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sharkface-daydreams · 11 days

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No, but, OK- Chilchuck and Church would literally be that joke of not liking each other until the moment they both tell everybody else to shut up at the same time and they share a moment- "We are the same... finally, somebody who GETS me". Tex is legit impressed with the union work Chilchuck has set up, she wants to get in on this, does he need a bodyguard?

Laios and Caboose are vibing. Laios also thinks Locus is So Cool, and they're both socially inept in opposite ways, but in the sense that it kinda fits together.

Tucker is over there trying to hit on Marcille and Falin, no need to be jealous ladies, plenty of him to go around, and he'd never want to ruin such a great friendship, just gals being pals. Kai is also flirting by she Knows.

Grif wants Senshi to adopt him (and Senshi is 100% cool with that, this poor boy is so hungry), and he has to ask Simmons- "Dude, is this how you feel about Sarge? Like, all the time?". Simmons is trying to math-hack all the fantasy rules.

Carolina just killed a dragon (what, like it's hard?). Wash is like- "Well, at least nothing is gonna run over me here in wacky magic land", and then the first car in this world ever hits him. Doc is having a FUN time learning about all the weird flora and fauna here, O'Malley is already trying to become some combination of dark wizard/necromancer (but he's not good at it).

Donut meets Evil Aslan, and is just- "OK, I'm just gonna skip ahead and kill you right now. I've been through this song and dance with demon-gods, I know how it goes".

Lopez can eat living armor. like, just "raw" or whatever.

There. RVB-Dungeon Meshi crossover. I got that out of my system

ok it's still airing so my watch buddy won't watch with me yet and i have yet to sit and read the manga so im taking notes

chilchuck is a chad, got it.

caboose immediately gets a new friend, that tracks XD <3 love that for him

simmons is me in an isekai, i hate this, thank you <3

of COURSE carolina kills a dragon. of course <3 i love that for her ('what like it's hard?' elle woods has done so much for this world thank u goddess 🙏) but wash omg 😭⚰ it would happen to him. someone invents THEE first like motorized soap box derby car and itjust fuckin. smashes his kneecaps and keeps going RIP king 🙏

i love. i love all of this. question for you though. i love the implications of Lopez eating living armor raw which i know nothing about. does this count as cannibalism do you think? or do you think lopez sees himself as the ghost within the shell, separate from his armor? (or do you hc there's an android in the armor? :o i do when it's convenient for fic alsdkjflkfd)

also. this makes me think of something i want to share finally. (ill put under a cut bc adding 13 pics is a lot)

a long time ago when this picrew was first available (it's only patreon now i think? ppl kept stealing the assets💢 and such so the artist got understandably mad and took it off picrew site :( i made... RVB RPG PORTRAITS!!!! (they still have an rpg maker one but its very different)

also dont kill me but its taken me 3 years to realise i didn't make tex 😭

Red Team:

Blue Team: (had to put Church between them or they'd fight ☺)

And the mercs <3

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tomboyyyaoi · 1 year

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throws u this WIP coz i feel bad abt starting an art blog while i have art block

#i saw the original and i thought i am going to vash this idiot so hard #i started on this like last month n forgot abt it til now #aaaaaaaaaaanyway #vash the stampede #trigun #my silly art #wip

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talonpaw · 9 months

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gosh i’ve missed my friends so much 🥹🥹 i get to reunite with several of them this week and idk if i can be Normal about it.

lately i’ve been experiencing a renewed sense of appreciation for the people in my life. i used to think that i hated people and that one day i’d revel in being able to spend my days alone. now that i’m away from the miserable environment of my childhood i’m starting to realize that the fundie community i grew up in was an outlier, i love people deeply.

the horses were RIGHT. friendship IS magic

#i still have like… two close friends from back then #probably just the one (hi ali lol)#but like. sometimes i wonder about my shitty friends from back then #because we really were pitted against each other #desperate to survive in a hostile environment #i wonder if we met today if we’d be good friends. i think we might #without all of that baggage. y’know?#aaaaaaaaaaanyways

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desitenya · 2 years

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aha um idk how to fully articulate this but there is definitely a right and wrong way to depict the fucked up way he treats his brother 👁👁

#anyways.#aaaaaaaaaaanyways.#im by no means a kuusuke apologist but god DAMN #butchering his character #goose honks

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oimatchstickman · 2 years

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“how are you not burnt out on marvel? urgh”

listen my dudes it’s the long form and interconnected story telling and attachment to characters and getting to see those characters a lot over several years for me and that’s also why i spend a decent chunk of change on doctor who audio dramas if i love a character or characters i’m in it for the long haul lol

#aaaaaaaaaaanyways huzzah for thursdays being my day off because 3pm thursday tickets for thor have been acquired 🥳#also planning on seeing lightyear later this week but holding off to see which showing is gonna be the most empty lol

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djokeery · 6 months

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working on the next little update of my steve fic and i kind of want to cry :D

#strikethroughs are my Thing okay #they serve a purpose with my steve thoughts #bUT GOD WHO IS LETTING ME THINK THESE THINGS #WHY CAN’T I EVER JUST HAVE A NORMAL HEADCANON ABOUT HIM #steve i love you i’m so sorry i’m always being mean to you but if no one else will take your trauma seriously i will #and that’s exactly what this fic is #(lol)#aaaaaaaaaaanyway!#going to sleep now #just wanted to share this somewhere #goodnight

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labwebs · 6 months

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🕸i think a lot about how everyone's very lucky that the symbiote didn't find tasm peter in between tasm2 and nwh

#aaaaaaaaaaanyways i spent too much time looking at hotels to get more writing done tonight SORRY #hopefully i'll get some done tomorrow after work :D #night all sleep tight and drink water #ooc

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aur0raaura · 1 year

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Happy Birthday PLA, now let me see Ingo attack and dethrone pokegod!!!!

HI yes I drew this in like two days so im sorry it's not exactly polished hsadlkfjhsdf

This began as my idea of wanting to see a scenario where Ingo recovers his memories and throws hands at Arceus so he can have a way back- (probably as a test from Arceus himself to see if he's truly ready to go back) used this quick doodle as an idea on how I wanted to draw the boi's restored coat- (mind you this is something i did in June of last year WHEEZE)

aaaaaaaaaaanyways! hope you guys enjoy this! I'm gonna try and relax now-

#submas #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon #aura's art #please join me in my “Ingo faces pokegod and gets what he wants” haha ;)#this was honestly an any% speedrun of making art for today lmao

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shirogane-oushirou · 3 months

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AAAAAAAAAAA RO!!! BESTIE!!!! YOUR TAGS ARE DESTROYING ME RN /POS

I just had to send you an ask in response because oouughghghhhh... my feels... 🥺💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

I actually never realized how much I look like Java until I put our faces next to each other on that moodboard!!! The resemblance between us is so uncanny - but maybe that's why they've been giving me such good gender vibes lately ☺️ Amber resembles me quite a bit as well according to another friend, which is awesome to hear as an aspiring non-human shapeshifting critter!! Seriously, I'm so thrilled that you guys see it, too!! My gender euphoria levels shot THROUGH THE ROOF when you told me that...!!!

YOUR COMPLIMENTS ON MY PHOTO TOO... *SNIFF*... 😭🫂💖 I really love how my glasses look on me!! Last time I went to the optometrist, I tried to pick frames that I felt suited me, and that happened to take me into the men's section!! My mom was a bit confused by it, but those frames spoke to me right away 🥰 I didn't care that they were supposed to be frames for prescription sunglasses!! Besides, my lenses tint in the sunlight anyway so 😎✨️✨️✨️

I saw the tags you left on my art comm too, and I SO AGREE WITH YOU. I TOTALLY GET IT. I have a ton of Rockstar gifs and screenshots saved to a folder, and I adore the shit outta them all, but... ever since I discovered my guy's gender identity, if he doesn't have scruffy facial hair or a fuzzy chest patch, or those soft, hairy limbs... or his precious top surgery scars that he's so proud of?? He feels kinda like a different Cookie to me LOL

Basically, if he ain't hairy, transmasc or genderfluid, then he ain't my husband 😌💖✨️✨️ I think my version of him really suits the voice he has in C.R.K too!! A rough, rugged old man with passion and energy to spare, but who's finally starting to settle down a bit, too... he's not quitting the rock scene, not by a long shot - but he is a bit more inclined to blow things off and disappear if Java needs him (or if he misses them enough ☺️💖). He's an absolute menace in such a playful way, and I'm so attached to him, honestly... my handsome rock beauty 🥰💖💖💖💖

AAAAAAAAAAANYWAYS. This has been my involuntary Rockstar Supremacy ted talk!! Thank you for attending since you had no choice 🤣 /lh

And as always, I appreciate your tags and comments on my stuff!! I get so happy and flappy when I see that you rbed my stuff cuz I get to read all your awesome thoughts, hehe 🤗✨️

♡• @rockstars-babe •♡

NO IT'S SO REAL THO!!!! i pogged when i saw your face next to java's akjsndfkjnsf like?????? oh they're LITERALLY just reffie ok ok ok LMAO. and i can definitely see you in amber too!!!! idk i just feel like your s/is fit you so clearly despite having such drastically different designs, it's Wild!!!

god, i really need to take that approach when i start looking into getting new frames sometime soon ;;; that's such a nice way of thinking about it. like. if you're going to put that much investment into something you're expecting to wear for a number of years straight, may as well get some that are cool as shit KJNDFKJN and have the most comfortable vibes, gender be damned.

it's so odd, bc i've mostly known rockstar through you, and 90% of the time it's been CRK rockstar... but as soon as you really 'discovered' him, it's like a switch flipped ksjndf. it just fits him so well!! and i'd especially trust that view from someone who knows as much about him as you clearly do, from all of your talk about the new game >:)

and the voice thing!!!!! that's so odd too!!!!! when i was doing that "give me a series and i'll find an f/o" ask game, i listened to a couple of his voice lines for curiosity's sake. and his voice was like... it felt like it could grow on me, but his visual image and his voice were just a little... out of sync? if that makes sense? they weren't quite lining up w each other. but as SOON as you posed the topless comm of him i was like :0 OH. THIS IS WHO THAT VOICE BELONGS TO. JKNASFKJN.

i love reading your gushes about him; you have SUCH passion for him and for everyone who makes up your cookie family with and around him. 😭 it's why i like to really consider what i say in the tags; i want to match that energy! and it's why i look forward to when YOU rb stuff!!! you put just as much passion into appreciating everyone else's ships!! you just have so much passion in general and it's something i admire about you 🥺🥺🥺

(though i would 100% be behind if you decided to not pressure yourself so much KJNSDKFJN ;; you're dealing with so much outside of selfshipping, and you should feel able to come on here and Just Chill without feeling like you have to put 200% effort into replies and tags ;w; )

#sorry if this is ramble-y i am very eepy and out of it KJSNDFKJN.#fr tho i've read this ask a number of times now and i get so happy seeing you express your love for your f/os. all of 'em.#you've put so much of yourself into your s/is and your f/os and the worlds they all inhabit; it's comforting to see how much love #you put in and how that mirrors all of that love back towards yourself! that's that Good Shit!!! 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻#idk ilu (/pl) and appreciate you so much and love seeing you around as you show your love for your beloveds!!!! 💕😊#how many times can i say love in one tag KJANSD ;;;#📌 [ my posts. ]#[ asks. ]#[ oomfies ; reffie. ]

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f4y3w00d5 · 5 months

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Aaaaaaaaaaanyways, ive decided Faye got drugged by some random spirit with pink bananas today so uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... You get the lovedrunk faye again

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startersword · 1 year

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WHAT THE SCALLOP WHY DID IT PASTE THE QUESTION TWICE......................................AAAAAAAAAAANYWAY

#Wanwan #NO MATTER.LOOK AT MY POLL BOY. PATOOEY

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valorums · 4 months

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@forcenexus sent … ✨✨✨ INHALES. BECAUSE YOU ARE SO FRICKIN TALENTED AND THOUGHT OF THINGS I NEVER DREAMED OF FOR ANI. THE FACT WE ARE YOUR SIMPS. YOUR WRITING PUSHES ME TO WANT TO BE BETTER. TO THINK OF MORE AUS AND OTHER THINGS TO ADD TO THEM. BECAUSE ANAKIN AND SHI'AL ARE END GAME. DO I NEED TO GO ON?!

╰► SOURCE: send ✨ if you like my writing and feel free to tell me why !!

YOU HEAR THAT, DASH?

⠀⠀ SHI’AL AND ANAKIN ARE ENDGAME HERE 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

aaaaaaaaaaanyways BESTIE THIS JUST MADE MY DAY ILYSM 😭 THANK YOU

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ I’ve said it a kajillion times already tonight but I absolutely ADORE you and your writing and all your muses! it’s so wonderful getting to see you grow as a writer and to learn things from you too, because roleplay in the most basic way is about learning from each other through collaboration. anyways you’re the best and ily <33333

#⠇ ooc ⠇ ━━━ dave filoni stole my last braincell.#⠇ askbox replies ⠇ ━━━ all i ask of you #forcenexus

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angelkittycore · 8 months

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"you're not actually gabriel you're this other angel because you act nothing like him" ....aaaaaaaaaaanyway i love being gabriel 🥺 and that community can't take that away from me.

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kinbarikei · 2 years

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GUYS! I AM SHOCKED--

I bought myself an ipad pro a few weeks ago (two, i think?) and i've been working really hard on getting better with colours, with perspectives and just digital illustrations in general since i'm new to it and HAAAAAAAAA. I'm so proud of this one. I used a photography reference for the background (it's an actual picture of tokyo) and changed a few things. I feel like her name would be Layla? I dunno why but it suits her. I'm already finding so many flaws in this illustration BUT i'm trying to remain positive and be like: HEY HEY LOOK I MADE THIS! I'm seeing progress in my art and i'm slowly figuring out my art style (i changed the way i draw noses, hands, etc.) and i'm exploring different techniques to see what suits me.

AAAAAAAAAAAnyway! Hope you guys enjoy it!

#digital art #digital artist #digital illustration #procreate #anime #drawing #original character #ocs #my art #procreate art #badass #tokyo #art #artist support #character design #oc character #original art

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redmoonrises · 2 years

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aaaaaaaaaaanyway i have nothing to do today so if anyone has things they want me to draw i’ll have time! send me things to draw please

o-o

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cqsuanla · 3 years

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fury shakes the rafters

pairing: dark!nat/f!reader

summary:

Aside from the cannibalism, Nat is mostly the same. Still ridiculously strong and stupidly hardheaded. And that face — flinty, cold, mean. Nat’s always been mean.

(inspired by jennifer’s body)

additional notes: mommy kink, dom/sub, bloodplay(?), dacryphilia, uhh pussy spanking, choking, unhealthy relationship, terrible aftercare

title from a song suggested by an anon: nobody by the crane wives

(ao3)

The light in the stairwell flickers, but it doesn’t make a difference, dim and dirty as it is. It buzzes distantly in your ears. You’re too focused on taking the steps two at a time to notice. You hold your groceries to your chest and fish your keys out of your pocket. If you were strong like Nat, you might just have knocked the door clean of its hinges with the force of your body. Instead, it crashes loudly into your wall, and you nearly fall on your face from the momentum.

In a bid to gain purchase on your wall, you sweep your coat rack over, and you stumble over it. The clatter makes you wince — you hope she’s in a good mood. It’s hard for her to process stimuli when she’s weak. You scramble onto your hands and knees, shoving scattered boxes and cans into the grocery bag.

Then, the rhythmic thud-thud of footsteps. You pause, exhaling as your eyes close.

“Drink?” in a monotone.

Yikes. You open your eyes, biting your lip. Steel-toed boots. You’ve told Nat a million times that this is a shoes-off apartment. She never listens, and you never argue more. Nat stays; she’s the only one who’ll stay. You can’t drive her away.

Her right boot rises, scraping against the floor, and you flinch. It just kicks a cereal box away so it can nudge at the shopping bag. The way she says your name, evenly, firmly, has you blinking rapidly, has your hands automatically shooting to the bag, following her prompt. Thank god the bottles are fine. You don’t know what you’d do if they had shattered.

You wiggle a beer out of the pack, and only then do you dare to make eye contact.

“Hi,” you murmur.

She gives you a brief glance, impassive, before snatching the bottle from your hand and returning to her spot on the armchair. “That fucking coat rack.” She flicks the cap off your side table, grungy and scratched up for this very reason. The cap bounces off the wall and disappears under the couch. “Just move it further in. You never listen.”

You did, weeks ago. You don’t say so.

The coat rack came with the place, and it was nice, so you refused to get rid of it. Nat hated it, hated that it was so close to the door in your already bite-sized entryway, but never enough to throw it out herself. But you did move it because her complaints were valid, and you wanted her to like being here with you, living here with you. Anyway, she stopped complaining afterwards. Not that you think she noticed — you supposed it was a minor inconvenience to her, the way a fly was, annoying when it was in your face but non-existent once it stopped bothering you.

Quietly, you move your groceries to the kitchen island, putting everything but your new medical supplies away. There are dirty plates in the sink, which you’ll wash after you make yourself dinner. You wonder what she’s eaten – you’d just bought two new steaks, but Nat likes a bowl of strawberry ice cream now and then.

The TV channel switches in the background. Nat snorts, and you peek around the wall to catch a report on the gruesome series of murders that have been happening lately. People in the neighbourhood hardly went out anymore, too afraid of the dark now. It would scare you too if you weren’t well aware you’d never fall victim. Nat was with you, after all, and you were with her.

You would be with her for as long as she’d let you. So, what if she was the monster in the dark? So what? It was Nat. Your Nat. She came back to you, talked to you, fucked you. It’s not like she was disembowelling you in some grimy alleyway. She kept most of the violence away from you because she cared. Anyway, like everyone else, she had to eat. You couldn’t fault her for that.

You’re pulling the gauze out of its packaging when Nat scoffs loudly at the news. They must’ve insulted her because she clicks the TV shut, practically inhales half her bottle and flings the remote onto the couch.

Then, she sets her sights on you, meek behind the counter, and raises an eyebrow. “Honey, the hall’s a mess. Clean it up.”

You frown. “You’re still hurt.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’ll eat tomorrow, and it’ll be fine.”

You don’t think so. The longer Nat doesn’t eat, the worse it gets. It’s how she’s in this mess in the first place. Nat’s ethereal after a feeding, next to omnipotent. But the guy she picked to eat last week turned out to be some sort of track star because he had booked it at the first sign of trouble, and she’d been forced to retreat when the sirens started blaring. The day after that, she picked a local thug as her next meal, and she’d been caught off guard by the switchblade. So, here she is: slumped on your couch and stitched up sloppily.

Her hair is limp, skin wane and dry, and in a bad enough mood that you can basically feel it every time you’re within a two-meter radius of her.

Her physical weakness emboldens you a little, makes you think you can get away with a bit of stubbornness. You pick up the gauze and tape and round the corner. A car speeds by, high beam making Nat’s eyes glint a deep green in the dark. The green follows you the whole way until she has to crane her head around to watch you slip her tank top off a shoulder.

Those eyes weren’t like that before when you first started dating. You don’t mind the changes, though. Aside from the cannibalism, Nat is mostly the same. Still ridiculously strong and stupidly hardheaded.

“You don’t want to listen?” she asks, almost conversationally.

You know better. You clench and unclench your fist. Shakily, you lift it and tuck a hair behind Nat’s ear, hoping foolishly that it will placate her.

“Baby,” says she, like a gentle mother to a misbehaving child, “you should really listen.”

You trace the bumps of her stitches, staring hard at her shoulder so you won’t have to see that face — flinty, cold, mean. Nat’s always been mean.

“At least answer me.”

“No, Nat,” you mutter, undoing the bandages on her bicep. “I don’t want to listen.”

To her credit, she lets you fix her up. Methodically, silently, you clean her wounds and rewrap them in new bandages. She doesn’t get in the way unless it’s to take a swig of her drink.

When you’re done with her arms and back, you move to her front. She’s got an ugly gash on her calf, bruised midway from where the man had kicked her bleeding leg. You imagine this is causing her the most pain, not just physically. Nat’s not great with sitting still. She’s independent to a fault, enjoying control to the point that it’s probably some sort of diagnosable complex, and this restriction on her mobility has her restless and irritated.

Looking down at her, at the space between her knees, you wonder if she’ll cooperate with you. The last time you tried to clean her leg, she’d torn your duvet in half and has since refused to let you look at it. But Nat tilts her head, coy, and gestures toward the space in front of her with her bottle.

“Scared?” she whispers.

You glance at her face just in time to catch her tongue tracing the jagged end of a canine. Mutely, you shake your head. She smiles wide.

“Liar.”

Of course. You’re always scared of her. For her, too. But you don’t think it matters; it doesn’t change anything. You just want to help her, be good for her. Anyway, she’s trying to get a reaction out of you. You refuse to take the bait, raising your eyebrows and wiggling the bandages in your hand.

“Fine.” With a roll of her eyes, she parts her legs.

As if dealing with a feral animal, you move slowly, cautiously, afraid to make sudden movements lest she starts getting violent. You squat down and reach for the cuff of her sweatpants.

“Ah, ah.” She slides the leg back, staring down her nose at you. You pause. “Kneel, baby.”

Her eyes — did the ring of green get thinner? Your lips part, anticipation beginning to seep into your body, and you comply. Once you’re settled, looking up at her, she makes that same careless gesture with her bottle. A go-ahead.

As you work, she shifts to put her beer on the table and then combs a hand into your hair. You tense, eyeing her nervously, but she only watches you, imperious, intense, and remains silent. Nevertheless, you pick up the pace, tossing the antiseptic aside and winding the gauze around her pale calf.

She’s startlingly warm under your hands. Ever since… whatever happened to her — she wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the details — she’s run hotter than ever. You can’t sleep under a blanket with her anymore unless you’re shirtless; the heat would be unbearable. Not that Nat has any complaints about that.

“All done,” you murmur.

The lack of reaction from Nat gives you the courage to lean forward and press a sweet kiss to the top of her knee. The hand in your hair rewards you with a gentle scratch, and you can’t help melting into a smile. She’s still got that air of arrogance about her when you look up at her, but she’s not glaring. Which is why it comes entirely as a surprise when she clenches a fistful of hair in her hand, yanking your head back, and slaps you clean across the face with her other hand.

You take the full brunt of her palm with a cry, almost toppling over were it not for the grip on your hair. Your cheek burns, and so does your eyes. Mostly from pain, partly from the shock of it, maybe a little from shame when you realize you’re getting wet from the rough treatment.

Nat tuts. “Crying already?”

You imagine you look pretty pathetic on your knees for her, eyes glassy.

“Don’t give me those eyes, baby; you know I can’t help myself.”

“I just wanted to help.”

“I know,” Nat says gently, tipping your head back again so you can see the false sincerity on her face. “You can fix this, you know?”

Your eyebrows furrow, thoughts racing a mile a minute to puzzle out what she means.

“Don’t think so hard. You’ll hurt yourself. I’ll show you how, dumb baby,” she coos as she nudges your chin with the knuckle of her finger, and you can’t help flushing deeply at that. Then, she offers a hand, and you take it, and she tugs you up into a straddle on her lap. “Come here.”

You instinctively wind your arms around her neck, clinging on. Beneath you, she tenses and lets out a low rumbling sound that resonates deep in her chest. You inhale sharply.

Teeth. Sharpened to deadly points. Poised over your neck. Nat’s breath comes short and hot against your skin, and her tongue, when it peeks out, drags wetly across your skin.

This has happened once before; the first night she’d come back changed. Like before, she noses at your flushed skin, teasing you with the possibility of damage, and trails her teeth down to your traps. Back then, she hadn’t bitten you. She won’t now, you think, you hope.

She sighs again, hovering over the meat of your shoulder and prodding her teeth against you. Doesn’t break the skin.

“Don’t make it worse for yourself. Are you scared?”

This time, you nod. Nat’s lips curve into a smile, and her hold on your thighs tighten enough to bruise.

“You should listen, sweetheart,” she says against you. The front of her teeth scrapes over you when she speaks, leaving red marks behind. “I hurt you less when you’re good. Don’t you know?”

“How can you be in the mood?” you wonder, burying your face into the crook of her neck. “You’re half dead.”

“Barely.”

It would take a lot more to kill Nat like this. Anyway, how could you be in the mood when your girlfriend’s cut up like this?

Nat stands abruptly, ignorant to your yelps and complaints, and dumps you back onto the couch in quick succession. Before you can even register what’s happened, she’s yanked your bottoms down to your ankles and has climbed between your legs.

Even after that, you don’t get the chance to speak. She wraps her hand around your throat and pins you to the cushions. You grab onto her wrist.

Her body bears down, and you break into a sweat, in small part due to nerves, some part because she’s shoving her hand up your shirt to grab roughly at your bra, but mostly because she’s near scalding. You’re convinced her blood runs at a constant boil now. You’ve grown to love the heat, though. With her, pleasure comes white-hot, and you’d want it no other way.

“Nat-”

“No,” she growls, and you get an eyeful of her monstrous teeth. She flexes both hands, cutting off your airway and squeezing your breast painfully. You whimper, wound tight as a coil. “Listen to me, baby.”

You look at her through hazy eyes.

“Those eyes again. God, I love you like this.” Foolishly, your heart clenches at those words. She rucks your shirt up and claws her nails down your front. Beads of blood bloom from the thin scratches she leaves behind. “You’re beautiful when I hurt you.”

Her hand nearly crushes your throat closed, but then she releases you, and you suck air in desperately. Your hands, shaken off her arm, reach for the sides of her head. “Nat,” you croak, tasting the salt from your tears on your lips. “Nat.”

She shakes her head, descending on your chest. It hurts – badly. “Be good for mommy.”

“Mommy,” you gasp out, arching into her mouth. She ignores your pert nipples, electing instead to lick and suck at the burn between your breasts. “Please, please.”

“Shut up,” she hisses. Oh, her teeth are still out. “Hands above your head.”

You obey, another sad sound crawling out of your abused throat.

The dark pits of her eyes drink in the sight of you, face crumpled in pain and need. A thumb wipes up the last of your blood, and she delights in smearing it across your cheek.

“Messy baby, clean up after yourself. It’s basic,” she chides, thumb still rubbing at your face as if she were fixing up some runny mascara. “Be good now.”

You don’t dare to speak, just nod and look pleadingly up at her. Your core aches from neglect.

She makes quick work of that, reaching down to feel the slick between your thighs. Humming, she smirks and very deliberately rubs her middle finger over your clit. You jerk up into her, mouth falling open even as you strangle your moan.

“I could do anything to you, and you’d still want me.”

Again, you nod.

“Where did my little liar go?” she baits. You shake your head. “Say ‘thank you, mommy, for letting me breathe.’”

It takes you a moment to gather the brain cells and say: “Thank you, mommy.”

Her smile widens, teeth back to normal. “Again, for the lesson.”

“Thank you, mommy.”

She brings her hand down on your cunt, full strength. You scream, jolting away from her. Well, you would have if she hadn’t pressed you down by the chest, entirely uncaring about the wound she’d left there. Tears leak out the sides of your eyes, trickling into your hairline.

“Thank me for that too,” she demands.

“Thank you,” you cry around a hiccup.

One more spank, and another, and another. Your legs kick uselessly against the cushions, body twisting after every awful smack.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Your hole clenches around nothing, slick leaking onto the couch. Then, two fingers dip into you, and Nat thrusts them up hard and fast. She’d shoved them in on a contraction, and it hurts for a second before she’s curling her fingers into the velvet of your walls.

She makes a pleased sound. “Tight as always. Makes me want to tear you in half, baby.”

You stare up at the ceiling. “Th-” She starts up a fast pace, digging her fingertips into your front wall. “Thank you!”

Her cheek rests on your chest, listening to the thunder of your heart. “We should try that big one.” Impossibly, your heart rate quickens at the thought, and you manage to shake your head. She laughs, the sound sharp and cruel, and music to your ears. “Maybe another time then.”

She sits up then, still working her fingers into your cunt, and moves her other hand to your mons. She pets gently over your labia, a sharp contrast to the vicious pace she’s keeping up. Your head spins.

“My baby,” she breathes, “good enough to fucking eat.”

But she parts your folds to press her fingers into your clit, circling them once, twice, thrice, and you’re so close. So desperately close.

She leans down, near delicate in her movements, and licks into your mouth. You taste copper and beer and the faintest sweetness. Urgently, you try to kiss back.

If she’s mean, she’d pull back and deny you the chance to come with her mouth on yours.

She must think that you’ve suffered enough, though, because she rubs her thumb at your clit and drives her fingers deeper into you, and you push up as far as you can into her body with a scream. You’re swallowed in molten heat, pleasure stripping away at you until you’re just bones on the couch.

When you come to, Nat’s pulling out some bandages for your chest. You’re too tired to do or say anything, forced into silence by her dominance.

She smiles at you, still not kind, but it doesn’t look bestial like before. Maybe just self-satisfied. She strokes your sweaty hair as she fixes you up, shushing you if you moan quietly from aftershocks or pain. You are in a lot of pain, bruised and scratched up as you are.

“Good girl,” she says when she’s done.

Finally, you muster the energy to grab her hand and say, “Thank you.”

She lets you hold on for a few seconds before pulling away. “Sure.”

You wish she’d hold you for a bit, but you don’t vocalize it. She’s been through too much in the last few days; you shouldn’t burden her—

“Don’t be fucking needy,” she says, suddenly and harshly. Your face must have given you away.

“I don’t mean to be,” you mutter, bringing your arm up to cover your eyes. Feeling stupid, feeling mad that you feel stupid, you say: “It would just be nice if you’d stay for a bit.”

A hand grabs your arm, yanking it away from your head, and you’re treated to a view of her scowl. “Where would I go?”

You didn’t mean it that way, but you don’t know how to get out of this hole you’ve dug yourself. “I-I don’t know.”

Out of nowhere, her hand slaps your cunt again, overstimulated, sore, puffy. You groan, curling in on yourself and hugging your knees to your chest.

“Fuck, Nat.”

She takes the opportunity to sit down on the end of the couch, where your legs once were. The TV turns back on, and you hear her take a sip from her can of beer. “Clean up the hall later.”

At least she stayed.

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