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#But that's a another whole conversation it self
cupcakeslushie · 2 days
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Sorry if Tumblr did not in fact eat this message and you get a duplicate, but I'm confused about some things in the feral Leo AU and was hoping you could provide some clarification without spoilers. What's the purpose of taking Donnie as well, for the Krang? They already have pretty much the perfect pawn with Leo (at least probably in their eyes), so was their goal to eventually get all of the brothers? Does the hivemind include the Technodrome, so they're using him to try and pilot another one? Is Leo brainwashed by the Krang, possessed, or something else entirely? It's not really entirely clear to me at this moment.
And where are April, Casey, and Splinter during this entire debacle?
Sorry I got it, I just haven’t had much time, until today to go into my inbox!
Kraang’s whole thing is consume or control, so yeah, they want all the turtles under their command, because they can see their strength. Of course they’d try to assimilate them into their new army.
The hive mind doesn’t necessarily include the Technodrome. It’s a separate consciousness that they control. They have full access to it, but the Technodrome isn’t given the same courtesy. It obeys whoever is at the helm, and the Kraang don’t converse with it. Only give it orders. Since Brother Kraang is dead, yes. They need a new pilot/source for the start of their new Technodrome. We’ll just have to see what their plans are for Donnie.
Leo’s part of the hive mind right now. Prime forged the link during their time together in the prison dimension. Leo didn’t realize that type of connection of control was there, and was kinda activated like a sleeper agent. Once Mikey gets rid of the link, Leo will be back to his feral—but less murderous, healing self.
Casey, April, and Splinter are gonna be in the next update, they were coming up a second or two behind Mikey, but if I wanted to add them in it would’ve meant more panels, and at least another week’s wait until I could upload it. I had to finish it and put it out before my “weekend” was up.
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suraemoon · 12 hours
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Could I please request jealous Rosie hcs or Rosie reaction when you are the initiate the first move hcs. Thank you 😊
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I’ll admit right now that the turn out time for this is embarrassing. You’ve caught me in…I think the most stressful week of 2024 so far buttt here we are. My deepest apologies. I’ll be better. Here’s some Rosie. 🌹
Jealousy, Jealousy:
Rosie is very protective of his girl but not overbearing. He knows how secure the relationship is and trusts you to make good decisions. But, of course he notices when another man is getting a little too friendly. When at public places, Rosie doesn’t usually get far enough away for stuff to like this to happen, but due to how drop dead gorgeous you are (the pretty smile that can brighten up anyone’s day, the sparkling eyes that resemble a steady pond, the million dollar legs that give Betty Grable a run for her money) the bold men stay bold. Laughing at things that aren’t meant to be jokes, getting a little too close, etc. He is the king of passive aggression and snark. It’s so obvious that he’s annoyed. Just by the tone of his voice, anyone with common sense can tell he isn’t amused.
An arm wrapped around your waist, interlocking fingers, a random kiss to the temple.
Increased use of the words “us” and “we”
Just plain out saying that you’re his ____ (girlfriend, fiancée, wife, etc)
He’s not subtle but that’s because he has no reason *to* be subtle. He’ll happily let the whole would know he’s yours and you’re his. He’ll redirect conversations, end them as soon as possible, whisk you away into the crowd.
The next day he casually comes across the same man while you’re at home, safe and absolutely clueless of the intersection. That talk isn’t pretty, I’ll tell you that. He’s a lawyer, he has a way with words. It’s direct, serious, and straight to the point. It’s in his job description to argue but it isn’t really an argument, due to the fact that the other man is left terrified of Rosie. Stood frozen in place, shocked. It’s like getting yelled at by a stern parent. Let’s just say…you never see that man again and if you do, he steers clear of your path like you’re a black cat on a halloween night.
A Feminine First Move:
Anon, you’ve got the thought of Rosie’s reaction to a girl making the first move stuck in my head and it’s so adorable. I’m thinking it happens when he first comes to Thorpe Abbotts and is so awkward and dorky. (Talking about flying planes in underwear, you know…the usual) His nickname is Rosie for more reasons then one, he has the prettiest blush. When you walk up to him offering a drink at the bar followed by a slow dance to the romantic jazz of the band, his cheeks are a shade of pink for the whole rest of the night. He’s taken back over how a girl as pretty as you can be so invested, so quick. Imagine his awkward conversation fillers; your siren eyes are so distracting, staring deep into his soul. You listen intently to every single word, a trait that’s appreciated but nervewracking at the same time. He stutters as he talks, trying not to bring up anything embarrassing that would bring it all to ruin.
He tries to keep up with your flirting by replying with some romantic remarks of his own. Soon he gets into the groove and you two have such a magnetic energy. It’s dazzling, it’s exciting, it’s everything. He really gets into his element once the surprise wears off. That doesn’t stop him from reverting back to his dorky, adorable self once you give him a kiss goodnight, your red lipstick on his pink cheek. He waits until your out of sight to dance his way to bed. You two dream of eachother that night. It’s the blossoming of something new, something special.
the dancing i’m talking about lol
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goodluckclove · 2 days
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An Open Letter to a Professional Author
I came across a writer here who I imagine will probably never see this, but their presence was enough to make me pretty mad for two days now. I've decided to pen a little statement to this Long-Term, Professional, Full-Time, Published Author who makes a habit out of being deeply unpleasant in a way that apparently has only attracted an audience of other deeply unpleasant people.
People here seem to like it when I get mad. So, uh, enjoy?
Dear Professional Author,
I came across a post of yours on some feed here the other day and enjoyed your commentary. It was one of those writing memes that sort of called attention to actually writing as opposed to just thinking about your project - the kind that people usually respond to with some sort of joke expressing their repulsion at the concept.
You responded with distaste and I generally agreed. The tone was a little aggressive for me, but that kind of humor also leaves me generally confused. I personally ended up concluding that the self-deprecating humor was a coping mechanism for a larger issue that keeps these people from writing - intimidation, lack of confidence, physical or mental pain, things like that. You seemed to think it was a matter of will, which I found to be an approach that at the very least was well-intentioned.
Turns out it wasn't.
First off, I should say that this isn't about your political beliefs. Your political beliefs that are really more like general human beliefs. I don't want to get into that. Instead, I just want to talk about your writing. You are a full-time, published author, as you say in nearly post where you talk about writing. A major point of pride to you seems to be the fact that you are traditionally published. Any other method doesn't seem to be as legitimate to you. That's interesting to me.
You also don't seem to have much of an audience outside of people who mainly come to agree with your politics. I didn't really see a single positive interaction between you and another writer on here for as much as I was willing to scroll through your blog. That's also interesting to me.
I didn't spent too much time on your blog once I realized that you were definitely not the kind of person I would ever want any interaction with. What I did want to do is use your presence indirectly to prove a point that I've been wanting to get into for some time now.
To put it simply, I'll say this: a career in professional writing is not actually as cool or important as you might think it is.
Now I'll be direct and say that I've never been traditionally published for anything longer than a short story or long-term, unpaid column. You don't give any details on any of your writing, as far as I've seen (Once again - interesting!), so there's a chance you've made more in contracts and royalties than I have. But I'm a working writer. I've had a career in ghostwriting and technical writing. I've written and produced plays that have been featured in festivals in multiple states. I'm not speaking from a place of no experience, is what I mean to say.
What I also mean to say is that - while I view writing in many ways as a spiritual and healing act that I couldn't live without - it's also a job. It's not always exciting, and even when it is exciting it's only exciting to me. I consider the best date night to be when my wife works on video game development while I write my draft. I leave the house on a regular basis, but it's mainly to go to different places to write.
In short - I love to write, but I don't think it makes me cool. Or interesting. Or valuable. Or intelligent. Or just generally fun to be around and talk to. These are things I strive to cultivate in other aspects of the way I live and grow as a human being on this planet.
Being a Professional Author in one particular genre doesn't give you authority over the craft as a whole. You can't just throw yourself into conversations and start with I'm a published writer and assume that means you have the final say on any discussion. Believe it or not, in many cases it does not matter.
Lots of people are published traditionally, and it does prove some level of validity in their line of work. But there are a huge variety of people in the world of trad pub. There are people who write books in genres that don't apply to writers here. There are people who write books that aren't very good. There are even people who write trad pub books that are very good, but their careers are sullied by the fact that the authors themselves are not good people.
Being a successful writer does not mean you're a good person. Being a writer at all does not mean you are a good person. I believe in Death of the Author to an extent, but when that author insists on making a presence on a public website and doling out advice and opinions to other writers the lines start to blur considerably.
Writing is a job. You work it over a period of time and learn skills and strategies that work for you. The same applies to virtually every other job, including ones that society views as less romantic as something in the arts. Can you imagine me breaking into your home while you're making lunch and telling you how to arrange your cheese slices based on what I know as a full-time, professional sandwich artist at Subway? You might be interested based on leaning something you didn't know about a place you might've eaten at before. But that does not entitle me to your respect on its own.
I am not entitled to your respect based on how well I learned how to make a sandwich based on my hypothetical career at Subway. Just as I don't deserve it solely because I know two card tricks, can get out a variety of stains, read most of the works of the major beatniks, can make a really good carbonara, or any other specific about my life that ultimately does not play a huge part in who I am as a person.
When I am on my death bed, I hope to god the core of my character was not the fact that I typed stories from my brain until I got carpal tunnel. If my obituary begins and ends at "writer", no matter how positive the qualifier is before that, it will be the greatest failure of my life.
Because I am a writer. But that does not matter. It does not matter if you're a writer. It can be fun and enjoyable if you are, even better if you make a living at it, but it doesn't mean you'll be happy. It doesn't mean people will like you or perceive you to be the leader and teacher you might think you are. It certainly doesn't give you a free pass to throw cruelty at strangers for truly no real reason.
Professional Author, you had a chance to raise up the next generation of an industry I assume you must value. You're choosing not to, and that's fine. You don't have the obligation to. You do have the choice to not get involved and pretend to give advice that ranges from vague to untrue. You seem to be taking that responsibility very seriously.
It's like some twist on crab mentality, where instead of dragging crabs trying to escape the bucket you're swiping at anyone who tries to crawl in with you. Then, as they struggle, you're looking down at them and making comments on how easy it is to get in the bucket, if you only just do it and maybe read some books.
To all of us, I say this: question authority, even in the arts. Especially in the arts. Nobody knows as much as they say. That includes me, but I do know this - any branch of publishing feels really good. It's scary but it's fun. If you're traditional published or indie published or self published, it says nothing about how good your book is or how good you are as a writer or how valuable you are as a human being.
Don't be this lonely bucket crab. They seem mean and I'm tired of talking about them.
Best Regards,
Clove
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st-dionysus · 7 months
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We've had strap ons since at least 400 BC, and people still have the nerve to go on gay hook up apps and ask "how can an FTM be a top?"
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revvethasmythh · 9 months
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Caleb: Part of me is selfish and wants to carve [what I did] out of my past
Nott: That's not selfish. That's important
Caleb: It's dangerous, not just to me
Nott: Oh. Well, I think I understand a little of that, too. There are things I want to change as well. Things.....that would be risky to change. But sometimes you have to take a big risk, if it's that important.
Caleb: That is true. You are my greatest friend
Nott: Little 'ole me?
Caleb: I like you because you are funny, but it's more than that. We will get you what you want. Even if there is some risk. Because if it's really important, it's worth the risk, ja?
Nott, steeling herself: Yes.
THE LAYERS. THE LACK OF CONTEXT. THE FRIENDSHIP. INCREDIBLE ALL AROUND.
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arcadianico · 11 months
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it makes so much sense that quackity couldn’t talk to SOPHIA about love without also talking about grief btw. the two are so intertwined in the smp as a whole but especially in qquackity’s story. his love and grief are inextricable from each other, they’re symbiotic
#he refuses to talk about his feelings for wilbur as love. because he knows its not#its attraction yeah but not love. they barely know each other#also i maintain that his desire for wilbur is less about wilbur and more about the role wilbur can fill or should have filled in his life#quackity’s obsession with wilbur is fundamentally tied into his grief for tilín#literally the whole thing is about q thinking wilbur was meant to be his partner and therefore also tilín’s other parent#and that massively colours how q views both wilbur and tallulah#that’s why he’s been so obsessed#his talk about roier and cellbit was cute but really when he was describing love he wasn’t talking about them because so much of what he#said doesn’t apply to spiderbit’s relationship at least yet#(there’s still time)#but there’s a reason he couldn’t help but circle back to tilín#tilín has been q’s biggest motivator for most of the series in one way or another#his relationship with tilín might have been doomed but that doesn’t mean he didn’t love them#he loved them to the point of self destruction#and after that conversation with SOPHIA i think he’s only now picking up the pieces#or even examining them in detail#the grief and love he has towards tilín have been overshadowing him this whole time and he hasn’t dealt with it#idk he’s tried at points but he always falls back on denial and pretending he’s fine#maybe because he feels like letting go of any part of his grief is like letting go of his love for tilín and he doesn’t want to do that#after all they are two sides of the same coin#god this is a ramble anyway#quackity#sophia qsmp#tilín#tilin#qsmp
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tortoisesshells · 2 months
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65.
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5yn · 11 months
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Shaddiq's speech about his ideologies and motivations should've been directed at Miorine instead of freaking Guel who he has negative narrative chemistry with but I can only assume Shaddiq himself would've stopped the writers from making that a reality because Miorine's heart is too delicate to understand his resentment of the system and she belongs in a nice garden on earth that he would've given to her after he takes over because he's so thoughtful and nice like that
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warmpants · 1 year
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Sometimes you just have to have a “but what if nobody ever finds me desirable as a man” moment. And then go to sleep
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bisaster-energy · 1 year
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literally don't listen to the oh hellos valley album if thinking about sam winchester makes u feel anything because those songs are so fucking samcoded it'll tear ur heart out
#listening to second child restless child like 😐😶#IN MEMORIAM BUT INSTEAD OF A SON RETURNING TO A FATHER.#it's well. you know.#I actually related some of them to cas but those two are like 🤞#WISHING WELL??? OUGHHHH#i made mistakes do i even need to delve#that entire album can go into a Sam playlist unedited#if u can't tell I'm currently crying listening to this album ATM#i don't talk about sam enough but if i cared about him less i could talk about him more#but srsly the thing about sam and cas is that they do both want salvation. some forgiveness.#assurance that they're not some broken evil thing meant for nothing more than proving time and time again that that's all they'll ever be#and that assurance hinges on dean wayyyyy too much but that's another conversation#monstrous. other. that's THEM and they ache with want to repent but. how can u repent unless u change?#so sam attempts to mold himself into a normal shape stuff his self into a cardboard cutout of what he THINKS is correct#and we know cas is like is a drawing is done and then someone hit the erase all button over and over#but once he escapes the lobotomies he is still trying to be something else to some extent. he couldn't be a good angel#so he tries to be a good human but he can't even achieve that much so he's left looking in from the outside and#tells himself it's not that cold out anyway that this suits him better#does dean know why cas lingers at the doorway. does he know that sam is scraping at his walls fit to burst.#anyway the whole world would benefit from a more fleshed out sastiel relationship regardless of what kind#im in my feelings rn sorry for spn posting do u still think im hot :/#cee's bullshit
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pearlywritings · 24 days
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Intimacy records
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synopsis: what kinds of horny stuff they have in their phones and which is the favorite?
pairing and characters: Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Dr Ratio, Gallagher, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Loucha, Sampo, Sunday (separately) x fem!reader
tw: SMUT, established relationship (marriage/dating), consensual recording of lovemaking, nudes, oral, lingerie, fingering, masturbation, public sex, breast play, shibari/blindfold, sex machine, creampie
word count: 4.3k+ words
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Aventurine
Undoubtedly this man has a whole separate folder for intimate stuff. Of course, he demands you send him something on a daily basis - doesn’t matter if it’s a quick snap of your choice of lingerie in the morning, or recordings of touching yourself - but never enough to cum, it’s his job. Naturally he loves having reminders of you being at his mercy - thus there are also videos of you both (with primarily established consent). All that to say - he has quite the collection, so it’s really hard to pick a favorite, the most desire-arising one.
Maybe it’s a category actually - self-made media created out of bet. Who’ll cum first? Can you keep going without tearing up from pleasure for longer than 10 minutes? Is he patient enough not to touch your sexy self, while you masturbate in front of him? Who is going to be louder this time? These kinds.
”I hope you are ready to lose,” your lover smirks, making himself comfortable between your legs. Camera floats a little, as you chuckle behind it. With a momentary adjustment, the focus is on his face again and he winks, before turning to trail a little path of kisses across your thigh. The image jumps, when he sucks on the skin, and slightly trembles as you let out a sigh. Then it’s firm, as Aventurine wraps his arms around your thighs, his nose teasingly rubbing against your clit. Suddenly there is a lick, then your breath hitches…. And then he buries his mouth into your pussy. It doesn’t take much time for the image to begin shaking wildly, almost matching your debauched noises. There is squelching, there are award-winning male moans, muffled by your heat, soon there is a hand, your hand, reaching down and grabbing his hair. Phone strangely angles, hardly supported by just one hand, until it falls camera down onto the shits. After that, there are just delicious screams of yours, chanting the name of your lover and begging him to stop, while he doesn’t listen, taking his reward for yet another win.
Yeah, he proved you can’t keep the camera focused while he is eating you out in that one. It’s truly a pity, that more than a half of what was going on, didn’t get recorded in image. Maybe next time you'll do better - oh... That's actually not a bad idea at all… Looks like you are in for another bet.
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Blade
His situation is… quite peculiar. First of all, he has so little care for his own phone outside using it to get info for the mission, to the point ANYONE from the Stellaron Hunters can just take it and do whatever with it (Silver Wolf and Kafka practice it a lot). Even your relationship doesn’t change it much, he messages you rarely and quite shortly, preferring to save the conversation for personal interaction. 
However recently, Kafka has been putting a plan into action - the first step of which was banning everyone from getting into his phone (herself excluded). Then she’d start sending her colleague an occasional picture of a set of lingerie she’s oh so sure would look wonderful on you. Blade never answers, but he doesn’t tell her off either, and by the snooping she knows that the pictures get bookmarked, the links for the shops she attaches are visited, and sums of money are being spent.
Oh, and by checking the chat… She knows you get them delivered. Does she text you to shower you with compliments? She does. At first it was a little embarrassing and you asked Blade if he could, maybe, pay better attention to his phone??? But soon, when your lover started showing the telltale signs of jealousy... It became pretty hot (plus praise from THE Kafka? Ego-boosting).
Blade doesn’t voice it, but more than seeing you all pretty for him, he loves seeing you ruined for him, and doesn’t complain when you ask him to take a picture with your phone of whatever part of you, focusing on the marks, or the torn crotch of your panties, or something alike… There are times when he would text you with a simple ‘send me pictures with torn stockings’ or ‘yesterday. open nipples bra. now’ , because he knows you have them, and you deliver, because you know he loves them. 
Has his favorites:
Depicts your thighs, bitten and opened wide, while the black panties are pushed aside to let two thick, scar-covered fingers dive into your pussy.
Your body after one of the sessions - bra roughly pushed down under the mark-covered breasts, panties missing, one stocking still on the leg, but with multiple holes in it, and the other tying your wrists above your head.
A small video you insisted on recording of the man tugging onto your garter belt whenever he wanted your hips to push towards his thrust, threatening for the thin elastic material to snap.
Even though he doesn’t save them, he knows how to get an easy access to them, so for Blade it works quite fine (and Kafka’s plan does too, making Blade look less intimacy-repulsed and spicing up your relationship).
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Boothill
A cyborg, whose only human part of the body is the head, and sex life… How can this be possible? 
Oh, trust me, it can. Sure, his bodily reaction differs, but he still is excited to get nudes from you, finally able to express through the text what he really thinks with that foul mouth of his. A voice recording of you dirty talking to him? Awesome. A video? You can bet his engine is overheating and vents are whirring.
But in all honesty, the ones he truly loves and returns to are the recordings of him doing stuff to you. Call him self-conscious, it’s not like he can bite back with a swear, but the reminder that he can bring you pleasure even now is sometimes necessary.
The lights are intimately dimmed, not enough to bring the room into utter darkness. Two bodies are lying almost intertwined with your back turned to the camera. The metal arm of your lover has sneaked under your side and around your waist, fingers digging into the plush glob of your ass, tugging on it, to further the spread which is created by your leg thrown over his hip. Your pussy is perfectly presented to the camera, puffy and slick, with two gray plated fingers massaging it. Digits slide up and down your labia, occasionally staying on the clit, to rub tight circles on it and elicit some sweet moans out of you, only to return to their previous ministrations, dipping the tips juuust a little bit into the quivering hole. Your back arches and body deliciously shivers from the contrast of his cool and your heat, and you softly whine, when he releases your ass cheek to give it a spank and then grab it again, unwilling to let the sight of your cunt escape his phone’s camera. You whimper something, muffled by his chest, but he remembers by heart what you were begging for. ‘Please, put your mouth on me.’ He will, in a minute, but right now he pushes both fingers to the second knuckle in, making you jolt in his hold, but not letting you go anywhere.
It’s captivating, how his inhuman digits disappear and reappear with every thrust he makes; slick-covered they look shiny, as if you polished them, and the cyborg shudders, imagining your tongue running around them. That’s one dangerous video, he may just give in to his want to see you and abandon the mission he was assigned to…
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Dr Veritas Ratio
Unsurprisingly, Veritas’ phone doesn’t contain that much stuff in general. Maybe some downloaded articles, notes to put down later, if he doesn’t have a piece of paper at the moment, and very few pictures, mainly of his writings on the chalkboard. Don’t be discouraged though, of course he has pictures of you. Some selfies you took after “borrowing” his phone and ones he doesn’t have a heart to delete (but he will scoff at you, should you decide to tease him), and some very well-thought images he took on his own accord - he needs reference for when he decides to let his mind rest from research and focus on sculpting.
And one might think that such a reserved and cold man will not entertain storing anything explicit on his phone. Well, he indeed does not have any pictures and videos saved - if he wants, he can either find what you sent him via your chat or just demand your assistance. However… There is something that strangely became his way of concentrating when doing his research…
”Oh! Mh- *thrust* Veri- ohmygod! *thrust*”
“Wait- Aaah! I can’t! I’m sore! MmmmMMM!” “No, you can and you will. Now hold still, I can’t eat you out if you keep thrashing around.” “Oh Aeons!”
*Slick sounds of you going down on him, gurgling and choking on his girth, occasionally gasping to catch your breath, only to have his cock buried in your throat again*
“Baaaby… I miss you so much… Can I come to your office? I promise to be good… Just need to cockwarm you - nothing else I swear. Let me keep you company pleeease. Imagine how nicely it'd be to have your cock buried in my pussy, while you are working… Need to help you with stress-relief, it's gonna feel so-so good.”
“Oh fuck, o-oh, love, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I’mcumMIN-” “Ngh, s-so…tight…” “Aaaaaaah~!”
“Veritas Ratio, if you come home in ten minutes, I will give you a nice massage and then ride you damn cock, till the only thing you can think about is not your work, but me. If you fail to do so though… I wonder if my threat to use some toys instead will work. Just know that your wife is very mad. And horny.”
It doesn't matter if the audio was taken while you were intimate or it was something you sent to him and he saved - he thoroughly enjoys everything your voice has to offer to him. And if instead of concentrated it accidentally makes him horny - he'll just play the next one, while undoing his pants.
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Gallagher
Oh, this man is a menace. And a huge ass-lover. His gallery is full of pictures of your booty: clothed, just panty-clad or bare. There are shots with your body clearly being bent, ass up and back covered in his load. Videos of him fucking you from behind, with cock sliding in and out of your pussy? Obviously. Recordings of it jiggling as he spanks you? Would’ve been strange if they weren’t there.
However, in that vast collection of his, there is a video that’s most peculiar - one might say scandalous. It was one of those nights when he took over the bar for Siobhan and you came over at some point, all enticing and so sexy in that little dress of yours… He could not resist taking you right there once the establishment was closed. And it got on security camera...
Moans so loud, that they are reaching the recording device, are still of the delicious kind. Your back is arched over the bar counter, arms lifted and wrists tied by none other but Gallagher’s wine-red tie, and held by his own hand for good measure. The front of your dress is pushed down, revealing your pretty breasts, jiggling with every thrust of the man’s hips, and the hem of it has ridden up, baring your stomach and mark-covered thighs. Your lover is barely unclothed, pants and boxers pushed down just enough to free his cock and the tie, obviously, missing. The hand that is not holding your wrists, is grabbing onto your leg, under the knee, lifting it for a better angle, and showing off a lewd detail - your black lace panties hanging on your shin. You are looking positively debauched, and he is no better, groaning and cursing, with an occasional exceptionally rough trust that makes you scream and whine. There are teeth-gritted ‘slut’s and huskily chuckled ‘bad girl’s with your pleading ‘sir’s and ‘Gal’s, all of that deliciously seasoned with the clapping of the wet skin colliding. But nothing beats the moment of you cumming, depicted by no less than three cameras from all of the hottest angles…
Of course this footage was ‘confiscated’ by him with some dumb excuse for Siobhan (he doubts she believed it, given the knowing look and shit-eating grin she gave him), with all traces destroyed except just one copy thoroughly hidden on his phone. He thinks you two should repeat that - this time, however, he’d love to bend you over the counter with your back facing him…
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Gepard Landau
Gepard would die if someone took his phone and got into his gallery. Poor man has to change the password weekly to throw Serval off his case (she was only teasing, but that made her brother paranoid). There is a reason for such behavior - while he is way too sweet and gentlemanly to suggest making sexy pics or, Supreme Guardian forgive, videos, he can't help but to be too whipped for you. 
This man dutifully saves every single photo and video of yours - nudes included.
You don't send them very often - you don't want to kill your darling husband. But sometimes the yearning is unbearable, and there is a suffocating need to show Gepard what he is missing while away on duty (you always leave a warning message though, so he could check it while alone and undisturbed).
No matter how red and embarrassed he gets, the man timidly admits that he enjoys this kind of attention. He is not beyond the earthly pleasures - he too has a favorite theme, that recently became more present in what you send him…
At first you looked so absolutely cute and domestic with his huge sweater on, the one you personally knitted for him - the beginning of the video didn’t look all that different from the photos you sent him just minutes before. But soon it becomes clear why you asked if he was alone, because once you position the phone and climb onto the bed, your full attire gets revealed. White stockings are replacing your usual home pants, and as your fingers grab the hem of the sweater and tug it up, the white panties from a matching set start peaking. The view is both pure and alluring, with the way your legs are spreading wide, and the sweater being pushed further up, baring your braless breasts. The hem gets secured between your teeth and both hands teasingly run down your sides, index fingers drawing circles around the tits, before squeezing them; as one remains right there, the other slowly slides down your stomach, disappearing under the hem of those flimsy panties. Imagination paints wild images - every next is hotter than the previous, and only your muffled moans of his name and rapidly rising chest are indicators of how good you feel with fingers pushing in and out of your pussy. And that damn sweater… You are not taking it off.
The Captain of the Silvermane Guards has one guilty pleasure - you, wearing his clothes. Domesticity, longing, finding comfort in something of his touches his heart and heightens his love and desire for you, almost making him consider taking a regular day off.
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Jing Yuan
This man literally worships the ground his wife is walking on, so OF COURSE he wants to have as many pictures and videos of you as possible. It gets so boring and lonely when he is at work, after all. But don’t be fooled by his sweet and innocent smile, there are not only cute shots of you both or just you, he has sexy stuff too.
Man is obsessed with your chest. It’s his favorite pillow (thus so many pictures of him snuggling his face right between your breasts), his best stress-relief (photos and short videos of his big veiny hands cupping and squeezing your girls, with an occasional swipe of the thumbs over the erect nipples), his favorite place to leave marks on (no one can see them under the clothes, but just one tug of his finger on your collar and he is met with a delicious sight. Plus the photos he asks to send occasionally).
Loves, loves, loves, purchasing lingerie for you and when you demonstrate your bra-clad tits. He immediately wants them in his face, but there is the phone screen keeping him away.
But oh does he love recordings of playing with them.
Your body is steadily bouncing on your husband’s lap, creating a beautiful melody of skin slapping against skin. There is an occasional peak of his thick cock, covered in your juices, that immediately disappears again, undoubtedly swallowed by your pussy. One strong arm is wrapped around your waist, supporting you, while the other hand is palming at your left breast. The right one has fallen victim to his eager mouth, lips wrapped around the nipple, sucking on it tenderly, tongue toying with the overstimulated nub. His eyes are half-lidded when he looks up at you, moaning around your breast, when you tug on his luscious locks, trying to push him away, to give you a small rest. He is drawing back indeed, planting a soft kiss to the valley between the jiggling globes, and you sigh in relief, deceived by his affectionate action. Only for you back to arch and mouth hang in a loud moan, when Jing Yuan brings your other breast to his awaiting tongue, dropping both hands to your hips to aid you in speeding up your riding, sensing your nearing orgasm.
Maybe next time you should try recording him making you cum by playing with your chest only… Ah, just the thought makes his cock swell.
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Loucha
As much as Loucha enjoys your company and more often than not allows you to accompany him in his journeys, there are times when he can’t take you with him. Which means he leaves for weeks, or sometimes a couple of months, going through the days without a single touch from you. Before getting into a relationship with you, he could survive without intimacy just fine, but now, since he knows the taste of affection and being spoiled by you, it’s getting hard.
That’s when recordings on his phone come in handy, especially when there is no opportunity of a video call to indulge. And there is one he most frequently returns to…
Your chest is rising and falling, pretty breasts with perky nipples brought together by a wrap of a rope. Red and purple marks bloom on your skin akin flowers, some fresh, some from days before. Sweat shines on your hot skin, indicating just for how long the blonde has been torturing you with pleasure and denial. There is a small shake of the video, as your lover is establishing his phone, having just started the recording, and softly making you aware of how good you look - you wouldn’t know with that blindfold covering your eyes. Once the angle is perfect - capturing your arms, tied above the head, the arch of your back and thighs pushed together for stimulation, the man is joining you on the bed. It is cock-hardening, how you lift your head to find his lips, when you sense him leaning down, needily allowing him to indulge in a kiss before the game of orgasm denial continues. His hand meanwhile is creeping down your body, starting with caressing your cheek, fingers sliding down your neck, over the swell of your breast, thumb pushing against the nipple, eliciting a moan out of you right into his mouth, and then palm splaying on your stomach, traveling even lower, before it disappears between your thighs.
Loucha is a man of foreplay. There is nothing more satisfying to him, than indulging into your body before sinking his cock into your warmth. He loves making you squirm, completely at his mercy, drawing you right to the edge, and then denying you the sweet release, just to make you yearn, just to stretch the process out.
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Sampo Koski
Sampo is nasty and that is not a secret. I am sure, if you were up for it, he’d suggest filming porn just for the giggles (and extra cash, come on, you both are fucking hot). There are teasing nudes and intimate videos, and it’s not a rare occasion of either of you texting the other with some found porn with a caption ‘let’s try it?’ and you do, frequently recording the process to compare later, and claiming that your performance is better.
However, sometimes it tends to not go according to the script (not like you usually have one). Sampo is chaotic and it’s not hard to lose focus with a lover like him, and these exact moments are Koski’s favorite. Despite being a Masked Fool, during these times he himself looks so sincere, it’s as unnerving, as it is exciting. Rewatching such videos and seeing how you mirror the look in his eyes, giggle with him, even crack a joke, all without ruining the mood - makes him believe he’s found his soulmate (and if you did film porn with him, he’d never share this level of intimacy with your viewers, it solely belongs to you two).
You are giggling, shaking your head with a wide smile, all the while lying on your stomach between his toned mark-covered thighs and leisurely fisting his hard, leaking cock with an angrily red tip. 
‘Sampo, please, be a little serious, we are trying to be sexy here.’
‘We are sexy! What’s not hot in shaping my and your pubic hairs into the lips?? They could kiss, when we fuck!’
‘You are unbelievable,’ you snort, trying to save the last bits of your composure, and leaning forward to mouth at his tight balls. This makes your lover pornographically (how ironic) moan, throwing his head back.
‘Mmm, yes, right there~ Oooh… If am soooo unbelievable, it must mean I am dreamy? How about I bring you to a Penacony, to a Dreamscape? I bet in your dream I’d be as good in bed as I am in reality.’
Your resolve snaps and you burst out laughing, letting go of his sack and pressing your face to his thigh, shaking, dropping the hand from around his cock. Sampo whines.
‘Come ooooon, I was so close!’
‘Shu-ah-ha-t-ah-uh-p,’ you manage through your laughter. The man pouts, but the gaze of mint green is summer-warm as he is looking down at your trembling form. Your voice is pretty, your cackles are pretty, and oh damn he is laughing too.
And these are just the first few minutes of the last video, the thing has a duration of half an hour, so, obviously, you didn’t stop there. That’s what Sampo Koski loves - no matter how cringe you become, it’s never a reason to stop the whole process. If anything it’s something to spark an even longer and intimacy-filled one.
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Sunday
Keeping personal stuff on his phone is quite dangerous, given Sunday’s position. That’s why he owns two phones - his work one, and one to mainly contact you, his sister, and a small circle of the most trusted people. He is extremely good at handling the owning of two separate devices, never mistaking one for another, that people are often convinced he has only one.
But it’s his personal cellphone that interests us. Oh, does he have a whole collection of photos and videos of you, one folder in particular hidden just for good measure. Sunday is a collected and regal man, yet it doesn’t mean he has a hard time enjoying your teasing. Quite contrary, sometimes he welcomes it, loving the photos you send him from an outing, shopping for clothes, or better yet, lingerie, sending him multiple shots of different sets and asking him which he loves most, and which he’d like to see on you tonight. 
There are videos too, especially when he’s been extremely busy, and you are oh so needy, sending him short recordings of touching yourself, sighing out his name, begging him to come and help you. However, there is one he particularly likes…
Big silicone cock is being pushed in and out by the machine he purchased for you to quell your need when your husband can’t be there for you. You are on your stomach, with hips slightly raised and pushed backwards, chasing the toy, and he can see the perfect outline of your pussy, outer lips swollen and puffy, covered in a sticky substance, opening and constricting in attempts to accommodate the girth. Your moans are sweet, so-so sweet, hitting a high pitch, when the dildo falls out and a thick glob of cum substitute escapes your pussy. And then another, and another, messing your thighs even more, ruining the towel underneath you. Yet you don’t stop, reaching behind, and pushing the tip back into your tight warmth, making the toy pick its pace again. It’s squelching, it’s so dirty, but it’s so hard to look away. You give yourself creampie, after creampie, sometimes stopping to collect the substance and push it inside with your digits, fingering, moaning and whining for your husband, wishing it’s his cum sploshing between your walls, breeding you.
Yes, it’s his favorite, almost 4-minute video. Ever the neat freak, he can’t deny you look heavenly when ruined, on an equally ruined bed, begging for his attention and semen. You have to forget about the machine for some time, however, because since then Sunday has been truly devoted to breeding you.
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tgcg · 4 months
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candid detail. my biggest project so far
hey happy new year
CG: DAVE?
TG: yeah?
CG: SOMETHING’S KIND OF FUCKING ME UP RIGHT NOW AND I NEED TO TELL YOU SPECIFICALLY ABOUT IT IN CANDID DETAIL.
TG: oh shit
===
TG: yeah whats up
TG: not too often i get to be the sole audience to karkats grievances
CG: PFF, BULLSHIT. YOU'RE PRIVY TO WAY MORE ABOUT MY GRIEVANCES THAN BASICALLY ANY OF MY SURVIVING AND PRESENT FRIENDS, BY A SIGNIFICANT MARGIN, AND YOU KNOW IT.
TG: yeah and im boutta add another im like broses up on that hill bundled up in a long ass list of things that make the homies upset
TG: lay it on me
===
CG: OKAY. SO.
CG: I’M KIND OF THINKING ABOUT JUST. US AND OUR BRO-DOM.
===
TG: oh
CG: LET ME FINISH.
CG: ALL THIS TIME I’VE BEEN FUCKING FORCED TO SPEND IN THE DREAM BUBBLES MADE ME REALISE SOMETHING, AND THAT’S THAT…
===
CG: THIS IS KIND OF RARE, RIGHT?
TG: what
TG: us
CG: YEAH! LIKE… THERE’S SO MANY THANKFULLY DEAD KARKATS I’VE HAD THE INSURMOUNTABLE GODDAMN DISPLEASURE OF FAILING TO AVOID THAT DON’T LIKE YOU, BARELY MET YOU, OR EVEN JUST DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU.
===
CG: IT’S THE RARE AMBIVALENCE THAT REALLY GETS TO ME. I ABSOLUTELY UNDERSTAND A TIMELINE’S KARKAT FIRMLY DECIDING THAT THEY HATE YOUR ASS. NON-ROMANTICALLY I MEAN. THAT HAS BEEN ME, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. BUT THERE WAS NEVER, EVER!!! A POINT WHERE I JUST FELT NOTHING ABOUT YOU AT ALL.
CG: EVEN WHEN I INITIALLY HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF SEEING YOUR DOUCHEBAG SPECTACLES YOU GOT FROM YOUR BRO ON THE SCREEN, I AT LEAST HAD A STARTER DISH OF SKEWERED CONTEMPT TO WHET MY APPETITE. IT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO IMAGINE NOT FEELING ONE WAY OR ANOTHER ABOUT YOU.
===
CG: ONE TIME I MENTIONED YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF A THREE-WAY ARGUMENT AND ONE OF THE OTHER KARKATS SAID "WHO?"
CG: "WHO?"!!!!
TG: now thats fucked up
CG: IT IS! AND THAT'S WHAT MADE ME FIRST REALISE THAT NOT EVERY KARKAT IS GETTING TO HANG OUT WITH EVERY DAVE, AND VICE VERSA. AND THIS IS GOING TO SOUND LAME AS SHIT IN A WAY THAT I’LL NEVER EVER LIVE DOWN, BUT. I FEEL BAD FOR THEM ABOUT IT! YOU KNOW?
===
TG: well you always feel bad about around and towards other yous so thats
TG: wait
TG: is or is not the nature of this moment of self-pity fuelled by malice anger disgust or any similar terms slash phrases
CG: I MEAN, FOR ONCE? DON’T GET ME WRONG, THE MALICE ANGER DISGUST ET CETERA IS STILL THOROUGHLY PERMEATING THE WHOLE ORDEAL. THE DAY I LOSE CONTEMPT FOR MY ALTERNATE SELVES IS THE DAY I GET TAKEN OUT BACK AND PUT DOWN LIKE THE LAME HOOFBEAST I’VE ALWAYS DREAMT OF BEING. BUT…
CG: I ACTUALLY JUST FEEL SAD FOR THEM, STRAIGHT UP. INDEPENDENT FROM TERMS PREVIOUSLY MENTIONED.
===
TG: damn
CG: AND THAT FEELS INCREDIBLY WEIRD TOO. I CAN’T EVEN ARGUE WITH THEM ABOUT IT, IT JUST MAKES ME FEEL THIS SHITTY, SHOCKINGLY QUIET… GRIEF? ALMOST? FOR THEM. GENERAL NON-TROLLIAN FEELINGS. AND EXCEPTIONALLY NON-STANDARD IN A KARKAT-TO-KARKAT CONVERSATION, AS YOU MIGHT HAVE GUESSED.
CG: BUT I KNOW IF I TOLD ANY OTHER EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED REFLECTION OF MY OWN FECULENT INNER FILTH TO TALK TO YOU, OR EVEN JUST LOOK AT YOU ONE TIME, THEY’D ONLY SEE IT AS ANOTHER PERSONAL AFFRONT. LIKE I JUST TOLD THEM "HEY, SHIT ALL OVER YOUR FROND AND SNIFF IT, IT’LL BE AMAZING JUST TRUST ME, ABSOLUTELY ZERO REASON NOT TO."
===
TG: you come up with the most potent mental images man youre the wordmeister of viscerally gross as hell vocab
CG: THANK YOU.
===
CG: AND LIKE… SHIT, I DEFINITELY WOULD’VE FELT THAT WAY BEFORE I GOT TO KNOW YOU! I UNDERSTAND THE INNER MACHINATIONS OF THOSE IMBECILIC NOOKSTAINS BETTER THAN ANYONE EVER COULD, DESPITE MY BEST EFFORTS.
CG: KARKATS UNIVERSALLY DECIDING THAT THEY JUST CANNOT LIKE YOU ON PRINCIPLE IS A CRISIS OF SHIT HAPPENSTANCES. THE HAPPENINGS ARE ALL OUT OF WACK, COSMICALLY.
CG: LIKE EVERY ME WRITHED OUR WAY OUT OF THE BROODING CAVERNS AND THE FIRST CONSTELLATION WE SAW PEELING THROUGH THE EXOSPHERE, TWINKLING IN THE REFLECTION OF OUR HUGE RED GANDERBULBS, WAS A PAIR OF SHADES GETTING COVERED IN GASOLINE, FOLLOWED BY A CONSTELLATION OF A LIT MATCH.
CG: A SIMPLE EQUATION WITH A VERY SIMPLE SOLUTION.
CG: A SYSTEMIC EPIDEMIC, IF YOU’LL PARDON MY BULLSHIT.
===
TG: it is a goddamn catastrophe sweeping the karkat population
TG: presidents on the headlines trying to get karkats everywhere to stop quarantining their asses and have a real heart to heart among themselves about the issue but they keep isolating anyways
CG: I STILL DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL A PRESIDENT IS. YOU’VE FAILED TO DESCRIBE IT AS ANYTHING MORE THAN A POORLY-SELECTED "DUDE CONDESCE" WHO DOES NOTHING PRODUCTIVE AND THEN EITHER DIES OR RUINS EVERYTHING, OR SOME CHAOTIC COMBINATION OF THE TWO.
TG: well that is exactly what it is but wait good point
===
TG: tragedy strikes as the karkat population reveals it doesnt generally know what a president even is so it means jack shit to them that this dude is trying to get their attention
TG: and mr president he is getting voted the fuck out of office over this blunder just an embarrassing display
TG: the public trust has plummeted off the fucking chart and cratered the damn ground like a meteor
TG: or he could be the tenth to die in office yknow there was a pretty big stretch of no in-office deaths til 2009 so maybe some catchup would be good for everyone
CG: ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU WANT TO MAKE ANOTHER PRESIDENT, AND THEN KILL HIM?
TG: not me personally i just wanna be there and see it also is that dream bubble fucking huge or what
TG: must be the size of
===
TG: jupiter
===
TG: look all im saying is the end of the world coincided pretty notably with a dry spell in the presidential kill:death ratio
TG: i was tragically too busy not dying to see obama die live on television when an errant meteor hit the white house that was my one chance
CG: PFFFT.
TG: i want to keep a comically aloof finger on the pulse of the shit but i do not want to be among the shit
TG: but anyways guess its my turn on the pedestal
CG: BE MY FUCKING GUEST.
===
TG: yknow uh im not gonna lie if present me went back to me age thirteen sippin my dubious aj in my pre-apocalyptic layer of hell that was texas and told me
TG: hey that gray text dude is probably gonna be your best friend if you give him a shot yall could be sweet bros in real life itll be awesome
TG: i mean disregarding the fact i already doomed that guy because i dont remember that happening to me
TG: id probably be casting some wicked aspersions on that shit
===
TG: our whole friendship feels like a plot twist to my damn life story
CG: I HEAR YOU.
TG: its like our narratives bumped into each other hard on the street and decided yknow what yeah this pavement is pretty cosy lets talk about your dad
TG: but
===
TG: dont get your think pans too wrapped up in that different timeline stuff
CG: IT’S THINK PAN. SINGULAR. NOBODY HAS MORE THAN ONE THINK PAN, EVER. IT IS A SINGULAR ORGAN. IF YOU WOULD LET ME READ A TROLL BIOLOGY BOOK TO YOU ONE TIME WE’D STOP BUMPING INTO THIS ISSUE.
TG: gotcha and no
CG: OBVIOUSLY.
TG: but anyways dude look
===
TG: i am literally a time dude and i can tell you right now with all the sage wisdome of my knightitudes
TG: not a good way of looking at it
TG: ive met daves that didnt like you either it doesnt affect jack or shit because those daves arent me
TG: like they are in a way but
TG: me and all those other guys spent the whole game honing down these doomed timelines to a fine point and that point has obviously involved a whole lot of hanging out with you
CG: …
===
TG: so
TG: maybe they just missed the point while you and me were on the breaking edge of that shit
TG: we got to the bottom line of it so it doesnt matter yknow
CG: HUH.
===
TG: and i mean plus
===
TG: ive seen a handful of alternate daves and karkats who get along uh great apparently so
TG: yknow
===
CG: WHAT?
TG: you know what i fucking mean im not saying it
CG: ROLLING YOUR SHOULDERS AND SAYING "yknow" GENERALLY DOESN’T CONVEY FUCKING ANYTHING MEANINGFUL IN A CONVERSATION, DAVE.
CG: I’M NOT A PSYCHIC. YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO TELL ME WHAT YOU MEAN. IN CANDID DETAIL.
TG: its besides the point anyways
===
TG: the point is its you right here that matters overall and you right here is chilling with me so thats gotta mean at least one or two things
CG: OKAY, OKAY, YEAH… I GET WHAT YOU’RE SAYING. I REALLY DIDN’T THINK ABOUT IT LIKE THAT.
CG: YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND BY NOW HOW IT’D BE REALLY FUCKING DIFFICULT FOR ME TO WRAP MY THINK PAN AROUND THE CONCEPT OF ME BEING THE RIGHT VERSION OF ANYTHING.
CG: BUT I FEEL LIKE THE AMOUNT OF TIME WE'VE SPENT TOGETHER CUMULATIVELY IN THIS TIMELINE MAKES UP FOR THE AMOUNT OF DAVES AND KARKATS WHO NEVER SPENT ANY AT ALL, BY AT LEAST TENFOLD.
===
TG: heh yeah
HAHAH.
===
CG: GOD. WHO WOULD’VE GUESSED THAT KARKAT VANTAS WOULD GET TOO FAR INTO HIS OWN THINK PAN ABOUT THIS BULLSHIT, RIGHT?
TG: stop repeating the words think and pan i get it already
CG: ARE YOU SURE? TOTALLY SURE? ABSOLUTELY ASSFUCK CERTAIN OF YOURSELF?
TG: yes dude
CG: ALRIGHT. KEEP IN MIND THIS WILL BE ON THE TEST LATER.
TG: im acing that shit i swear to god youre gonna eat your damn foot
CG: STRUT POD
TG: when i pass that shit to oblivion
TG: youre gonna regret doubting me
CG: OKAY, DAVE. THEN EXPLAIN TO ME WITH ALL YOUR SAGE WISDOME: WHAT IS A "LUMPSQUIRT"? AND REALLY, TAKE YOUR TIME THINKING ABOUT THIS. GOD KNOWS WE'VE GOT MOMENTS A-FUCKING-PLENTY TO SPARE.
TG: as the literal god of time in your local area i sure as hell do
CG: GO ON THEN.
===
TG: …
TG: pass
CG: EXACTLY.
CG: ANYWAYS, I’M STILL GOING TO GO AROUND FEELING ANOTHER LAYER OF PITY FOR THOSE GRAY BULGEMUNCHERS THAT DON’T GET TO BE FRIENDS WITH YOU. NOT THAT ANYTHING ANY KARKAT COULD FUCKING DO WOULD EVER MAKE THEM DESERVING OF IT, BUT THAT’S ANOTHER CAN OF DIRT NOODLES ENTIRELY.
TG: yeah i feel bad for anyone who isnt buddy-buddy with the david stri too
CG: OF COURSE YOU DO. I’M GLAD WE’RE ON THE SAME PAGE HERE.
===
TG: but also
TG: any dave who missed out on a slice of the realest homes in paradox space is a tragedy in my eyes
CG: Y--
TG: let me finish
TG: i just dont let it get to me so much cus… first of all ive been having to not let time shit get to me this whole damn game but also
TG: i know i have you here and thats whats important
TG: ok not "have" just
TG: how the fuck do i phrase that
TG: i know whatever is happening with other "us"es whatever shits goin down
TG: i can wake up and watch movies with you or hell i can even hang with you in there if i bump into you and thats what matters to me in this bro-dom thats what i wanna do
TG: and thats some real shit i just said feel free to co-sign it
CG: …
===
TG: karkat i meant it
CG: … THANKS.
TG: no problem
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planetsano · 4 months
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fem reader. both reader and yuji get zero bitches. waxing.
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I was having thoughts about Yuji getting his first wax at this really cute spa— its the new year so he’s really trying to make the effort of taking this whole “self care” thing he’s been seeing on TikTok seriously. He seems like the type to be pretty hairy down south anyway and in turn he trims it here and there but he never really upkeeps the maintenance. He wants to see what this waxing thing is all about.
So, he books the appointment and he gets you as his esthetician. He’s nervous! But also very excited! He booked a facial as well as the wax so you of course take very good care of him. The conversation is flowing beautifully and there’s a bit of chemistry there. He also thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous and when he walked into the studio, he tripped over his shoelace but that’s neither here or there.
When it’s finally time for the wax? You’re prepping everything all nice and instruct him to take off his pants and boxers— and Yuji immediately freezes. He’s all like “What do you mean?” so you look at him from over your shoulder because you think he’s being silly but the look of genuine confusion on his face lets you know he’s being deadass serious. You tell him, “Well, I can’t wax you with your pants on now can I, cutie?” as sweet as can be, its almost a little maternal too the way you say it.
Poor Yuji. He didn’t really think about any of this fully through. He mentally punches himself in the face because of course he would have to expose himself to the esthetician, that’s just how a Brazilian wax works! Yuji doesn’t want to make it awkward so he complies and takes off his pants and underwear before he lays back onto the table. God, he’s never felt so embarrassed in his life! Is the lamp really necessary..? The warmth of it did feel pretty nice. That’s beside the point anyway.
As he’s laying there while you dilly about with your back turned to him, his mind starts to wander. When was the last time he’s had a woman’s touch? It feels like ages because it kind of has. A year? Almost close to a year. He can’t really remember. Yuji thinks you’re pretty and a good time— you’re easy to talk to and if he didn’t know any better, he thinks he might have a tiny, little crush on you. He’s already been thinking about booking another service just so he can see you.
The thought is super cute, but what isn’t cute is Yuji fighting every single demon, every single thought— nearly trying to astral project so he won’t get hard. You didn’t give him a warning before wrapping your gloved hand around his shaft and he jumped, which did get a giggle and a little “Feeling jumpy today, are we?” out of you. He played it off with a bashful little “Sorry.” before relaxing again. You’re not really doing much but your job and that’s why he feels like such a pervert when all the blood from his skull has rushed to his cock.
For him, it’s like this huge elephant in the room but for you? You don’t mind, there’s always a possibility which is why you don’t take male clients but Yuji is the only exception because he’s cute and seems like a good boy. He probably thinks that he has a poker face but there’s a reason why you keep cooing at him because he’s definitely the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. It’s so desperately obvious that he’s trying to think about the most unpleasant and uncomfortable things but it’s not working.
As the service continues, Yuji is not longer trying to keep from stay hard but he’s now rather trying not to cum all over your hands and his chest. But it’s becoming increasingly difficult to do so. He peeks down every now and again to see the progress, he keeps telling himself “She’s almost done, she’s almost done.” that he needs to hold out for just a few minutes more then he can put his pants back on. But, unfortunately it doesn’t seem to work out like he would have hoped to plan.
Your hand slid up his cock with just enough pressure and friction to make him blow his, really fat load actually. He desperately tried to grab your wrist before it happened but it was already too late, the broken protest turned into a pitiful moan halfway, the panicked jerk of his body.. truth be told you thought it was sweet. You’ve also been going through a dry spell yourself. Your last ex made you want to do some healing but with that came with stepping out of the dating pool and no casual sex.
You, yourself felt like a bit of a pervert standing here with a man putty in your fingertips. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry” was all that left his lips as you cleaned him with with a Kleenex but all you could say in return was:
“Can I..? Have your number?”
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bomberqueen17 · 1 year
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tone indicators
I reblogged this post without adding any commentary bc queue and not a lot of computer time lately but like okay here's the thing about tone indicators:
they're yet another in-group set of coded speech. like an inside joke, or a meme, or a conlang. if you are in a group that uses them, they're great and perfectly comprehensible.
but if you don't happen to have come from inside a group that uses them, they are exactly as exclusionary as any other heavy jargon or inside joke or acronym. I mean have you ever listened to soldiers talk? The US Army communicates in heavily jargon-ified speech, liberally laden with acronyms, so much so that it's a self-referential joke to make up obscene or deliberately-obfuscated ones to slip into official reports since the sorts of people who'd kick up a fuss about obscene language won't understand them.
It is exactly the same thing. Except that's exclusionary on purpose, and tone indicators are exclusionary in effect but tout themselves as inclusionary.
So if I, an outsider to this, am reading along, and after a sentence, there's a / and then between one and three letters, that is not enough information for me to use to look it up.
This is absolutely inaccessible if you are not alreadhy in the group that uses it.
I wouldn't mind if the people who used them were just like 'oh ha sorry jargon, i'll try to explain if it's not clear, sorry i forget you guys don't know them' just like any other inside joke or meme or whatever.
But I was in a discussion with someone on a Discord and when I was puzzled about them including these weird slash-acronyms after their statements they were like oh how nice for you that you're not neurodivergent and don't need to use these.
Uh no. The opposite actually. I'm the kind of neurodivergent that needs context. I handle being excluded from conversations very poorly. And that's where I get pissed off, that people seem to be holding these up as the new be-all end-all of Finally Solving The Problem Of Ambiguous Tones In Social Interaction. The hell you are, kids. They're just another layer, and I'd say the worst one yet, out of many many many attempts to solve this exact problem. They are fundamentally inaccessible. Don't mistake the fact that you learned them (somewhere, in some context inaccessible to me) for them actually being universal.
Considered against the many different solutions that have been offered since text-only speech was invented, tone indicators stack up as among the very least-accessible of the lot, since they contain so little context in and of themselves-- if a key is not provided then they're totally inaccessible, and are exceptionally difficult for non-native English speakers, and in general require so much memorization or cross-referencing as to be prohibitively hostile to outsiders.
And that's fine, if what your'e doing is just meant for talking to your friends. But don't come into my conversations and berate me for not having memorized whatever incomprehensible set of acronyms you've newly-decided are the new universal truth. And what drives me the most insane is how many of these acronyms someone has now decided to assign a whole new meaning to are acronyms that are well-known and already existed and are in heavy use. So if you try to look them up guess what you get! is it gonna be the newly-created version or the one that's been in use for fifty to seventy-five years??
For one, P.O.S. has had a specific meaning in written and spoken English for a really damn long time and if you call me a piece of shit in the actual language I speak I am absolutely not going to interpret your conlang as having intended something nice. (YES REALLY THEY'RE USING THAT ONE TRY TO GUESS WHAT IT MEANS. NO. NO! I know. Fuck! That's wild. Absolutely the fuck not.)
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o4i0n · 5 months
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do u guys think miguel gets hard if ur nice to him ., miguel nation what do we think 
reblogs, comments & likes r highly appreciated !
it’s not like you being nice is anything out of the ordinary—if anything, it’s one of the things that comes the most naturally to you and what others notice whenever they catch you around. your care comes in the form of small, gentle reminders, shared smiles when your eyes meet another’s, or asking how things are when you pass by someone else to make simple conversation. nothing special, really, but it’s sweet. 
miguel o’hara thinks that it’s too sweet, but it’s more of a ‘him’ problem, if anything. he’s not even supposed to be this worked up over something as careless as your hand brushing against his shoulder to let him know that you’re there for him that’s coupled with a chipper ‘bye!’ thrown his way before you turn around and leave, but he is. every time you leave him be, the throbbing ache that settles between his legs grows a lot heavier, and he knows that if he deals with it, it would just make things worse. 
it’s not like he has any plans to stop, though. he may be growing tired of the countless times he’s caught himself thinking about you, the image of your pretty self occupying his mind so much that he swears he sees you even when he closes his eyes, but the scenarios that he’s so keen on turning into a reality make the job a whole lot easier. there may be a twinge of guilt that crosses his mind after he spills into his hand once he’s done fucking himself raw into his fist, but he tries not to thinking about it too much. even when you’re not there, you’re still assisting him in some way. 
which is why he thinks that the universe is playing one massive, fucked-up prank on him when you chose the worst time to drop by his office—that dark, secluded area away from everyone else that he considers an office, anyway—and get greeted with the sight of him biting down on his fist while he furiously ruts into his hand in an attempt to get off. the need that emanates off his body is palpable; no matter how fast he’s stroking himself or how desperately he’s letting his fingers swipe over his leaking tip as pre-come trickles down the remainder of his length, he still can’t come. right now, the sounds that he’s making have more emotion than in any of the words he’s spoken to you, or to anyone, for that matter. it doesn’t make it easier that he’s suddenly terrified of how you’d treat him after seeing that spectacle of pure desperation on his part once he notices you’re there. 
but you, being you, are nothing short of understanding. when miguel asks you to leave (well, he kind of shouts at you because you were never supposed to see anything like that), you’re so caught up by what you saw that you stupidly offer to help him out, your voice and demeanor taking on your trademark shyness. 
miguel is many things, and you know him to be an incredibly efficient man. everything that follows is a blur, and you end up sprawled out on his desk, your clothes haphazardly tugged out of the way so that he could take up up on your offer. 
“you’re too fuckin’ nice,” he whines, wasting no time to peel away your panties and drag his fingers over your entrance. it almost sounds like he’s complaining at the fact that you are the way you are, but he doesn’t say anything. as his fingers curiously prod at your pussy to spread you nicely for him, his free hand is wrapped around his cock, dripping with his own arousal as it lays heavy in his fingers. 
a soft whimper slips out of your lips as he toys with your body, and it’s only sinking in now that you’re not sure if you can take all of him. but he needs help, right? he needs to feel better, so you keep your legs apart for him while he rubs the head of his cock on your sensitive clit. 
when he hears that, it takes all of his self-control to not sink his cock deep into your sweet little cunt right then and there. “i just—s’too much for a guy to take,” he mumbles, trying to push his tip past your soaked folds, because he’s so nice to let you off easy for now since he knows he’s big. “i never know if you’re teasing or not.” and it’s true; the way you tread so carefully and so gently with everyone, especially with him, makes him wonder whether or not this is your way of being coy. “it’s like you’re begging me to fuck you.” 
miguel doesn’t know where all these words are coming from because he knows for a fact that he’s not all that open with anything, much less with things this personal. however, there’s something about the way you’re looking up at him with doe eyes and being completely exposed in a way he’s fantasized about for so long that it sends him reeling. 
you’ve been so nice for him, going above and beyond for something you don’t even need to do; of course he needs to return the favor by making you feel good too! it’s only fair, after all, that he shows his very specific way of thanking you. 
the moment you give him the go, he slides right into you, your wetness and his pre-come making it easier for him to finally feel what it is he’s been dreaming about for so long. he can’t stop the low moan that escapes him when he feels your warm walls enveloping his cock, your pussy so accommodating and welcoming, just like you. he’s so relieved that it’s not his hand that’s making him feel this way anymore; immediately, he wants to bottom out, to bury himself so deep inside you that he’s positive his tip nudges against your cervix. he never thought that you’d be so kind as to let him fuck you, and he’s so eager to draw out all those sounds and reactions when you let him take you. 
he pushes in deeper, his thumb rubbing small circles on your clit because he knows it’ll make you whine. “don’t think i can control myself, pretty girl,” he groans out, all the sensations hitting him like a ton of bricks, and he’s resisting the urge to move right after as you’re adjusting to him. you’re equally as fucked out as miguel and he’s not even all the way in yet. “i won’t stop until you’re crying for me, okay?” 
first time dabbling into smut writing so please be kind nyahaha also if there r grammatical errors no there aren't haha wdym
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tumbleweed-run · 7 months
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It's been brought to my attention that certified oral king, Gale Dekarios hasn't received in forever. And you know what, you're so right. There's exactly a zero percent chance that Mystra got on her knees, celestial or otherwise, for this man. Honestly I imagine there's a whole lot that she would do and yet demanded a whole lot of.
( shout out to @daiya-owoda )
(nsfw below)(holy cannoli this got long... apparently I just really want to do this)
Gale would be hesitant when you brought it up. This would definitely be a "conversation first" act, because any time you'd try to reciprocate he'd gently redirect you.
Not for lack of wanting (gods does he want) the idea of your lips wrapped around his cock genuinely breaks him for a few moments. But he's determined to make you feel good, maybe he's still trying to prove he's worth it for you to stick around - no matter how often you assure him that he's everything you want.
The first time he agrees, won over by your pleading to just let you focus on him, it's done in a very uneventful space. The tent late at night when your companions are either asleep or know enough to fake it.
He's anxious enough that you check in once, twice, three times to make sure he really does want this.
He nods, swallowing heavily, eyeing you knelt between his bare spread legs. "Yes, I just don't wish to make you feel as though you have to. I don't expect everything I do to be returned, in fact if you-"
You cut him off with a kiss, leaning back up over him. As much as you love his babbling if he keeps going right now you know you'll find yourself angrier at a goddess than you should while your partner is half naked in front of you.
Half because while you coaxed off his pants and shoes you realized he might feel more comfortable in this moment if the soft velvet tunic was left on.
Your kiss seems to relax him, or distract him. He relaxes back onto his elbows.
You let your kisses trail off down his beard and then tracing the lines of his tattoo until it disappears beneath the embroidered collar. The velvet still smells of old books and sea breezes. You've seen him wash this many times but the scent remains. Probably magic meant to soothe his homesickness.
His hands flutter as you lower yourself between his legs. But whatever nervousness the rest of his body is demonstrating his cock doesn't seem to have gotten the message. He's hard already swollen pink head crowned with a tiny bead.
You brace your hands on his inner thighs, a warning. Before you dart your tongue out to lap at the bead of moisture. It's not really a lap, really you've just pressed your tongue into the slit.
A taste.
Gale hisses hips bucking his cock up against your tongue. As much as you'd love you let him fuck your throat, badly enough that you freeze, eyes glossy as you bring that image to the front of your mind, you know he's not ready for that. He'd feel terrible afterwards if you even managed to convince him you wanted it.
Not yet.
So instead, you pin his hips to the ground using your forearms. And you set to work.
You kiss first. The tip and then down along the shaft, pressing as much of your lips and nose against him as you comfortably can.
He's relatively quiet above you, still propped up on his elbows to watch. You don't watch him though, focused on your self appointed task.
You contemplate his balls when you reach the base. The softest kiss to the skin and his thighs flex around you. A tempting exploration, but again one for another day.
You make your way back up to the tip of his cock.
Now you look up at him as you hover just over.
Gale opens his mouth, probably to reassure you that this isn't expected. But you ignore him and finally take him into your mouth. Not far, not even halfway in.
But it's enough for Gale, who's open lips let out a sound, not quiet a moan... more guttural and deep. He can't hold your gaze and lets his head fall back.
You set to work, gently sucking... taking him further into your mouth each time. By the time your nose is buried in the thick batch of hair at his base Gale is openly moaning. His fingers grasping and releasing the furs of his bedroll beneath you.
Your focus becomes discovering what draws the sounds from him. Your tongue pressed into the slit of his cock is what finally breaks his ability to stay proper up. When you take as much into your mouth as you can, swallowing to keep yourself breathing, he finally (finally) rests a hand on your head. Not in you hair, not pushing, just resting there - grounding himself in you.
"I... you must..." Gale gasps out after a few more minutes. He never makes a full sentence but you know what he's telling you. You could tell he was close just from how hard he'd gotten, how your jaw ached.
"Please" you half whisper pulling off him.
Whatever Gale sees when he lifts his head to regard your request leaves him speechless. He nods instead.
You nearly choke yourself in an effort to swallow him down once more. Hand at his base almost kneading as you suck.
His hand in your hair tightens and a choked moan is all the warning you get before his spilling down your throat. You swallow greedily, eyes squeezed shut, forearms still pinning his hips to the ground.
The hand in your hair tugs, finally pulling you off him. He's breathing heavily, eyes staring at the roof but clearly not seeing.
You sit quietly between his legs, catching a glimpse of yourself in a small mirror he has to one side. Lips puffy and red, corners of your eyes wet from tears, and your hair blessedly mussed from his hands.
"You are the most singularly gorgeous creature," Gale says in reverent awe as he finds you looking at yourself.
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