat, constricting it in a way that had you releasing a soft moan despite the glare set on your face.

He chuckled again, watching that expression on your face. "I can tell how much you want this." His voice was low and gravelly against your ear. His hips continued to grind against yours, putting just the right amount of pressure where you wanted it.

You groaned, which turned into an almost embarrassingly needy moan very quickly. You glared harder, hating the way he reduced you to a writhing mess so easily. . . Knowing what was imminent, you reached down and began unlacing his pants at a tantalizing slow pace.

The fabric came loose in your grasp and he immediately shed them, along with his underwear, tossing them somewhere in the room before he slid a hand back under the hem of your nightgown, expecting to meet the lace fabric of your panties. He let out a low growl when, instead of fabric, his hand immediately met your slick folds. 

You gasped softly as he ran a finger through them before gently thrusting two fingers into you, while his thumb rubbed gently on your clit, his other hand finding its way back to your throat as if it was magnetic. 

He moved his hand in a steady rhythm, listening to the sweet sounds you tried and failed to stifle. 

“You're so desperate for me, aren't you? You need me, don't you?” 

You could only moan softly as his fingers curled deliciously within you.

“Say it. Say you need me. Say you're mine.” 

"Yours." You gasped out a moan. "I'm all yours — GODS, I need you, Az. . ."

He loved hearing those words from you, loved hearing you admit how much you needed him. . . Loved seeing you completely surrendering yourself to him. "Good girl. That's it, princess. I'm the only one who can make you feel like this.”

He dipped his head down, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin on your neck, as his hand continued to move in that steady rhythm between your thighs. "You're all mine, princess. No one else gets to touch you, to make you needy and desperate for release like this. Say it. Tell me you're mine.”

"I'm yours." You moaned, your hips bucking slightly, seeking more friction than what he was giving you. 

You hated how in control he was.

You hated the way his fingers alone made the heat within you build, threatening to snap.

You hated the way you didn't really hate any of it.

He grinned as he continued to leave marks on your neck, moving down to your chest. "Louder, princess. I want you to say it, louder. I want you to admit how much you need me." His hand between your legs moved faster, applying more pressure, knowing it will drive you crazy.

You let out a loud, needy moan. "Need you so bad, Az. . . So bad. . . Please. . !" You gasped.

You needed him. You hated how much you needed him, but at the end of the day, the two of you were mates, destined to be, and maybe, just maybe, the harsh words exchanged could turn into soft, reassuring words. . . Unlikely, but possible. . . Maybe. 

"Good girl. That's it, princess. I like it when you're needy like this. I love knowing that you're all mine. I love hearing you begging for me." He says against your chest, his mouth moving down to one of your sensitive mounds. He continued to suck and lick, his hand between your legs still moving steadily, but he could feel how eager you were, how impatient you were getting. "Be a good girl for me, princess. Tell me what you want. You need to ask for it.”

“Fuck me, Az. . . Please. . .”

He chuckled, a low, possessive growl coming from his chest. There was an intense look on his face as he slowly moved his hands away from their placements — stealing his fingers away from your core before you could come around them —  gently grabbing you by the hips and pulling you forward off the vanity. With ease, he pushed you up against the wall next to the mirror, pressing himself against you.

He moved his hips forward, letting you feel how hard you made him, letting you feel how much he'd been wanting you. "I'm going to make you remember who you belong to. Who you've always belonged to." He looked into your eyes, his expression full of desire and possession, a hint of a smirk on his face.

You glared slightly but gasped softly as he pressed forward, entering you inch by inch. 

He let his mouth roam over your neck again, moving down to the top of your chest, gently nipping and sucking on the skin, leaving marks that would be visible in the morning. His hands stayed firmly on your hips, keeping you in place as he slowly moved in and out of you.

"You're mine, princess. You're mine, not only in this room, but out there too. Everyone needs to know who you belong to.”

"Fuck you." You ground out, fighting back a moan at how he was making you feel. But the moan spilled out anyway.

He grinned against your skin, knowing he was getting to you. "That's it, princess. You can try and be defiant, but you'll eventually break. You'll break for me, like you always do. That mouth of yours is always going to end up wide open, just for me, whether you admit it or not." He moved his head up, looking into your eyes, his intense stare holding you captive.

You moaned as he hit a certain spot before growling and capturing his lips in a fiery, lustful kiss. It was new territory, but something within you told you to do it. . . Perhaps it was that taunting golden string tethering your souls together. . . Or maybe you just wanted him to shut the fuck up.

He quickly took control of the kiss, pushing your head up against the wall as he dominated you. His hips moved harder and faster against yours, the sound of flesh against flesh filling the room, combining with the sound of your and his moans.

"You're mine, princess. No one else can make you feel like this.”

You knew without a doubt in your mind that he was right. No one could. No one would.

He couldn't take his eyes off of you, watching your face twist into ecstasy and pleasure, hearing your moans and sounds fill the room. He loved how shamelessly you gave yourself over to him, how you couldn't fight it, no matter how much you'd tried before. He loved how you were his.

He moved his hands from your hips, one gripping your neck again, his fingers lightly closing around your throat, the other moving to your thigh, hitching your leg up over his hip, giving him a deeper angle to work with.

Your eyes rolled back as you moaned louder. Gods, he knew your body far too well. Your desires. Just the right way to push your buttons — just the right angle to thrust mercilessly into you. 

He loved the sound of your moans, the way your body was responding to him, the way your eyes rolled back when he pushed you right to the edge. He knew you better than anyone else, and he loved that he had this power over you, that you willingly gave into that power, even if you didn't like it a few minutes ago. He knew you needed this, just as much as he needed you. 

He leaned forward, whispering against your ear, his voice low and gruff. "You're mine... say it. I want to hear you say it, princess.”

"Shut up." You moaned out with a slight groan.

He chuckled against your skin. You could always try to resist him, but you'd never be able to win. He loved how stubborn you were, but he also loved being able to take that stubbornness away from you, to make you completely surrender to him.

"You just can't help defying me, can you, princess? But then again, I know exactly how to set you straight, don't I?" He tightened the grip around your neck, his fingers pressing against your pulse point, knowing how wild it would make you. 

"Fuck — I'm yours." You moaned pathetically. "I fucking hate you, but I'm yours. . .”

"That's right, princess. You're mine. Now, and always. You can hate me and fight me all you want, but deep down, you know that you belong with me..” He continued to move against you, faster and harder, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. 

He moved his hand down, his thumb gently tracing slow circles against your clit, adding even more sensation and pleasure. 

You knew he could tell you were close. He always could. The way your breath caught. The way you subtly met his thrusts. The way you clenched around him so sinfully and your eyes fluttered closed.

"Give in, princess. Let yourself go. Let yourself feel all of this.”

Then pleasure crashed into you as the steadily growing, hot coil snapped and you fell over the edge right into an orgasm, your breathing heavy as you slowly began coming down from the high.

Seeing you completely lose yourself sent him over the edge, his release intense and powerful, his body going taut as he let himself go inside you, his forehead falling against yours as he leaned against you, trying to catch his breath.

He took a few moments to regain his bearings, his body still pressed up against yours as his hands gently held your hips, still holding you in place.

There was some part of you that wanted to ask him to stay, but as he slowly separated the two of you, setting your feet back on the smooth hardwood floor with shaky legs, before going to locate his clothes that he had hastily discarded in the heat of the moment, you knew this was how it was. 

He dressed, sparing a quick glance back at you before leaving your room. Wordlessly. Leaving you with his cum slowly spilling out of you. . . You also knew that you'd have to start another argument with him tomorrow. . . Just so you could have him close again.

Because even you knew that you didn't truly hate him.

[kaitawrites]

hai,,,, guess who's also obsessed with logan also,,,, I was wondering if you could do a wolverine x male reader who has wings? maybe his wings got matted or dirty from something like idk rain or just fighting a lot,,, I'm just insane over this man have complete freedom over this :3c

-🐊

AN: I love animal-like powers so much. Which is why I love Wolverine. I hope you enjoy it! {Roi Instrumental for music}

Characters: Logan "Wolverine" Howlett x Male! Mutant! Reader

A grunt escapes your lips as you pluck the ruined feathers from your wings. The only thing that heavily irritated you was when people would try to shoot you down from the sky. Now here you are, plucking out the damaged feathers. They will always grow back stronger. But the process is and will always be painful.

"What are you doing?" A husky and deep voice could be heard from behind you. There is only one person who could be the owner of that voice. The Logan Wolverine Howlett. You decide to just ignore him and continue the process of maintenance. You could hear a low growl leave from him. Logan knew you were ignoring him. He couldn't even care as to why.

His eyes land on the blood on your hands. Your blood. The smell was thick and intoxicating. Minute by minute, it seemed the scent was getting stronger and stronger. Something primal switched in him as he marched right in front of you. He grabs onto your wrist. "You're just going to get it infected. Let me do it." You glance at him suspiciously.

You two never really got along. You are one of Scott's friends, and once you learned who Logan was, his persistence in taking Jean away from him made alarm bells go throughout your body. 'What a dickhead.' You always thought. In truth, Logan was an asshole. Someone who did what he wanted, how he wanted, and when he wanted. It would be a lie if you weren't jealous of his brazen attitude. But being an asshole 24/7? Yeah, that award definitely goes to him.

Imagine your surprise when you see the softness in his eyes as he stares down at you. It just didn't fit the idea you painted of him. He is the asshole, after all, right? "Just... let me do it." Logan doesn't know what came over him.

So, that's how you are now. Sitting still for Logan to properly take care of your wings. A slight shiver goes down your spine when Logan caresses a few feathers. You didn't know Logan had caught notice of it, the way your shoulders had slightly tensed and relaxed within a second. He decided not to comment on it but began to gaze all over your body. The warmth that radiates off your body. Who knew something that usually goes undetected could be so comforting?

To say the least, your viewpoint on Logan possibly softened. You wouldn't tell him that though.

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

quotes i wanna see in jason todd fics

i mayyyy or may not write about these but we shall see

Why...didn't you make me good enough...so that you could've loved me?

~ the last days of judas iscariot by stephen adly guirgi

I never was a child I was pulled right out of the sea And the salt, it never left my body...

~ they'll clap when you're gone by chelsea wolfe

My audience is God, because who the hell else could understand me? Who else has been dead twice?

~ half hanged mary by margaret atwood

I have a very childlike rage, and a very childlike loneliness.

~ Richey Edwards

I am the bad daughter, the freedom fighter, the shaper of death masks. I am the snake, I am the crone.

~Aswang by Barbara Jane Reyes

i did not mean to be cruel. i swear i am good i am good i am kind. i have love inside of me. some place far far away.

~ not actually sure where this is from but if anyone knows the source please let me know!

Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it.

~ David Foster Wallace

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. This may be me at my best.

~ calling a wolf a wolf by kaveh akbar

Tell me, father, which to ask forgiveness for: what I am, or what I'm not? Tell me, mother, which should I regret: what I became, or what I didn't?"

~ @dvoyd

If you love me, Henry, you don't love me in a way I understand.

~ wishbone by richard siken

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

~ wild geese by mary oliver

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Hi hi))) tumblr recently showed me it’s legendary quote about marriage “ you know your marriage worked out if you’re still up for a quickie in a laundry room while kids are watching Lion King and you gotta take dino nuggets out of oven in 10min”

Can we please get it with Dave? I love him he’s so fit and his arms are like 😩😳🥵. He is trying to knock his wife up while she’s folding the laundry while loud cartoons on TV downstairs are there to distract their two kids???

I LOVED THIS IDEAAAA, I hope you like it🔥❤

Warnings: explicit sexual content, sexual themes, and a bit of dirty language.

-----

Laundry room secrets

The soft hum of the laundry machine and the rhythmic sound of fabric folding are the only noises filling the room as I finish the last load. The kids are downstairs, their animated chatter blending with the sounds of The Lion King playing on the TV. It’s been a hectic day, and yet, in this quiet moment, everything feels calm. The laundry’s almost done, the house is quiet for once, and for the first time in a long while, I find myself actually enjoying this small moment of peace. 

That is, until I hear the creak of the stairs and the sound of boots hitting the top step—one of those steps that Dave always misses when he’s trying to sneak up on me. It makes me smile because I can already guess what’s coming. 

I hear him before I see him. "Hey, babe, you need any help?" The voice is deep and warm, the same voice that always makes my heart race a little, even after all these years. He leans in the doorway, and I look up from my work to see him standing there—tall, broad, and impossibly fit.

His arms, flexing as he crosses them in front of his chest, are like a walking advertisement for hard work at the gym. He’s got that rugged, casual look on him today—plain black T-shirt, the sleeves hugging his biceps just right—and I can’t help but let my gaze linger. 

“Are you serious?” I tease, raising an eyebrow. “Help with laundry? You do know what that means, right? Folding, sorting, putting away?”

He shrugs, and the mischievous glint in his eyes only gets stronger. “Sure, I’ll help with all that… later.” He steps closer, his boots heavy on the wooden floorboards as he closes the space between us. 

I roll my eyes and give him a soft shove. "Later. Right."

He smirks, clearly reading my mind. “Or we could do something else right now. Something… more fun.”

I glance at the door. The kids are downstairs. They’re probably too distracted by the cartoons to even notice what’s happening upstairs. The house is oddly quiet for once—just the murmur of the TV and the occasional sound of my kids arguing over something silly. 

I should keep my focus on the laundry, but that’s just not happening. 

Before I can stop myself, I’m already turning toward him, feeling his presence next to me, warm and steady. “Something else, huh?” I ask, pretending to be nonchalant, even though my heart rate picks up the moment his hands brush against my back. His fingertips graze along my spine, sending a tingle through me. He knows exactly what he’s doing—he’s always known how to drive me crazy in the best possible way.

"Yeah," he replies, voice low and a little dangerous. "You’ve been working hard today. Maybe you deserve a little... break."

I glance over at the clock on the wall. It’s 20:15, and I know that I’ve got about ten minutes before I have to go rescue the dino nuggets in the oven. I also know this is the kind of moment that doesn’t come often. 

There’s no way I’m passing this up.

“Ten minutes,” I murmur, a grin tugging at my lips. “I’ve got ten minutes before the chicken nuggets are overcooked.”

Dave laughs softly, the sound low and teasing. “Perfect. That gives us just enough time.”

I can feel the warmth of his body pressing into mine, his hands sliding over my hips, pulling me closer. The second I’m against him, his lips are on mine—warm, demanding, and sweet all at once. I feel the world start to melt away. The laundry room. The kids. The timer on the oven. It all fades into the background as Dave deepens the kiss, his tongue gently sliding against mine. His hands move to my waist, steady and sure, like he’s not going anywhere.

“Dave,” I whisper between kisses, “the kids…”

“They’re fine,” he murmurs, lips trailing down my neck. “They’re too busy watching the lion king to notice what we’re up to.”

He’s right. I can hear Simba’s voice in the background, and the kids are probably too busy fighting over who gets to sit on the couch to even think about what’s going on upstairs. For once, the house feels eerily quiet and calm. And for once, I don’t feel like I’m in a race against time. 

I let my hands roam, tracing the firm lines of his chest, feeling the muscles under his shirt shift with every move he makes. It’s always been like this with Dave—there’s a constant pull between us, an energy that’s both effortless and intense. We’ve been married for years, but somehow, it still feels like we’re in that honeymoon phase where we can’t get enough of each other.

His hands slide under my shirt, his fingertips grazing the skin of my lower back, and I let out a soft breath as his touch sends a wave of heat through me. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

I can’t help but smile. “You say that every time, but you know it’s true.”

“Yeah, I do,” he responds, his lips curving into that signature, roguish smile that always drives me wild. “But it’s still worth saying.”

I let out a quiet laugh, the sound mixing with the hum of the laundry machine in the background. I’m getting lost in him—his touch, his voice, the warmth of his body pressing against mine. It feels like a lifetime ago since we were last like this, just the two of us, caught up in the intensity of each other. 

I can feel my pulse quicken, and before I know it, I’m guiding him toward the dryer, his body pressing me against the cool metal. His lips meet mine again, but this time, there’s more urgency behind it—more heat. My hands find their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart as it thrums against my palm. His chest is solid and warm beneath my fingertips, every inch of him as strong and sturdy as I remember. 

He breaks the kiss and looks down at me, his hands settling on my hips. “I think it’s time for you to sit down,” he says softly, his voice low and full of that quiet command he always seems to carry.

I’m about to question him when he lifts me effortlessly, turning me to face the dryer. My back hits the top of the machine, the cool surface sending a shiver down my spine. Dave’s hands guide my legs, helping me to sit on top of the dryer, my feet barely touching the floor. His hands move to my waist, pulling me close again, and I feel his lips press against my neck, kissing me softly. It’s not rough, not hurried—just slow, steady, and deliberate, as if he’s savoring every second of this. 

I breathe in the familiar scent of him—the cologne I bought him years ago mixed with the faint musk of sweat from his workout earlier. I’m completely at ease with him, but the rush of excitement is undeniable. The vulnerability of sitting on the dryer, exposed and in his hands, heightens everything. 

“You’re so sexy when you let go like this,” he says, his voice barely a whisper against my ear. “I love how you trust me.”

I smile, leaning back to give him a better angle, letting my hands move to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. “I trust you more than anyone.”

His hands slide beneath my shirt again, but this time, there’s no teasing. He’s quick to undress me, his touch heated, urgent, and when my shirt is discarded on the floor, his hands travel to my waist, inching down my pants as I pull them off.

I can’t help but lean back, his hands grip my hips, pulling me closer as his lips press against mine. The kiss deepens almost instinctively, both of us hungry for the connection we’ve been missing. The sound of the dryer hums softly in the background, a low vibration that matches the pounding of my heart as I feel his body heat radiate against mine.

"God, you feel so good," Dave murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. His hands slid down to my thighs, lifting me just enough to press his body closer, his chest hard against mine.

I shiver, the feeling of him so overwhelming, so present. "I want you," I breathe, barely able to hold myself together. "Now."

His lips curve into a half-smile as he lifts me, sitting me on the edge of the dryer, our faces inches apart. He looks at me like I’m the only thing that matters at that moment. "I can’t get enough of you," he whispers, his voice thick with desire.

I run my hands up his chest, feeling the muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. "Then show me," I say, my voice low, a challenge in my words.

He doesn't waste any time. He pushes my legs apart, stepping between them, his hands gripping my waist as he slowly moves against me. "You’re perfect," he breathes, his voice strained. "I need to feel you."

I pull him closer, wrapping my arms around his neck, my lips finding him again. The kiss is desperate now, urgent, and I can feel the heat building between us. "Dave�� I need you," I whisper, breaking the kiss for a second, my eyes locking with his.

His hands move to my hips, guiding me as I lift just enough to adjust myself. The sensation of him inside me makes me gasp, and his name slips past my lips before I can stop it. He groans in response, his hands gripping me tighter as he begins to move, slow at first, but building in intensity.

"You feel so fucking good," he mutters, his voice rough, his gaze never leaving mine. "So tight... so perfect for me."

I moan softly, my body starting to move with him. Every thrust makes me feel as if I'm floating in a sea of ecstasy. Every inch of him makes me feel alive, sending waves of heat through my veins. "Don’t stop," I beg, my hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as I urge him on.

He growls in response, his lips finding my neck as he quickens the pace. "I won’t," he says, his voice low and commanding. "I’m not stopping until you’re mine."

I tighten my grip on him, my body moving faster now, meeting every thrust, every movement. The pressure builds deep inside me, and I know I’m getting close. I can feel it in every part of me, the way my body responds to him, the way his breath is coming faster.

"Dave, I’m—" I gasp, my body trembling as the pleasure overwhelms me. I can’t hold back any longer. My muscles tighten around him as I let go, my orgasm washing over me in waves.

"Fuck," he groans, his movements faltering for a moment as he reaches his peak, his hands clutching me tightly, his body shaking with the force of it.

We stayed like that for a moment, both of us breathing heavily, our foreheads pressed together. The moment feels timeless, even though the world outside is still there, still waiting for us.

 Finally, he pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire, lips curved into a mischievous grin. "I could do this with you forever," he murmurs, his voice a low, heated growl.

My breath catches in my throat, still reeling from the way he’s made me feel. I look up at him, a slow smile spreading across my face as I reach up to trace his jaw. "You better be ready to keep proving it," I reply, my voice a mix of teasing and need.

He leans in to kiss me one more time, soft and sweet now, as if to remind me that beyond the passion, there’s a deep love we share. Then, with a sigh, he pulls away, his fingers brushing my cheek. "We should probably check on those dino nuggets," he says with a playful grin.

I chuckle softly, shaking my head. "Right. Can’t let those burn."

As we make our way back down to the kitchen, I feel that familiar warmth in my chest, the kind that comes from knowing we’ve built something real—something that doesn’t just survive the chaos of everyday life but thrives in it.

[pinkslipxox]

Birthday Girl:

Summary: you and Miko celebrate her birthday 🎉

Warnings: fluff, smut 😘☺️

——————————————————————————

A smile spreads on your lips as you realize what today is. Sleeping peacefully besides you is your girlfriend— also known as the birthday girl— looking as beautiful as ever. Careful not to wake her, her straddle her, and admire her for a moment before waking her up.

“Feliz cumpleaños, mi amor,” you murmur softly, caressing her cheek. She stirs and murmurs something incoherently, making you giggle. Then suddenly, Miko wraps her tattooed arms around you, making you squeal and peppers your face with kisses.

“Gracias, mi vida,” Miko chuckles, a smile spreading on her lips. “How old am I again?”

“Twenty seven,” you giggle and Miko groans dramatically.

“Ya estoy vieja,” she huffs playfully and you lightly smack her shoulder.

“Lighten up, baby. I have presents for you!” you exclaim cheerfully and quickly leave the bedroom before Miko can say anything.

You’ve hidden the presents in one of the guest rooms. It has been hard to figure out what to get her, especially when she already has everything. The gifts you got her were simple, yet you know that she would be grateful even if you hadn’t gotten anything for her at all. If you could, you’d give Miko the world.

“Ay, mi amor, no tenías que regalarme algo,” Miko chuckles as you reappear into the bedroom with three birthdays bags that contain your gifts.

“It’s your birthday! Of course you’re getting presents from me,” you giggle as you straddle your girlfriend’s lap again.

“Which one should I open first?” Miko asks, smiling.

“The pink one,” you tell her and she nods.

You hold your breath as she takes out the presents. You had bought her a Powerpuff Girls coloring books, some new coloring pencils, paints and graffiti markers. You thought it was only fitting since she loves to draw.

“Ay, mi amor! Muchísimas gracias,” Miko coos, her eyes sparkling with happiness and appreciation.

“Don’t thank me just yet! Open the blue one,” you giggle and Miko does so.

“Que lindo!” Miko gasps as she puts on the crotched turquoise bucket that you’ve made for her. You even crotched her favorite Anime characters on it. “I love it! Thank you, baby.”

“And here’s the last one,” you say, handing her the green bag.

Miko opens the bag and pulls out the three new crop tops you bought her. They’re the exact ones that she was looking at online a few days ago. Of course, you just had to get them for her.

“Eres la mejor novia del mundo, Y/N. Muchas gracias,” Miko gushes as she outstretches her arms to you and you immediately wrap your own arms around her, tightly.

“I love you, María Victoria,” you whisper in her ear before peppering her cheek with kisses.

“Y yo a ti, Y/N. Desde el fondo de mi corazón,” Miko hums as she plants soft kisses to your shoulder. “How can I ever thank you?”

You chuckle softly. “Nothing like a little kiss will do the trick.”

With that, Miko pulls away ever so slightly, cupping your cheek as she tightens her grip around your waist. The intensity that she looks at you with almost leaves you breathless as she gently leans your head in, your lips molding together into a sweet, soft kiss. Miko deepens the kiss, her warm tongue massaging yours, your hands roaming each other’s bodies as soft moans and gasps escape your lips. Your hands gently palm her breasts, and you can’t help but smirk at the little whimper that she makes.

“Y/N… carajo…” Miko moans as your lips trail down her neck, leaving love bites on her skin, soothing the sting with your tongue afterwards.

“Let me take care of you, birthday girl,” you purr, your voice low and seductive.

At Miko’s approval, you remove her bra, and you can’t help but admire her tender, perky breasts. Her throws her head back in pleasure as you lightly pinch and squeeze her nipples, loving how they feel between your fingers. You take your time with her, admiring how her beautiful face contorts with pleasure at your touch. She’s lost in the moment, and so are you.

Your fingers grip the waistband of her boxers and she lifts her hips off the bed enough for you to tug them off. Your mouth waters at the sight of her glistening pussy, all for you. With that, you lose yourself between her legs again and plant a kiss to her pelvic bone, making her shudder.

“Y/N, por favor,” Miko whimpers, and you give into her pleas, slowly licking upwards before pressing your tongue flat on her clit, making her cry out. Her hand grips the back of your neck, drawing you deeper into her core.

Her moans are music to your ears, giving you all the encouragement you need to keep pleasuring her. She tastes so sweet, her scent intoxicating, like a powerful drug. You wrap y lips around her clit, sucking and making small strokes with your tongue. Her moans grow louder and her grip on my hair tightens as she moves her hips against your tongue, making you get the most out of her.

“Así! Carajo… ahí, más… más!” Miko gasps, her tone desperate, pleading. It makes your heart swell with pride and love for her, knowing that it’s you who’s making her feel this good. Especially on her birthday.

Miko screams your name, her back arched, legs shaking as her orgasm consumes her. You don’t stop until you taste every last bit of her sweetness, and you lick her inner thighs clean of her arousal before hoisting yourself up to kiss her lips. A blissful smile rugs at her lips, her cheeks flushed and her eyelids hooded.

“Eso fue increíble,” she breaths and gently caresses your cheek with her thumb. “Tú eres increíble, mi amor. Eres la mejor regalo de todos.”

Your heart swells at her sweet words. You kiss her forehead, then her nose, and then her lips.

“Feliz cumpleaños, María Victoria. Y que tengas muchos más de aquí en adelante,” you hum as you cuddle your girlfriend close.

“Que sea así, mi amor,” Miko murmurs as she kisses the top of your head. “Just as long as I have you by my side.”

[tothechaos]

i need to start carrying around confetti at all times. to add more pizzazz to life. also a tiny broom to clean it up, because it would be rude to leave confetti around

[hawberries]

you do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting

[firstfullmoon]

hi! Do you have any recommendations for poems on how to make a body a home?

“Physical Therapy” by Franny Choi

“Against Dying” by Kaveh Akbar

“This Is Not the Body I Asked For” by Heather Christle

“Dysphoria” by Oliver Baez Bendorf

“Grass Moon” by Matthew Dickman

“Sway” by Ada Limón

[brigitttt]

I miss you and I love you and I was the only one alone in the office all day and came back home to be alone in the flat so I miss you and I love you ❤️

[laniidae-passerine]

I know some people are talking about Sally and Barry attempting to emulate their mentors in certain situations, which backfires on them, but I don’t think Barry gave up on trying to be Fuches halfway through. Actually, it was a perfect impression. When he started screaming down the line at Hank, it’s because that’s what Fuches does. Whenever Barry tells him firmly that it’s over and he’s not going to help Fuches anymore, Fuches loses his shit; he yells at Barry that he’s pathetic, he won’t survive without him, when I find you motherfucker! Barry’s mistake was failing to recognise that Hank isn’t him. Hank respects himself, genuinely cares about other people and, most importantly, won’t degrade himself just to feel like somebody loves him. But Barry absolutely would and, with all his other damage, that’s why he’s furious that Hank somehow says no to him.

[knivcs]

"Do Stones Feel?" by Mary Oliver, from Devotions

[partialto]

My dad sent me this photo out of nowhere

[marbleheavy]

thinking about how the “you can’t love someone until you love yourself” thing is bullshit!! it ignores the fact that we are meant to connect to each other and to love and that sometimes you experience emotions so intense they must become externalized, like rage or fear, and that part of what makes you capable of bearing your own sorrows is letting someone else hold them too. and in a society that is dead set on convincing people that they are never enough, it’s just asking you to never love anyone, to never let yourself connect. it takes so much work to be alone or to pretend that you are, but people aren’t ever alone. that isn’t to say it doesn’t also take effort to care for people, but the reward is so much greater when you let yourself love people. by loving people around you in any way (romantic, platonic, familial, aesthetically, etc.) you are making yourself just as lovable

[ow-old-men]

wouldn't it be so cool if when the pve for ow2 comes out the story and writing of it all is so horrendously bad that it has a reaction effect within the fandom that kickstarts people making their own versions of the game's story and soon there's fan comics that are 20x better than anything bl*zzard could dream of

I know this is somewhat a joke question, and yes- on the face of it, it would be

But in reality, that would not be the reaction to canon content being bad. Spite can only support you for so long - and more importantly, people are already doing just that; creating. If PvE comes out and is horrendously bad, people will be disappointed, they’ll be angry, they’ll post about how they feared this but had dared to hope, I’ll make a very big and funny and time consuming post writing a fake job application to the blizzard writers or some dumb shit like that. And then some of us will leave and some will stick around and make the same shit posts and drawings and what have you not

It’s all already there, you don’t have to punish yourself waiting around for something you don’t want

So sorry for being overly sincere, but if you want fandom to thrive, you shouldn’t sit around and wait for canon to write itself off for good, you should go out and look for the amazing stuff people are already putting out. Hell, you should make your own! Community and enthusiasm and love will always make better stuff than bitterness

[lilnasxvevo]

The way I would describe the personality difference between teen Wangji and adult Wangji is that teen Wangji has not read Wild Geese by Mary Oliver and adult Wangji has read Wild Geese by Mary Oliver so many times he can recite it backwards