#depravedly

[txttletale]

it is truly depravedly evil for usamericans to be racist about haitian immigrants when the reason haitians are immigranting to the usa is because the devastation to their country wrought by usamerican-backed military coups and neocolonialist efforts to keep it impoverished for the profit of multinational capital

[ozarkthedog]

18+ mdni

breath play with Marcus Acacius where, while fucking you, he lays his heavy, brute body down, compressing your lungs and stealing your air while depravedly watching you struggle to come on his cock.

“Oh, how sweet you look writhing beneath me." Marcus darkly hums while taming your flailing, frantic hands with one meaty paw. He spears his cock even further into your heat, cruelly kissing the deepest part of you as a practiced thumb roughly circles your clit. "If you want to taste air again, I suggest you listen to your General and come."

[fairytsuk1]

alex always looking at his girl with mega heart eyes 🤭🤭

alex is always looking at you <3

he doesn't even realize it when he posts the vlog, really! he'd been so engrossed in cutting out all the ugly, sensitive and otherwise important information that he hadn't watched it in full. he posts it, then cross-posts it, and then sees his fatal mistake trending on Twitter.

#HEARTEYESQUACKITY

#QUACKITYNOVIA

#STARING PROBLEM

huh? he takes another look at the video, WhatsApp buzzing incessantly with teasing remarks. and .... oh.

5:34 / 12:04

you're holding the camera, showing the bustling market and your commentary is nothing short of overjoyed as you pan the camera to alex.

"i think it's so cool," you hum happily, smiling from behind the lense. "it's like it's own little ecosystem, right here!"

and the way he's looking at you. doe eyes wide in fascination, like the most beautiful statue in the world stood up and started to prance around the world as if it wasn't so delicately made of marble. you were carved to perfection and his. that only just barely touched the surface of his glance at you as you spoke.

alex's cheeks are hot as he skips forward into the video. maybe they were overreacting. it wasn't as bad as they were making it!

7:16 / 12:04

"what, do you think this looks like me? is that why you're laughing, huh?"

"no! i didn't say that! you're putting words in my mouth," you giggle, flipping the camera from your smiling face to his staring down at you, "let them look at your guilty face."

alex is doing it again. he can't help it, it seems, too enamored to look at you like you were any other person. no. you were the person. he could only ever look at you one way, a way in which it conveyed how utterly, depravedly, desperately, happily he was to be in love with you.

he sees now, what they meant about the staring problem.

he knew you were sleeping still. you had yet to brace the wave of commotion that would surround you when you awoke. however, alex aimed to be the first to contact you. he sent you a simple message, a light in wave of notifications.

[alexis]: i love you

[glorysbox]

syzoth x afab!reader no pronouns

wc: 0.7k

warnings: explicitly 18+, porn without plot, subby syzoth, soft top syzoth, drabble

Syzoth is cold.

But you. You’re warm.

It’s one of the most distinguishable traits about Zaterrans. They’re reptiles. Cold-blooded. Which means that they have to seek warmth in other ways. Most opt for warm clothes. Others choose to stay by a fire. Syzoth, though, prefers to be warmed by you.

You’re his favorite warm-blood. He loves burying his face in the crook of your neck—wrapping his arms around you as tight as you can handle and basking in the warmth of your skin. He savors it, in fact; skin to skin contact with you is something he’d do all day if he had no responsibilities. It’s number two on his list of favorite things to do with you.

Number one, though…

“So… warm.” Syzoth’s words come out as a hiss, his face wedged in the crook of your neck—inhaling your scent—as the head of his cock spreads you open. His arms are wrapped tightly around you; serving as a way to keep you in place while simultaneously siphoning the heat that radiates from your body. Syzoth's body weight is nearly fully pressed onto you—sealing your fate under him. It's not as if you'd want to be anywhere else.

The artificial warmth of clothing is nothing compared to being stuffed so deeply inside of you.

Your thighs are clenched tightly around his waist, leaving little to no distance between the both of you; Syzoth's arms locked around you and his cock buried deep inside of you—to the hilt—being enough evidence of your closeness. You can feel him shudder on top of you, his breaths shaky as his grip around your body tightens.

"Your arms," his voice is hoarse as he mutters in your ear, "Your arms—wrap them around me. Please." And you do. You wrap your arms around him, offering some more of the warmth that he's constantly clamoring for.

Syzoth is greedy. It's never enough for him; he needs all of your heat and he needs to feel all of you. The feeling of your soft skin wrapped around him leaves him hissing once more; his grip on you tightening—leaving finger-shaped indents where he grasps so tightly on your warm flesh. Your body is on fire under him, serving only to make him more needy for your heat. He doesn't bother to reach down and rub circles on your clit, either—he can't even think straight.

Just as much as Syzoth is greedy, he is sloppy. Uncoordinated—his hips rut into you, squelching noises of your wetness drowned out by the sound of his raspy whines in your ear. It's almost instinctual, the way that he moves. His thrusting into you is messy—his hips constantly shifting and twitching and struggling to keep up the deprived pace he's set for himself. Your slickness smears all over him—his haphazard thrusts only adding to the way that it leaks out of you. Somehow—knowing that he can't even control the way that he fucks into you makes it feel better.

He fucks into you like an animal. His hips rut and twitch and Syzoth is unsure if he'd even be able to pull out—just because of how good you feel. It's like he's on autopilot; he's not even thinking, really. Just feeling.

"More. Please, I need more..." Syzoth's voice is barely audible over his loud, strained breathing. As much as he wants to look at you, he can't. His mind is so fuzzy. He can't think or concentrate on anything that's not the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him like a vice—his arms squeeze around you harder, his hips pressing inside of you as tightly and as fast as they can go.

He ruts into you, hips stuttering as he buries his face further in the crook of your neck; needy noises slipping from his lips as he continuously rolls his hips into your slick sex. Syzoth squirms on top of you—and if you weren't being fucked into so quickly and depravedly, you'd be able to feel it. Feel the way his hips twitch with each thrust inside of you; feel the way they spasm with each particularly tight squeeze around his cock.

"Please," he whines again, voice all urgent and no patient. Syzoth's tongue drags along the pulse of your neck, leaving a wet trail in it's wake. You shiver—your walls tighten around him, clinging—and he whimpers. "Please. I can't take this."

It's evident that he can't be satiated by anything but you.

[metranart]

My one and only wants you, so he’ll have you (Part 9)

ft. Sensei! Gojo Satoru, sensei! Suguru Geto, reader insert, slight! Megumi x reader.

Gojo Satoru and Suguru Geto happily married, you, their lovely student and the cause of their ragging temptation. The problem: their son, Megumi, your best friend.

𖦹 Warning tags: Gojo x Reader x Geto, threesome, married couple, Suguru and Gojo happy married couple, polyamory, Teacher-Student Relationship.

-

You were paralyzed, uncomfortable in your own skin. Sweating and shivering without the most minimal control. Sukuna had caught you. The bastard had the nose of a bloodhound, without a doubt he had smelled Gojo sensei's saliva on you, you should never have let him eat your pussy that same morning, you should never have fallen asleep in his house- Your lips trembled as if you wanted to give an answer but felt utterly inadequate to find the right words to deceive the King of Liars.

Ryomen Sukuna stared at you with those sickeningly smug eyes, waiting patiently for you to answer his question. 

He knew he had hit the nail on the head, because Megumi's protests stopped the second, he spoke. Young Zenin was quiet now, his frame, maybe even tenser than yours and even though his forehead was smooth as silk, Sukuna could detect the negative feelings rushing out of him in waves. It was an interesting mix of betrayal, anger, jealousy and... hatred. The king of curses looked at him with something that resembled soft smugness, feeling more than pleasantly surprised at having find such a sublime mixture in the young Zenin’s aura. 

Undoubtedly, YOU are the key to reach out to him and make him do whatever he wanted; YOU were his ticket to the body he wanted.

"I asked you a question, girl." Sukuna stressed. He felt amused, depravedly amused, yet kept remarkably composed for how ruthlessly he actually wanted to burst out laughing, "if you don't answer me with the truth in the next..." he glanced at Megumi teasingly, "what will it be, Megumi, in the next sixty seconds?" 

Megumi just stared at him but did not make any judgment, his gaze blank, empty and lacking at the moment. The skin borrower ignored him with a snicker and continued his threat. 

".... I’ll kill you, pretty girl.” 

The king assured with a toothy, sharp grin stretching his lips, and just to put more pressure on you, slowly, more like sluggishly, caged you against the wall and his massive frame, pushing not only at your sanity by slowly moving his body closer and closer, until your back hit the wall and you could almost only see the tattoos marking his skin. 

“One more thing, I’ll know if you are lying.”

Your gazes met and soon, the wicked countdown began.

“One, two, three-” his smile was mocking, nothing good about those canine incisors peeking out lethally, crimson eyes narrowed as if waiting for you to give yourself away, “four, five, six….” He sang without caring, avidly more pressure, your chest rose and fell agitatedly, your pupils were dilated, and your face had turned pale, and it was not only because of the invasive closeness of the king of curses but also for the situation, he had pushed you into.

Meanwhile, Megumi just stared at you, it was like he couldn't move either, his body was tense, and you could see a vein popping in his neck, his eyes were the most expressive thing about him, the more striking. Almost begging you to deny Sukuna’s foul statement, almost dying for you to say that it was a vile lie, and that Sukuna was wrong, Megumi would believe you, you just had to say it—he would believe you. He would gladly avert all suspicion and turn a blind eye just for the good fortune of returning to his blind and delusional fantasy in which, he was courting you to become HIS girlfriend. He was willing to let it go for now- later when you married, he would force you to vanish his tutors from your entire life, but first he needed you to love HIM and realize how good he could be to you-…. just please, disprove Sukuna, even if it is just a vile and pathetic lie, he tells himself every night, be on his side just this time and tell this Demon that his claim it's not true— 

"Seven, eight, nine—" You didn't know what to do, could you lie to Sukuna... will it cost you your life to try?!

Sukuna smiled more evilly if that was even possible. His careless teasing made your stomach churn with horrible nausea; his voice so close felt even worse, everything spoken with his smirk seeped into it. You realized the very sound of Yuuji’s voice now would probably make you shiver in all the wrong ways after this, even in casual conversation.

Sparing you a moment, the king of curses glanced at his future body, Megumi, who did not move an inch, stiffer than a fucking rock, although the posture of his body spoke more than anything the boy could actually say… it was a clear afront to the King, screaming to him that if he dared to harm you, without a minute of delay, he would attack him. He would protect you even if it cost him his life. This handsome vessel, this Zenin boy was in love, madly in love with you... if a fight broke out, Sukuna would see himself forced to hurt him and that was the last thing he wanted to do, that body needed to be intact, perfect till the day he inhabite it—…. So, using his Machiavellian mind, the older spirit hatched a plan that would work best for his long-term goals.

“Seriously?” he huffed, staring at you in disbelief. "You certainly awaken many passions, girl." A glimpse of irritation twitched his brow but despite it, did not make a considerable split in his composure. He still could pretend to be aloof about this for much longer. 

Once his mind was made, Sukuna began to lean his forehead until it was pressed against your shoulder, a movement slow and harmless enough that Megumi didn't feel compelled to act on it, and once close to your ear, he whispered just to you.

“You obviously don't want Megumi to find out what a little skank you are,” The pathetic gasp he received in turn made him chuckle, nevertheless, made Megumi narrow his beautiful blue eyes suspiciously, “so I have something to propose to you, little girl—”

You gulped shakenly and listened to Sukuna using Yuuji's borrowed lips whispering atrocious things to you, your pretty eyes widened from one moment to the next and out of the sudden, Megumi had his full. 

“Stay away from her!”

A breathy, muffled snicker left Sukuna’s throat and then he went back down to whisper at your ear, filling your eardrums with far worse obscenities than he had previously. Straightening up, his dangerous gaze fell on you once again, and his knuckles caressed the blush painting your cheeks in a pretty pink before snicker a calm hiss and raise a hand in Megumi’s direction. 

“Calm down, Megumi, no one likes jealous boys. It’s not an attractive quality.”

A pitiful wail climbed its way up your throat as Megumi's cheeks painted amusingly red and you felt your skin crawl uncontrollably. You couldn’t breathe; a tight gulp of air was caught in your lungs as his mere words thrashed against you wildly. 

“Please —” you begged, eyes clamped shut, face hot, body going rigid with the promise of his mercy. “Please Sukuna— ”

"Just choose, princess."

You blinked back the hot tears and stared him down with as much of a pout as that of a frown.

“So do we have a deal, sorceress?” He whispered once more only to you, and you just looked at him with the same doomed shock as at the beginning.

“—I would accept it if I were you,” Sukuna continued, “Megumi would hate you otherwise, you don't want that, do you?”

A tear that you didn't even know was ready to burst out of your eye rolled down your cheek and Sukuna's grin sharpened, watching it roll away to then calmly stop it in its tracks with a thumb, your eyes on him as he stuck that salty, wet thumb into his mouth with a loud sound of satisfaction.

“Come on, ain’t that of a big deal. We both know you're not new to that—”

Your lips pursed in annoyance and unable to keep looking at the monster that wear your friend’s skin, you nodded your head with a deep, remorseful frown.

Sukuna snorted before letting out a laugh and taking a couple of steps back, he glanced at you and then his eyes went to Megumi.

“A pleasure to see you as always, Megumi.”

And just like that, the tattoos on his body started to fade away, leaving behind a totally and irrefutable, confused Yuuji.

“—(Y/N)? Megumi? What happened?" 

You were too shocked to answer, and Megumi was as well, your stares meeting for a long minute before Megumi ended up breaking the awkward silence.

“You are finally back.” The raven-haired said in a monotonous voice. Yuuji grinned at him, and he responded with a certain determination but when he grinned at you, you didn't even see him, as if he were transparent. Making the goodhearted boy walk closer to you to wrap you in his strong arms, it was the warmth of that hug and the effusive aura of familiarity from him, that was so typical of Yuuji, that brought you back. Both young adults, sighing in relieve when you finally hugged him back.

“If Sukuna did something—” Yuuji asked worried and you denied your head, mutely.

Megumi remained silent, he wasn't stupid, but he refused to think badly of you, you certainly didn't make any deal with Sukuna, or anything like that—you certainly weren't desperate enough to do something so stupid—

“Megumi-” The boy in question glanced at him.

“—Was the curse even defeated?” Yuuji asked from the crook of your shoulder, “—is everyone okay?”

Megumi sensed the place and did not find the trace of cursed energy that there was before. So, he nodded once. 

Yuuji sighed awfully relieved. “Well, at least we achieve that.” His arms wrapping tighter around you.

Soon the three of you heard the recognizable voice of Nobara calling at the distance and you unwrapped yourself from Yuuji, who allowed it just after he planted a sweet kiss on your forehead, to then playfully bump the tip of your nose. “Whateva Sukuna did or say, I won’t let him hurt anyone, I promise, (Y/N).”

Your eyes teared and you agreed weakly. If you only knew.

Eventually, the three of you started to head towards Nobara’s voice with Yuuji guiding the retreat, you just followed in silence and at a calm pace, and that's when you felt it.

Megumi's hand latched strongly in yours, his body now walking alongside you, his eyes never sparing you even a glance, only steady on the path ahead while he almost pulled you to follow his lead. Your confusion, palpable and he could easily sense it, even feel it since your heartbeat was drumming against his palm.

“—I'm the most understanding boyfriend, don’t you agree?” He said all of the sudden, “but even I have my limits, (Y/N).”

Everything was like a soft murmur except the title which was supposed to still be under discussion.

“Wow, are you guys already a couple?” You heard Yuuji ask, glancing over his shoulder without stop walking, cheerfully.

Finally, Megumi's blue eyes landed on you, and you felt again out of breath, you didn't know what to say, you couldn't say no, but you couldn't say yes either... You didn't want to lose Megumi, you didn't want to lose Gojo and Geto, shit! Say something, you have to say something—

Your lips parted hesitantly and in a pitiful and ephemeral whisper you condemned yourself, because without a doubt, that answer would make you lose someone.

COMING SOON PART 10....

➡️ NSFW ARTWORK OF THIS STORY

[moutainrusing]

illness

987 words, @wolfstarmicrofic

Poking Sirius’s forehead was his mother’s wand. Running the length of Sirius’s body was his father’s wand. Tradition of the Black heir turning sixteen: make sure he had no disabilities. No setbacks, disadvantages, handicaps.

With stern frowns, they analysed the results. Then, “Get out.” They faced each other in shock, having said that simultaneously. He has both?

“What?” Sirius croaked.

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Orion bellowed.

Walburga shoved Orion, caterwauling, “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, YOU CRETIN!”

“NO SON OF MINE, YOU CRIPPLE!” Orion screamed.

“HE’S NOT MINE, EITHER!” Walburga roared. (Now she was yelling more at Orion than Sirius…?)

His parents’ faces had twisted, fury curling their lips, passion blotching their cheeks red, anxiety shaking their hands, regret furrowing their brows, sadness freezing their voices, sharpening them to ice. They blamed themselves for his disabilities. Their genes, their problem. Upset he turned out this way, riddled with issues. Bitter, because how could life do this to them? If word got out, eyes would turn to them. This is your invalid? Makes sense.

Sirius nodded slowly, eyes prickling. He didn’t want to be disabled. The first thing people saw about him: the fact that he was incapable, helpless, hopeless. They would judge him while pretending they weren’t. There was always stigma around it. He was weak, dumb, weird. “I— I’ll go. But… what’s wrong with me?” He looked at his parents pleadingly. Fix me.

“Mental illness and physical,” Walburga scoffed.

Orion snarled, “Won’t live past thirty, wretch.”

“Unstable in both mind and muscle. They’ll all give up on you, as they should. Immobile, paralysed.” Walburga laughed shrilly, “Get out.”

“While you can still walk,” Orion sneered.

Sirius nodded silently, a sob choked up in his throat. When he shut the door, he heard his parents break. He followed suit, in tears on the street.

- - -

“I DON’T GIVE A SHIT THAT YOU’RE A WEREWOLF, REMUS. I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!” Sirius took a deep breath. “You,” he jabbed Remus’s chest. “Being. A. Werewolf. Doesn’t. Matter.”

“But it does.” Remus shoved Sirius’s hand away pitifully. “I’ll hinder your life. You can find love with someone worthy, live a beautiful life until you’re grey and old—”

“I’LL NEVER BE GREY AND OLD!” Sirius yelled, not catching the words before they left his mouth. His eyes widened.

“What?” Remus stammered.

Sirius laughed harshly. “I’ll probably die before you. In fact, I’m the one who’ll hinder you.” He bowed dramatically, “I’m sick.” He jabbed his chest, “I can already feel it. Y’know how you call me clumsy?” Sirius smirked depravedly. “Well, that’s my muscles spasming. Ain’t working properly. They’re giving up on me like my parents did. Like you’re doing. And I’m crazy?” Sirius cackled, “That’s my brain. Fucking disabled.”

“Sirius,” Remus whispered.

Sirius pointed frantically, “See?! Already scared of me!”

“No, Sirius,” Remus shook his head softly. “Whatever is going on is not a problem. Nothing’s wrong with you. You’re human.”

“Yeah, right, say that to yourself,” Sirius scoffed.

Remus sighed, “It’s different—”

“Is it though?” Sirius glared. “I’m gonna die early ‘cause of something I can’t control, something people still blame and judge me for. Their discrimination is more pointless than I am.”

“You’re not pointless,” Remus argued.

“And you?” Sirius returned, eyebrow raised.

“I’m not…” Remus winced, finishing pathetically, “Pointless.”

“Ha!” Sirius crowed victoriously. “You don’t believe it! How am I supposed to believe that being disabled isn’t a curse when you act like that?! When everyone acts like that?! You coo and reassure someone else it’s okay, but when it’s you?!”

“I…” Remus was at a loss for words.

Fine. Sirius had way too much for both of them. “Why do you add on to the discrimination already there?”

Remus shook his head helplessly.

Sirius prodded, “Why can’t people let us be? Everyone’s gonna die, so let us be happy. When I first found out, I hated myself. But then I realised that even with disabilities, I am still myself. I’m still brave, smart, whatever. I never stopped. And my parents’ve always been wrong. Of course they were wrong about disabilities, too. I dunno what’s gonna happen to me, but then, does anyone? You could get caught in an accident any day! We could die any day! You’re a werewolf, but you never stopped being Remus. You never stopped being thoughtful, beautiful, lovely, mine. My friend,” Sirius clarified, smiling gently.

Loud again, “But we should be more if we both want that. Let us want! Take all the love you get, because so many people will deny you the best life you deserve. So what if it doesn’t last? If it’s not always happy? Let yourself live.”

Remus was crying. While Sirius could still move his fingers, he brushed the tears away.

- - -

Sirius did make it to thirty. Wheelchair-bound, unable to move a muscle nor talk, brain functioning perfectly, heart beating a love song for Remus.

He could move a few muscles. His thumb: up and down, up and down as he pressed the button of a Muggle invention to form words on this screen.

He could write books on anything, all the knowledge of OWLs and NEWTs and beyond firmly stuck in the crevices of his brain.

Remus pulled a chair up next to him, having also made it to thirty: grey-haired, smiling, walking with a cane, tired, living, bones aching, thinking, dreaming, being.

Scanning over Sirius’s document, Remus’s eyes lit up, and he turned to Sirius with a grin. “You’re the smartest person I know.”

Sirius couldn’t say anything except stare at Remus in awe. But that was okay, because Remus had enough words for both of them.

Remus leaned towards Sirius, giving him enough time to roll away if necessary, before slotting their lips together. “You’re amazing. I love you,” Remus mumbled. Sirius put all his effort, energy, love towards smiling into the kiss. Nothing happened, but he knew Remus could feel it anyway.

[jesuistrestriste]

depravedly thinking abt giving art donaldson a nursing handjob

like. the whole boob in his mouth while you just jerk him off and stroke his curls and let him melt into you. ugh. he’d eat that up.

i think he’d just be moaning around the softness that he’s latched onto, licking n sucking n whatnot, and his eyes are closed right up until he comes. then they kinda flutter a little and his whole face scrunches as he shudders and spills over your fingers:/

[nanamiscocksleeve]

prompt 22 with violinist gojo and piano accompanist reader (theyre kindof rivals,, reader hates gojo for being reckless during competition) feel free to skip if it's too complex 👉👈

Ok I love this! Thank you anon for this unique and really cute request.

--------

The smooth sound of musical notes flows through the concert hall. Famous violinist Gojo Satoru, and you, a piano prodigy who built up your reputation score by score.

To an outsider, the two of you seemed to be in harmony, perfectly in sync with each other's music. The sounds crescendo and soar, then slowly end, the quivering final pitch from the violin hanging in the air.

The crowd erupts into applause and both of you bow before exiting the stage. Once away from the public eye, you round on Satoru.

"Your pitch was off."

"What?" Gojo gives you a withering look. "No I wasn't. It was perfect."

"It needed to be louder."

"No it didn't. You need to stop slamming on the damn piano keys."

"Excuse me?" You ask scathingly. "It's not my fault you're deafer than a doornail!"

The two of you start bickering back and forth, before Satoru finally snaps and drags you into one of the dressing rooms backstage.

"Satoru what the f-" you're caught off guard as Satoru crushes your mouth with his, slipping his tongue inside, the taste of him teasing your senses.

He hoists you into the dressing table, your back pressing against the mirror, your dress being rucked up past your thighs. Not bothering to be delicate, he rips your stockings at the crotch ignoring your protests.

Your panties are hooked to the side and he rubs your wet slit, making you gasp and buck your hips, then you let out a lewd moan as he shoves two fingers into your fluttering core.

You try to suppress your noises but with a wicked grin Satoru mercilessly fingers you, curling up and pressing your on g-spot relentlessly.

"Whats the matter?" he asks, smirking depravedly. "Why are you being so quiet? Weren't you the one bitching about needing to be louder?"

His thumb finds your clit and applies firm circular pressure, and you nearly lose all self control, singing your pleasure and voice keening louder and louder until you explode from the pleasure, walls spasming on his fingers, a ring of cream forming at the base of his fingers.

He licks his fingers clean, his face smug as he looks at your fucked out expression. With your remaining brain cells you bite out , "Your fingering needs work."

"I plucked your g-string just fine." Snickering at the indignant expression on your face he waltzes out of the room.

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

The others Primarchs I can see with a corruption kink are Konrad and post-Heresy Fulgrim.

On the one hand, it's just right for Konrad. On the other hand, he wants to preserve your innocence. Everything is complicated with him. But with Fulgrim, it's just right. For some reason, I'm in the mood for blurbs today.

You squeak, either from surprise or from unusual feelings that your body was not prepared for. Your eyes, red and full of tears, suddenly open. Before you close them again and press your cheek to the bed, unable to look at the man.

But Fulgrim only bites his lip harder at such a sight. How an innocent and beautiful creature comprehends new sensations for yourself. Seductive and enticing. But due to your modesty, you is not ready to accept them despite the fact that your body says "yes".

A work of art.

Fulgrim was much stronger, but he is glad that you yourself gave in to his pressure. And allowed him to strip you to the waist and tie you to the bed. You were not yet accustomed to the primarch's entertainment and could resist. Run away and hide in the corner of the room, covering your naked body and burning with shame. Like the first time he lay with you.

But the worst thing is, you could ruin his painting. Fulgrim waits for you to calm down before letting the last drop of wax fall on your body. The mark on your stomach is both repulsive and tempting. The Primarch couldn't understand where it came from in his mind. But the voice in his head reassured him that this was how it should be.

This is amazing. Never before had the Primarch felt so good before the purge of Laeran. Never did he think that you would color his world. Oh, yes, you. You breathe hard, trying to hide the moan, but it is too sweet for his ears to ignore.

As the man falls on you, you look up at him with wide eyes. Like an innocent, frightened fawn. In truth, Fulgrim did not want you to lose your charm… but the desire to spoil you was too strong.

"My beauty behaves so depravedly," the man purrs as you try to justify yourself. Fulgrim wipes the tears from your cheeks before tasting them. Just as he thought. Pure perfection.

“Shall we continue?”

[st-dorothy-minority]

Started this for the RadioApple week Day 1 prompt Late Night. Should I finish it? 🤔 It'll just be tentacle porn....

****

“Shall we begin?”

The room was nearly pitch black, yet Lucifer could still see the silhouette of the lengthy antlers. And those glowing red eyes with pupils in the shape of dials.

And that ever present ear to ear grin.

Exhaling a nervous breath, Lucifer gave his consent. “I’m ready.”

This was only their second time doing this – the second time Lucifer was choosing to put his trust in Alastor for the simple goal of attaining peak arousal through pure carnal debauchery. The smooth familiarity of the tentacles wrapping around his wrists and ankles had his heart beating faster and his cock already at attention. Being rendered incapacitated in such a way was a kink he didn’t know he had until very recently when they fucked around and found out one night at the hotel. Now that they were away from everyone in Lucifer’s own bedroom and home, he could only imagine how much Alastor would turn up the intensity this time.

A dark tendril caressed his cheek while Alastor languidly glided his tongue along the other side of his face. Lucifer emitted a quiet moan and curled his toes.

“You’re a very pretty little pet,” Alastor purred into his ear, and Lucifer fought against the restraints to press himself against the other man’s body. Alastor merely chuckled at the attempt. “So eager tonight, I see. What would you like me to do next?”

“Touch me,” Lucifer whispered, arching upward off the bed.

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Everywhere. All over.”

“And how would you like it, hm?”

Lucifer nearly reconsidered the answer he was about to give, his mind screamed not to trust him, that it was too dangerous – but the desires of his body ultimately won.

“Rough,” he stated confidently. His eyes briefly flashed to red as he grinned depravedly, and his horns and tail sprouted as he felt the unyielding need to be defiled and lost to sin.

[arcaneacolyte]

CW: chest and nipple kink, lactation kink, male lactation, hucow kink, Phantom/Aeon becoming a little obsessed with a kink involving Aether's chest, Dubious Consent (if you squint, both of them are into it just didn't communicate it to one another), use of the word 'tits' to describe a chest.

If I forgot anything else please tell me.

So I'm high and I've been thinking depravedly and a thought that's been consistent has been Phantom/Aeon being so incredibly attracted to how big Aether's chest is. How he humps his pillows thinking about fucking Aether chest, his *tits*. And the word tits sends the little Quint down a spiral of lust and kink because he literally cannot stop thinking of Aether's chest as tits now.

He wants to pinch them, lick them, bite them, *suck them*, and the squeaking of his bed springs gets louder as he humps desperately, thinking about Aether's *tits* and his horny mind just keeps making stupidly erotic comparisons and through lines, and he thinks again about *sucking* on Aether's tits, and what can happen sometimes when you *suck* on tits?

*They can give milk.*

Little Bug can't take it. He cums so hard he bites through his lip and even the pain doesn't stop how hard he thrusts into the fabric, wishing it was Aether's *tits* but at the same time wishing he were *sucking* on them.

When he finally comes down he knows he's fucked, knows that he's changed now, in one of those, "I had absolutely no idea how much this thought/image could turn me on" kinda ways. There's guilt, of course, but it all simmers wrong in his belly and his cock, because that just makes the horniness *worse.*

And he never feels guilty enough about it that it stops him from masturbating furiously to the idea of Aether's chest being oh so sensitive when he's suckling that Aether might let down milk, and also how it might be enough stimulation to make the bigger Quint *cum*.

So full of milk, such a good producer, wanting to provide.

Just like a *cow*.

And oh, *fuck* he has cute little horns and a tail already, doesn't he? Bugs' mind tries to ration with him, get him to give in to the pleasure that's going to make him stupid with how hard he fucks his fist repeatedly and purses his lips, suckling the air like he wish he could do to Aether.

It's embarrassing, it's so horrifically embarrassing but he can't stop because he *likes* how embarrassing it is. *Likes* how he can't stop staring at Aether's chest when the bigger Quint isn't looking, feeling *thirsty* of all things while his cock throbs.

And it gets to the point where he just *has* to touch, *has* to know what they feel like and taste like. And when finally he gets the chance--of course not explaining to Aether what he *really* wants because Bug doesn't know if he can handle a poor reaction--the little Quint just can't take it, he has to touch and pinch for a while first. Then he just gets consumed by it almost like a hypnotic trance, making up for time lost in his masturbatory fantasies.

Aether notices of course; the little Quint is paying attention to *only* his chest and nipples, tangibly *and* visually. So he makes a joke with a laugh *just* barely brushed with embarrassment, "What's up.....you zoning out about cows or something?"

And just that word is enough for the Little Bug to snap out of his reverie mere moments before it fully registers, and his cock throbs so hard he thinks he's going to cum for a few seconds.

But he doesn't, and he stares down at Aether with wide half terrified half desperate eyes, panting and throbbing and feeling like he's two seconds away from passing out.

Aether just smiles weakly, and let's out a soft and genuinely horny little, "M-moo~"

Little Bug *does* cum this time.

[gabriellerudessa]

NSFW Alphabet - Norm Maclean

This man has taken over my thoughts, send help. Or not. Now to work on NSFW Alphabet for Thaddeus because he crept up on me like a lost puppy lololol

AO3

Word Count: 3.737

Warnings: ... This is a NSFW Alphabet, I think that's a warning in itself lolololol

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Norm is usually very attentive, jumping to be the one to do clean up; once really in love and if a shower or bathtub available, likes to help his partner showering/bathing, and will melt if the same is done for him. Water and food are not the first on his mind, but if his partner asks, he gets without complaint. Beyond this, a cuddle-bug; already likes cuddles, but after sex it’s multiplied by ten. Norm loves how the physical contact feels after it, and wants to hug and feel his partner’s warmth long after. Adores if his partner plays softly with his hair during it.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

In his partner, he totally likes butts and legs in general. Can literally spend hours just looking and squeezing, during sex or outside of it; his partner can just straddle him or sit with their legs on his lap, he loves both because it means he can just stroke and grab and squeeze, it doesn’t even need to end in anything. Big fan of walking behind his partner, especially if they’re using tight pants or short skirts, because it means he can watch all the movements and flex of muscles. Not so big on just slapping their butt if walking around… Unless Norm is trying to actually start something.

What he most like about himself is definitely his mouth. With it he can kiss his partner, on the mouth and everywhere else, he can go down on them and wring as much pleasure as possible from their body. Also because once he gets the hang of what makes his partner tick, he knows what exactly to say to get them going and he will use this power with no regrets – once he gets over his own embarrassment at saying anything dirty where anyone can hear him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Doesn’t have a specific preference on if cumming inside or outside, and goes as his partner prefers; however, once actually in love and in a relationship, acquires a fascination at seeing his spend dripping out of his partner. Won’t force it either way.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

… Norm discovers himself as massively jealous when he falls in love. He guesses it’s because this is something only his, not because of the Vault or his chores or whatever; the feeling exists despite it all and anything that may threaten it makes him uncomfortable.

Still absolutely annoyed at it and does his best to not actually act on it or anything, but the thoughts still circle his head, ranging from deathly violent – tearing eyes for looking at his partner, cutting fingers for touching and so on –, to depravedly sexual – usually finding the closest place with a door, push his partner against the wall and go down on them until they’re screaming his name. Doesn’t want to be seen when having sex, but imagining the one that caused the jealousy walking by and hearing that he is the one causing pleasure scratches an itch he didn’t even know he had.

Usually just pulls his partner for a very possessive kiss where the person can see; if the person causing the jealousy is being obnoxious and not respecting his partner’s boundaries, then anger also gets into play and Norm will murder them with words; if in the Wasteland, he isn’t above threatening with weapons of some type.

Occasionally, after all is said and done and Norm and his partner get away, will end up in mind-blowing slow sex – he wants that reassurance that they’re still together and to make his partner feel good if the person made them uncomfortable. If his partner asks, denies to the death – me? Jealous? Pfff, of course not. Not even exactly a secret, because unless his partner is that distracted, it eventually becomes obvious. He will still deny.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Pretty experienced, mainly regarding sex in itself, because of Vault’s 33 culture. Not so much about romantic intimacy, since there was some emotional distance needed most of the time, with how everyone was so closely related. There are things he may be confused about and that he haven’t tried before and so on, but he absolutely knows what he’s doing, how to satisfy his partner, and what he likes.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

A big fan of missionary and any position that allows him to both keep his hands on his partner’s butt and legs while also allowing him to kiss their lips and see the play of pleasure on their face, to make sure he’s doing it right. Prefers a bed, but Norm will push his partner against a wall or table if that’s what’s available – and the height difference isn’t that big and uncomfortable if against a wall. Goes to heaven and back if his partner wrap their legs around his waist, the tighter the better.

If the day was a tiring one, he’s all up for being ridden, or to lying down facing each other with one of his partner’s legs above his hips. Both end up as very lazy and carefree sex.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Norm can be described a bit as a “bratty little shit”. He likes a humorous dirty back-and-forth bedroom talk, in the foreplay and during it all, teasing his partner about what he wants to do and so on. He can be serious, usually when both he and his partner are stressed about something and it’s harder to get into the right mindset to tease regarding sex, but he does prefer the teasing, the sarcasm and slight goofy way, especially if it’s a serious relationship, because it’s a way both of them get vulnerable and show more of themselves and what they like for him. It’s not up there as a kink, but Norm loves seeing his partner happy. And hey, if it helps along in making his partner a sobbing mess, why not?

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Yes, the carpet matches; has a faint trail down his navel. Trims it all a bit, more to avoid any discomfort with the Vault-Suit or his underwear.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

This is something that really depends with Norm. If it’s all purely casual and blowing off steam, not that romantic, most only about mutual pleasure but that’s it, usually something fast and almost mindless, with no thought to romantic intimacy.

If in actual love, Norm is even a bit shocked at how much of a romantic he can be, desperately craving the romantic connection, in between all the teasing and dirty talk. It becomes all about the eye contact, doing things that makes his partner feel loved, wanting to be as close as possible. Will take his time in finding the best angle, speed and strength of his thrusts so they both enjoy it as most as possible, and sometimes it will be such a way that the intensity of the moment can be overwhelming. Usually by this moment his brain can barely function to tease and be a brat and he only wants to know that his partner is feeling as much pleasure as possible.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Norm’s so glad that adulthood leveled his hormones in such a way that he only does it mostly when too stressed and needs the relief but can’t be bothered to see if one of his casual sex partners are free and up to it. In the end, it’s very rare that Norm actually does masturbate himself.

With a fixed partner and in love, however, if it’s all about stress relief, Norm prefers to masturbate instead of asking his partner to help him out, trying to be as fast and methodical as possible, which results in becoming more frequent. This is especially true if the relationship is recent: he feels weird if its about stress relief only, the romantic intimacy he comes to expect a bit off, as if he doesn’t connect right and is making it all about himself. It his partner offers to help him or interrupts him masturbating and moves to help, however, won’t deny, even if feeling extremely embarrassed.

As the relationship matures, however, Norm becomes more comfortable into asking his partner to help him before going directly to take care of things himself. Norm will have no problem if he ends up having to do all himself, but won’t feel embarrassed by the denial; and, if his partner accepts, he notices and learns that mutual masturbation can also be good for connection and romantic intimacy, as long as both are into it and enjoying themselves and each other.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Hair pulling is the main one. Pull his hair by the roots and Norm is done for, if he wasn’t turned on before, now he is; he effectively leans his head with the pull. Keep it for the whole session and it doesn’t take long for Norm to become glassy-eyed. Give tighter pulls and he whimpers.

It’s followed up by eating/sucking his partner. Norm will spend hours between his partner’s thighs if allowed, to the point of overstimulating them, moaning and groaning into it. In this case, while he’s ok with getting on his knees for it, he actually prefers if his partner sits on his face, and they better put their whole weight on it – he will wrap his arms around their thighs to keep it this way. Pull his hair during it and Norm becomes a mess – there have been cases where both resulted in Norm coming without having his cock touched. He was a bit embarrassed the first time it happened, but he came to appreciate it because every time it happened meant that he could keep focusing on making his partner scream for him without having to worry too much about himself.

If Norm ends up actually in love with his partner, instead of just a sexual relationship, and he doesn’t feel as if building a family and so on is just about “perpetuating America” and effectively MORE WORK, he may eventually find himself with a bit of a breeding kink, fascinated at seeing his spend dripping out from his partner and being tempted to push it back in. It will have to be unlocked from him and he will be absolutely floored at it, unsure if it actually equals to wanting to build a family; not something he will immediately discuss. Once Norm processes it and does bring it up, he will respect his partner’s wishes; if his partner is into it, things get messy fast. It frequently may lead to bouts of cock-warming, staying inside after all is said and done, enjoying each other’s warmth for as long as possible.

May also find himself in a position of wanting to worship the body of his partner and again, very floored at it, but finds it easier to deal with.

A big fan of hearing praise; it only gets worse after how the Council in the Vault talks about his “lack of enthusiasm” regarding his jobs in the Vault. He wants to know he’s making you feel good, that you appreciate him and so on, that he’s enthusiastic about something. He tries doing the praising and if his partner really likes leans into it, but thinks it doesn’t come naturally to him – he’s way more experience at teasing than praise.

A bit of seeing his partner absolutely overwhelmed with pleasure he caused, sobbing and moaning and glassy-eyed and an overall mess.

And finally, marking. Norm particularly prefers to scratch his partner and see the bruises his grip leaves on their thighs, butt, waist and hips. In himself, there’s no preference: hickey, scratches, bites, all fair game and all makes him a mess, no preference in location. If the marks, specially scratches, are made in the height of passion, not only it all makes him come hard, but afterwards Norm is so smug about it that it can be downright infuriating – only moment where he is not bothered if some blood is drawn, they all mark how much pleasure Norm brought to his partner.

If his partner uses lipstick, then one of the best things they can do is make sure to leave a ring around his cock and open mouthed kiss in places he can easily see. Norm goes almost literally insane.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Preferably, any place he can lock the doors and windows so they won’t be seen or interrupted. Norm hates to be interrupted or have his personal relationships so out in the open, and living in a Vault where everyone knows about everyone, with occasionally being caught in the act when a teenager, it really made him conscious in adulthood to be careful.

If it’s a wall, a table, a bed or whatever else, it doesn’t matter, as long as Norm and his partner can’t be interrupted or caught in it.

Also please not the kitchen. Norm worked in one and has big no regarding doing sex in a place where one cooks and eats.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Not that easy to get Norm going beyond “stressed, need to blow off steam or I’ll explode”, but there are some sure-fire ways, especially if in a relationship. Playing with his hair, sliding a nose and gentle kisses along his neck and shoulders, delicate touches against his skin, using lipstick and kissing him with it on, are all ways to make Norm become aroused enough to start thinking and considering actual sex.

If his partner really, really wants to get Norm going, tight pants and some strategic bends will have him pulling them to the closest room with a lockable door in ten minutes, tops.

On a minor note, jealousy also can get him going, as long as his partner is NOT doing it on purpose and it’s just some jerk making the moves on them and making his partner uncomfortable. Norm will make his partner forget anything but him the next time he gets his hands on them, so they both can forget all about the jerk.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Absolutely nothing skirting close to CNC; Norm likes to feel wanted, and wants that certainty that his partner also wants this as much as possible. CNC is the fastest way to make him flaccid. Also no degradation, towards himself or his partner; he feels inadequate enough in the Vault and he doesn’t want his partner to feel like this.

Also absolutely nothing that can actually hurt either of them.

Attempted choking once, on both ends, deeply disliked it. He wants to hear his partner praising him, and he likes to be able to talk and tease.

Also, because of how things are in the Vault, a big no on doing it in Public or Semi-Public.

Norm will also feel very miffed if his partner attempts to provoke jealousy on purpose. Makes Norm feels insecure, as if his partner doesn’t really wants to be with him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Likes receiving, loves giving. As mentioned, he goes insane if there’s lipstick marks on his cock, but in the end he really enjoys to have his partner’s thighs around his head as he goes down on them. Something in it, the sounds he can pull, the taste, the weight on his shoulders, how his partner can’t help but thrust and grind into him, how he can reduce someone to a begging and sobbing mess with his mouth really gets him going. And, as mentioned, if partner sitting on his face for it and pulling on his hair, there’s a good chance of Norm coming untouched, that’s how much he enjoys giving oral.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the mood and on the level of emotional connection. Casual partners and so on, things are usually faster, but not rough – Norm can’t actually be rough regarding sex. If in a relationship and in love, his preference is slow, deep, and sensual, trying to make it last and find the best way to make both his mind and his partner’s blissfully empty.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He grew up from teenage to adulthood in the Vault. He had no particular trouble and would partake in them frequently, since it was the easiest, in between classes then work and any other chores in the Vault. However, the moment he starts being able to actually take his time for both him and his partner, he really started to grow a dislike for quickies: they rarely gave him the sight of his partner as a sobbing and moaning mess, and that’s a sight Norm really comes to appreciate.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Surprisingly, Norm is quite a risk taker in the bedroom. As long as it isn’t public or can’t hurt him or his partner, he will try at least once. Tying his partner or being the one tied, orgasm denial, overstimulation, roleplays… And, occasionally, even if he didn’t particularly like something, but his partner enjoyed, he may do it again for them.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

One to two long rounds, and I mean long. Norm absolutely prefers to focus on quality; he wants to see his partner shivering and sobbing from pleasure at the end, and he discovered early that he really preferred to focus on one, at most two orgasms for himself, that are equally able to leave him a mess. He won’t change positions much, unless either him or his partner are uncomfortable.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Norm doesn’t own toys nor has had the opportunity to use them, it doesn’t sound as something that really made its way into the Vault in a way that’s widely available, but he wouldn’t be opposed at trying some and would, without a doubt, acquire a taste for them. Would enjoy learning some knots and tying his partner down. Absolutely accepts to be the one tied down and is the most beautiful mess, he won’t be above begging if it happens.

Also, the day Norm discovers vibrators is the day his partner loses any and all peace, especially if overstimulation is on the table; this man will use and abuse of them against his partner, with the bedroom talk going strong. Again, would accept to be on the other side of it, and would cry of overstimulation. Would repeat it without a second thought.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A bit unfair in the bedroom, but not much, just enough in the foreplay to get both of them going; no matter if casual or actual relationship, Norm can’t deny pleasure for long.

Outside the bedroom, unable to tease with touches and so on, too embarrassed to even try this type of thing where anyone can see. With words, not something that come naturally to him at first, because of the whole “anyone can see”, but once he learns what gets his partner going and it’s not easy for someone else to hear, won’t be opposed to whisper dirty talk, all about promises of what they’ll get up too once they’re able to.

Unable to deal with teasing outside the bedroom beyond something light and tame, and even then Norm will blush like crazy. Answer to his dirty talk with equal dirty talk outside the bedroom and this man will bluescreen.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Beyond the dirty back-and-forth of foreplay, Norm lets out A LOT of sounds of pleasure once things get going enough that brain power for dirty talk becomes a hard commodity: groans, moans, whimpers, all of it. Also absurdly easy to get him loud, and he will attempt to muffle himself on his partner’s body. At the same time, Norm won’t complain if his partner grabs his hair and keeps him from being able to do it, and with the hair pulling, well, he will be louder.

Absolutely mortified if he discovers other people could hear them and actually did hear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Loves to sink his nose in his partner’s groin and smell them before going down on them/eating them out, it will effectively make him harder. Norm won’t steal his partner’s underwear, he thinks that’s a huge privacy invasion. However, his partner can slip some used underwear in Norm’s pocket or something of the type before they both go on their businesses for the day. The moment Norm finds the piece of clothing, he will hunt them down as soon as possible and go down on them and God have mercy on his partner because Norm won’t have: he won’t stop until they can’t walk.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Average length, kinda thick. Knows how to use it and very well.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Sits at a general medium, fluctuating a little depending on his stress levels. Not too horny on a daily basis, even when in a relationship as opposed to only casual sex. However, when he does get going, Norm is very much in an all or nothing mindset.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not quick to fall asleep. In general Norm finds sleep hard enough, after sex it’s weird how most of the times he finds himself even more awake, even if tired. He may just talk and snuggle, but it’s not hard for Norm’s partner to fall asleep before him. Not bothered by it.

[battleangel]

2 NFL Player Deaths Under 35 — NEXT!

Let's get to the first death that occurred in May 2024.

The next and final death I am going to discuss happened one month prior in April 2024.

First of all, did you catch that?

Both players' deaths were under six months ago. This year.

Did you hear about either one?

And, even if you did during the off season, they have both been swept under the collective rug with 300+ other NFL CTE corpses now that the regular season is underway.

The first death is Ray Lewis Jr.'s, Hall of Fame Ravens Linebacker's, son Ray Lewis III, at 28.

He technically wasn't an NFL player but he did play professionally at the indoor arena level as well as playing at Miami University.

Ray Lewis’ (Hall of Fame Ravens Linebacker) son, Ray Lewis III,died at 28 this May of an accidental drug overdose.

He had Stage II CTE.

He started tackle football at age 5.

He played college football at his father's, Ray Lewis', alma mater, for the Miami University Hurricanes then he pursued a career in professional indoor arena football.

Google:

"Lewis’ family stated in the years leading up to his death, Lewis experienced issues with memory, was extremely forgetful & exhibited erratic, sporadic behavior & impulsivity.

His mother suspected he was battling CTE."

His autopsy report revealed an accidental cause of death due to a mixture of fentanyl, cocaine, methamphetamine, alcohol & anti-anxiety pills.

His father remains just as indoctrinated into the cult of football after his sons CTE induced accidental drug overdose at 28:

“We are proud to honor Ray Rays legacy by teaching OUR YOUTH about football SAFETY while sharing & supporting research on CTE.”

The emphasis with the capitalization added by me to convey my utter and complete total disgust — safety???????????????????????????

The mother had a totally different & sane take:

“Little did I know when I put my son in tackle football at age 5, I ran the risk of burying him 22 years later. I would have done things different now knowing the risks. We need to wait until our babies are at least 14 to allow them to play tackle football. It breaks my heart that you have to die to get a diagnosis for this disease.”

This only happened four months ago in May and I didnt hear one word about it before today and I only came across it today because I regularly research the effects of tackle football, the consequences of repetitive subconcussive head impacts & concussions & the NFL's, NCAA's & Pop Warner's continued deception & subterfuge dating back 100 years to the literal 1930's that repetitive SUBconcussive head impacts, NOT concussions, are the cause of degenerative neurological conditions & disorders like CTE, Parkinson's disease, ALS, Alzheimers, dementia & Lewey Body Disease.

So, I am always researching and coming across something which is the only reason I saw anything today regarding Ray Lewis' son dying of an accidental drug overdose and being posthumously diagnosed with Stage II CTE at the age of 28.

The delirium of a new NFL season is already upon us and, as we approach Week 3, there is already the requisite breathless reporting, endless storylines, drama & spectacle that accompanies each and every single season of football.

Even Hall of Fame linebacker for the Ravens, Ray Lewis', son dying of an accidental drug overdose & being diagnosed with Stage II CTE during the off season this May barely made a blip on our collective NFL obsessed radar and it clearly wasn't even an afterthought by the time the NFL season got underway a mere four months later earlier this month in September.

Nothing stops the NFL machine — not even the CTE induced accidental overdose death of one of the leagues most famous & recently voted greatest linebacker of all time's 28 year old son.

The show always goes on.

Sickeningly, depravedly, mind numbingly, thoughtlessly, inhumanely, unfairly & unjustly.

But the show does goes on.

It always does in the NFL.

Nothing seemingly ever stops the non-stop allure and spectacle of the game.

Google:

"Ray Lewis III told The Baltimore Sun that he hoped to follow in his fathers footsteps:

“One day, I do dream of making it to the NFL. But I also have a dream of making a difference in peoples lives outside the football field.”

He died before the age of 30!

He died alone per the police report surrounded by anti-anxiety pills & a used drug needle!

Is the sport of football worth that much?

What makes people question football?

Does anything make us collectively stop and question ourselves and our rabid obsession & compulsive desire to endlessly consume a sport that is endlessly consuming its own players?

Or is it just, on to Chiefs Falcons Sunday night?

Well, I have a question amongst all the early NFL season hoopla, hyperbole & mass hysteria.

Football IS mass hysteria.

Why does anyone have to DIE to learn a LIFE lesson???

Ray Lewis III started tackle at age 5.

23 years of tackle football started at the absolute youngest & insanest age allowed by Pop Warner.

Dead at 28 from the sport of football which absolutely should have been included as an underlying cause of death on his death certificate.

It wasnt but it absolutely should have been.

In every case where the individual dies and is diagnosed with CTE — whether it was a drug overdose, accident, suicide, heart attack, etc. — CTE absolutely should be listed, not as the immediate cause, but definitely as an underlying cause of death.

And right next to CTE it should say — "Caused by X years of participation in tackle football".

But it won't, will it?

Because of the NFL, its farm system the NCAA & its feeder system, Pop Warner.

The $1 billion concussion settlement doesnt even cover CTE!

Players with CTE & their families only get payments under the settlement if they also had dementia symptoms along with their CTE diagnosis.

The NFL is cruel & sociopathic.

So, trust that the record breaking $13 billion that the NFL generated in revenue last season protects them from ever having to actually give a damn.

And certainly, prevents death certificates from being filled out honestly.

And prevents the American Academy of Pediatrics from recommending that 5 year old children — like Ray Lewis III — don't endure 336 head impacts a season on average in youth tackle football.

How is permanent brain damage safe for children?

All the hallmarks of CTE, including the symptoms & dangerous attempts to self-medicate leading to an untimely death, are present in the last years of Ray Lewis III's life as well as in his tragic death at 28.

The highly vaunted ironically titled “life lessons” imparted from “the game of football” often leaves its male participants fucking DEAD — just a small little detail always overlooked by footballs’ most rabid acolytes, fanatics & especially current & former participants, as well as the most hyped ambassadors of the game, who like Ray Lewis III's father & newest Fox analyst Tom Brady, are often the loudest & most unapologetic proponents, defenders & proselytizers of "the game".

You can learn the SAME exact lessons without fucking dying young & early for no fucking reason!

Basketball. Baseball. Track. Volunteering. Marathons. Debate teams. Chess. Reading clubs. Hiking. Camping. Rock climbing. Lifting weights. Travel. Solitude. Meditation. Vow of silence. Fasting. Minimalism. Frugality. Chastity. Abstinence. Restrictive food consumption. Analog living without digital or electronic devices. Esotericism. Spiritual enlightenment. Total environmental quietude - no music, podcasts, youtube, streaming, TV, movies, videogames, no sound noise or aural distractions. Being a magician, illusionist or mentalist. Aerialism. Fire breathing. Acrobatics. Dance. Acting. Singing. Writing. Poetry. Painting. Drawing. Illustrations. Screenplays. Improv. Comedy. Breakdancing. Street performance. Abstract art. Conceptual & performance art. Philosophy.

This is a very partial & incomplete list but certainly gets my point across.

I am purposely leaving off soccer until they get rid of heading the ball and ice hockey until they remove checking against the boards as that has led to players in both sports being posthumously diagnosed with CTE. Wrestling, with its takedowns, has also resulted in athletes being posthumously diagnosed with CTE. Mixed martial arts & boxing have all the same issues as football in terms of CTE so I have not included either sport in my above list. Lacrosse also causes many repetitive subconcussive head impacts so it is not included in the above list.

There are SO many different endeavors one can pursue in life that can discipline the mind, challenge the self, sharpen the will & resolve, instill perseverance & steadfastness.

I reject the disgusting militaristic & hegemonic notion that boys & men can only learn these lessons by pulverizing their bodies, battering their brains & destroying their minds through the “game” of football which, if you make it to the top echelon of the sport at the NFL level, leaves 1/3 of its participants per the NFL’s own actuaries with a neurological condition or disorder like CTE, Parkinson's, Alzheimer's disease, ALS, dementia & Lewy Body Dementia.

You don't have to DIE to learn a LIFE LESSON!

Football is a true cult.

So, that was the first off season football death with a player under 35 that occurred this off season in May 2024.

Let's discuss the second one that occurred a month prior, in April 2024.

Literally, only five months ago.

And it's already been disappeared by the viscera and spectacle of the NFL which washes away its' own dead participants.

Will Tua & Damar be added to the hundreds of the ever growing list of dead NFL players killed by the sport of football?

Tune into NFL Game Day Morning this Sunday to hear Eisen, Mooch, Irv & Warner breathlessly analyze, debate, breakdown & discuss!

Vontae Davis was a former Pro Bowl linebacker for the Colts, Bills & Dolphins.

Vontae's brother, Vernon, is also a former Pro Bowler as well as a Super Bowl winner.

Vontae was found dead alone inside of his mansion in April 2024 slumped over unconscious inside of his gym at 35.

While there was never a cause of death released to the public, per The Daily Mail, Vontae's ex-wife Meg Harpe, claimed that it was "100% CTE" and that there was definitely more to the story via a text message she sent to the publication.

Vontae's brother, Vernon, confirmed to the media that Vontae never did drugs and was the owner of a holistic wellness spa and had a team of chiropractors and massage & stretch therapists constantly at his mansion.

While Vernon was dismissive of CTE claims telling reporters that there was no way to diagnose that in a living person, Vontae himself admitted in an interview with CNN that he was concerned he had CTE and cited it as one of the reasons for his abrupt retirement from the NFL during halftime of a game.

In the CNN interview, Vontae claimed that he experienced an “out of body, spiritual moment” on the sidelines that led to a profound realization that football no longer aligned with his well being which caused him to abruptly retire from the league in the locker room at halftime.

While no cause of death was released to the public, the police did state there were no signs of a break in or foul play.

However, if we go back about a year prior to Dontae's death, there is a very familiar at this point decline and downward spiral in his personal life which makes me believe he did have CTE.

In January 2023, Dontae Davis was arrested in a DUI incident where he slammed his Tesla into a stationary truck injuring the owner who had been attempting to change a flat tire.

Dontae had just left a night club and was found asleep on the literal side of the road outside of his vehicle by police.

The same year in 2023, Dontae also divorced his wife, Megan Harpe, of eight years.

Additionally, Dontae faced two lawsuits in 2023, one from his father as he was in Dontae's vehicle during the DUI incident and a second from a vendor regarding non-payment issues for one of Dontae's businesses.

We have seen this precipitous decline before in football players suffering from CTE.

Dontae was a 10 year NFL veteran & multi Pro Bowl winner.

Dontae intercepted Tom Brady twice — once while guarding Randy Moss — Peyton Manning & Brett Favre once.

Dontae was a multipreneur who wisely invested his NFL millions into two businesses, a holistic wellness spa & a luxury chauffeur business.

Dontae was also working on a documentary about how he and his brother rose from impoverished backgrounds, with parents who suffered from drug addiction & alcoholism, enduring violence & trauma as they witnessed their uncle shoot their father, to become multi Pro Bowl NFL veterans with Vernon winning a Super Bowl.

Dontae was also committed to holistic wellness and did not even like to take OTC medication and stopped taking Toradol during his time in the league once he researched the long term consequences.

Dontae started his holistic wellness spa because he was committed to helping others heal in a holistic and integrative sense.

Dontae was also unafraid to follow his heart even when faced with enduring the backlash of millions of angry Bills fans demanding to know why he had supposedly "quit on the team".

Imagine you are an NFL player, a veteran who just turned 30 after having your third groin surgery, on a $5 million prove it deal with the Buffalo Bills.

Would you have the courage to walk out during halftime if you had had an epiphany on the sidelines as Vontae said he did?

From Vontae's Instagram post & personal tweet:

”I have been doing what my body has been PROGRAMMED to do”.

Tackling & running drills from Pop Warner to the Pros are Pavlovian whistle blowing conditioning brainwashing exercises of repetitive brutalistic violence!

Decades of tackling & hitting drills that literally brainwash these men as children to commit acts of violence upon one another. Its fucking creepy & dystopian as fuck if you really think about it. It is extremely militaristic but these are kids participating in these violent repetitive brain damaging tackling and hitting drills so it is even more dystopian — 5, 7, 9, 11, even 13 years old — they are legally minors, they are not adults!

They are children!

Why are they endlessly hitting each other in creepy violent militaristic drills with Pavlovian whistle blowing?

How else do you get them to override their bodys natural self defense mechanisms?

How else do you get them to turn off their natural self preservation instincts, go out there and hit somebody!

From Vontae's Instagram post & personal tweet:

“Its more important to me and my family to stop sacrificing myself for this game and to walk away healthy than to continue to embrace the WARRIOR MENTALITY and limp away when its too late”.

Warrior mentality is nothing but the brainwashing I described above.

Vontae simply told Coach McDermott that he was "done", removed his jersey and pads, walked out of the locker room and drove home.

Predictable backlash, personal insults & attacks & unmitigated fury ensued among some of Vontae's former Bills teammates, NFL analysts, team journalists and ofcourse the ever rabid and demanding "fans".

Why did Vontae describe this self-realization to CNN as an "out of body experience"?

Because he woke up from a literal lifetime of brainwashing to commit mindless violent acts since he was a child — tackling & hitting drills normalized in America's brutalistic militaristic culture — very publicly during a game at halftime.

And he had the courage not to suppress his realization & to remove his jersey — the ultimate talisman & almost mystical symbol representing all he had broken his body & bashed his brain for since he was a child in Pop Warner — the NFL team jersey with team logo proudly emblazoned on solid bold bright team colors — decades of brainwashing & Pavlovian conditioning — & he walked out of the stadium a free Black man — there is nothing more dangerous to the NFL and to the white supremacist capitalistic exploitative racist mass incarcerating colonialist AmeriKKKa.

The lifelong brainwashing that started when Vontae was a child had been short-circuited by his own self actualization.

ESPN.com:

“But his mind felt far away — like he was going through the motions in a game he had spent decades playing.”

Vontae sat on the bench on the sidelines then he realized what was happening.

His mind had finally caught up with his body.

Mentally, he was finished.

Vontae felt scared and vulnerable and wasn't sure what to do — all he knew was that he couldn't return to the field. He needed to get away.

“Im done.” Vontae told his defensive coordinator.

He removed his Bills jersey & pads & texted his wife.

“Babe, Im done. Im hanging up my cleats. I dont want to put my body through this anymore.”

Vontae called his brother Vernon who was in the Redskins locker room at halftime.

The brothers never called each other during games so Vernon answered right away.

“Im retired.” Vontae said.

Vernons heart sank. “Are you joking or are you serious?”

“…Im tired.” Vontae replied.

ESPN.com:

Dontae says, in the moment when he realized football was no longer his purpose, he felt overwhelmed but he trusted himself and left the field.

“It was honestly one of the best decisions I've made in my life.”

Dead at 35.

His ex-wife who he divorced last year that he was married to for 8 years said he “100% had CTE” and “there was more to the story” of his death.

No official cause of death was ever released to the public despite a full autopsy being done.

It does not appear that Vontae's brain was ever donated to be tested for CTE despite Vontae himself telling CNN in an interview that he feared he had CTE and it was one of the reasons for his sudden and abrupt retirement from the NFL.

10 years in the NFL. 3 years at Illinois. 4 years in high school. Multiple years in youth tackle football.

As a cornerback, all of those hits, all of those collisions, all of those head impacts, all of that violence adds up.

And, given the fact that he was running two successful businesses, had been married for nearly a decade, had wisely invested his NFL earnings and was extensively traveling before his life began to unravel a little more than a year before he was found dead alone in his mansion...

How many times do we have to see this movie?

Do you honestly think that Vontae Davis didn't die at 35 — just like Ray Lewis' son did at 28 — from the sport of football?

Or do you just not give a damn?

The sport of football with all its attendant spectacle, pageantry, glamour, allure, gloss, shine, breathless anticipation, endless storylines, drama, exhilarating highs, adrenaline rushes and of course the vicarious thrill of the violence along with the constant dehumanization of the players and minimization of the brutality of the sport by every analyst, color commentator, sideline reporter and journalist gives you a license not to give a damn.

The violence is sanitized and Photoshopped for your viewing pleasure and enjoyment.

Don't forget to order a large Papa John's along with your CTE drug overdoses and deaths under 35.

[stories-of-the-sun]

“Humans are naturally vicious and cruel. I’m just revealing their true, beautiful forms,” the villain snarled. Sirens pierced the smoky air as the city burned around them. “Humans desire destruction - they crave it. They can’t survive without it.”

Beautiful, huh? The hero couldn’t help but think that, surrounded by the chaos, there was certainly beauty, a peace in the destruction. There was no pressure as the world crumbled. After all, you couldn't fail in a ruined world. The pressing weight of “normal” had fallen away, leaving those picking up the pieces to metamorphose into something the hero couldn’t name. Not yet. 

“This is their true form?” It was odd. “The world only ended today. Just yesterday, we went to school, church, work, the bank… These people who’ve spent their whole lives without hurting anyone - how can that time possibly be overwritten by one single day?”

The villain erupted in deranged, crazed laughter. “Oh, my. It seems you’ve never - heh - never made a choice - yes, a choice - so unforgivable that the world turns it back on you.” Their face shifted, slowly morphing to a more solemn appearance. Something close to sorrow drifted through them before disappearing.

“No one ever cares about the dirty and the unwanted. The world has drowned people in ‘one single day.’ Innocent or not.”

A crash boomed. 

“Every maniac now fighting to survive has always been exquisitely savage and cruel. They’ve always had the luxury to close their eyes and shut their ears. They’ve never had to dirty their own hands because they let others do it for them.” The villain crept closer, crunching a fallen phone with a resounding crack. A calloused and red hand smeared blood and dirt against the hero’s unflinching cheek while the villain’s eyes gleamed depravedly. 

Hot breath tickled the hero’s ear, their stomach contracting with nausea, while the villain’s hand continued to trace their cheek. “My only question now is how much more blood you have on your hands than me. How many people died because of you? Because you believe in the all-seeing justice they told you about to keep you muzzled and obedient? How does the good little guard dog feel knowing about the house of lies it sleeps in?”

The hero, strangely tranquil and undisturbed through their vague conversation, finally reacted, resoundingly slapping the villain’s hand away. They stepped back and shuddered with disgust. Their voice became tinged with fear. “I haven’t killed anyone. I’m not like you.”

“Ah…” The villain’s hand hung in the air. Their smirk only grew wider at their aversion. “No, you’ve never noticed the horrors you’ve caused. There is a difference.”

[hypnoticauthoress]

Looking respectfully?

Oh my dear

Darling insect

That's not what I want

I want you to look

However you feel

Stare lasciviousy

Gaze depravedly

Watch lustfully

Give in to your desires

Don't hold them back

For something silly

Like respect

Be a wanton slut for me

You want to~

[netherfeildren]

Hi! I just finished ch1 of SWITBOSH and………holy shit. Your writing is so consistently, jaw-droppingly gorgeous. I originally came to your page in search of general smut, yet I’ve repeatedly found catharsis and humor and some of the most well-written work I’ve ever come across. (The smut is fucking delectable, too, of course.) Because of your work, I’ve been able to articulate feelings that I hadn’t been able to before. I’ve felt understood and not alone. I didn’t expect this to come from depravedly scouring Ao3, but I’m so overwhelmingly grateful that it did. Thank you for sharing your work. You’re incredible🫶 I’m off to go binge-read the rest of that series🏃‍♂️

hello sweet! thank you so much for saying this you're way too kind 💗💗💗💗 haha I seem to have some sort of inability to just write some good old porn without plot unfortunately. I also seem entirely incapable of writing something non angsty or fun and light hearted but trust that I'm trying to work on this! I'm so glad you've found us here and that it's been comforting to you in any way, and I hope you enjoy the story!