#i am so weak for men in green pants

[attapullman]

HOW HAVE I NEVER SEEN THIS PHOTO?! I HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE ALL OVER AGAIN 🫠

[starofthesea7]

König~Worship the King

Your eyes traced the huge mass of muscle in front of you. Fresh from the field, he looked exhausted, primal- his canvas pants still splattered with mud and god knows what else. Arms shiny with sweat and rain, leg bouncing absentmindedly, his head was still a void, swimming with pictures of death and devastation. His eyes were focused on a bowl of stew, dwarfed by his huge, muscled hands. Pale fingers against white ceramic.

‘You can take the mask off to eat your food, I have to clean up your face anyway. In fact I should look at that first.” Your voice was soft, hesitant. Afraid of startling him, even though little could do so.

Dark fabric folded as he shook his head gently. “After. I don’t want it to…” he searched for the word in English, “to scare you. Yet” His voice was rough and tired, laced thickly with an accent, german. Your heart twinged at his words.

“You couldn’t scare me.” You attempted a reassuring smile. König. King. A very fitting name for the enigma in front of you, and yet in some ways not fitting at all. True he was imposing. Large. Stately. Yet he was gentle, anxious, even, when he was in close proximity to others. Under scrutiny. He was anxious when it came to people, most of all you. He was good at hiding it though, to you it seemed an aloofness, perhaps even a polite disinterest, that he felt towards you. A simple nod in greeting as he passed you was the most you could hope to receive.

Now you stood in between his enormous thighs which he’d spread just far enough apart to avoid grazing yours, the air between them thick with tension. You rolled up his dark sleeve, doing your best to ignore the rippling muscle beneath. They way it flexed which each ascent of his spoon, before it disappeared underneath black cloth, then reappeared, empty. He barely flinched as you dabbed an alcohol pad across the gaping wound on his shoulder. Blood glistened carmine.

Oxymoron was a more fitting name, you thought. Perhaps it was too long for a nickname. He truly was a paradox, though. So colossal, yet reserved. So immense yet quiet, even gentle. He was a man of few words. A wave waiting to crash, or a volcano waiting to erupt.

Your voice broke the silence, surprising you both. It felt small. “Feel okay?” He was nervous, although you couldn’t see it, underneath the mask. He wasn’t really afraid of you, more afraid of hurting you, or scaring you. With his weight. His scars, his is strength.

His eyes raised to meet yours. Although he was sitting, they were level with your own. A cold, pale olive green. “Ja. Thank you. I am sorry for waking you for this little scratch.” When you’d gotten a call that he’d needed a small patch job, admittedly you’d jumped at the chance to see him. You’d been drawn to the Austrian giant since you’d arrived a month ago. You liked his presence, it was safe, a shield to all else. Nothing could touch you with him there. No amount of horny jeering men, or loaded guns.

“It’s not a just scratch, König, its a big gash. And I haven’t even gotten to your face yet. Plus, I couldn’t sleep anyway, I’m happy to do it.” You rambled, feeling the burn of his eyes on yours, studying your face as you concentrated, threading a sterile needle. You stepped forward, into him, bumping his leg. He smelled like earth, and motor oil. Faintly of cigarettes and metallic blood. The heady odour was thick, collocating with the rubbing alcohol of your sterile office.

“Deep breath.” You felt silly, instructing a man who’d murdered countless men in the past week to do a breathing excersise, but he obeyed, the soft, raspy sound making your knees weak, and your imagination run wild. You blinked and regained focus, before puncturing the skin. His eyes fixed on your face, unwavering. You counted the stitches. Eleven, black and neat, in a row. “Aaand…done.” You cut the thread. “And not even a flinch.” You smiled at him, and his eyes crinkled, barely.

You gently rubbed it with ointment and wiped your hands on a towel, blood staining it crimson. You noticed his thighs now resting against yours. They were warm, and dirt from them stained your kaki pants but your hardly cared. “Ok. Ready for the mask?” You felt nervous, more nervous than he looked. It felt monumental, an enigma becoming real, smoke condensing into man.

You’d thought about what he looked like, but only in patches, certain features imagined while the rest of the picture was more of a blurred haze. Pale skin and light eyes. Dark or light hair? A sharp jaw or weak and soft? You couldn’t really imagine him being ugly, and truly, you felt you’d be attracted to him regardless, like opposite poles of a magnet. North and south. Dark and light, soft and hard.

He cleared his throat, and set the empty bowl down beside him. His eyes held yours vehemently, and large hands raised black cloth, revealing a pale, broad column of neck, a white scar gracing one side. You wanted to graze it with your lips. His lips were split, bitten and red. And inviting. A glint of teeth and a jaw, sharp with a whisper of stubble. The cloth clung to a splatter of blood and small cuts now integrated with old scars, and a few pieces of shrapnel that traveled up to a deep, glistening slice. Caked blood ran down his temple. His nose was sharp and slightly crooked, veering to the right in an endearing way, as if it had been broken when he was a child.

Then, his eyes, deep set and soft, framed with long lashes and crowned with sharp brows, one interrupted by a large, aged scar. Finally, hair, light, light brown, almost blonde, with a tinge of red, tumbled out. It was tied back with an elastic, but not long, as if he was in need of a trim, shorter pieces falling across his forehead. His head tilted back as he looked at you, silently, daring you to react to his intimate sign of trust.

You breathed out. It wasn’t what you had expected. His face was, interesting. Attractive. Younger than you’d imagined. A sharp canine pressed into his lip. You let out a breath, and raised a hand to his jaw, feeling it clench beneath your fingers, tilting his face up towards artificial light. His lips parted, adams apple bobbing. “You should’ve let me do your face first.”

“Sorry.” His voice was soft, ragged.

You reached for a pair of pointed tweezers and began removing each piece of shrapnel from his face. The night was quiet, save for for soft breaths. His was hot against your cheek. “König.” Chunks of metal and stone clanged into a small aluminum bowl. He hummed in response.

“You could never scare me.”

He smiled softly at you, slightly crooked.

Without meaning to, your thumb stroked the soft skin of his jaw. His legs tightened against you, barely, but your heart quickened against your ribcage.

Again, you soaked the wounds in alcohol. You could tell it stung. His fingers began absentmindedly drumming against your hip, leaving hot tingles in their wake. You moved to the cut on his lip, he hissed quietly as you made contact with the cotton pad. Your eyes were focused, pupils blown wide as you stared at his lips. His hot tongue peeking out from behind pink bloodied skin.

Your voice was quiet, distant, “You have a pretty bad split lip, I’m gonna put a little stitch in it.”

He swallowed hoarsely, “Okay.”

You were close, so close to him, breaths mingling in the hot air. His scent enveloped you. He enveloped you. You weren’t particularly small, but to him you were. Fragile. The needle ruptured his lip and his hand gripped at your waist, heavy and large. You leaned into him, lower stomach barely grazing the split of his pants. He shifted in thick canvas.

Your hand shifted, cupping his jaw as you cut the thread. His eyes were heavy with fatigue, and something else. You looked at each other with neediness, both in awe of how the other contained all that they could ever want- him to satiate your emptiness, you to soothe his aching burn. A month of passing glances and unsaid words threatened to morph into action; spurred on by the arousal of seclusion and stagnation after the high of adrenaline, the heady scent of blood, metal, alcohol.

You leaned in and felt his hand tighten against you hip, You were inches from him, the air between you buzzed as opposites attracted, pulled you towards him. His mouth widened as he leaned into you. Your soft, plush lips grazed his, barely, and he pulled you into him, emitting a soft sound. Mouths opened wide with need. He was metal, cigarettes and gasoline, the taste and smell making you unsteady, faint. You gripped his shirt tightly, his mass keeping you from falling, or perhaps from floating away.

Deft, strong fingers found the back of your head. Scalp prickling as he pulled at your hair. You were slick.

He groaned slightly into your mouth, and your hands found his hair, fisting it free from the elastic band, copper locks brushing your forehead, stubble brash against your reddening cheeks.

His large warm hand traced from your hip down, raising your leg to straddle his thigh. Hot, hard muscle against your softness. You let out an involuntary airy moan as the seam of your jeans jabbed into your clit, cunt clenching around nothing, deprived and empty.

You lifted your other leg to straddle him fully, clothed cunt contracting at the friction against pelvis, you could feel him, large, hard, heavy and confined. It made you hot with need. You pulled back to stare at him, pupils blown, lips puffy. His hips bucked up into you, searching for friction and release, his brows furrowed. Colossal hands found your waist beneath your shirt, opposite fingers almost touching around your circumference. His fingers were calloused and rough. Feeling his hot skin against yours made you reel with thoughts of at the way he dwarfed you, dominated you with the simplest of actions. The fact that he could fill your emptiness, stretch you to the brink, overwhelm you, crush you- was inebriating.

“I-” he searched for the right words, “I want you. Ich brauche dich.” You smiled at his mother tongue appearing, as it often did in states of intoxication.

You pressed your mouth to his neck, with an open mouthed kiss, feeling the bump of his scar as he swallowed, and looked up at him through wet lashes. Grinding your hips against him, making him groan, cock twitching, hyper sensitive from months of neglect. You maundered, “Let me make you feel good, König.” Your voice was airy and laced with fervour. His eyes were glassy and lidded as he looked down at you, hair falling across his forehead, glistening with sweat. His head swam, the situation feeling far to good to be true, an intoxicated dream or adrenaline spurred hallucination. His blunt fingernails clutched at your waist harshly, leaving half moons in their wake.

Your eyes flickered to a stain of precum darkening the crotch of his thick pants as you rose to your feet, his hands gripped his thighs in restraint, watching you in anticipation. Then, you knelt to the ground to worship your king.

[gatorbites-imagines]

I saw your Hal hcs post and had a smut idea.

In the post, you mentioned he likes weighted blankets. Could you do a smut post (if you feel up for it) of sub Hal and Top reader fucking under a weighted blanket?

Probably spoon fucking, where Hal and Reader is fully naked under the weighted blanket. Them both having the day off after a really rough mission, so they have been having slow sex for awhile.

The comfy compression of the blanket, mixed with edging/ overstimulating him through really long rounds and being held so closely by the reader with so much praise making his him overwhelmed(positive) and head fuzzy.

If you do I would really appreciate it.

-🦊

Hal Jordan x male reader

I am a weak man, I see Hal Jordan, I must write 🙇. Reader is also a blue lantern cuz I love that shit.

Hal whined breathlessly as (Y/N) released the careful grip he had had on his cock, Hals hips twitching forwards as if searching for any kind of stimulation. The heavy blanket over the two men along with (Y/N)s warm body against his back left Hal feeling slightly disorientated and overheated, but in a good way.

He was panting softly as he reached back, trying his best to find a grip on (Y/N)s torso, Hals head pressing back against the other mans neck. Hals body ached after a long mission, one that (Y/N) hadn’t been on, so the blue lantern had had all the time of the world to himself. (Y/N) had greeted Hal at the door and welcomed him home with a heated kiss, his hands running up and down Hal’s torso as if he had forgotten how the other man felt in the time he was gone.

They had bathed together, eaten a good meal and had crawled into bed where (Y/N) had draped Hals favorited weighted blanket over them. They hadn’t gotten dressed after showering and had enjoyed their meal completely naked, comfortable with each other. It had started with just cuddling, (Y/N) spooning against Hals back, kissing at the brunette’s neck and shoulders as he ran his hand up and down Hal’s torso.

Hal had reached back and gripping onto (Y/N)s hair, the soft loving touched sending heat down the green lanterns spine. They had cuddled and petted each other for an unknown amount of time, the feeling of his partners half hard cock against his ass making Hal feel even warmer. When (Y/N) finally wrapped his hand around Hal’s length, the green lantern had gasped, his hips immediately jolting forwards into the touch.

(Y/N) had drawn it out, barely closing his hand into a fist and moving it slowly as he pressed wet kisses against Hal’s skin, murmuring love filled words as Hal was worked oh so slowly closer to the edge. The feeling started all the way from his toes and crawled its way all the way to the top of his head, Hals noises growing more needy and whiney as he toed the edge.

And just as he was about to finish, (Y/N)s hands left his length, returning to their past job or running up and down his torso as if he hadn’t ever stopped. This process repeated itself over and over, (Y/N) bringing Hal close to the edge before removing his hands at just the last moment. Hal couldn’t keep his back from arching as he thrust his hips forwards, his length leaving a wet spot on the bed under them from all the precum that was leaving him.

One of (Y/N)s arms wound around his chest, bringing Hal close to him again, pressed chest against back, their hips meeting and making it obvious (Y/N) was just as effected as Hal. The noise that left Hal as (Y/N)s other hand came up and started pinching and twisting his nipple sounded almost like he was dying, the noise coming from deep in Hals chest as his eyes grew foggy and wet, a tear running down his cheek as his cock throbbed.

The heavy blanket made movement a little more difficult and trapped the heat their bodies produced, making it feel like they were boiling as (Y/N) softly rolled his hips against Hal’s ass. The kisses the blue lantern pressed against the green lanterns felt like a scolding hot brand, the action making Hal gasp as his hips jolted every time the heavy length of his partners cock dragged between his cheeks.

At some point Hal had lost most control of his mouth, noises and words leaving him with little rhyme or reason, his head growing foggy and silent in a way it hadn’t been the entire time he had been on his mission with the other green lanterns. As if he had felt Hal enter that warm foggy mindset, (Y/N) leant in a pressed a kiss to Hals jaw, muttering “there’s my sweet boy” as Hal fell further into the fuzzy warmth, sinking deeper into (Y/N)s arms.

When (Y/N)s hand left his nipples and returned to his length, Hal released a loud keen as he babbled softly, his voice breathy as he tried to breathe. He had little control of his hips as (Y/N)s hand grew slick with all the precum, the wet noises almost unnoticeable under the heavy blanket.

Hal couldn’t control the way his hips twitched and jolted, both grinding back against the hard length of his partner and forwards into the warm wet grip. His orgasm grew oh so slowly, boiling right under his skin and stretching all the way to his fingertips. This time when Hal grew close to the edge (Y/N) let him fall over it, shushing his lover and praising the green lantern as he wailed out his orgasm.

Hals voice filled the room as he came, his eyes clenched tightly shut as he filled (Y/N)s palm with his spend. The brunette struggled to catch his breath, on instinct alone grinding back against his partner who had started rolling his hips with more purpose. When Hal felt and heard (Y/N) finish he seemed to take that last step into that fuzzy headspace, the green lantern floating somewhere far away as he was held by his lover.

He came to a while later, now cleaned up with clean bedsheets and a new weighted blanket. They were still spooning and still naked, but (Y/N) had cleaned them up so they could cuddle more comfortably. The exhaustion of the day seemed to hit Hal like a truck, so with some struggle he turned over and tucked himself under (Y/N)s chin, sighing as the other man wrapped his arms around him. Feeling (Y/N) kiss his forehead Hal dozed off, the warm embraces of sleep and of his lover making him feel more relaxed than he had in a long time.

[dandelion-blues]

#3 PJO One-shot

A Test of Madness

Now on Ao3

Broken glass. Shards embedded in my skin. Coppery blood marked my skin, yet I gripped the shards harder, and it cut deeper into my palm. I wanted to feel pain. I wanted to feel alive. To feel my heart pumping and ignore that golden tint in my blood. To ignore the sea and ground and sky humming their chaotic tune for me to leave natural disasters in my wake, to scream and shout out all my frustrations.

Breath in…

Breath out…

Everything is fine. I'm Percy fucking Jackson, I can't afford to have a breakdown right now. I need to be on my best behavior, so the gods don't have an excuse to kill me. I need to be strong, I have to be the one to fulfill the prophecy, so Nico can live. I-I can't afford to be vulnerable, when could I ever be?

Everything is fine. I am 14 and ½ years old, and I just held up the sky last week, and the gods voted to kill me. Everything is fantastic!

Just breathe. Why is my vision blurry? Oh, I realize, as I taste salt on my lips, I'm crying. I start sobbing. Why am I crying? I grip the shard in my hand harder. The pain is stabbing, biting, and I bleed more.

Then, panic shoots through my veins. I don’t want this. I don't want to hurt anymore. Why am I doing this? I drop the shard from my hand. It clatters and breaks on the floor.

My knees fall to the floor as if the weight of the world is on my shoulders again. The broken pieces of the mirror dig into my pants, but all I feel is the overwhelming fear and hopelessness as I sob. My breath comes in shuttering gasps, and I cry and sob for the first time since I was twelve and thought I lost my mom.

Men can’t cry, shut up I told myself.

Aw, looks like brain boy is a coward too, no I’m not. I’m not! Still, the smell of rancid trash and beer bottles hit my nose, and the fear and nausea instantly came to me.

There was a purple haze in the air.

My tan skin became pale, and my green eyes sickly. Now I could only see as Smelly Gabe leered over me.

“Please no!” I screamed, “I’m sorry!”

I sobbed and awaited my beating. There was nothing I could do. Even as the son of Poseidon with all these powers, I was powerless. I was weak, useless trash, just like I’ve always been.

I felt his meaty hands grab me, I felt them on my throat. Black spots filled my vision, and I couldn’t breathe.

I thrashed around, choking and desperately trying to get some air. I wanted to live. I needed to. I couldn’t just leave the prophecy to Nico; he is only a little kid.

I grabbed onto Gabe’s fingers around my throat, and I pulled hard. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, and I remembered the minotaur’s horn in my hand — snap.

Gabe screamed in rage and pain, his fingers bent in broken and purpling.

“You little monster!” Gabe screamed, frothing from the mouth, “I’m going to kill you!”

I was still gasping for air, kneeling on the ground, but I looked at Gabe, my green eyes dark as the deepest seas and I said, my voice but a whisper but still it echoed around, “No you aren’t.”

I gritted his teeth and closed my eyes, focusing on air and the water around me.

“Go away!” I pushed my powers through. Water in the air and from the cabin came in, washing the blood from my skin and healing my mind and body. I shouted now with renewed energy, “You aren’t real!”

The haze cleared away from me, and I saw there was no one in the cabin with me.

Still, the leftover essence permeated the air, and I would be hard pressed to not recognize it, and I seethed, “Dionysus.”

The god shimmered in the air in a purple haze and soon became flesh before me, and I didn’t recognize him at first. He wore a purple chiton instead of leopard print and was slim and fit. He looks pretty and has purple silky hair that curls around golden leaves in his hair. Still what truly gave him away that this was Dionysus was that he drawled in his usual tone, even if his voice was clearer and less nasally, “Yes, Peter Johnson.”

I glared at the god, and he smirked amused. I snarled, “Why did you do this?!”

Dionysus rolled his purple eyes, “I’m the god of madness, and well who am I not to encourage someone’s descent into madness.”

Still, I saw the way the god wouldn’t meet my eyes, as if he was ashamed.

“That isn’t it.” I said.

Anger filled Dionysus eye’s and he glared at me but he saw the damage in my eyes. The way I put on a brave face, but was still trying to hide my fear — the way the god always reminded me of my worst fears of alcohol and madness.

Dionysus gritted his teeth, still he answered in a monotone voice, “It was a test set up by the King to see if you would fall into madness and thus could be killed off.”

I sat there numbly, blood pounding in my ears. How dare he?! How dare the King do that? After everything I’ve done for them, even after I won the vote to spare my life! Zeus truly is a dictator, isn’t he?! He wants to kill a 14-year-old just because he’s afraid.

Are the gods even worth saving? Well, Kronos sure isn’t any better.

I sigh still seething, I’ve always done this for the demigods anyways. What’s one more reason to hate the gods?

Still, I glance up at the camp director who is once again avoiding my eyes. I breathe in deeply and ask, “And what about you? Why’d you agree to do this?”

Dionysus clenches his fists, still avoiding my gaze, “You cannot avoid an order from the King, lest you risk unimaginable punishment.”

So that’s it, isn’t it?

I start laughing, hysterically. Tears rolling down my face as I laugh so much, I wheeze.

Dionysus stands there shocked, double checking that he isn’t using his domain once again on the boy.

Percy looks at Dionysus, “We are both just scared of our father figures, aren’t we?”

Dionysus' eyes open wide and shock, and anger starts to light his purple eyes, but he deflates when he sees the sincerity in Percy’s eyes.

Dionysus sighs, “Yes, I guess we are.” And Dionysus looks away pained, “The only difference is you beat yours and he’s not some immortal that can just come back.”

Percy stands up on shaky limbs and the god lets him approach, “I know that we don’t get along, but I wouldn’t be Sally Jackson’s son if I didn’t reach out to help.”

Dionysus snorts, “I guess that’s why you got on my nerves by not acting like I always expected heroes to act. You’re not really Poseidon’s son, the way you are your mortal mother’s are you?”

Then, Dionysus' visage changes back to looking like a trailer park cherub, “Also, Peter Johnson. You have a week of stable cleaning to do because you broke your mirror.”

My mouth hangs open in shock and I yell at Dionysus as he leaves, “No fair!”

The god just laughs back.

I just smile back. Perhaps things won’t be so bad, but I have a feeling that worse things are yet to come, but I’ll get through them anyways, just as I always do.

Notes:

I usually don't write in first person, but I thought I'd try it here.

I also feel like Dionysus is deeply misunderstood as well. Yes, he is a flawed character, but the chance for growth is there. Percy isn't Theseus, just as Dionysus isn't Gabe.

First - Previous - Next PJO One-shot

[grand-theft-carbohydrates]

-- to be a hero in chaotic times, is to be--

Unscrupulous. That was what they called him. The word was uttered in low voices. Whispered behind his back. Muffled behind cupped hands.

Cao Cao had been a boy when he first heard that word direct at him. Some serving girls had been gossiping and they clearly thought he was too young to understand. But he did, he'd always had a knack for words even while in split-pants. He doesn't remember being angry, but he does remember hiding a pair of his Lady Mother's earrings under their pillows, and watching the girls getting flogged until they were bloody.

It didn't put an end to the whispers, though. The word followed him into adulthood, like a loyal old hound trotting at his heels. He heard it from his family. His colleagues. So-called wise men who ought to know such things. He had never cared enough to contradict them—but the oversimplification had always annoyed him. Cao Cao did have scruples. Plenty of them, in fact. But unlike other people, he had never let them distract him from his goals. 

The seven-star dagger was in his hand. The hilt was so warm it felt almost alive, a consequence of being hidden so close to his skin. The watered-steel gleamed. Before him, Dong Zhuo lay on the couch, snoring loudly.

An unscrupulous man would relish the kill. His heart would race with excitement, instead of beating slowly and solemnly in his chest. An unscrupulous man would look upon Dong Zhuo's face and see only a thief and murderer. He would not remember all the kind words the Prime Minister had said to him, the generous favours he had performed, or the earnest, beaming pride he had taken in Cao Cao’s intelligence. 

Old man, you are full of contradictions. Cao Cao thought to himself, as he slowly raised the murder weapon. You have slaughtered innocents yet you are a father to your men. You are a usurper clinging to a stolen throne. You once turned down a huge promotion because you didn’t want to leave your loyal soldiers behind. Dong Zhuo, the amiable, power-drunk madman, who kills on a whim and befriends anyone he meets, be they barbarians or the grandsons of court eunuchs. It doesn't matter where they come from, only what they can do.

That makes two of us, doesn't it? Because Cao Mengde is equally hard to pin down. Fourteen years ago, when he was just a young, green district commander, he would have had Today's Cao Mengde tied up and flogged at his own whipping-post. Today, he will slit your throat and watch you bleed out without batting an eye.

Perhaps the whispers are true, I am what they say I am. A more scrupulous man would look back upon your kindness, and their hand would hesitate. Their heart would be moved. I do look back on it, but my hand does not hesitate. It does not even shake. My loyalty is for the Great Han, not for you. Should this knife fail to strike true, thousands more people will die and their blood will be a stain on my honour. 

The world has enough weak, moralising fools. Men who are too squeamish to dirty their hands and fret over what the poets will write about their dusty, old bones. They would rather consign others to a lifetime of suffering because they care more about getting a good nights sleep than doing what is necessary. I am not one of those men. Extract #2

Cao Cao had learned from a young age that he could not afford to be honest with people, not unless he wanted to end up as a friendless pariah. People tended to get upset if he made an off-colour comment that was a little too callous, or suggested a plan that was a little too underhanded.

His Lord Uncle had been disturbed by it. His Lord Father had sighed and tugged his beard. Dong Zhuo was the only one who did not blanch at his way of thinking. He would clap Cao Cao on the back with enough force to stun a pack-mule and guffaw mightily at his 'wonderfully straight-forward' mind. The man was a brute, to be sure, but it was a relief to be honest with someone for once, to drop the exhausting facade and speak his mind. To not coat every word in sugary little euphemisms, least he upset someone's delicate constitution. 

There was no shortage of greedy, self-serving men in Luoyang. It was practically a requirement for politics. Even so, Cao Cao had never fit in at court, even before he had been branded as Dong Zhuo's lapdog. His mind took strange, dark turns that made even the most conniving Cabinet Minister nervous. On more than one occasion, Cao Cao would try to speak frankly, and be met with appalled silence. His colleges would stare at him like he had just drop-kicked a baby, instead of suggesting a perfectly reasonable solution that everyone was probably already thinking.

It didn't bother him. The side-ways glances, the whispers that made the back of his neck tingle—No. He was just annoyed to be caught out of the loop. Scorn rolled off his back, but Cao Mengde hated feeling ignorant. Sometimes it seemed like there was a secret book out there, detailing what people should, or should not be offended by, and everyone else had read it except him. 

Perhaps if he could get his hands on that book, it would fix him. It would slot into him like a missing piece. Unlock some hidden door in his mind, and he would finally be let into that strange room he'd been locked out of for all his life.

--Oh, who was he kidding? If such a book did exist, it was no doubt a pile of idiotic, contradictory drivel. Not even worth the bamboo it was written on.

"Right" and "wrong" was as fickle as the winds, and worth as much as as breaking wind. Killing soldiers was fine. Killing civilians was wrong. It made no damn sense to Cao Cao. Soldiers were drafted from the civilian population. Soldiers ate the crops planted by civilians. Used the weapons forged by civilians. Were protected by the walls, moats and trenches built by civillians.

Cao Cao had his own people to defend. His own helpless populace of women, children and the elderly. He had his own loyal men to lead. The only way to keep them safe was to utterly crush their enemies and break their spirits. Burn their cities to the ground. Raze their farms and lay waste to anyone who dared to resisted him. Fear was armour. Fear could strike harder and reach further than any onager. It swept across the land more quickly than wildfire or plague or flood. It passed through walls and unmanned the bravest of heros.

Fear is how a you achieve security.

Fear is how you achieve peace.

--------------- Notes:

I wrote this a while back to get a grasp on cao cao's voice for my fic. as you can see, I ended up going with a different character interpretation, but I thought this would be a fun thing to share! I'm trying to replicate the feeling of being tugged around when i read san guo. One minute you feel kinda bad for the guy, who is in many ways a product of his time, next minute you're being plunged head-first into another atrocity.

[sparkly-sediment]

Clay Puppington has a dumpington

If this is brought up at a job interview years later I will have to brace myself and hold accountability for this horrendous shit like a real woman.

For now, literature forgoing the scriptures

ahh omg tw everything wrong with clay

We already know he says slurs

Horribly misogynistic, ignorant, and the root of it all isn’t a genuine incompetence. This is no mere 1950’s self destructive alcohol; he’s self aware

Only breeds more hatred of himself, which festers and seeps into everyone. Clay copes by inflicting what he thinks he deserves on others

Average continuation of generational trauma cycle but this round has a gay boy name clay and hoo boy does he not like that

Obviously married to Bloberta, obviously didn’t marry out of love or anything. He had an idea of what a marriage was, but 50’s knowledge of empathetic humanity + fear of judgement and god+ spiraling alcoholism+ Bloberta doesn’t make for a perfect union!

Within it all he knew he was discontent with his marriage for reasons outside of it being really shitty. The good ol repression had made his feelings towards others unrecognizable

Can’t tell if it’s platonic or romantic? Befriend the men and sexually resent the women!

Tried to compensate his attraction to men with objectification of women. Men are equals to him. But women are these disgusting creatures that bind to him and glue him into a life with kids he doesn’t know how to love or raise and to the role of a husband he doesn’t want to be

If Clay was alone, though, then the world would see him for the weak man he is. The world would know he was unlovable and he wasn’t worth it

Obvi has the thing with Daniel but refuses to really commit because 1( m/m in moralton statesota?? bffr and 2( he committed to his wife and now he fucking hates his life

LETS BE REAL DANIEL GROOMED TF OUTTA CLAY

Like ok, he is obsessed with Clay. There is a difference between obsession and getting a broken man drunk before sliding your hand in his pants

The reason Clay and Daniel are a thing is the lack of options and Daniel being manipulative. And while being a more satisfying option to Clay, Daniel still provides the unhealthy relationship energy Clay is used to. It may be a man, but the toxicity is familiar and seemingly normal. Clay feels safe with the tension even if he hurts from it

Alcoholism runs in his family. He didn’t drink until meeting Bloberta because he saw how his father did with it. But if it was a fun and normal thing that a woman liked him for?

Got married, got addicted 😜 who needs to address their raging unwell when that scotch burns so good

Self harm type things occasionally. He knows he’ll have a horrific hangover, but he deserves it. He doesn’t get to be “happy” (drunk) without consequences

Headcanon he had really bad explosive fiery shits after nature. Spurting diarrhea. He drank isopropyl alcohol and lived, his asshole was melting ok. He wheeled Orel inside the house and left him at the entryway for Bloberta to get bc he had to shit

“Foul smells attract the devil” no wonder Daniel was into him bc goddamn

Shapey and Blockey (doe ass names btw feel so ridiculous typing that) (because I am) crying in the storage room from the smell. Can’t even see the vacuum through the green fog

More that could be written but kittens do need their rest. Will be back for him soon, may write brutalized angst one day

Takes a special type of shitbag to wear a robe like that. Not to mention the crimes and abuse. Poopy baby, peace ✌🏻

[letstalkaboutit100]

Let's talk about... my moods pt 1

it's funny because I really am alot like the characters I say are my moods. I'm not actually all happy and preppy as I sound on here. I actually hate all that stuff lol. If you knew me in real life you would know I'm actually the darkest person you'll meet lol. But anyway, back to my moods. Example A: Megra. The queen. The OG. I'm alot like her. The sass. Hating men. But the part I wanted to talk about was the WEAK ANKLES! I have trash, but weirdly flexible ankles. To start this story off, we had a fire drill in my biology class and as we were walking down the hill and my ankle being the little shit it is started to wiggle and look so weird that I literally wiggle my way down to ground and fell. Now by mint green sweat pants are stained. so yeah. Laugh among yourself's.

[silver-tooth-the-panther]

I have a question that has bugged me.

How would your Half-Demon Tanjiro! AU react to my Muzan Au?

While I am here, can I request some Zohakuten noms with my oc: Kiriku?

He is a harpy type of demon, and is more bird like. His personality is strict, and hates it when weak people are being hurt/ picked on.

Take your time!

(Here’s your fic! Sorry it took a while, but I’m dealing with a lot of personal stuff. As for your question, the half demons would definitely be surprised by your AU. Tanjiro and the Hashiras would probably be incredibly protective and quick to fight until they proved to them that they weren’t a threat. The demons though would probably be really scared. They just don’t want to go through what Muzan put them through again. This fic takes place in the modern era and Zohakuten looks like an adult.)

Traveling Within a Harpy

(A Zohakuten Vore Fanfic)

Warnings: some blood, rescue, soft vore

“Damn it! How the hell did this happen?” Zohakuten growled angrily as he ran through the forest. He was sent on a patrolling mission with Rengoku’s team. Nothing too abnormal. However, things changed when Giyuu saw a woman, covered in blood, stumble out of an abandoned warehouse.

Then, a group of men burst through the doors, grabbing her and telling her to get back inside. The team couldn’t just stand there, so they immediately took action. The clones formed Zohakuten and decided to come out from the back where the forest was. Everyone else approached from the front.

The team was quick and they burst through the warehouse walls. They found the group of men tying the woman to a chair. They looked shocked and a bit scared when they saw the group of half demons. Luckily, it took barely any time to get those thugs to the ground. Rengoku agreed to take the injured woman to a hospital while the others stayed and cleaned up.

Unfortunately, one of the thugs wasn’t fully unconscious. He immediately made a sprint towards the hole in the back wall. “Hey! Get back here!” Zohakuten gave chase to the thug. He chased him all the way to the heart of the forest until the thug collapsed from exhaustion. “Finally gotcha!” Zohakuten panted as he kicked the thug. “Monsters like you don’t deserve to live.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” A strange masculine voice called out from above him. “What the- Who are you?!” Zohakuten turned his head to face the strange voice. There he saw a large being flying in the moonlight.

The being had long black hair and sharp, green eyes. Most of his chest was covered in a white bandage and there seemed to be some jewelry around the top of his head. The strangest part about him were his magenta wings and bird-like legs. “I’m Kiriku. The Harpy demon.” He said in a calm voice.

Kiriku gently landed in front of Zohakuten and the thug. Although Zohakuten’s appearance has matured, he still was incredibly short. So the harpy towered over him. “You must be this world’s version of Zohakuten.” Kiriku purred as he slowly approached the small demon.

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Zohakuten growled, stepping back. He didn’t want the demon to know that he was intimidated. “No need to worry, dear. I’m not going to hurt you.” Kiriku smiled at him before walking over to the unconscious thug. “I can merely travel to different universes. That’s why I know your name, but I don’t know much else about you.” The harpy nudged the thug with his talon.

“That must be why Lord Tanjiro hasn’t converted him yet.” Zohakuten mumbled to himself. Kiriku perked his head up. “I’m guessing this man was doing something terrible. I smell blood on him and it’s not his.” Zohakuten nodded. “Yeah. My team and I saved a poor girl from his gang’s grasp.”

Kiriku’s eyes glimmered with interest. “Really? You saved someone?” His voice was filled with wonder and curiosity, not sarcasm. Zohakuten nodded once more. “We demons don’t kill anybody anymore. We are now actually referred to as The Dark Angels or Half Demons.”

“I see.” Kiriku purred with interest. “Things certainly have changed since I was last here.” He gazed up at the stars, fondly. “Well I better get going. I don’t want my team to worry about me.” Zohakuten turned to leave, but his knees buckled and gave way.

“Oof!” He yelped as he hit the ground. Kiriku sprang to his feet and went to Zohakuten’s side. “Are you alright?” He asked calmly with a hint of concern. “I’m fine. Just tired is all.” Zohakuten tried to get up again, but his legs were simply too tired. “God damn it!” Zohakuten growled.

“Here, I can help you.” Kiriku spread out one of his wings to help Zohakuten up. “I can take you back.” Zohakuten grabbed the wing and stood up. “How do you plan on doing that?” Zohakuten grunted. Kiriku chuckled nervously and fiddled with his feathers. “Ever heard of pouching?”

Zohakuten’s eyes widened. “Yes. I have, but why would you want to pouch me?” Kiriku gave him a soft smile. “I just want to make sure that you get home safely.” Zohakuten furrowed his brow in disbelief. “Why should I trust you?” The harpy continued to fiddle with his wings. “Do I smell untrustworthy?”

“No..” Zohakuten sighed. “Fine, but you will let me out when I get back.” Kiriku chirped happily. “Deal!” Before Zohakuten could say another word, his head and shoulders were trapped inside the harpy’s jaws. “Not so fast!” Zohakuten struggled out of surprise, but quickly stopped himself. He felt the harpy pick his body up off the ground and tilt his head back.

Zohakuten then entered the demon’s throat. He grumbled to himself as he was carried down by the warm and soft tube. The demon’s heartbeat became louder and louder with every swallow. It didn’t take long for Zohakuten to reach the harpy’s stomach.

The warm pouch-like organ held the small demon gently. The walls moved with every breath the harpy took and the sound of his heartbeat came from all around him. “Are you okay in there?” Kiriku chirped softly. “I’m fine, but give me a heads up next time!” Zohakuten growled.

“Alright! Alright! I will.” Kiriku shook his head and stretched out his wings. “So where do you live?” Zohakuten eased his body against the soft tissue. “By the Butterfly Donation Center in Tokyo.” The harpy nodded. “Got it.” Zohakuten then felt the walls move around him. He presumed it was because Kiriku had finally taken off.

Zohakuten sighed as he curled up inside the warm organ. His eyes grew heavy as the harpy continued to fly. Instead of fighting his urges, he took advantage of the moment and fell into a deep sleep.

[megraen]

Tagged by @adelaidedrubman to share something (I've been very lazy with my writing lately) and I get to show off the new WIP WED banner I made.

The Taste of Poisonous Gold - Chapter 10

Sara awoke with a jolt, sitting on the bed, the covers falling to her waist. With heavy pants, she gripped at the fabric, knowing she was above the covers when she’d gone to sleep, making her brows drop. Her head snapped to her left when she heard the movement of fabric shifting, her green eyes landing on the sleeping form of Rafe beside her. He was asleep on his stomach, turned away from her, sleeping peacefully, utterly unaware of the nightmare that had just ripped her from her slumber. Looking away from him, Sara ran a hand back through her hair as she sighed. Sara had dreamed of her brothers falling deep into the sea's dark depths by an invisible anchor as the breaths were ripped from their throats. And here she was, dry and alive, in bed with a man both her brothers hated. She spared one glance at Rafe’s body before she threw back the covers, discovering her legs bare and devoid of her pants and shoes, understanding that in her exhausted state, Rafe had unaddressed her as well as tucked her in.  Raising to stand, Sara went over to the wide window that looked out over the Indian Ocean. The storm had passed sometime during the night, leaving a calm morning as the sun began rising over the horizon in the distance. Rafe’s bedroom wasn’t facing the island that was their destination, but she’d seen it in the distance the day before in the wheelhouse. Sara just hoped her brothers had successfully survived their boat going under and made it to the island, despite that torrential storm. Sara had been so engrossed in her own thoughts and observing the horizon that she hadn’t registered Rafe moving from the bed until she felt his arms wrapping around her middle, pulling her back flush against his naked chest. “Thinking?” He whispered against her left ear, his lips brushing against the shell. His lips and the heat of his breath made a noticeable shiver run down her spine, making the man smile smugly, enjoying the effect he had over her. “Am I that obvious?” Sara sighed, making him chuckle. She leaned back into his touch, her arms wrapping over his that held her waist tightly. “Have there been any updates?” Sara mumbled, voice weak. She needed to know if Rafe had any updates on her brothers; if he did, they were good. She couldn’t handle any ill news.  “The storm was still raging when I joined you last night,” Rafe answered, still whispering into her ear. “Nadine doesn’t want her men going inland until this morning.”  Sara sighed again, her eyes shutting as she processed this information. In retrospect, she should be happy that there was no news of her brothers, that Nadine hadn’t sent her Shoreline mercenaries to hack and blast down the jungle searching for the Drake brothers and the treasure. No news was good news, after all. But she needed to know they were safe and Nathan and Samuel were okay. The thought made Sara frown. While yes, she knew the boys were alive, they were Morgan’s. Survivors. She did feel guilty that she argued for only Nathan’s life.

[judgementdaysunshine]

Hii! I hope I'm allowed to send this even tho I'm a new follower if not, so sorry!! I just find this whole thing really nice and I checked out your writing, it's great!!!

"⚓️ - Send this with a description of yourself and the fandom(s) you want a ship for!" Could I please get this with Harry Potter and Stranger things? 💗

I am an omnisexual (leaning towards men) she/her female.

I am 5'5 and not really chubby but not really skinny either? I'm in the middle. I'm white so on the paler side but I COOK in the summer, trust. I have hazel/green eyes and light brown, thick, fluffy hair that sits just above my armpits. My style mixes between y2k/streetwear to girlier (I think it'd called coquette).

My hobbies are drawing, writing, and I enjoy many different sports bit don't play super often. I am a HUGEEE foodie, I'll marry you if you give me some good food. If eating and shopping were officially considered hobbies, they'd be mine.

I love my stuffed animals (seriously, I have an unhealthy amount on my bed.), makeup and perfume (although I only wear mascara, lipgloss, and highlighter and only on certain days.). My fav colours are cherry (dark) red and baby pink. I love the tight shirt and baggy pants combo, but also baggy + baggy combo.

My hogwarts house is ravenclaw and I'm an A+ to B (occasionally a b- but only in certain subjects) student. I'm pretty shy when I don't know someone but once we are close I'm really loud and odd. I'm kind of a nerd when it comes to things I enjoy, I can easily get into a ramble about them if they are even slightly mentioned ☠️. I know a lot of people but have 5-6 friends that I truly trust. I'd also say I'm a girls girl, but am also friends with a couple guys.

I say mean things but make it well known that I don't actually mean them and they are all lighthearted jokes that mainly are only said after they are said to me first. I have a really kind and sensitive heart but I cover it up with sarcasm and sassy jokes (that is also my personality, but only one side.) because one of my biggest fears is to be seen as weak or pitiful. I don't talk about my family life because I would rather seem like my life is put together, I don't l want to seem like the friend with a messy life.

I overall have confidence but have my insecure moments. I'm also an ambivert leaning towards extrovert, I enjoy hanging out w people but need a bit of time to myself to recharge after.

Also I apologize if the formatting is wrong or anything!! I've never done anything like this on here before :))

Ofc honey! Everyone is included!

First I ship you with James Potter! 🧡

He likes to silently listen to you rambles no matter what they are about or how long they are he always listens with a gentle smile on his face

He gets you a new stuffed animal every week when he can in between studies and classes always leaving the stuffed animal and a flower on your bed when you're in class

He loves how you just fit in with him and his friends always acting like an older sister to Remus and Sirius who love you dearly and protect you like you protect them

He likes to take you near the lake with food for a picnic instead of sitting and eating in the great hall sometimes so the two of you can have some time together

He likes your sarcasm within your humor always smiling and chuckling at the obvious sarcasm in your jokes especially if you're done dealing with people

He likes helping you with things even if they frustrate him too like helping you with potions or studying a spell together he doesn't stop until you got it in your back pocket

Next I ship you with Steve Harrington ❣️

He likes to bring you food with little notes attached to it even if some of them are cheesy but each note makes you smile

He likes to see you in baggy pants especially if you're also wearing one of his shirts it adds to the look for him making him smile from ear to ear when he sees you in baggy pants and one of his shirts for the day

He likes going out shopping and eating with you even if it's just for clothes or grocery shopping for the month he still likes going holding your hand the whole time

He likes to see you in anything red especially bright red to him red made you more vibrant and brought out more of your features especially your smile

He likes to read what you write especially poe's and stories always smiling and being giddy if it's about him

He likes to watch you draw but he loves when you draw him and leave it nearly folded in his pocket or on his pillow when you stay the night with him

[micotines-addiction]

father

you're gone

you've been gone to my soul for many years

but i'll always remember

how you turned to me in your '97 jeep wrangler

your hand resting on the shifter

and explained away your past

the way you'd sit

and tell me about the books you were reading

as if you had done nothing wrong

the way your eyes glazed over

after i spent a year trying to save you

and you set an amp, a box of reds, and a tumme yumme on the gas station counter

i see you in everything

i see you in every wingstop

every crab delicacy

every microwaved ramen cup

i see you

how you seemed so weak

yet threw him across the room like he was weightless

the tan cargo pants

the big lebowski tshirt that you laid on my knee as i bled and i bled and i scarred

it sits in my closet

it reeks of mildew

and marlboro reds

"you smoke now" you stated so flippantly

"i am you" the words threatened to tear through my throat

i cannot look at myself without thinking of you

i have your nose

i have your eyes

i have your scars

i avoid mirrors and the reflection of puddles

but i cant avoid your influence

the way i sleep in cars

how the engine lulls me into unconsciousness

and feel more comfortable when i sleep on couches

i see you in the green framing of my grandmothers house

i see you when my mom freaks out

i see you behind my eyes

i see you

you never saw me

you never saw me in that closet

with the purple doodle bear staring at me in shame

the sharp trinkets stabbing into me and slicing me open from under the blanket

the way you blamed me

for speaking

i see you in the men i choose

how you all don't care if i live or die

the way i would do anything to please and receive a cognisant stare of existence

please die

give me a breath of relief

please look at me

give me a breath of relief

[to-call-your-own]

Now, about Garrott. (Long text and some media under cut)

Like I said, I bought him roughly for 6 dollars, if you convert it from rubles. It's very cheap for a doll in his state, for it is not that bad. I contacted the seller immediately, but then, due to certain circumstances, had to delay the purchase. It was only a couple of days, but I knew that good deals like that were closed pretty fast. Still, when I contacted the seller again, they still had that doll. So I went ahead and bought it. It wasn't a convenient travel, so to speak, as it took me about three to four hours to get there and then to get home, but I thought it was worth it in the end.

Garrott came in wearing his original pants, boots and, strangely enough, Deuce's sleeveless top. You know, the green and yellow one. He was also lacking his ear piercing, and his lip paint was wiped off, with one of his eyebrows and eye shades slightly smudged. He also had a haircut, so the back of his head was (is) a little short/lacking in that department, but it's not too noticeable. In fact, I would say that the haircut makes him look better, somehow. And one of his leg joints is a little weak. It was obvious that he was a play toy back in the day. The back of his head spelled 2014.

Sorry for the messy room. This is how he looked like after I washed him a bit (just for the sake of it, he was quite clean, but Deuce's top had a whiff of men's perfume about it, and the doll itself harbored a light smell – not all that unpleasant, to be fair, but still). I treated his hair with clothes conditioner, too – once again, just for the sake of it. You can see that his hair is still wet on the photo.

I didn't want to keep him in Deuce's top, so I rummaged around and found the top I initially got for my knock-off Blythe doll, and when I sat back, I realized that it was a very good fit. A bit oversized, yes, but colorwise? It suited him very well.

There's also something about his face, maybe it's just good factory paint or the particle distribution, you know, the ones that are mixed into the plastic to make his skin look like stone. Either way, his face looks extraordinary nice to me. Maybe it's psychological? I was thinking about touching him up with some minor fixes first, but I felt like I would do him more harm than good, that I would break this strange balance somehow. And as the time passed I realized that I don't want to change him at all.

That's how the story goes realistically. Now, if we switch to the imaginary side... If I were to portray this doll as a character, or, rather, a living thing, I would use all these details to make up a backstory for him. Partially, that's also the reason why I didn't want to fix him in any way. There are three ways I can go about it: to make up a completely independent kind of a story, with the characters just being themselves and not realizing that they are, in fact, dolls. Or I could do it the Toy Story way, with the dolls being at least partially aware of their surroundings and the fact that they are dolls. Or, and I think that this is the most preferable way, I could mix up both of these approaches. Sometimes it would be more realistic, sometimes the characters would delve into their fantasies, sometimes it would be just my windowsill or my dusty table. I want to make it situational, you know? And then see how it goes.

Not tagging this one either. I don't think I am going to tag most of it, to be honest, since I don't want to spam the tags... We'll see.

[b-sizzle-12021988]

Horsefly 

It is a different time. A great force once known as the Hero’s of Justice have fallen. Made of 20 young teenage hero’s, only two are alive. One is a blond young woman named Alexandra who was the leader of the group along with her ex boyfriend Brad. Brad the only other one alive murdered everyone by melting them alive with this society who wanted their souls. He then gave them their souls and this society would enslaved these hero’s in the afterlife. They only needed 18 of these souls, a special type of soul to work a bathhouse in the afterlife. These people are weak so they needed someone to gather the souls. When Brad revealed he was the ones behind their murders, he thought Alexandra would want to be with him. He was wrong and she screamed in anger as she tried to kill him. He got away and to this day no one knows where he is. The hero’s had their own property in Japan and essentially had their headquarters there. It is it’s own country. Since then Alexandra in her heartbreak decided to shut down the Hero’s Of Justice and seclude herself at her own country near Japan. She would only go out to get items she needed like food or visit family, but remained out of the limelight and quit the hero business. She was from Poland as is her family. Their fans are depressed, many are  obsessed with heros and the group to this day, less than a month later. They are obsessed with them in death and when they are alive. Many paparazzi are obsessed with them and try to harass Alexandra and tried to harass the rest of the hero’s before their death. Their death took place in dark July. Now the world is without their key heros. There are some hero’s out there but not as well known. 

One is a group. Lead by a Asian man named Con, Son, and American named Jost. Their two man agents Brunto and muscled up black haired men and a gothic 22 year old woman named Kayla. Based in Los Angeles, California, they look to save the world from emerging threats. We go out to a street where people are being attacked by green creature. Kayla and Brunto have been sent out to attack the creature, on August 1st. The creature was attacking a young man, pinning him down to the ground and seemingly sucking away his energy. 

Creature: aahahahahhhhhhhhhhhh

Kayla: What is this stupid ass creature. 

Brunto: I don’t KNOW but this creature is going down. I WILL crush him with my might. 

However before Brunto could attack the creature a voice came from out of nowhere. 

Voice: CREATURE!!! MASTERBATION is a PILLAR of our Society!!!! How dare you violate the sanctity of masterbation!!!

Brunto: WHAT!!!

The creature and Kayla looked in confusion. 

A man came out, a black haired man. 

Man: Well it is logic. If young man is held down then he cannot move his hands. How can he masterbate if he cannot move his hands? 

Kayla, Brunto and the creature just looked in amazement. 

Man: I am the Clasher!!! I am here to kick ass, take names and make babies!!!!!!

Kayla: What the literal fuck!!!!

The Clasher: Now time to die, honk honk mother fucker!!!!!!!!

The Clasher punches the creature away from the young man and then sends a black blast from his hands on the creature, blowing it up and killing it. 

The Clasher: There you go young man. What is your name. 

Young man: My name is Ryan. Thank you for saving me. 

The Clasher: Your welcome young man,  now your free to pull down your pants and jack off as much as you want. 

Ryan: Ughh sureeeee I did that earlier in my college dorm. 

Kayla: Wait a damn minute. Who the hell are you? 

The clasher: Your mom!!!!

Kayla: That does not make any sense . 

The Clasher: Well your mom doesn’t make any sense!!! 

Kayla: Uhhhhh Your an idiot. 

Brandon: Well your mom is an idiot !!!!!!!!!!

Kayla: uhhhhh I stand by what I say. 

Brandon : One thing I will say is I am one badass mother fucker!!!!!!! Well you have a good one Ryan. You other two,  I will see you dumbasses. 

Brandon then left. With Kayla left fuming. Brunto was pissed off as well.  Ryan went home. 

Kayla: Who the hell does he think he is? 

Brunto: Yeah really,  he is I am really smart. I am gooder than he is. 

Kayla: uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!

The end. 

[unlikelymilkshakedream]

Walking through the door, I set down my keys with a loud huff. Today was by far the hardest day to get through in a long time. Part of me still doesn't believe I did get through it. I had four back to back hour and a half long lectures before I had to go to my full time job to launch my career. To say I was tired was an understatement, I was downright exhausted. I should go straight to sleep, I should get well rested for tomorrow, when I have to go back to work yet again, but, there's this part of me, that I can't hold back, that just needs to be released.

Walking further into the house, I ignore anything logical and everything except getting to my destination. I climb the stairs rapidly as I rush into my boyfriend's room. I see him sitting at his computer, and I can't even get my mind to recollect what he's doing on it, before I know it the words are flying out of my mouth.

"Sapnap, if you don't fuck me until I can't walk, I swear to God," slowly, as if time itself freezes, he turns in his chair to face me, his cheeks are tinted pink, and his eyebrows are raised as his face shows surprise.

"B-babe, I'm on discord." I freeze, we haven't seen each other in almost a week, both being incredibly busy, we're lucky if we get five minutes together before the day pulls us apart. At his words, my lust only darkens, and there's no way it's not shown in my eyes as I can't help the smirk that crawls on to the corner of my lips.

"Leave it on." He's even more shocked at my words as I race over to him and straddle his waist.

"bu-" he tries to speak.

"Shut the fuck up," I say as I slam my lips onto his, making him let out an involuntary moan, which is picked up perfectly by the two other men listening through the screen. His hands find their way to my waist as he roughly pulls me down on to his clothed erection, making me break the kiss and let out a loud moan as his lips connect to my weak spot just above my collarbone.

Suddenly, my moment of dominance is over as he stands up causing me to wrap my legs around his waist just before he slams me backwards on to his desk. I let out a loud moan as I open my eyes to see the mic is a couple inches from my lips, meaning George and Dream can hear everything as if they are in the same room, which they are, I guess.

Sapnap seems to see how close I am to the mic as he continues his assault on my neck, he's driving me insane and God does he know it.

"Fuck me, please" I beg and his eyes darken, and before I know it, he sinks two fingers deep into my pussy, I didn't even notice my pants were gone.

"I let out a high pitch scream as I look up to see a green circle around dreams discord profile. I don't realize what it means until I hear fast and loud footsteps pounding up the stairs and suddenly the door swings open.

Dream stands there, his erection completely prominent behind his basketball shorts.

"Need help?" I hear him say before he smirks and I'm lifted into the air and brought over to the bed. My legs around Sapnap's waist are quickly removed as he roughly throws me down onto the mattress making me bounce a little as the wind is knocked straight out of my lungs.

I lay there catching breath as both men look down at me with so much lust in their eyes. I return the look as I watch them darkly. After what feels like ages of them watching me, dream circles to my mouth.

"I want to feel those lips around my cock," I have to force myself to hold back a moan.

"I want this pussy right now," Sapnap says as he roughly pulls my hips to the edge of the bed and spits on my cunt. Without warning, he slams himself completely into me, making my jaw drop as a loud moan echos the room.

Dream sees this as the perfect opportunity to push his length past my lips and to the back of my throat. I gag at the unexpected intrusion as both men start thrusting into my holes in sync making me moan lowly.

As I suck dream off, he runs his hand through my hair, praising me.

"Fuck those lips are so good, fucking hell," he mutters as he slowly thrusts into my moan, making me hollow my cheeks around his length, to which he pulls my hair. This causes me to let out a loud moan around him as my back arches.

Both men see this as Dream pulls even harder and Sapnap fucks me even harder, making me lose my mind. I pull off of Dream and continue to run my hand up and down his shift.

"Fuck, Sapnap, fuck you're fucking me so damn good, please don't fucking stop." I moan out as he doubles his speed. I feel myself nearing the edge as I starts seeing stars. Sapnap hits that sweet spot in me that makes my brain short circuit and my toes curl.

"Oh, shit fuck right there, oh I'm gonna cum!" I moan out as Dream pulls on my roots again.

"Wait." Sapnap says and I practically scream. I rest my forehead against his as we stare into each other's eyes. He's hitting ever my little spot as my eyes fill with tears and I bite my lip until I know its going to bleed to try and keep from cumming.

"No, no daddy, please, fuck, please let me cum, I'm, fuck fuck fuck fuck, daddy!" Sapnap smirks.

"Ask George permission," he says as Dream reached down to rub my clit. I swear these men want me to go limp.

"George, mhu! George please, please daddy, please let me cum I'm so, so close, daddy, daddy, fucking, oh my god!" I scream as I hear him moaning from discord.

"Oh God, oh my fucking God, holy shit, yes, yes, fuck right fucking there," at this point I'm fucking incoherent as I try so desperately to hold off my orgasm. It helps not at all that Dream is still pinching my nipples and running his hands through my hair and degrading me as I stare into Sapnap's eyes. I can barely hold back my orgasm and I try one more time to get George to let me cum before I'm gonna have no choice in whether I cum or not.

"Cum slut" I George says as tears rush down my cheeks and I let out a string of loud moans and screams, shaking and squirting around Sapnap's length. He gives a couple more thrusts before he falls on top of me and I feel his seed explode into me. We cum together as I lose basically all of my senses and the only thing I can focus on is the pleasure coursing through my nerves.

As we lay there, catching our breath, a voice reminds us we're not the only people in the room right now. Dream's lust filled voice quickly reminds us he's still here and hasn't released yet.

"Fuck, that was so hot guys," As we pant to get our breath back, I look up and see his lust filled green eyes staring at us. I whisper in Sap's ear.

"Go finish him off, daddy," he looks at me shocked with a smirk, as if to say 'oh, now you're giving orders?' I push his shoulder lightly and he pulls out of me completely, making me let out a small grunt.

I watch as Sapnap sinks to his knees in front of Dream, as he looks up to the taller man, I can't help but love the scene in front of me. He wraps his hand around Dream's length and slowly kisses the tip of his dick. Dream lets out a grunt as he runs his fingers through Sapnap's hair. Before joining them, I walk over to the computer to see George's icon gone so I shut down the monitor.

I turn around to see Dream with his head thrown back as Sapnap sucks him off. I get on my knees and crawl over to them, surprising Sapnap as I suck on his neck, surely leaving a mark. Once his skin is a deep purple color, I move to help him suck Dream off, cupping his balls with my hand as I kiss his length with Sap. I look up to see his green eyes watching us intently and it looks like his veins are going to pop out of his neck.

"Fuck, this is so hot, it's so good, keep fucking going, oh god," he moans as I take one of his balls into my mouth and suck. His hand comes down to stroke my hair as well as Sapnap's and I can tell by the look of euphoria on his face, he's almost at his release. I move my lips from his balls to the inside of thigh and suck as hard as I can, being sure to leave my mark.

After that, I go up to Sapnap sucking his length and help him get Dream off.

"Fuck, you guys 'r so good at this, fuck right there, oh yes, oh my god, I'm gonna cum," he says as he groans. I pull my mouth off of his length and kiss Sapnap, all while stroking Dream until his white ropes paint both of our faces completely.

I break off from kissing Sapnap to continue Dream painting our faces until there's no more cum left. I look over to see my boyfriend's face covered in Dream's cum and can feel my face looks the same. I kiss him again as his hand reaches down to twist my nipple between his fingers.

We don't even notice when Dream pulls on his clothes from before, and excuses himself from the room. We're both too busy with each other's tongues down our throat to note his absences.

As Dream climbs down the stairs, he can surely hear the moans and groans from the upstairs room, and knows that we will be busy all night long.

[soubi122]

Sweet Dreams - PT 2

New mini series featuring our OG Tenjiku men. All characters are aged up. Our Tenjiku men are...INCUBI!

NO MINORS - MDNI!

Warnings: noncon, dubcon, mentions of blood, suggestive, fingering, f!oral, somnophilia and just good ol’ fantasy.

Part 2 - Fever Dreams

Nimble fingers roamed your body, warm wet muscles dragged across your skin - it felt like you were drifting yet there were light burning sensations running from your thighs, arms and chest. “...the hell is she? …tastes so fucking good.” A male voice could be heard next to your ear. His tone was coy and low - almost sensual or seductive. “...don’t know, but whatever is in her blood…” The voices were drifting in and out. Whose blood? My blood? You think to yourself as your body is laid on top of a table, unable to move and you can’t even see. You can only hear and feel. 

Warmth started to pool between your legs as light circles massaged your bundle of nerves, sending shock waves of bliss into your core - your thighs slightly twitched. Multiple sensations were making a mess out of you, it felt like your body was being taken over by the building orgasm in your core. “She’s close…” You could hear yourself panting and moaning, it felt so surreal - almost like an out of body experience. “That’s enough…” Izana’s voice was soft yet demanding. Everyone backed off and a whimper could be heard - your body was reacting to the loss of contact. “Leave before she wakes up - Kakucho, I need you here, just in case.” The man with the scar across his face and different colored eyes only nodded. 

As everyone huffed and pouted, they proceeded to walk out the door - leaving you three alone. “I need you to stop me before she…” His voice fades in and out. Stop who? What the hell is going on? Izana begins to roam your body with his hands, lightly caressing your skin and placing delicate kisses on your lips - trailing down to your neck. Why does this…feel so…good? Your parted lips give Izana the green light to proceed. He slowly runs his fingers through your folds, his breath hitching at the warmth and slick. It felt as if your body was being set on fire again. Wherever he touched with his lips - it burned but in such a pleasurable way. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Izana says to Kakucho as he slides down your ruined panties and spreads your legs apart. Basking at how the lights cast almost an ethereal glow on your sheen juices, he dove face first - licking a long stripe from your core to your clit. “Mhh…” Your body reacted and a moan escaped your throat. A smirk spread across Izana’s lips as your cunt clenched around nothing. Kakucho could only watch, his member twitched at every small moan that escaped your throat. 

“She's…” his voice faded out as a familiar feeling began to bubble inside you. Your moans became more intense, making Izana slide two digits in your core and pump them in and out. His tongue flicked your clit with such accuracy and pressure that your walls were clenching tightly around his fingers. He ripped the orgasm from your core, making you gasp. Izana began to unzip his pants and glid his tip through your slick, making him bask at the warmth. It felt like your lungs were struggling to fill back up with air when his tip began to prod you. “F-Fuck…I need her, now-” Izana's words were cut off by Kakucho pulling him away from your body. “You'll kill her if you keep going.”  He was right, you were struggling to breathe. “Shit. Clean her up before she wakes up…” Everything went black again.

***a few hours later***

You woke up gasping and looked around the unfamiliar room as you sat up. The couch you were on wasn’t yours, this place wasn’t yours either - where the hell were you? A male voice calls out to you, making you turn around in a panic. “(Y/N), welcome back - are you ok?” Izana’s soft voice made you exhale in relief. “What happened? Where am I?” You ask while trying to stand, but your knees feel weak and they buckled, making you collapse back on to the couch. “Easy there, you passed out when you saw blood.” You looked down and noticed that you were wearing a t-shirt, his shirt. The blush that dusted your face was noticeable to Izana, even from a distance. “Don’t worry, we cleaned up your wound and bandaged it.” Another male voice says. It was the man with the scar across his face, he was sitting down by the kitchen island and avoiding your eyes. A light pink blush dusted his cheeks. He was lying to you but he couldn't look you in the eye or else you'd end up on his lap - he was still hungry. Only Izana got to feed off of you completely. Everyone else had a taste, but not enough to satisfy them and Kakucho could only replay your sweet moans in his head. “Oh, thank you. I’m so sorry I caused you so much trouble, those guys on the train, did they-” Izana cut you off with a smile on his face. “They’ve been taken care of. They won’t bother you again.” His tone was sweet yet menacing.

Soon you started thinking about the voices from earlier. “I um, I wasn’t freaking out while unconscious, was I? I swear I could hear myself and other people talk…” You mumbled and Kakucho felt his stomach drop. “N-No, you were out like a light.” He was quick to respond before Izana did. They didn’t know you were still slightly conscious, if you would have caught them - they would have no choice but to end it all now. “You get queasy around blood, huh?” Izana asked with a smirk on his face, Kakucho recognized that look anywhere. You were going to see blood a lot more often now, to get you blacked out again if he was hungry during the day. “I do, I’m so sorry.” You kept apologizing and bowing. Your obliviousness made them both chuckle. You had no idea how close you were to death, nor the amount of men that saw your beautiful body on display for them. 

Izana walked you out and back to your place - though it was just next door, he wanted to get just a little more time alone with you. “I owe you one, thank you.” You said bowing again and making him laugh, you were too pure. His laugh and smile had you blushing and biting your lower lip. Something about him was putting you under a spell. “How ‘bout this? Cook dinner for me. That’ll be my price.” You nodded and thanked him again. “Just tell me when and what you’d like to eat and I’ll do my best-” He cut you off by closing the distance between you, “Surprise me…I’m sure you’ll taste delicious.” Your heart began to beat out of its chest, this gorgeous man was flirting with you and here you are looking like a complete train wreck. Izana began walking away when it finally hit you. Wait…did he say I’ll taste delicious? Your knees felt weak for a split second and you began to feel butterflies in your stomach. 

What followed were small instances of Izana getting closer to you, little by little the others became close friends with you as well. However, the flirtatious Haitani brothers always had you on edge - shortness of breath followed when they would tease you, it always ended up with Izana and Kakucho pulling you away from them. Mucho, Mochizuki and Shion kept their distance and only got close a few times - they understood their boundaries but sometimes would end up taking your breath away with some of their actions. 

**Weeks later**

It was 2:40 a.m. and you were having a hard time sleeping, you were running a slight fever and left the windows open, you were too lazy to turn on the a/c. Someone in your office had caught a cold and ended up getting you sick. You were in only a pair of panties and a t-shirt, sprawled across the mattress without a care in the world. After taking some medicine and finally falling asleep - you began your journey into dreamland. Soon your innocent dream got disrupted - you were caged between two men on the mattress, you couldn’t see their faces but they’re voices sounded familiar. Their hands were roaming your skin, Fuck, why do you taste so good? One of them said from behind you as he trailed his lips on your shoulder, making you gasp and pant. We’re going to make sure you feed us properly this time. The one in front of you said and he connected his lips with yours, the warm muscle overwhelmed yours as he tasted every crevice of your mouth. You felt your eyes roll back to your skull when two fingers plunged themselves inside your core. Mmnh…I-  You were trying to speak between breaths and kisses but he wouldn’t let you get much of a sentence out. 

Their hardened members could be felt on your lower back and on your tummy - they felt massive and you were dying to touch them. Your dainty hands reached for them both, earning a low groan - almost a growl from them both. Their members twitched as you began to stroke them, you began to lift your leg - making the fingers that were filling your hole pull out. As much as we want to gorgeous, we can’t… The one from behind you said in a teasing tone. It made you whimper in frustration. Just a little teasing won’t kill her… The one in front of you said as his hand hooked itself under your knee and lifted your leg a little higher and let you rub both their tips through your folds. Your sweet moans filled the room as you rubbed them harder against you, it was a high that you’ve never felt before. Each stroke and rub had them moaning and panting against your skin. Whatever you were doing to them was making them get closer to their own release. However, the moment you tried to line one of the tips to your entrance, barely prodding your core - you felt a hand grip your wrist tightly, stopping your motions as they heard your breath hitch and struggle. We can’t…we’ll end up hurting you. You were getting more and more frustrated. P-Please…I need to feel something, anything! You were begging pathetically, and they pulled their members away from you - making you lay flat on the mattress. The tears that welled in your eyes almost made them break, but if Izana finds out - he’d kill them. 

They laid next to you, the one who was in front of you trailed kisses on your chest and latched his mouth onto your nipple. He began to suck and nibble, making your back arch and moan - your moans became muffled when the one who was behind you gripped your chin and made you face him, crashing his lips with yours. His kiss was much more aggressive and hungry than the other man’s kiss. Both their hands traveled south and one of them plunged two fingers in your core while the other one traced circles on your clit. You could feel your coil tighten as each of their motions sent waves of pleasure to your body. All the teasing and built up tension made it easier for you to reach your climax. Your legs began to quiver as the familiar sensation came crashing into you - making you break the kiss and moaning. Ngh…Ran, R-Rin….I’m cumming! Your juices coated their hands and fingers as you gushed. Their bodies tensed upon hearing their names…there was no way you could have known it was them - they made sure to distort your vision before coming into your dreams tonight. We’re in so much trouble if she remembers this little visit. Rindou says as he sits up almost in a panic. She won’t remember anything - there’s no way she can. Ran says as he brushes your cheek - you passed out from the intense orgasm. 

The next morning you woke up completely disheveled and sore. Your body was on fire. “What the…” You say out loud as you feel a wet sensation between your legs. You pulled the covers away and saw the wet spot on the sheets and your face immediately went bright red. The sheets were ruined with your juices, recalling the dream you had - you felt your thighs burn. “Oh my god, did I dream of the Haitiani brothers???” Clasping your hands on your face, your mind went hazy and you fell back into the pillow, this wasn’t normal. Dreams like this were becoming more and more frequent, each with a friend from next door. The sound of the doorbell ringing made you sit up immediately and you quickly changed your underwear and put some pants on while heading out of your room. “I’m coming, just a second!” You yell as you get closer to the door. Upon opening it you were met with a pair of violet eyes and his eyebrows were furrowed. “I-Izana, hey - -w-what’s up?” You stutter and notice that he’s not smiling. Worry began to gnaw at you, he usually smiles when you see him first thing in the morning. “(Y/N), are you ok? I’ve been calling your phone for over half an hour.” Wait - what? His tone was laced with concern, and rightfully so - the scent you were giving off almost made him burst through your door. Not to mention you had marks on your neck and chest, you were in too much of a hurry to answer the door that you didn’t notice.

“You called me? I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear my phone. I think I left it on vibrate by accident.” You say and bow. Izana is quick to cup your chin and tilt it upwards - making you face him. “You apologize too much. Now, are you sure you’re ok?” Your warm smile and doe eyes reassured him. Though he was going to a few choice words with his friends about the marks on your body. “Now, about that dinner you owe me. How does tonight sound?” 

Part 2 End.

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[erodasfishtacos]

I wanna see gang yn tell Harry she’s pregnant- or see little moments between them while she’s pregnant, like finding out they’re having twins. 🥺

okay but I imagine this.

tw: violence, blood, weapons, smut

-

There is currently three dead men in their warehouse.

Harry has another one tied to a creaky old wooden chair, interrogating him with a sharp knife on his cheek, “Where the fuck is Richie? I know you killed one of my men.”

The man spits at Harry, leaning away from the blade, “Fuck you. I’m not talkin’.”

YN is watching casually from where she’s sitting on a countertop, a iced coffee in her hand, and she’s just admiring how hot her husband is.

His long hair is pulled up in a bun, his sharp jaw clenched, blood on his white shirt that’s clung a bit to his body with sweat and other fluids.

He’s so lean, muscular with bulging biceps, abs taut under his clothes. Her name tattooed proudly on his neck, little beads of sweat.

Harry slices down his cheek, tearing the skin open, “Tell me right now or I’m goin’ t’kill you. This is your last warning. I am about to show you why they call me Diablo,” Harry seethes, the knife dragging down to his neck.

He refuses to speak, Harry gets impatient and pulls out his weapon of choice - his desert eagle and delivers one resounding shot.

Harry looks unsympathetically at the rival gang members, his own men sitting back and letting the leader work.

The associates began to scuttle around to begin the clean up process.

Her husband tugs off his shirt and then shimmies out of his tight black jeans - tossing them carelessly by the bodies so his men can dispose of them.

Just in his tight briefs, his intricate morale of the depth of hell and the devil decorating his whole chest and stomach.

Then he’s trailing over to his wife, grabbing her jaw and searing their lips together for a long kiss as she runs a hand over his tensed abs.

It’s not the right moment, well it wouldn’t be for a normal couple but they weren’t any normal couple to start off with.

“I want to have a baby,” YN blurts out as her husband’s hands grip onto her thighs to pull her center against his.

Harry doesn’t look surprised often.

His mossy green eyes widen, puffy lips parting, as he searches her relax, open face, “You want me t’put a baby in you?”

She nods, feeling a nervous fluttering, they’d been married for three years - it had been on her mind a lot.

“If you aren’t - I know we’ve been talking about it. But if it’s not some-“ She stutters out as she observes Harry’s stoic face.

He leans forward, cupping her face, and telling her firmly, “I will give you whatever y’want, sweetheart. If y’want me to make y’a mommy - I’ll do it right now.”

By this point the men had dragged the bodies out to a nondescript van and were pouring industrial grade bleach on the tiled floor.

Harry turns around and booms, “Get the fuck out, right now.”

The associates pause, confused, Greg speaks, “But we just start-“

In true Harry form, he grabs his gun next to his wife, and fires at warning shot at their feet, “Fuck off or next time it’s going to be y’leg.”

They run out like there’s fire under their arses.

YN shouldn’t get wetter at that but she does.

He turns around after the leave, wastes no time to in yanking her shirt over her head, bra, and then roughly stripping off her legging, and panties

“Fuckin’ look at you, made you my wife, now m’make y’the mother of my babies,” Harry hisses when YN sneaks her hand in his briefs to tug his thick length out.

“Remember when we first met. You told me you never wanted to even have a girlfriend, let alone a wife. You told me you didn’t want kids,” YN murmurs as she pumps him with a firm grip.

Harry groans into her mouth, “Baby, jus’ like tha’. All that changed when I fell f’you.”

YN swipes her thumb over the tip before tugging the fabric down his narrow hips and guiding him right into where she’s so warm and ready for him.

“You told me love was made up by pathetic stupid people who were too dumb to realize it was a scam,” She reminds him, breath hitching when he stretches her perfectly.

-

As they’re waiting for drinks, Harry scoffs at a young couple kiss and cooing at each other on the other side of the way.

It was a really shady bar.

They were there to do business together - Harry and YN - nothing more than that.

“Fuckin’ idiots,” He shakes his head, swigging down his whiskey dry as soon as it’s placed in front of him - he doesn’t even flinch.

“They’re in love,” YN defends with a small smiles as she watches the man make the girl giggle with glee - just happiness.

“So y’a fucking idiot too?” Harry asks meanly, giving her a glance over with a pursed lip, “Guess y’beauty and no fuckin’ brains.”

“You have a real way with women, charmer,” She replies sarcastically, sipping her whiskey sour.

Harry laughs with a tinge of arrogance, “I don’t need charm. Any women and most men in this bar would fuck if they had the chance.”

“Well I’ll be one who won’t,” YN says haughtily.

His jaw clenches subtly, “Don’t be bitter, darling. Love is made up. It doesn’t exists. It’s for weak-minded little sheeps like you.”

—-

Harry takes a deep inhale, eyes dark as night, teeth bared as he tells her, “Our love isn’t what other average people have. I still believe all of that. My love f’you is s’strong I’d fuckin’ die for you this second.”

YN moans when he fucks in hard enough to make her skid back on the counter - he grips her harder and anchors her back down.

“D’you think any other man would do tha’ f’their wife? I mean truly do that? No. I’ve seen men let their wives die to save themselves,” Harry grits out, tugging her legs around his waist.

She is panting, not able to get a word out between breathes, he’s giving it to her so fucking well. Her nipples brushing against his sweaty chest, making it feel so much better.

Her grips her jaw hard, “Answer me.”

“Baby, I know, I know. I love you, please,” She begs loudly, whining when he wraps his hand around her neck.

“Open,” Harry orders, hand forcing her mouth open before spitting and then chasing it with his tongue into her mouth.

“H, m’coming.” YN warns him, pushing her hips into his until their skin is slapping and making noise in the room.

“Y’get so sweet when I’m fuckin’ you,” Harry praises, tweaking her nipple as she wets his cock even more than before.

He speeds up, sweat beading down his temple, he curses and grunts, “Gonna give y’a baby, give you anythin’.”

And when they finally slow to a halt, catching their breath, he whispers in a syrupy soft voice, “You’re my everything.”