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christinabroken · 2 months

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🖤🙃 #tatted #piercings #ghostemaneshirt #purplehair #handtattoo #eyelinertattoo #spiderwebseptum #doublenostrilandseptum #spiderbites #streachedears #alternative #gothgirl #snapchatsawitfirst #blackandgrey

#tatted #pierced #black and grey #alt girl #streched lobes #goth aesthetic

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bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love · 2 years

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I wanna sit on Shigaraki's cock so I can admire the bulge he makes in my stomach because oh my god that's him, that's my love's thick beautiful cock inside me. The longer I'd stare, the wetter I'd get, especially looking at the end of the bulge and knowing that that's where his fat, pink tip is...

XXX SMUT BELLY BULGE SMUT XXX

🥵 mmm. Knowing that it was you that made his pretty cock so hard. You are the one he chose to dick down. His tip pressing against your stomach, pre cum leaking out as you feel him twitch inside you. Hell you can almost see those thick veins that run down his huge cock pulsing.

He's grunting in your ear as his thrusts become faster, he's so close to release. With one more jerk of his hips he spills his milky seed deep inside you. Pumping you full of cum, his cum.

"See what you do to me baby" his deep, raspy voice makes your pussy clench even tighter around his manhood which doesn't go unnoticed. "Hmm does my girl like that, you want more" he purrs against your neck, punctuating the statement with a nip and lick to your ear lobe. His hand rubbing your belly where his cock bulge is.

"You were so good, I still can't believe you took all of me. Every last inch. I'm impressed. Now look at you, so sexy all stuffed with my cock. My cum dripping out of that little pussy thats streched so fucking wide for me. And you, your a withering mess. Don't worry love I'm no where near done" his words end with a guttural growl before he begins absolutely wrecking your insides again. It feels soooo amazing. Your pussy fluttering, body shaking. His name muttered over and over between whimpers of ecstasy

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #tomura shigaraki x reader #stomach bulge

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shadowthief69 · 3 months

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false dawn and folly

Gojo Satoru/Geto Suguru/Reader (Jujutsu Kaisen). Historical AU, Human/fox immortal (inari) romance, mild yandere vibes, no sex (yet [perhaps next time lol])

Might rework this into something worth posting to Ao3 later on. For now, have this.

They say a god lives on the mountain by your village. They say he has hair like snow and eyes like the sky and nine tails, each as unblemished and silvershining as the next. They say he makes no noise when he walks and has a voice that can coax the moon down from the sky.

They say he uses the snow to cut his clothing and the starlight fills his cup. They say he talks with the wolves and dances on the frosted ponds and leaves in winter. They say nobody can ever touch him, that he flickers like an illusion or a candle's flame if you try.

They say some have met him. They say none have ever returned.

They say that there is another god, this one who lives in the shadow of the river that curls through your valley. They say you can find him where moss drips even on the driest summer days, where trees grow thick and twisted, where ruahes cluster and clog and turn the lively river to a stagnant pond.

They say he favors black, not white, and gold, that he wears his hair loose and combs it with the spine of a fish, bone-white against death-black. He rides a dragon and offers pearls to his favored and is sly and cunning and cutting.

They say he plays the biwa and on lobely nights, you can hear the in the echoes from the wolves. They say he favors those with blood to offer—their own or not, he doesn't care. They say he has teeth like daggers and an army of twisted shadows at his command, born from midsummer heat and festering flesh like maggots from rot.

They say a lot of things about the twin gods you are streched between, but you never pay much attention. Your family has more to worry about on nighta when the moon hangs low and fog clouds thickly around your house: the harvest, for one. Each year, the grain comes more sparsely than the last, and each year, you pull your blankets a little tighter, bank the fire a little deeper, and eat a little lighter to hunker down for spring.

Your little siblings have taken to wearing all their clothing to sleep. You make do in you old yukata from what feels like summer ages ago, the tucked shoulders long since let out, and an old kimono your mother can spare. The snow on the ground glitters darkly when you slide the doors shut, like a taunt, like an invitation.

It takes four weeks for the moon to once again hang full and heavy in the sky, four weeks for you to gather the courage to wrap rags around your feet and oil your bow and arrows. Your mother hands the last of the rice to you. Your father gives you his knife.

Your wolves bleed out from the empty space between the trees. Their paws make neither sound nor mark on the snow, their panting releases no breath, but you can see the heavy look in their eyes, the leanness between shaggy fur: they are hungry. You turn to look at your humble home once more, breath crystalline in the aching cold. It is time to hunt.

You have been stalking your prey for months, since the night of muggy summer you were ankle deep in the rice paddies, placing tender shoots and praying they would grow. Your wolves waited for you just out of sight, ringed by dark trees and wilderness. Someone caressed the back of your neck, hardly a breeze, followed by a giggle in the wind.

You, drenched in mud and coated with sweat, skin taut from the sun and throat parched, did not makr any move. The presence in the wind lingered for a moment; your pack tense and ready to dredge themselves into existance at your call.

You turned away and went to wash yourself in the river.

They say the fox-god gives prosperity and riches to anyone who may best him in combat. They say this god is young and playful and still mischevious, willing to humor those he favors.

It is the coldest and darkest part of the night when you stop by the gnarled tree halfway up the mountainside and clap yoir hands together to warm them. Your wolves offer no heat when they gather behind you, doubled over to pant for breath. Still, the wind ripples around then, not cutting through your meager clothing.

You meet the two fox-gods then, sitting in the moonlight with unfilled sake cups, mocking each other over petty quarrels and minor griefs. The forest clears, creating a clearing that was not there, a table set with food frosted over and dressed with lacquerware black as night and red as blood.

You have heard all they have to say about the two who play tug of war over your village—snipping over the rainfall in spring, the heat in summer, the harvest in autumn—and you know that there is no winning any battle against them both.

Their teeth gleam as they introduce themselves and usher you to the untaken seat, stone leaching heat from you. One of them throws his hakama over your shoulders, the other counters with his fur capelet, and both begin piling food onto your plate.

You hold your chopsticks with frozen fingers and try not to fear the eyes staring at you; one the color of heaven and the oher more familiar than your own soul. They bicker as you eat what feels like ice and tastes like embers.

What have you of value other than yourself? What can you bet on but their rivalry? What do you want but prosperity to this isolated valley?

They say there are two gods who share this village, one in winter and one in summer. They say the fox-gods are black as yin and white as yang, cruel one moment and indulgent the next. They say the two can never share, can never agree, can never compromise.

They say the two can talk to wolves and hunt the hunters, that they wrestle and fell the forest. They say the foxes were worse, arguing over the village itself before finding someone else to compete for.

They say no one has ever seen one and returned safely, all fallen or drowned or forced to wander until their wits have slipped away. They say once these two boy-gods have caught an interest, they sink in their teeth and never let go.

They say some have met them. They say none ever will return.

#x reader #jjk x reader #puffin says stuff #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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thethreedeadkings · 5 months

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0, 2, 7, 9?

0. Height?

6'0"

2. Shoe size?

US 10,5 - 11 depending on the shoe.

7. Have tattoos?

Yeah plently..

9. Have any piercings?

Currenty I have a streched septum, stretched earlobes, a couple upper lobe piercings and a labret.

#thethreedeadkings #ask game #ask #ask answered #thanks anon 🤜🤛

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beingpharmakon · 6 months

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Marks

I streched my left ear when I was 17 for aestetic reasons, today it consists of a slit in my lobe that has altered its shape. And only the most observant will notice the fine line on my cheek, the remains of my pet rabbit scratching me when I was 10. I have a tattoo on my right thigh, a 1cm square frenzy that occured in a garage with two punks that I used to call my friends. I have bruises from last week that appeared beyond my awareness, and they live on me as a symbol of the past with all the rest. Picked scabs, drunken tumbles, everyday bumps, even the meaningless marks are evidence of my encounters with life. They all remind me of specific times, the struggles, the joys, the people that coloured my days, what I believed in and what I wanted for the future. I observe that time washes over me. I change but I stay the same. And I'll never be who I am again.

But none of the important wounds are left on my skin. It's harder to grasp what caused the anxiety I feel when I walk to work than it is to remember how I got a scar on my arm. I live with these marks so much more intensely than the physical ones. They are with me at all times like the others, although much heavier to carry. They are there so I remember my experiences. The emptiness I feel when someone walks out the door, the fear that silences me around road rage, and even the emotion that arises when I receive love and kindness, these are simply marks of the past. The way I look at myself in the mirror today is the result of the way I was treated yesterday. How could I not be left wounded by neglect, abuse or loneliness ? How could it not leave a scar ?

Physical or not, as ugly as they get, the marks can be celebrated. I am not a clean slate and will never be. Collected memories forever there and forever gone. I carry history in my words, my eyes, my heart, and my skin. I share it with whoever will listen. Because it is an honour to own the stories of a life nobody else has lived.

#marks #scars

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pheenix1 · 11 months

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Titanium Screw Flesh Tunnel

Are you looking for the perfect combination of style, comfort, and durability in a flesh tunnel for your streched ear lobe piercing? Look no further than our Titanium Screw Flesh Tunnel.Price:- $15.00

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tauge-nix · 1 year

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i think i just streched my ear lobes to 30mm on accident

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alternaterealityfrowns · 1 year

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i was in a bunch of piercing / ear streching(and septum) groups on facebook and just left them all because they're like insanely picky with jewely distributors???

i understand that you need to use quality jewelry but IMO these groups go too far. i'll be staring on reddit for my piercing and body mod advice.

for example one person was saying how their lobes were a little irritated and they live in the midwest and have been using steel tunnels, i told them they could switch to glass because steel and the midwest winters don't mix (i'm in the midwest) and i referred them to an etsy brand that i've used that had good glass (i only specified glass.) and one of the admins told me that they're not a recommended brand for various reasons and glass can be low quality. whatever, i don't mind being informed. BUT i looked in their "not recommended" list, and they have reasons for each shop, and not one reason has to do with glass. it's all wood quality, adhesives they use, and that it's a mass production company so the working conditions aren't great. (i get the last one, but not everyone can afford $70 glass plugs that they're only going to wear for 3 months you know???) like ??? why tell this person they're not recommended when the specific product i mentioned has absolutely nothing wrong with it? and now i look like an idiot???

and every time someone mentions they can't afford the jewelry from the brands they recommend she just says "well it's a luxury, just save up for it. you don't NEED it" like ? let people have the cheap things. stop being stuck up. there are things that are safe from the not recommended shops.

#stretched #stretched ears #just ranting

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thekeytomoretime · 4 years

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