#like the highs and lows are staggering

[halfelven]

sooooooo anyone else’s spotify wrapped totally showing their mental breakdown this year?

[robotsprinkles]

hm.

so for some reason fromsoft decided a bunch of the high-damage high stagger weapons that can chunk half your health or more in a single hit should be attacker-sided.

which means if the latency is ass then your opponent will hit you with attacks that completely miss you on your screen — and when I say completely miss I mean their laser/bazooka shell/etc is straight up at least a full fifteen to twenty to a full hundred metres away from your ac

(not an exaggeration)

and you'll still eat all that damage and impact because while fromsoft are amazing at game design and art direction and all that their netcode is hot garbage

like I still love the game but god is it frustrating dying to someone because they shoot at a point a hundred metres away from you in the sky while you're standing on the ground and instantly stagger you and delete half your ap

[moonsvillain]

rewatching the movie and what if ryo threw himself in front of amagai's knife instead of grabbing it :))))))

ohhh that would be so fun. i feel it'd also be the point of no return for amagai—happens before the heart wrenching speech that ryo gives that somewhat brings him back to reality for the time being. i think the most amagai would get from that stabbing is that his last line of defence is gone and take the chance to run.

i'd also imagine fujio would leap to the opportunity to help him, especially with something as redeeming as jumping in front of a knife that one of his friends tried wielding against him on ryo's side. all around ideal way for him to slowly get indoctrinated into oya high. i will write something about this maybe you got me thinking now anon...

[justdiptych]

There's a scene in Fallout: New Vegas that I find really interesting in how it uses skill checks in dialogue. A merchant company, the Crimson Caravan, want to buy out one of their rivals, Cassidy Caravans, and they hire the player character to negotiate the deal. The player has likely already met the rival company's owner, Rose of Sharon Cassidy, by this point - in fact, it's entirely possible that she suggested they ask the Crimson Caravan for work in the first place.

Cass is propping up the bar at a truck stop on the border near the game's opening area. She's heard that her caravan has been destroyed in her absence - her employees killed and their wagons burned in an attack on the road - but she can't investigate because of a bureaucratic hold-up. The man in charge of the border post, Ranger Jackson, has halted all commercial traffic across the border because of dangers on the roads - wild animals, bandits, and enemy soldiers - that the authorities are struggling to get under control.

When the player brings the Crimson Caravan's offer to Cass, she refuses on principle. Her business may have effectively been destroyed, but she's too proud and too stubborn to sell her surname for any number of messes of pottage. Convincing her requires that the player employs one of either their Speech or Barter skills - there are two options for each, requiring either moderate or high investments of skill points. Skill and Barter are the game's two Charisma-based skills, and it's not uncommon for them to appear side-by-side like this, but here, they diverge in application.

The easier Speech option is simple - the player just reminds Cass that, if she sells the business, she won't be commercial traffic anymore, so she'll be able to get across the border. She's itching to get on the road again, so this convinces her. (She will ask the player to help Jackson clear the roads for the benefit of her fellow merchants, but this is a very simple quest that they likely already completed hours ago.)

The more challenging Speech check is to tell Cass that there's no way her business can survive, so it's her duty to do the merciful thing - shoot it in the head, bury it, and move on with her life. This, naturally, brings her close to socking the player in the jaw, but she sees the truth in it. She's been holding onto the forlorn hope that there might be something left to save, but she really has lost everything. This bypasses Jackson's quest - she just wants to walk out and not look back.

The Barter options approach things differently - from the Speech options, and from each other. The more challenging one involves making some sport of the offer, challenging Cass to a drinking contest. The player has to supply the booze, and they run the risk of getting embarrassingly drunk if their Endurance stat is too low, but, either way, this will impress Cass enough that she'll sign the contract.

The easier Barter option, though, is, I think, the most interesting. It requires the player to sweeten the deal with their own money - a not insubstantial amount of it, in fact. Cass is still hesitant, though, which allows the player to make a very interesting point. With the money from the Crimson Caravan plus the player's contribution, she'd have enough to restart her business - buy new animals and equipment, hire a new crew, start trading again.

Further, the player can point out that the Crimson Caravan are unlikely to continue using the 'Cassidy Caravans' name after buying it. They're only buying her out to try to monopolise local trade, after all. If they don't use the name, they'll forfeit their rights to it - meaning that Cass can, as she puts it, take their money, give them nothing, and go back to running her business as if the attack never happened.

Cass, naturally, accepts this offer, though she's staggered that the player is so willing to sell out their employers to help her like this. (The player needn't feel any moral misgivings about doing so. A little investigation reveals that the attack on Cass's business was actually engineered by the Crimson Caravan themselves, in collusion with a crime family, in a conspiracy to wipe out their competition.)

I think this entire interaction represents how well New Vegas uses skill checks. Barter, in RPGs, is often a very barebones skill. Its use is letting the player earn more and spend less - as part of an equation determining shop prices, or in dialogue options that boil down to asking for money. It's not uncommon for Speech to be the skill of the peaceful, benevolent diplomat, while Barter is for common mercenaries.

Here, though, the Barter options actually cost more than their Speech equivalents. The player ends up out of pocket for a sizable chunk of change or at least a lot of booze. Instead, the Barter skill represents the character's understanding of common business practices and relevant laws. It allows them to convince Cass to accept a deal by finding a loophole that benefits her more than if she refused.

The equivalent Speech options, meanwhile, are effectively free, but do involve making Cass feel that little bit worse. They emphasise what she's lost, how trapped she is by her circumstances, and convince her to give up and let the Crimson Caravan win. In the long run, this doesn't make a real difference - once she leaves the outpost, she and the player can discover the conspiracy and get their revenge either way - but I think the choice does let the player say something about their character.

Part of the brilliance of this game is how little details, like Cass being stuck at the outpost, tie into other details all across the story. Caravan traffic is halted, in part, because deathclaws have nested near the roads to the north. They've nested there because the local quarry has ceased operations - the noise caused by the digging and blasting had previously scared them off.

The quarry closed down because escaped convicts raided it and stole the workers' stash of mining explosives. The convicts escaped because the government was using them for forced labour on the railroads, and foolishly entrusted them with enough dynamite to stage an uprising, seize control of the prison, and turn it into a fortress and a base of operations for banditry.

Similarly, the threads of Cass's story spread outwards, ultimately affecting the entire future of New California. When she learns that the Crimson Caravan and their allies killed her friends, Cass is furious. She wants to march over there and beat the snot out of the people responsible. The player can convince her to instead settle things legally - get proof of their crimes, pass them on to Ranger Jackson, and hope the justice system gets revenge for her.

If Cass does things her way, the criminals pay with their lives, but their bosses end up better off for it. With their regional execs murdered, the trading companies can claim that the government isn't doing enough to protect them - so, they don't have to support the government's interests, either. They withdraw trade, demand special treatment, and end up making their shortfall everyone's problem.

If the legal option is pursued, though, the evidence becomes blackmail material. The government has the trading companies over a barrel, and that lets them pass stricter trade laws. Given the choice of accepting regulation or facing criminal investigation, the crooked execs choose to stay out of jail. Those responsible for the murders technically avoid justice, but their hopes of a monopoly are dashed - and their superiors are unlikely to be pleased with them having hurt long-term profits so badly.

Cass's story is political and economical all the way through. It's about the influence of wealth on government, and the fundamental injustices of the carceral system. It's about revenge, and reform, and how to hit people where it hurts - their bottom line. And it's about how, sometimes, skills in an RPG aren't about making numbers go up - they're about how a character understands the world around them, and how they can apply that understanding to help someone out of a jam, or help reshape the trade lines of a whole nation.

[reasonsforhope]

"When a severe water shortage hit the Indian city of Kozhikode in the state of Kerala, a group of engineers turned to science fiction to keep the taps running.

Like everyone else in the city, engineering student Swapnil Shrivastav received a ration of two buckets of water a day collected from India’s arsenal of small water towers.

It was a ‘watershed’ moment for Shrivastav, who according to the BBC had won a student competition four years earlier on the subject of tackling water scarcity, and armed with a hypothetical template from the original Star Wars films, Shrivastav and two partners set to work harvesting water from the humid air.

“One element of inspiration was from Star Wars where there’s an air-to-water device. I thought why don’t we give it a try? It was more of a curiosity project,” he told the BBC.

According to ‘Wookiepedia’ a ‘moisture vaporator’ is a device used on moisture farms to capture water from a dry planet’s atmosphere, like Tatooine, where protagonist Luke Skywalker grew up.

This fictional device functions according to Star Wars lore by coaxing moisture from the air by means of refrigerated condensers, which generate low-energy ionization fields. Captured water is then pumped or gravity-directed into a storage cistern that adjusts its pH levels. Vaporators are capable of collecting 1.5 liters of water per day.

Pictured: Moisture vaporators on the largely abandoned Star Wars film set of Mos Espa, in Tunisia

If science fiction authors could come up with the particulars of such a device, Shrivastav must have felt his had a good chance of succeeding. He and colleagues Govinda Balaji and Venkatesh Raja founded Uravu Labs, a Bangalore-based startup in 2019.

Their initial offering is a machine that converts air to water using a liquid desiccant. Absorbing moisture from the air, sunlight or renewable energy heats the desiccant to around 100°F which releases the captured moisture into a chamber where it’s condensed into drinking water.

The whole process takes 12 hours but can produce a staggering 2,000 liters, or about 500 gallons of drinking-quality water per day. [Note: that IS staggering! That's huge!!] Uravu has since had to adjust course due to the cost of manufacturing and running the machines—it’s just too high for civic use with current materials technology.

“We had to shift to commercial consumption applications as they were ready to pay us and it’s a sustainability driver for them,” Shrivastav explained. This pivot has so far been enough to keep the start-up afloat, and they produce water for 40 different hospitality clients.

Looking ahead, Shrivastav, Raja, and Balaji are planning to investigate whether the desiccant can be made more efficient; can it work at a lower temperature to reduce running costs, or is there another material altogether that might prove more cost-effective?

They’re also looking at running their device attached to data centers in a pilot project that would see them utilize the waste heat coming off the centers to heat the desiccant."

-via Good News Network, May 30, 2024

[poohbea]

After a long day, Sukuna finds you on the bed reading, in nothing but your panties on. Whether you intend to be or not, you’re a fucking temptation, the walking drug to his never ending addiction.

Your laughter sounds when he lays kisses upon your face, your lips — soft and sweet — your neck, lower, lower, till he finds solace between your thighs. His breath is steady, hot against your clothed cunt.

“My perfect girl.” He exhales, tongue laving a pressured strip over the cotton, spit soaking though it just as your arousal does the longer he teases you. With your hips unable to keep still, and those thighs of yours threatening to close, he takes it as his cue to tear the troublesome barrier right through the middle. You gasp at the sound of ripping fabric, book now long forgotten in the ruffled bedsheets at your side. “Mine.” His growl is low, but given the silence blanketing the room it’s audible enough for you to let out a whine-filled sigh, one that carries your pleas, your desire, your longing. All of it in one simple breath.

When his lips finally envelop your aching clit the scene that unfolds is much like the picture you'd sent him earlier in the day. Your back arched prettily as his tongue dips between your folds and past your entrance. Your taste flooding his senses almost entirely, and he'd have it no other way. Your head lolls back, mouth agape in a broken moan and he draws you closer — impossibly so — holding your thighs apart, pinning them to your chest while he devours you as if he'd been starving himself for weeks.

“That's right, princess. Fuck my tongue, let me hear how good you feel.” The glow of his eyes illuminates the softness of your skin — already moulded perfectly in his hands — a tell tale sign of exactly what it is you do to him. You drive him mad. Always leading him here, on his knees, ready to witness the syllables of his name falling from your lips.

“Kuna!” You moan, hands cupping your tits as you fail to squirm in his grasp. “Kuna!” There it is again, breathier, more high pitched. It precedes the gradual tightening of your walls, his fingers replacing his tongue, pads of the index and middle finding that perfect spot that has your own digits carding through his hair. “Sukuna!” There it is. That scream of ecstasy. The pulsing of your cunt around his fingers. A drug that overtakes him entirely.

He's rooted to that place between your thighs, tongue lapping at your clit as you come down in an array of staggered breaths. “Good girl. Good. Fucking. Girl.” He groans, contently driving you into overstimulation, ensuring that you continue to look like that picture. Or perhaps, he'll make you cum over and over and over again till you've got no choice but to stay like that for the remainder of his time with your perfect cunt.

[hanwiore]

onyankapon x blackfemreader!

Genre: Sexy Hot Nasty Ass Smut

“Mmph!” Your eyes roll back as rough big hands held over your mouth, fingers sliding off the white clean sink and your thigh almost slipping off of it. Your foot that was on the floor and still in your pink marc jacob slides curl and grip on it. “Shut that shit up right now.” A slap was made to your ass cheek and you cry out through his spit covered fingers. Your back was arched and you open your eyes to look in the bathroom mirror.

Onyankapon stands there thrusting ruthlessly in your fat tight cunt, one hand covering your mouth as the other held your thigh that was on top of the sink in place, your short white nails gripping the sink and one hand falls to ony’s lower stomach, you moan and thankful his hand around your mouth was holding you back cause your face would have fallen on the mirror. “O-ony pleaseuuhhh” your voice is muffled and quiet, “what i say huh?” Gold one row grill sitting on his pretty white teeth as he spoke angrily in your ear. Hand now on your neck and his other hand smacking your thigh harshly.

Tears started to form and now he moved closer, chin on your shoulder and he thrusted up, circling his hips into you like he hated you. You almost thought he did until he moaned loudly when your pussy tightened up, signaling your upcoming orgasm. “Y-you always fuckin- shit. Always playin with me like you don’t give a fuck.” His hand on your neck tightened, your thighs shook and you made eye contact with him in the mirror.

“I don’t give a fuck, a-about your damn commitment issues. You hear me?” The hand that was on your neck smacks your cheek lightly to make sure you were listening, you gasp and whine “y-yes ony ohmygosh. please please, i-im so sorry hnnn.” You didn’t mean to ghost ony for a week, you just got so detached from your phone you forgot someone actually cared for you and wanted to speak to you all the time and make sure you were okay. You hear him grumbling on the side of you but you just couldn’t think.

First he kisses your shoulder, then your cheek and neck. He turns your head towards him so you guys can go in for a sloppy kiss, exchanging moans all while he deep in your tummy. “Pussy so good and y-you was finna leave me hm? Make me feel so fuckin good mama.”

You’re gonna fucking cum.

The way he looks at you with low eyes and the way he rasp his sentences.

“Ony” it was different…this orgasm was different. You felt like crying and it was so hard to breath. Your lips formed a pout and you felt your eyes burning with tears .. “nghhh shit w-wait pa ohmygoshhhh wait!”

“Now you want me to wait? Thought you was working for that nut? Cum on that shit, make my shit more wet baby.” Oh and you fucking did. Thighs shaking and you were whining so fucking loud. “P-pa hnnnn daddy fuuck pl-please i c-can’t stop-“ you were making such a big mess, squirting on the sink and it drips in the floor, hearing the plop plop plop. And your cunt was so fucking tight! “Uhn shit.” Ony gasp.

And the unnecessarily loud squelching. Ony was looking down at your pretty two toned pussy, speading your pussy lips from behind to capture your wetness and creaminess. He bites his lips and closes his eyes as his head leaned back “mhhm” he mumbles and started beating your shit up for a quick second. “Imma cum mama… cum in this nasty ass pussy, f-fuck baby.” His hips staggered and he moved his face towards your moaning neck. Kissing and groaning up in it ass his bust his load into you.

Both breathing heavy and high on sex.

“Do that shit again and it’s gonna be worse.”

[pseudowho]

Deadly Nightshade

(help me find the Suguru artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

A Suguru Geto "sex pollen" fic.

Suguru swallows an aphrodisiac curse, and finds the reader when his entanglement becomes too much to bear.

Warnings: *MONSTERFUCKING*, Loss of control (Suguru), rough but consensual, throat-fucking, Suguru's cursed technique...but sexy, tentacle shibari, cum as cure

(AU!Adult Suguru who never left Jujutsu High timeline)

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"Will be late home. It's a big one. Go to sleep without me, baby. You'll be tired."

Suguru finished tapping, looking up to the abandoned industrial site with wary interest, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He felt beckoned into this concrete jungle in a way he found unsettling; the Curse was clearly disguising its true potential, hiding in plain sight...but calling in back-up (likely Nanami or Higuruma at this time of day) would only put them at risk. And, they were tired.

With an internal spiteful sting at having lost his evening with you, which Suguru suppressed, black eyes flat and expressionless, he stepped onwards into the plunging lush foliage and exposed steel beams.

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Suguru's apologetic text filled you with disappointed longing. Loneliness and worry quashed your appetite. All your hopes and plans for a soft, touch-filled evening curled up on the sofa with him, were wiped.

Sighing, lovelorn and resigned, you took yourself to bed, your face snuffled into Suguru's pillow and the soft-spiced smell of him, to lull you into sleep.

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Suguru staggered through the door, leaning back to close it, gasping, sweating, clawing his jacket and shirt off his body. He burned from within, like the nine circles of hell.

After swallowing the curse, the roiling forest had disappeared with it...but Suguru soon felt its many limbs stretching within him, caressing the deepest parts of him, blighting him with this ungodly pain--

--no...not pain, Suguru thought vaguely, now naked except for his hakama, beads of sweat dripping from chest to belly as he teetered towards the bathroom. White-knuckled hands clasped the sink-- Suguru caught himself in the mirror, ripples of desire thrumming through him with every frantic beat of his heart, his raven hair free of its tie and framing febrile eyes--

Suguru retched, his shoulders heaving with exertion, retching again, his rigid cock crushed against his thigh as he collapsed forwards, seeping pre-cum and shaking and moaning, thinking of you in your bed you in your bed you in your bed--

Out of control I'm out of control got to take it back got to--

Something in Suguru snapped.

The lights flickered out one by one, from bathroom to corridor, as an eldritch forest clawed its way back out of him.

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You awoke in a fever dream, your sigh condensing and hanging heavy and humid in the earthy hushhushhush of a tropical forest, teeming with life.

What a strange dream, you thought. You did not notice how this set you apart from true dreamers, who would not find anything unusual about waking on a bed of moss and monstera. The duvet felt warm and springy with foliage beneath your fingertips, your toes, your body.

You had slept, and these uncanny tropics had grown up around you. Not one surface was free of queerly animated vines, yawning tropical flowers, and thick verdant leaves. Unable to see where one room began and another ended, your little home suddenly stretched for miles and closed in on you all at once.

You stepped gingerly off the bed, your feet settling on dewy leaves, splitting the fine low mist that clouded there. As you stepped to the doorway, you did not feel the hissing black tendrils, more creature of the deep than plant, that reached longingly after your feet.

Led only by curious patches of bioluminescence, eerie and golden, you moved to the living room, blinking, certain you were ill. A familiar voice, soft and dangerous, came forth from the shadows.

"You're awake. Good. I'd have fucked you while you slept, but they wanted you squirming."

With a gasp and a cry, you felt yourself become intangibly bound and suspended, feeling the rush of smooth tendrils snaking around your chest and bare thighs, wrists and ankles. Wrists tied behind your back, and legs folded up until your heels touched the backs of your thighs, your legs spread, you hung at face level to Suguru, who stalked out from a patch of hazy light.

Suguru had always held a haunting grace, a soft, untouchable masculinity, an unwavering abstract sensitivity. But, approaching you now, his black eyes were flat, sharklike, predatory. He had not hunted you, but had, instead, waited for you on the outskirts of his web.

In only his hakama, fine black tendrils tattooed his skin, animating him as he panted, desperate and sweating. The tendrils seemed to be soothing him, stroking, constantly moving over his rigid cock, his chest, his throat. As your own tendrils began to offshoot from the black wet-velvet vines that bound you, creeping under your clothes, circling round your nipples and creeping towards your core, a whimper broke free from your throat.

"Shhhhh, shh, shh, I need you wet if you're gonna do this for me, sweetheart."

Suguru stepped to you as if you catch your voice in his hands, sliding one finger into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. He shivered in contrary to the inferno inside him, gripping his weeping cock with a roughened moan. As Suguru stroked your tongue, he reached down to undo his hakama, letting the coiling vines pull them from his body.

Suguru pressed against you now, lifting your top so he could rut his weeping cock against your belly, still examining your mouth with his fingers. You felt them tremble against your tongue. The last shreds of your Suguru were the only thing holding him back from taking you with bruising force. The vines coiled through your top, your underwear, shredding, removing, until you were naked, suspended, entwined.

Suguru's black eyes feasted on you, one hand stroking his cock with an iron grip, pre-cum wetting his fingers, and the other hand grazing over you, stroking the peaks of your breasts, your ribs, slipping between your puffy lips to see how ready you were for him. Carnal instinct took over, and he pressed himself back against you, his cock leaping in his hand.

Suguru shivered again, skin to skin with you. He knew, instinctively, that the itch at the base of his skull would not-- could not-- become dormant until he had completely spent himself inside you.

"You know I wouldn't ask more of you than I know you can take," Suguru cooed, soft and persuasive against your lips. You felt a tendril slip over your mound, slipping between your wet folds and coiling snugly around your clit, massaging it, rolling it. You mewled into Suguru's mouth, and he swallowed it down hungrily, kissing your sighs and whimpers off your lips.

"Oh fuck, baby-- you feel so wet--"

With a jolt, you realised that Suguru's hands clasped you by the hips, nowhere near your core.

"You can't feel tha-- how can you--" Suguru bit your lip, punishingly hard and you squeaked as the tendril that pleasured you so tenderly squeezed your clit in reprimand, simultaneously.

"They're mine," Suguru hissed, "just like every godforsaken curse I swallow," and he pulled you lower so your core settled on his cockhead, the vines acting in symbiosis with him to drag your thighs apart, "just like you're mine. And you'll help me...won't you?"

You felt a thicker tendril snake up the inside of your thigh, ghosting at your entrance. With savage force and a growl of warning, Suguru ripped it aside, pressing his cockhead inside you just enough to prevent any other intrusions.

Suguru's orgasm hit him with obscene force and he collapsed into you, stuttering his hips just once, before cumming with a shout, his seed spattering into your entrance and puffy lips, dripping down your bound thighs in thick white streams. Suguru's moans elongated into staccato whimpers, before descending into a hiss of unbridled rage.

"That did fucking nothing," he growled, tangling his fingers into your hair, yanking your head to the side, sinking his sharp canines into the front of your throat. His cockhead still leapt just inside you, spurting weak trickles of cum, and Suguru almost cried to feel absolutely no relief from the burning need throbbing through his body.

You felt the vines squeeze around you, your nipples clamped and rolled until tears filled your eyes with ethereal blurred lights. Suguru reached his long arms behind you, grasping the tops of your shoulders to slam you down against him, impaling you, gasping and wildly overstimulated, onto his cum-lubricated cock.

The tendril rolling and flicking over your clit picked up speed, and you came, twisting against your restraints, crying Suguru's name. Suguru stared hungrily down to where he bottomed out in your pussy, watching and feeling it clench around his cock with shuddering bliss.

As the tendrils continued to work on your nipples and clit, your pleasure becoming frantic and painful, making you squirm and pull away from them, Suguru landed a stinging slap to your arse.

"Fucking take it. What good are you if you can't milk this thing out of me? More." Suguru lifted you just once, cruelly slamming you down again, warning you against your squirming, needing beyond need for you to clench around him again.

"Suguru-- please-- it's too much--" Your needy cries broke off into agonal gasps as you came again and Suguru's head dropped back, jaw slack as he felt your pussy clench and contract, sucking cum from him, surely enough to relieve him, surely--

"No, I-- no--" he panted, his eyes frantic, watching his seed leak out of you, now floppy and malleable in your corseting vines. Digging both hands into his hair, scratching at his own scalp, then moving his fingertips to his tongue to suck them with a ragged groan, Suguru grasped at straws for any stimulation to purge him of this monstrous need.

As he gripped himself, clutching and agonised, his eyes feverish, you could only moan stunted little moans as the vines around you lifted and dropped you, thrusting you savagely onto Suguru's length, still impossibly hard. You leaned forwards, kissing Suguru with urgency, trying to claw him back to you as his vines fucked you against him. He nipped at you, biting, no longer the gentle man you knew.

"Not hard enough-- shit, you can-- can do better than that--"

Finding some strength again, Suguru's hands dropped to your hips, kneading the plush fat there, trying to squeeze you around him, and he added to the strength of his vines, lifting and slamming you back onto him.

So lost were you both in chasing his release, neither of you noticed the forest around you gradually withering, fading and dying. The bioluminescence waxed and waned, throwing strange, marionette shadows around the room.

You were thankful for the embrace of the vines, unable to count how many times you had peaked from the constant stimulation of vines, masturbating you while Suguru kept your cunt and belly constantly filled. Suguru gasped and murmured into your neck, all unintelligible, unreasonable demands of you, and pleas for release.

As Suguru came with a ragged cry again, filling your aching pussy to the sound of wet, squelching thrusts, you felt the tendrils around your breasts and clit wither away, leaving your buds swollen and tender.

Suguru could barely stand, supported by a few remaining vines, still staring into you, so hungry but so spent. You felt him pull his cock out of you, dripping with his own seed, and you cried out to feel his cock replaced by a thick-tipped vine, pressing against your cervix, shunting his seed up into your belly.

Suguru's eyes rolled back to feel this bizarre vicarious pleasure, lazily letting the vine thrust his cum back into you, as the others twisted you, tilting so your back was parallel to the floor, your head tipped back, mouth level with his cock, still so red and aching.

"Is your throat tighter than your pussy?" Suguru pondered aloud, drunk and swaying with divine ecstasy as he fingered the sides of your jaw, slapping his cockhead against your lips and tongue. When you stuck out your tongue invitingly, swiping its tip across Suguru's slit, he gasped, shuddering and gritting his teeth.

"Let's find out," Suguru hissed, sliding his cock into your mouth, letting you taste your combined arousal, before thrusting with an injured moan into your throat, squeezing you, feeling the ridges of his cock move inside you as you gagged around him.

Pulling out enough to let you breathe, Suguru gripped you by the head and neck, grunting as he rutted into you, his pleasure doubled by his vine fucking his cum back into your pussy. Suguru's eyes fixed, fascinated, on the wet slip of this extra appendage inside you, how you reflexively humped against it as if it was his cock, how you mewled and whimpered at its intrusive tenderness.

As you twitched and shuddered, convulsing with overstimulation, Suguru came for the last time in a soundless gasp, his knees almost buckling beneath him as wave after wave of please rolled through him, washing away the dreadful, burning itch running through his brain and spine, leaving him exhausted, but finally un-fogged, finally in control.

With little warning, you were released from your bounds, and Suguru caught you, cradling you against him, and lowering you with a fractured groan to the floor. He sunk onto you, his mouth on your neck in prayer, kissing and soothing, blessing you with his relief.

"Would've died," he insisted, kissing your hair, your eyes, your nose, spooning you against him as the last remnants of this unwelcome forest embered away, rising like ashes on rising heat to fade into the night, "would've died-- died if you hadn't--"

You shushed Suguru, plaiting his fingers with yours across your chest as he shivered and heaved against you.

"Not...not your fault," you yawned, leaning into his kisses, "but like I keep telling you...you can't eat all of your problems away." Suguru laughed softly, nuzzling you.

"No...can fuck them away though, apparently."

Sticky and intertwined together on the floor, Suguru surveyed the cracked floorboards, the walls rended by vines, and trickles of damp running down from the ceiling. Lips puckering in dread against your neck, Suguru whispered.

"What, uhm...what do we tell the home insurance company?"

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By far the most unhinged thing I've ever written. I'll see myself out.

[realcube]

⋆˙⟡ KEEP IT ON

doing it in your halloween costume

characters ☾ all pro-heroes! bakugo, todoroki, izuku & iida

tws/tags ☾ fingering, oral (receiving) // plugs, vaginal // oral (giving) — MINORS DNI

BAKUGO KATSUKI ☾ x playboy bunny

you're straddling his lap while he's sat on the couch, bodies pressing into each other as your lips weave together.

his hand moves from fiddling with the black cotton tail of your bunny costume, to groping the flesh of your exposed ass, making you yelp slightly at his harsh touch. he kneads the skin in his palm, growling against your lips, "slutty fuckin' outfit."

just as you were about to deepen the kiss , he spins you around, then pushes down on your back so you are bent over with your ass up. he delivers a stern slap to your thigh, and the fiery sting causes you to gasp. "no tights or nothin'. whole ass out." he grumbles, idly slipping a finger underneath the fabric of the costume that was covering your pussy, pulling it to the side.

"and you thought i was gonna let you leave the house looking like that?" he scoffs, narrowing his eyes and wetting his lips at the sight of your tight cunt in front him. so damp and needy, begging for him already. he runs a calloused thumb over your soft folds, admiring your sweet form.

his hot breath tickles your sensitive skin as his face nears your pussy and soon, he plunges his tongue straight into your sopping hole. your back arches as he does so and a high-pitched whine is strung out of your throat. you can feel him smile at your noises, before he starts to feverishly thrust his tongue in and out of you.

relentlessly eating your pussy. the only time he pulls out is when he senses you are getting close, then he'll pull away to utter coarsely, "you're lucky you look hot otherwise i would've blown that costume right off you." even then, his tongue is instantly replaced with his thick fingers stuffed into your hole, fingering you impossibly fast until you come undone over his hand.

TODOROKI SHOTO ☾ x scary black cat

after you showed him your paws, cat ears, tail and tiny black dress, it was only natural that he'd have you bent over the bed while he hit it from behind.

his teeth grind together from so suppress the deep moan that was brimming in throat from how your tight cunt devoured him. his hips moved steadily against your ass; a moderate pace yet his thrusts were powerful enough that they would cause your body to shake if he didn't keep a hold of you by the hip.

with one hand, of course. as the other one was tempted by the fluffy black tailing laying on your leg. originally, he assumed the tail was clipped to the bottom of your short dress, but while he stroked it, he accidentally pulled a little too hard. and instead of unclasping from your dress, a staggered gasp was forced from you and your whole body tensed, as he could tell by your pussy clamping down on his dick.

his lips curled into a smile as he realised how that tail was connected, and he continued to toy with you, giving it a small tug every now and again, then relishing in your cute, flustered reactions.

"that good, kitty?" he teased in a low, hoarse voice.

you roll your eyes, partially at the stupid nickname but mostly due to the fierce sensations his cock was blazing through you repeatedly. the pillow your face was buried in muffled your sweet noises, so he was quick to grab a fitful of your hair and pull you up, so your face was hovering over the sheets and he could hear every single lewd moan that dripped from your sultry tongue.

you groaned in protest, as his harsh grip on your hair stung your scalp, but he was quick to redirect your attention by yanking your tail again.

TENYA IIDA ☾ x latex devil

as soon as tenya saw your costume, he was opposed.

he raved on about how offensive and profane it is, and how — as his wife — you are closely associated with him and therefore, if you are seen wearing something with such sacrilegious overtones, it will reflect poorly upon him and the entire ingenium lineage.

though it was hard not to notice the growing tent in his pants. a part of you suspected that his discontent was coming from a place of jealousy; maybe he just didn't want to admit that he doesn't want other guys seeing you in such a raunchy outfit.

regardless, you enjoy teasing him so when he demanded you take that costume off, you retorted saying that he'd have to rip it off your body.

he was taken aback at first, yet then he apprehensively tried; shuffling towards you so he could slowly undo the zipper at the back of your suit. but it only made it around halfway down your torso before you roped him in for a heated kiss.

he reciprocated for a while, and you were intimately locked together, moving in sync. your hands even began exploring each other's bodies and wandering astray, as he fumbled with your bra strap and you worked on undoing his belt buckle. albeit, the second you both part for air, he rasps, "i sitll think it might be a good idea for you to rem—"

as you throw his belt to the side, you drag down his trousers and drop to your knees, "please be quiet." you whine, then without warning, you welcome his whole length into your mouth, wrapping your smooth lips around his base and causing a deep moan to cough right out of him.

IZUKU MIDORIYA ☾ x nurse

he's sat on the couch and you're straddling his lap, facing him as you give him a check-up.

with the the metal part of your fake stethoscope pressed against his forehead, your eyebrows knit together in concentration as you listen to the silence, then you nod solemnly and drop it and let it dangle from your neck. "i see. you're heartbeat sounds fine." you politely inform him.

"thank you, nurse (y/n), but what's my heart doing in my head?" he chuckles, awkwardly clutching his scalp.

"you know, i'm not sure either." you shrug, as you both titter at the silliness of your whole charade. seeing him smile, you can't help but lean in and engage him in a long yet gentle kiss. equally, upon seeing your legs spread in that short nurse's dress, he can't help but hook an arm under your thigh, under the guise of pulling you close to deepen the kiss, while his true intention is to slip his fingers up your dress and massage the damp spot on your panties.

the feeling of his fingers stimulating your desperate heat causes you to moan into the kiss, prompting him to continue and tug your panties to the side, allowing his fingers to plunge right into your needy hole.

eventually, you fall back from the kiss and meet his heavy gaze, staring longingly into each other's eyes while you bounce steadily on his thick fingers, "you're giving me a check-up now?"

"guess so." he mouths.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

please tell us more about your mad theory about the tories getting rid of Sunak?

So the Tories currently have two (2) major problems.

Problem the first: they are about to lose power as soon as the GE rolls around, which it must do by January 2025 at the absolute latest. And the country is baying for one sooner.

This is very much preoccupying their minds at the minute. The rich and powerful will never willingly let you vote away their wealth and power, and to put this into perspective, the Tory party has ruled this country either jointly or alone for over a decade at this point. One of David Cameron's strategies as leader was to focus on recruitment of young and exciting diverse Tories into the party, which is how we got such stellar entries as Liz Truss and Priti Patel and Suella Braverman. These are MPs, therefore, who have never known political life outside of being on the winning side. They are seeing the end of the gravy train in sight, and they are taking it as well as you'd expect.

This is why the infighting is so rife (partly; bear with). The main thing they care about right now is making the party electable again, and fast.

But...

Problem the second: like all good fascist dictators, when Boris Johnson came to power, he fired everyone who said anything bad about him for disloyalty, and promoted all his personal friends. This is how we got such stellar entries as Nadine Dorries and Jacob Rees Mogg and Michael Fabricant. But THAT'S an issue because saying bad things about BJ is basically what intelligent people did, because the man was a useless blundering oaf who killed horrifying numbers of his own electorate via the world's second worst mismanagement of a global pandemic. So removing anyone who criticised him meant, in very real terms, removing the only Tories with half a brain who were even a fraction capable of doing joined up thinking required to run a country. Like, fuck every Tory with a cactus, obviously, but they did at least used to have competent, high calibre politicians, however evil and grotesque they were. David Cameron should die in a cesspit, but he was capable of remembering to put the bins out (before wage cutting the refuse collectors).

And therein lies the real problem: okay, BJ is gone, the party is in ruin, they're staring down the barrel of the most humiliating election defeat in history. They need someone competent that they all like who can take the reins and make people like them again.

But who's left?

There's no one. There's no one left. Not just because the remaining Tories are too low calibre to lead; they're too low calibre to even be able to pick someone without shrieking like cliquey little harridans on the playground about how the wrong in-group got in. Half of them are still BJ loyalists who hate anyone who criticise The Great Brexit Leader. The other half hate BJ for managing to make everyone hate the Tories so much that they're in this mess. Both halves are willing to sabotage the chosen leader of the other, locked in a battle of mutually assured destruction.

So how does Sunak fit into this?

He's unpopular in the party to a truly staggering degree, and not much better in the eyes of the public. He's tried to take a centrist stance on BJ, but that's actually just pissed off both sides. He did manage to stabilise the economy somewhat after the appalling mess Liz Truss threw it into, but he hasn't actually fixed it - we're still mid-cost of living crisis, we're still inexplicably not rich after Brexit like Boris prommied, inflation is still at an all time high as public services crash. The public hates him.

And he hasn't made the public stop hating the Tories. That petition calling for a GE is great, because it won't happen - BUT, it does force the issue to be debated in Parliament with opposition parties getting to stick the boot in, which means the humiliation continues. The Tories are starting to get desperate again.

And because this lot of Tories are, as mentioned, utterly terrible low-calibre political idiots, their response to this pressure has for the last four years been to oust the leader and get another.

And the first letters of no confidence have been sent into the 1922 Committee already. The devil moves fast, but knuckle dragging Tories with a fifth of a braincell each move faster.

And thanks to the absolute fucking state of them all... I cannot believe I'm saying these words, but genuinely the best person they have left who could possibly do the job is, of all fucking people, Michael Fucking Gove, and it won't even be him because he was mean to Boris once.

So yeah. I reckon Sunak may be out in six months. Fuck knows who we get instead. Probably Penny Mordaunt.

[letshavedeernnertogether]

Sleepyhead, part one

the plot is: you feel yourself very sleepy all the time, and alastor finds it adorable

part one, part two, part three, part four

tw: none, it's just cute

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

You felt cold. Your eyelashes trembled, you frowned and opened your eyes. Bloody red firmament was the first thing you saw, as you were lying on the ground. A bright pentagram crossed the sky, thin clouds flouted across it, and it looked like a piece of meat. There was a glaringly white spot in the left side, which you took for the sun at first, but then you thought it looked more like a planet. A planet with wings. You tried to find the sun or a moon, but in vain. You couldn't tell if it was day or night. A specific pungent smell hit your nose. The smell was extremely bad and you didn't even want to know what had caused it.

You sat up, slowly got to your feet and looked around: a desert with black sand and dead small trees. There was a city ahead. It was densely dotted with skyscrapers and simply high-rise buildings. You headed for it straight away.

You felt utter drowse, it was so strong, you walked some part of the way with your eyes closed. A minute couldn't pass without you yawning. You slowly moved your legs, staggering side to side, getting closer to the unknown city.

You thought it was a dream. A strange one, but very realistic. Last thing you remembered was that you were lying in your bed trying to fall asleep. Usually it never posed you any problems, but that time was different. You barely could lie just in one position, barely could keep your eyes closed, barely felt drowse.

And now you were extremely sleepy. All you wanted to do was lie down on the hot sand and sleep. But nevertheless you continued your way.

Getting closer, you saw a high building on the hill just in the border of the city. You descried a neon sign on the roof of the building: "Hazbin Hotel". So, there was a refuge in such a strange place that looked like hell. You had no money in the pockets of your pyjamas, of course, but you hoped, you would be let to stay for a night in the smallest room under the stairs for free.

The closer you reached the city, the louder became screams and explosions, like a war was waged in the city. In normal situation you would feel fear, but it was a dream, so why should you be afraid?

You stood in front of a street-door with strained-glass windows depicting apples, snakes and eyes. Yawning one more time, you opened the door and entered.

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Honeyed soft light of old chandeliers flooded the hotel lobby. A red carpet covered the floor and the birfucated stairs. On the walls with difficult pattern, in which you recognized snakes, hung many painting. It was quiet. Only rustle of your steps on the soft carpet broke the silence. Suddenly you heard a quiet jazz melody somewhere from the left. You turned your head to the side and saw a big black cat at the bar. A cat with wings. And moreover he had a top hat and a red bow tie on his white chest. He was on the place of a barman and poured alcohol in a glass for himself.

Yeah, what a strange dream you had, but the strangest thing was that you couldn't wake up. Usually, when you understood that you were in a dream you immediately woke up. But now you couldn't.

The cat noticed you and looked at you. His stare was vacant, and you understood he was drunk. If a cat could drink, than he could speak too, right? You came up to the bar and asked,

"Excums me, is this a hotel? The Hazbin hotel?"

The cat blinked twice and answered in the affirmative. His voice was deep and low. It reminded black velvet.

"How can I get a room here?"

"Do you want a room?" He frowned. He was looking at you with a blend of suspicon and disbelief.

"Yeah... This is the hotel, isn't it?" You placed your hands at the counter, "Where is reception?"

A slowly saxophone melody hovered between you, making this conversation more surreal.

The cat poured an amber-coloured liquid in his glass, drank it, looked at you again and smirked.

"So, you wanna be redeemed?"

You were irritated at this question. What it did actually mean? You just wanted to sleep, you wanted it so bad, you could kill for having a chance to take to bed.

"I just want a room," You said, gritted your teeth.

"So you don't know?" He said without hiding his smile.

The cat started to dust the counter, and as you didn't answer anything, he continued,

"This is not just a hotel. Living here ain't the main point. The princess of hell founded it on to give all the sinners a chance to get a redemption and go to heaven. So, you're welcome here, but only if you want be better." He glanced at you with a mocking sparkle in his eyes. A smile played at a corner of his mouth. It was clear, that he just repeated the words, he heard million times before, from a host of the hotel maybe, and it seemed funny to him. But not for you. What was the point of all of this? Nevertheless, you needed a room and you wanted to get it by all costs.

"I wouldn't be mind to be better... And to be redeemed," You said seriously. If it could bring you to bed...

"Oh, really?" He raised his red eyebrows, which seemed to be feathers.

Suddenly a high female voice exclaimed from the stairs, "Vaggie, I tell you, someone has come! I saw them in the window!"

You turned to the voice and saw two young women. They noticed you too and opened their eyes in surprise. One of them, a tall, ruddy-cheecked blonde in red jacket and the same colour trousers, smiled widely, showing her white sharp fangs. The other one, with grey skin and white long hair, frowned and took out a spear from somewhere.

They two quickly went down to you, but the blonde was much faster, and as she appeared towards you, she took your hands,

"Welcome!!! I'm Charlie, the founder of this hotel! I'm so glad you've come here!" She was so happy, you wouldn't been surprised, if she'd exploded with sparkles and spangles.

"I'm (Y/n)."

"What a beautiful name! Fits you so well!"

The other girl came up to you, still holding the spear, but not going to attack, "Charlie, we don't even know why they had came here. Maybe they've lost."

"I haven't actually lost. I'm here to redeem." You said loudly. You heard Charlie, she said she was the founder of this place, so it depended on her, whether would you stay here for a night. And also you remembered what that cat told you. The princess of hell founded it on. So you decided to be polite with this young woman. You didn't want to have an enemy in the face of the princess of hell even in your dream.

After your words were said the smile on the Charlie's face grew even bigger, her eyes filled with tears, and she pressed you to her chest in a tight embrace.

"I'm so so so so so so so glaaaaaad!"

"I would be glad too," You barely moaned in her firm hug, "but I'm afraid you'll rather strangle me."

"Uh, sorry!" She let you go straight away.

Charlie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "It's not like... Well, I mean, it's not that this place is very unpopular or avoided, but it's like not everyday somebody comes here..." Her shoulders slumped and you saw sadness in her eyes. Vaggie gently put her hand on Charlie's shoulder with a soft smile, "Charlie..."

The young woman looked at her and a wide smile shone on her face again.

"Anyway," She said to you, "Welcome to hell! And to Hazbin Hotel! So you can be welcomed lately in heaven!" She almost sang the last word.

Hell? So you understood all rightly. It was hell. A dream about a hotel in hell. Well, why not? Maybe when you'd wake up you should write a book about it?

"Hell?" You asked.

"Yes! You're a new one here, I believe?"

You unsurely nodded. Somehow you started to doubt that it was only a dream. You felt cold. After all it was too real. You could swear you had never heard that jazz melody from the radio, you smelled Charlie's apple perfume, you felt her embrace, and you were sleepy like you were kissed by Mortheus himself. But people don't feel themselves sleepy in their dreams, do they?

But to be in hell you must to be dead. Were you dead?

"Am I dead?" You felt cold inside of you, but it didn't help you to overcome another yawn.

Charlie and Vaggie looked at you with sympathy.

"Yeeaaahhh, you are, I'm very sorry," Said Charlie with an apologetic smile.

You tried to remember, what had happened before you opened your eyes and saw the red sky.

You spent your whole day in your bed, daydreaming, reading books and sleeping. Just like always. You spent your whole life avoiding reality. Fantasies, fictions, daydreams were the only refuge from the horrors of the world you lived in.

"I thought I was too young to die during the sleep..." You pronounced.

Charlie covered her mouth with her palm, "Oh! This must be very... Sudden for you."

"Look at this from the other side. You didn't suffer," Said Vaggie.

You yawned very widely. Yes, you didn't suffer when you died, but now you were probably cursed to never have enough of sleep.

"May I get a room?" You were so tired. What's the matter thinking about your death. It was more important to find a bed. You could think about your death and curse later.

Charlie glanced at you.

"Oh, damn, yes, sure! It's very late already, and of course you need a room!"

"Thank you," You smiled. Getting a bed had never been so difficult.

Charlie took a key from the cell near the empty one, and you three, Charlie, Vaggie and you, headed for the stairs. You glanced back to look at the barcat again. He raised his glass, looking at you, like he was drinking to you. You turned away and asked Charlie about him.

Charlie stopped and exclaimed, "Oh, shit, I absolutely forgot about it! We need to make a tour around the hotel!"

"Charlie," Said Vaggie, "We can do it tomorrow. I'm afraid, our new guest is about to fall asleep in any moment."

"You right." You took the key out from Charlie's hand and turned away.

"What are you doing?" Exclaimed Charlie.

Still going forward you turned your head to Charlie and said, "I'm very grateful for both of you, really," You stopped, "but now I just want to be alone" To sleep, you thought, "to accept the fact I'm dead now," You said. "It's not hard to find a right room, when I know the floor and the number, so don't worry, I can handle it. Good night, girls!" You waved your hand and disappeared in shadowed corridor.

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

You slowly walked forward along the corridor. It seemed endless, though you turned time after time to the left or right. Art Deco lamps glowed dimly, filling the place with an amber light. Sometimes golden candlesticks hung on the walls instead of lamps. There were candles on them; they burned, but wax didn't drip from them. The walls were crimson, and so was the carpet. Although the corridor and the entire hotel were buried in warm colours, goosebumps ran down your skin. Especially in this quiet and dark corridor. It seemed that this place was uninhabited. But judging by the number of empty cells for keys at the reception, at least six or seven people lived here. “Maybe they just opened recently?” You thought yawning again.

You turned to the left again and went up one floor. Here, on one of the upper floors, your room was supposed to be.

Suddenly you heard a melody. You stopped and listened. A piano sounded off quietly and melancholy somewhere in the distance. Music led you forward. You walked past the room with your number. The melody became louder, and now you heard singing. A male voice sang some old song in French. You stopped for a second and then went further.

The lights flickered, and you heard something, what sounded like a crackling radio. You turned to the right and realized, that the melody was coming from the far door on the right. You stopped in front of this door. The sound wasn't clear, like someone was listening to an old radio or gramophone. You leaned your back against the door and began to listen. It was a beautiful and very old song. The melody lulled you. The man’s voice was so beautiful and bewitching, that you forgot all your worries, and drowsiness enveloped you again. But now the feeling of sleep did not press on you, did not suffocate you, sleep gently hugged you by the shoulders and let you rest your tired head on its chest. You felt cosiness and comfort. What a beautiful song... What a beautiful voice... The refrain began, and the voice became louder. You closed your eyes and slowly sank onto the carpet.

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Alastor took his hands away from the piano and turned his head to the door. Someone had been standing behind it for several minutes already. How dare they? He immediately felt their presence but did nothing, hoping they'd leave. But no.

Alastor stood up, took a sip of water to moisten the throat after the long singing, and headed for the door. The was silence. He expected he would hear the steps running away, because now it was obviously, that he knew they were there and they'd disturbed him. So it was better for them to make off. But there was silence.

Alastor opened the door and saw nothing. Something fell at his feet. He looked down and saw the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

A young lady lay at his feet. Her skin was velvet black as night sky and starred. Milliards of tiny stars shone on her arms, hands, and neck. Her hair was glaringly white and fluffy as a cloud. The hair shone with soft moon-like light in the candlelit room. She was wearing a silver pajamas with a pattern of little moons. The night herself, he was captivated with her.

Alastor knelt down in front of you and gently put hair from your face. It shimmered with tiny stars just like all of your body. Your face was calm, you slept well. Your chest slowly upped and downed with every breath.

Alastor studied you just with his eyes. How did you end up here? You didn't look like a demon — too beautiful, but you weren't an angel either — too nocturnal.

Alastor noticed that you had something in your hand. He carefully unclenched your fingers and saw a key. So, a new guest? And living so close to him?

Alastor smirked to his thoughts.

"There's no way you'll sleep on the floor, my dear," He wispered.

He took you in his arms and left the room.

You pressed your head to his shoulder and wispered something. You were light as a feather. Alastor headed for the room with the number that was on the key in your hand. You yawned in sleep, and wispered something again, that made Alastor softly chuckle.

He made the door of your room opened and he entered. Alastor put you to bed and wanted to straightened up, but your hands embraced his neck. He leaned on his hands and hung over you so as not to fall.

On your eyelids he saw a big amount of stars and violet fog, like a little universe slowly whirled on your eyes.

Your hands slipped from his neck, but Alastor stayed still. Then he sat next to you. His hand ran through your hair.

"Suppose I am the guard of your dreams now?" Said Alastor to himself.

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

You woke up, yawning widely and stretching yourself. You thought, that you had never had such a good sleep. But then you opened your eyes and found yourself in an unfamiliar place. It was a bedroom, quite big and beautiful bedroom in violet, blue and silver colours. You looked at your hands: black and starred, just like yesterday. So you still was in hell, still dead. Or was it better to say, already?

You yawned again and got out of your bed. In the bathroom you saw new you. "Night" was your first thought. Maybe spending your whole life in sleep was a sin, because you once heard, that despondency, that led you to daydreams, was a deadly sin... And moreover you died in the middle of the night during your sleep. Could it be the reason why you looked like a daughter of Nyx?

In a wardrobe you found a big amount of clothes that suited you just perfect. Not only in your size, but it also suited to your appearance. There were a grey pinstriped suit, long skirts, warm sweaters, shirts. All was in dark blue, silver or black colours. You found a lot of different ties and bow ties, kerchieves, gloves. Somebody did a good job with your wardrobe. You changed clothes and only now noticed the clock above the bed. It was a midday already. You hastened to leave your room.

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Walking down the main stairs you heard Charlie's voice.

"Here you are, (Y/n)! Good morning! or good afternoon already... Nevermind!" She waved her hand, "You can go to the dinning room and have breakfast. I asked Alastor to cook another helping. He was surprised that we have a new guest hahaha! And after you finishing your meal, go back here, we're going to do some exercises," Charlie looked to the side, where several demons were sitting, "and we will do it together!"

Last words she said with a forced smile, almost growling. Apparently, someone didn’t want to do these exercises together. You saw yesterday's cat among them.

After finishing breakfast (oh, how delicious it was) you went to the living room, where all the residents had already gathered.

You were introduced to the demons in front of you. Niffty was a maid, she gave you a cute smile, but you noticed a sharp big knife in her hand. Nobody seemed to care about it, so didn't you.

Angel Dust, the spider, winked at you with a smile. He was the first resident of this hotel.

Husk, the cat demon, he was a barman. He nodded you, when Charlie said his name to you.

And Sir Pentious, another resident. He smiled to you, and his smile seemed the most warm and not assumed.

"And where is Alastor?" Said Charlie looking around, "Oh, asked him to come and join us."

You saw a big shadow behind her. It took a shape of a tall man with a cane, and he appeared.

"Alastor," You guessed. This name suited him, it had something devilish in its sound, and it sorted well with his appearance. Especially with his ear-to-ear smile with big sharp yellow teeth. A thought of being bitten by him fleeted your mind, but you shook your head.

"Alalstor, this is our new guest, (Y/n)!" Said Charlie with a big smile, pointing with her two hands at you.

Alalstor came up to you and gave you a hand, "It's a pleasure to be meeting you, dear!"

You shook hands.

His voice seemed familiar to you, but you couldn't understand why. He spoke with transatlantic accent and with radio sound. It was strange, but you liked how it sounded.

"Well, let's begin our exercises. All" Said Charlie, growling on the last word again. Angel Dust rolled up his eyes.

You sat on a couch near Alastor. In front of you on other couch sat Angel and Husk. Vaggie stood near Charlie, who was explaining the rules of to-redeem-game. Sir Pentious sat on the floor near Husk, and Niffty, the maid, sat on the arm of the couch near Alastor.

At first you tried to listen to Charlie, to all her explanations why it was so important to be honest, and how the following exercise would teach you to trust each other and to be frank. But somehow you couldn't keep your eyes opened anymore and you hadn't noticed how you fallen asleep.

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Angel poked Husk with his elbow and said, "Are my eyes deceiving me?"

Husk had been watching in the same direction for four minutes already and still couldn't believe in what he saw.

"What d'ya think? How long does she have left?"

"No more than thirty seconds, when she wakes," Husk replied phlegmatically.

"What? What are you looking at?" Asked Charlie throwing her hands. These two hadn't listened to her for several minutes and just stared at one point.

At the same time Angel and Husk pointed out the direction, where you were sitting. Charlie turned back and saw Alastor and you, putting your head on his shoulder. You were sleeping.

Everybody was staring in confusion at you and Alastor. Nobody had noticed, when you fell asleep and leaned against Alastor. He didn't understand at first what was that. Just something restet against his shoulder. And when he glanced down right, he saw your crown.

And he didn't dare move.

Charlie opened her mouth to say something, but Alastor interrupted her, "Shh... Don't you see, our new guest is resting?"

Nobody could understand what was hidden behind his sly smile and this half closed eyes.

You lifted your head a little to make yourself more comfortable, and then you tried to bury your face in his arm but slipped off.

You opened your eyes and saw wide smiling face with red glowing eyes leaning over you. Alastor looked down at you. The light of a chandelier behind his head looked like a halo. It was a strange combination with his antlers and deer ears. His red eyes shone and his yellow teeth seemed did the same.

Suddenly you understood why he was looking down on you, and why you saw ceiling behind him. You were lying on his knees.

You quickly sat up, almost hit his head, and began to apologize.

"Hahaha" Alastor laughed, "don't worry, my dear, I know a great method to deal with sleepiness." He stood up and said without looking back at you, "Follow me."

Only now you noticed that all the residents were staring at you, someone with their eyes wide opened, someone with a smirk. You apologized and followed Alastor.

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

While Alastor was making coffee for you, you were watching him, sitting at a table, resting your head on your arm. This man was extremely tall, his movements were elegant but a little bit too sharp. The kitchen filled with coffee aroma.

You were following his movements, when he said, "It's oddly, dear, that fourteen hours of sleep were not enough for you."

"How do you know, how long I slept?"

He chuckled, "I know not only when you fell asleep, my dear, but also when you ended up in bed."

He turned to you with a mug of hot coffee in his hand. He came up to you and put the mug on the table. There was an inscription: "Sleepaholic."

Yeah, how funny.

You looked up at Alastor. He was smiling as always. His voice, these words he said, the fact you didn't remember how you got to your bed...

"Did I..? Did I yesterday..?" You began hesitatingly. You didn't want to say it aloud, hoping that Alastor would finish your sentence. But he was silent. He glanced at you, obviously enjoying with your confusion.

"Did I fall asleep at your door yesterday?" You said very quickly.

"You did," He answered with a satisfied smile and leaned closer to you, "Drink it, dear, I don't need another body of a somnabulist at my threshold."

You quickly drank the strongest coffee you'd ever had, and you two returned to the living-room

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

As you were sitting on the couch near Alastor, and Charlie was leading the exercises, you felt boredom suddenly, and your eyes began to close. You opened them wider and tried to focus on what Charlie was saying, but you could no longer understand anything. You covered your eyes and remembered the yesterday's evening. That song played in your head again. It was so beautiful, so charming... And it was sang by the man, who was sitting next to you right now.

You opened your eyes and looked at Alastor with a tired gaze. Angel answered something to Charlie, but you didn’t listen. You idly and yet with curiosity looked over Alastor from head to toe. Despite his sinister and dark spirit, that you felt in him, you couldn't deny that you were attracted to him. His charm was beguiling, it's true.

You covered your eyes again and turned away. You didn't notice how Alastor quietly moved closer to you.

"I think, coffee doesn't work on me," You mumbled.

"Hmm?" Alastor leaned closer to hear what you said, but you didn't repeat your words.

Your eyes closed again and you saw him, making coffee for you. You felt that bitter smell again. Then you saw his face, the moment when you woke up on his knees. The vision disappeared and you saw Alastor carrying you into your room in his arms. The piano sounded in your head again and you felt rocking, as if you were a baby in your mother's arms, being sung to in a lullaby. You felt something in right side of you and leaned against it. A soft fabric touched your face, you felt a bitter-salty scent mixed with fur and forest smell. You felt warmth.

In your dream you lay on bed and were kept in warmth in someone's arms. You breathed in the same smell. Somebody patted your head and you felt someone's breath on your crown. An old song was playing on a radio; it drowned in static.

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Charlie stopped talking and looked in your direction. So did everybody.

You were sleeping on Alastor's shoulder again, cuddling very close up to him and embracing his forearm. He was looking at you with the softest gaze everyone had ever seen on him. He patted your head and said not taking his eyes off you, "Our guest is indeed a sleepyhead."

He looked up at everyone, "Don't you dare to disturb her, for I will make everyone of you fall into eternal sleep," His eyes turned into radio dials, his voice became lower and more static, "unable to wake up from the nightmare I cause."

You cuddled closer to Alastor and smiled in sleep. He backed to his normal form again. A quiet old melody played from his staff.

Charlie broke the silence, "Uhh, okay..." She said with a forced smile.

Alastor glanced at her, and then embraced you, and you both sank into the shadow.

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

@noraunor

[silvergyus]

thoughts on txt touching themselves while looking at their s/o's selfies? what do they moan under their breath? what kinda selfies do they look at? IDK!! and need to know ur thoughts :3

hehe this is such a fun ask! thank u for sending!! I hope I captured what you were thinking

YEONJUN

loves selfies in clothes he bought you. makes him a little possessive, but knowing he treated you with that pretty top, pretty bra peeking out the top gets him going. bonus points if you send him mirror selfies in lingerie he bought you. bonus bonus points if you're wearing a necklace he bought you. his favorite is the one your sent of your necklace with his initials dangling between your tits. the type to send you videos of his pretty noises whenever he gets off without you. black screen but you can hear his heavy breaths and pinched whines. imo he's the whiniest of all the boys. gets louder and needier as he gets closer. always texts you goodnight after.

SOOBIN

any selfie with a lot of cleavage tbh. he's pretty basic. man loves your boobs. loves selfies of you sitting, either from above or in a mirror. likes seeing your boobs and the bonus squish of your thighs. I feel like he'd like knee socks so bonus points if you're wearing those. please make sure to include the plush thigh at the top of the sock. like yeonjun, loves seeing your necklace dangling between your tits. likes it when you look cute and sexy at the same time. soft smile, big eyes, looking up at the camera like you look up at him his breathing gets so heavy and his voice drops. muttering quietly to himself in the dark of his room as he stares at your picture on his screen. pretty selfie you took, not even to tease him, just a pretty pic for your insta story. you're wearing his favorite top, lowcut to show off just about everything but your nipples. he thinks about how hard they get for him, how soft your skin is when he buries his face between your boobs. stays pretty quiet until he cums, a loud, staggering moan falling from his lips. blushes later when you ask if he liked the pic you posted.

BEOMGYU

honestly the selfie type doesn't matter with him. when he misses you he misses you. is the type of person to save your pics in a folder titled "tax returns 2022" like it isn't image files saved in his gallery. keeps his voice low, but makes the most total noises. voice starts off deep but his lil "ah, ah!"s betray him when they increase in pitch. has the loudest wet sounds as he strokes with the heaviest glob of spit. has occasionally sent you voice messages of him getting off and they are sinful. talks you through everything he's doing, all the while you can hear the strokes, hear his breathing getting more ragged, hear his deep voice struggle against his high-pitched whines. cums with a loud whine. breathes heavily into the mic for a few seconds, catching his breath, before asking for you to return the favor.

TAEHYUN

someone once said tyun likes giving you money to get your nails done so your hands look extra pretty wrapped around his cock and I personally haven't stopped thinking about that ever since. loves your hands. you know that pose he does where he tugs his lip down a bit? do that and he'll save the image for alone in his bed on tour. hands on your chest, hands on your face, hands on your thighs. anything with your hands. bonus points if you send him pics of you touching yourself. your pretty fingers in your cunt make him crazy. he cums thinking about the noises you make when it's his fingers inside you. strokes his cock as close as he can to the way you do. imagines your hands instead. really good at staying quiet but listen closely and you'll catch the "mmf, mmph" he tries to bite back.

HUENINGKAI

also loves any picture where you look cute. send him a pic of you in pink and ruffles and he'll be blushing, hiding his face behind his hoodie sleeves, and rushing off to take care of the tent in his pants. LOVES to see you in panties. doesn't matter if it's expensive lingerie or your regular everyday pairs. loves your hips, ass, thighs, and tummy and your panties are all those parts in one pic. thinks he's quieter than he really is. taehyun was such a good roommate never bringing it up, but now kai isn't as quiet as he thinks. and he's only gotten louder since getting his own room. the hiss when he first grabs his cock is audible from outside the door. little "oh"s moaned out with the deepest voice when he zooms in on the way your panties squeeze against your tummy and thighs. turns his head into the pillow to stifle his moans as he thinks about you riding him.

[sc4llywag]

Since I got Tumblr and have free range to rant however I want, its time for the Assassin's Creed main characters and how they walk post!!!

With each of the games, they change the main characters walking animation to fit their vibe and I need to be able to study them beheehe

Desmond

I don't have too much to say about Desmond's other than his is simple and similar to Ezio's and Altaïr's and I like to think that this is due to the bleeding effect(it happened to me too I walk like the assassin's all the time) his is a little more confined and he keeps his arms closer to himself so he's very typical in the way he walks

Altaïr

In his walk he has a sway to his hips and steady hands(probably to keep himself ready for any assassination), but goddamn the SWAY I never noticed it.

His shoulders also sway with his walk and I love how fluid he is in general, this ties back to his robes for me and how flowy they are to show the grace of an assassin in high profile but when low profile they stay to his sides and he's all in the shadows and I REALLY love that about him.

Ezio

This gif is all I could find so i can't really remember if Ezio's walk is different in Ac2 from Altaïr's because ubisoft is the king of recycling things but whatever. He still has the outward stance but I do notice his head is pointed low to try and keep himself hidden(shadows shit be like) but ofc hes holding the apple here so it's hard to tell if he's trying to swing his arm a lot lol, anyway body language is important to Ezio so hes very good at looking broody as well as fluid in his movements

Connor

(Walk Cycle Research | PKlover4078)

My man my man my man my man😍‼️‼️

The way Connor walks with his hands stretched out and then clenching his fists every moment because he's always ready for a fight goddamn this MF could take me in an alleyway and I'd be happy. I'd like to note with this gif, it doesn't show his slow slow walk and I remember it pretty well, he has a slight cautious aura in his walk, he's really careful in his foot placement(I think) and he's super awesome and I love him a lot. Since we have him running I'd like to talk about that too. He has such an efficient sprint it's so mesmerizing, he keeps his head low and just fuckin vrooms across the colonies<3

Aveline

You can barely see her here bc the damn community doesn't care for Aveline much but I like her even tho I haven't played Liberation, I enjoy the way she walks in a proper manner and she's got that strut the runway strut is everything. I also like how she has a wider swing in her arms, more carefree and comfortable.

Edward

This is such a great quality gif thanks so much Ac fandom!!

Anyway, I really love the difference in Edwards walk compared to the rest of the assassins because he's a pirate, he hasn't had the teaching of grace and secrecy. Therefore his walk is staggering in his footwork but still proper bc he's a sword fighter and very good at it. In a longer gif you'd be able to tell but his footing is a little messy, showing that drunken sailor pirate personality shows in his walk. He has a close arm swing due to him always needing to be close to his weapons, ready for a fight(like his grandson<3)

Haytham

I can barely see how he's walking but I'm pretty sure he had his hand on his sword hilt which says so much abt his character, again always being ready for a fight. He has a very straight posture due to his pompous nature, quick in his form to be efficient because why walk if you don't look proper and efficient?

Shay

Ok he's a Templar and so is Haytham but fuck you I love them.

His walk is so GOOD his walk has a heavy step and he's very prominent, got that straight posture again, not much to say about his arm sway other than the added shoulder sway, love that for him bc he's just so intimidating.

(For reasons I'm not doing Arno, Evie, Jacob, Kassandra, and Eivor since I haven't played their games)

Bayek

Bayek's walk is very different from every other assassin and that makes me love him so much more. He feels very carefree and relaxed but when in combat good lord does he go off!! He puts more sway in his arms than his hips and that's probably why he has a combat centered walk, like Edward.

If you've reached the end thank you for reading my rambling ass get over excited over walk cycle animations :) follow for more rambling!!

[maximumzombiecreator]

I would actually like to know what you consider the basics of improv to be! If nothing else, you phrase these things really well and in ways I haven't heard before, and I'm also aware there's a lot of things I don't know (I'm in a student run college improv group, our theory might be a bit lacking)

Be glad to. A lot of improv stuff is just oral tradition at this point, passed down in musty school drama rooms and community centers, so everyone has to pick it up somewhere. When I've taught people before, beyond the basic definition of what an improv scene looks like, I usually focus on a set of do's and don'ts.

Do's:

Make offers, and make them good offers. A good offer should be strong and elegant, like a power lifter in a ball gown.

Broadly speaking, I'd say the strength of an offer refers to how much it establishes about the scene, and how much what it establishes is different from a theoretical "default" scene. Typically, you think about how much an offer is establishing in terms of the questions words: who are the characters, what are they doing, where are they, etc. An offer that establishes "two characters who are old friends since high school meeting up at a coffee shop to catch up" is establishing a lot, but it's still a weak offer because it's such a typical scene. You're not adding much that can't just be taken for granted.

When I say a good offer should be elegant, I mean that it should be as compact as possible while still doing a lot. The typical inelegant offer is verbose and unnatural. A character walks into a scene and says, "Hey, big brother Billy, I hope you're recovering from the illness you've had for the last six months, ever since our father died," or some other expository nightmare.

So, the best offers are both. They create a lot of unique, interesting details about the scene, and they do it quickly. Let's say you stagger into the scene, miming carrying something under your arm, and say, "Doctor! I've been decapitated again!" In five words, you've established who you and another character are, where you are, and why, and you've implied a lot of very unusual details about the scene, world, and your character's history.

When thinking about elegant offers, it's also worth noting that a lot of offers that you should be making are physical. Depending on the type of improv you're doing, you might be physically embodying objects and the environment, and if you're doing background like that you can add a ton of detail that the audience can pick up without friction. But even if you're not, you can establish location through miming actions, you can create details about your character through how you walk and hold your body, you can endow others with traits through how you physically react to them.

That brings us to the next do: make strong character choices and enhance other actors' characters. People have written whole books on what comprises a "strong character" but for improv purposes I'd focus on three details: quirks, status, and connections.

Quirks are fairly straightforward: what makes this character unusual? Establishing character quirks is the focus of a lot of improv games and exercises, and the best quirks are quick to establish, significantly inform the character, and are handled with enough sincerity to make the character compelling rather than only funny.

Status refers to how powerful and important a character is. High status characters will command the room, low status characters will be ignored or mistreated. Status might shift over the course of a scene. The sheriff is a high status character until the king shows up, for example. Status might seem like an obvious thing to figure out from a character's role, but it's useful to play with it. What does a low status king look like? What does an employee-boss scene look like if you decide your employee is higher status than the boss?

Connections refer to the relationships between characters. This is going to drive scenes more than most other character details, and you almost always want to avoid unconnected characters. Choosing a connection to an existing character is a very good first choice when entering a scene, as it should immediately suggest a direction for the scene to take. This is also a reason to favour unusual connections. If two actors are in a scene where they're arguing about a fender bender they've been in, you could choose to enter as one of their friends, but it'll be far more dynamic if you choose a more unusual connection. What if you're one of their anger management therapists? Their boss? Their dominatrix?

In addition to creating your own character, you should add to other actors' characters. The main way you do this is endowment, giving the character traits through your offers. Direct endowment is when you simply ascribe them a trait. If you say, "Bill, you've been mayor for the last ten years," then you're obviously giving them the trait of "mayor." But there's also indirect endowment, where you add something to a character through part of how you react to them. If you flinch when another character moves suddenly, you're endowing them with the traits of being dangerous and erratic. If you speak to them very slowly and simply, you're implying something about how intelligent your character perceives them to be.

Putting it all together, the last big thing to do is build up. There can be a temptation in improv to build out, to add new details to scenes that sort of sprawl outward from the original premise. Try to avoid that. When you add new details, make them ones that build on the existing details. Instead of adding new tensions or conflicts, raise the stakes of existing ones. Reincorporate and re-contextualize things that have already been established. Incorporate audience suggestions repeatedly, using them to colour other offers.

Don'ts:

No blocking. This is the one even people who don't know improv know. If someone adds something to the scene, go with it. Don't reject or ignore offers, incorporate and build on them.

No wimping. Whatever the scene is, whatever your character is, whatever offers are made, fully commit. Bring all your energy to it. If someone says your character is on fire, don't just stop, drop, and roll and then go back to whatever else was going on. That's wimping. Be the most on fire that you can be.

No dithering. When you're in a scene, always be adding to it or moving it forward. Saying something that just fills space, at best makes a joke, and doesn't add to the scene is bad form, it doesn't give other actors anything new to work with. If you're dithering, you're forcing other actors to pick up the slack. This is called "gagging" if you're being funny by not adding to the scene, and is a great way to be popular with the audience and have everyone else hate you, don't be that person.

Don't make yourself look good at the expense of your scene partners. It's okay to get laughs at the expense of other characters, but not at the expense of other actors. Help others get into the scene, develop their characters, and give them things to respond to, add onto their offers.

Related to the above, don't steal the spotlight. If there's a scene going on that you're not the focus of, you should be trying to figure out how to enhance what's going on. Everyone can tell when an actor can't bear to be in a supporting role, and it's not a cute look.

More than anything, don't betray the trust of other performers. All theatre requires trust, but improv requires so much trust. If you lose that trust, you're done, you've got nothing.

[luvzpagie]

“TELL YOUR BOYFRIEND THAT YA SINGLE” — J.W

𝜗𝜚 ➵ i don’t condone cheating but it’s for the plot yall 😊😊😊! n i found out that someone is posting my work on wp..

“ju i don’t know, he’s always bitching about nothing”. you and your on and off boyfriend had gotten in an argument for the third time this week, you were completely over it. “and he brings you up every argument”

your boyfriend had every right to, you guys were definitely fucking on the low, your boyfriend just couldn’t satisfy you the way juju does, he can’t even make you cum.

“leave him” juju shrugged, she couldn’t cared less about him. you couldn’t just leave him.. you didn’t want to break his heart. even though there were many arguments, he adored you.

she pulled you onto her lap, placing gently kisses on your neck. you gasped at the feeling, melting into her. “are you gonna leave him?” juju rasped.

“i can’t..” you whined, ju sucked at your neck leaving love marks all over. “why not, hm?” you ignored the question too busy focused on her fingers pulling at the elastic of your shorts.

her hand slid in your pants, past your panties. you were already soaked, your hips buck as juju glided her finger tips up and down your slit.

her free hand grabbed onto your throat, pulling you closer for a kiss. before you could even kiss back, she inserted her long finger into your drenched pussy.

you gasp against her lips as you try kiss her back, faint sound of your cunt sploshing. and it turns juju on even more.

"answer my question mama" a smirk plastered on her face. “i-i can’t.. fuckk- don’t wanna hi-his heart” you moan.

juju adds another finger slowly sliding in and out of you. it’s almost like torture, your whines become louder as you melt into her.

“yeah? lemme change your mind”

“faster.. ju p-please” you beg, you move your hips frantically trying to ride her fingers. she speeds up, ju curls up her fingers doing a come here motion. oh how good this felt.

you lean your head on her shoulder, your eyes shut tight. you lips between your teeth biting down hard. your breathing becomes staggered as your climax gets closer.

“oh my gosh- ju!” you squeal.

juju’s thumb draws eight figures on your throbbing clit, your eyes shoot wide open, bulging out of your head. you clench around her fingers. a light sheet of sweat covers your forehead.

“i bet he can’t even get you this wet..” her sly smile strong on her face, she knew what she was doing.

“holy fuck- i’m close!” your moans now high pitched, juju fingers hitting the spot that made you feel all gummy. your tummy twisting with butterflies.

“ju..pleasepleaseplease-” you babble, your toes curl at your release, your body tingles all over almost as if you’re burning.

juju pulls her hand out of your pants, instantly sucking your sweet juices off ending it with a “pop!” sound, you fall back in the bed catching your breath.

“well, did that change your mind?” she raises an eyebrow. you giggled a little searching for your phone.

you pick up your phone, your acrylic nails clacking against it as you press your boyfriend’s contact. your phone is pressed to your ear as it rung. he answered. well here we go!

“hello?”

“yeah i’m okay.. but i think we should break up”

[babyjakes]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | edging

pairing | dom!steve rogers x sub!reader

warnings | dom/sub relationship. stevie - he's so stern but sweet i love him :'). daddy kink (steve and reader refer to him as ‘daddy.) restraints. fingering. toy use (magic wand.) edging, orgasm control. crying. lots of praise and talking reader through it. some aftercare.

word count | 670

thinking about how a stricter dom!steve looooves edging you, his sweet little subby baby 🥺

he lays you out spread nice and wide on the bed, securing your wrists and ankles with rope to keep you from squirming. settles at your side with the magic wand in hand— his fav 😌 he loves the way your eyes go wide at the sight of it

he starts you on low, gradually working up the speed/intensity. slipping a finger into your needy hole at some point, then another, and another. three’s your limit without making it too much of a stretch. “good girl. so full of me, aren’t you baby? how’s that feel? you like taking daddy’s fingers?” smiling so sweetly at you when you nod and whimper

he knows just the spot to nestle the bulb of the wand into, right up against your aching clit 🫶 your poor little pussy gets sooo hot and tingly so fast, steve can’t help but chuckle gently at the sight of you unraveling so quickly

“pretty girl, daddy wants you to hold it.”

your distressed whines and big, pleading eyes earn you a sympathetic smile, but no mercy 😔 “c’mon baby. know you can be a big girl and hold it, right? can you show me, doll?”

you’re gritting your teeth as your toes curl, using every ounce of your focus and energy to hold off the inevitable. when steve sees you’re nearing the end of your rope, you’re suddenly hit with a sense of emptiness and need— his fingers are gone and the wand has been pulled away just in time

he strokes your tummy lovingly as it clenches, your breaths coming out in staggers. the look of shock and disappointment on your face are hard for him to bear, but barely shows it

“breathe, sweetheart. there you go,” he’s talking you through it. licking up your juices from his fingers, savoring your taste

a few minutes pass before he gently brings the tips of his digits back to tease at your entrance. “one more time for me baby, can you do that? one more time, then daddy’ll give you what you need”

the bulb of the wand is eased back up against your throbbing clit as he starts working you up again. this time it happens much quicker. “daddy, d-daddy!”

he knows this time around is much more intense for you. as cruel and punishing as he comes off, he’s well in-tune with your body and knows just when to pull away again, right before sending you over the edge

“shhh, i know, babydoll. i know,” he croons as you let out a frustrated sob. he’s wiping your tears away gently, kissing your forehead. “you’ve been so good for me, honey. daddy’s good girl, think you’ve earned yourself some relief, huh?”

you’re a wiggling, writhing mess as he finally brings the wand and his fingers back for the promised finale. fucking his long, muscular digits up into you faster and with more force this time, working the wand in steady up and down strokes over your burning core. “okay baby, there you go. c’mon, give me a nice big one,” his encouragement sends you over the edge as your orgasm is pulled from you.

body on fire from all the built up anticipation 😩 it was so worth it!!! a high that lasts what feels like minutes, your pussy contracting harshly around steve’s waiting fingers. “there it is. such a good girl,” he’s smiling so big, so proud of you

you cry through and after your orgasm, your soft whimpers and sniffles melting the stern man’s heart. as soon as his hands are clean and the wand is switched off, he’s holding you, praising you, taking care of you. he knows how vulnerable you are after such an intense buildup and climax

“my precious girl, you did so well. daddy’s so proud of you, baby. come here, come let me hold you. there you go, sweetheart. deep breaths, daddy’s got you” 💕