#maybe tea will help

[definetelynotavampire]

rendering practise idk why it's fyodor

[mikrotyalm13]

everything about Gavriil feels suffocating.

how his presence alone can be almost overwhelming, how his massive body cages you everytime without a chance to escape. you wouldn't dare to try anyway, knowing that you don't even have a say against a creature of his caliber. he will find you. in your dreams, in your nightmares. in your room.

how he will be intense and vague about everything just for the sake of it; to confuse you further, to see the conflict of emotions in your eyes merge with arousal. eventually your hesitance turns into acceptance, a desperate need to feel his hands all over you. and he will be oh so grateful to fulfill that desire.

how his thick tongue pushes past your lips and into your mouth, reaching almost the back of your throat, relishing in the muffled little sounds you make. your drool mixed with his saliva drips down your chin, and your hazy eyes look up at him when he finally pulls away, giving you a second to breathe.

how his hips are slamming into you relentlessly, your wetness and lack of resistance allowing him to move almost effortlessly. forced to hold onto him for dear life instead of pushing away. all of your morals and principles are being tossed out of the window every single time he comes to you. he has you where he wants you, and will not stop until he feels like you can't take it anymore.

and how in the morning he vanishes away, leaving you guessing: was it just another wet dream? but the cold stickiness between your legs tells you more than you need to know.

[pixelatedraindrops]

Yuma Month: Day 6: Comfort

Keep nice and warm when you’re recovering 💜

[llannasvsp]

No thoughts. Just sleep deprived Lloyd with his lil coffee mug.

[teabutmakeitazure]

rare sneak peeks from the chrollo series that's decomposing in my google docs

yeah every single time reader calls chrollo, he makes bedroom eyes while he talks. at first it was "I need to keep a close eye on her until I can steal her ability" then it turned into "I need to keep her close because I like her" which later turns into "I need her in my basement"

he is not doing okay.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

days where i have nothing to do: ohhhh im so sleepy im so so tired no one is more eepy than me

nights where i have to wake up at a set time: I Have Never Been More Awake In My Life

[gammija]

today's ep is fun ([Fondly] "Yes, Martin, you are my reason,") but im gonna take the time to complain about something minor from years ago, because when else will I get the opportunity?

occasionally people made (make? ive blocked most people who were hardcore about it so idk if they're still on it) posts arguing that Martin is a terrible boyfriend and person and Jon deserves better, and they always cite this part:

to say 'wow, how can Martin say that when he himself isn't very open either, the hypocrite!'

but if we remove the poorly edited out text, and look at the quote in its actual context...

Martin didn't just decide, 'hey, lets chide Jon on his emotional openness today'. Jon literally just read Martin's mind to know what he was thinking about - it's not dwelled on for too long, but imagine for a moment how fucking invasive that really is. compared to that, yeah, Jon doesn't share as much!

which isn't to say that he always should share everything and it's Jon's ''fault'' if he doesn't immediately tell Martin how he's feeling at every moment. just that, you know, communication has to come from both sides. so i think it was more than fair for Martin to express his concern about the imbalance, if Jon would have continued to just know what was in Martin's thoughts and feelings

[dubiousdisco]

ITS SO FUNNY CAUSE KENSHI IS LIKE "JOHNNY MY BESTIE OF ALL TIME IS HELPING ME FIGHT THE YAKUZA WHY ISN'T YOUR SHAOLIN INSTITUTION DOING SO AS WELL??? NO I AM NOT TAKING INTO CONSIDERATION THAT JOHNNY WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR ME BECAUSE HE LOVES ME AND THE SHAOLIN AREN'T DATING ME WHY DO YOU ASK" and raiden is being very polite about the social political effects of what kenshi asked. anyway johnny is helping kenshi with the yakuza 🥹kenshi has friends helping him <3

[shadebloopnik]

Saw this on facebook and i have never made a stupider doodle so quickly-

[lovesbooksdoesntread]

been thinking about the aftermath of the school and elmville being destroyed and maybe one of two ways it'll be resolved:

one: bc of all the time quangle nonsense (affectionate) arthur aguefort is gonna show up at the very very end of the battle, see all the carnage and wreckage of his school and elmville and be like "oh nonono, can't have all this" *clap clap* and just reset the world by 24 hours, sky's not on fire, school's repaired, elmville's back to normal (and then two subthoughts about this: either the only people who remember the actual battle are the people in the gym (i.e. the ratgrinders, the bad kids, porter and jace, ankarna, etc.) OR the entire town remembers and everybody's just like "well, that's good ol' arthur aguefort and elmville for ya!")

two: they just let this terrible school full of evil teachers and insane academic policies BE destroyed and done (sort of in the vein of the end of buffy season 3) and aguefort decides to just completely rebuild over the summer

[inkyquince]

Have those big ole thoughts about training Kylar properly. Maybe you don't wanna loose your virginity to him, or maybe you just enjoy preparing him properly for your first time together.

content warning. this was written for my VTM oc and realised that I can't just release that dumbass to the blog first, so instead it was changed to Kylar uwu. Kylar being nasty, frotting, sex toys, intercrural sex kinda, training mentions, lots of drooling and lube and fluids.

You didn't even mean to train him at first. It was all Kylar's fault. You two couldn't even kiss without his breath hitching and his cock hardening in his stained sweatpants. Jutting against you as his whined, hungrily mouthing at your bottom lip. Hell, you used to just let him hump himself to completion, but Kylar's eyes would prick with tears, both as how sore his cock would get but also being oh so close to you, your crotch being so warm against him beyond unbearable. Blow jobs were out too, since he had the same amount of self control as a glutton.

So, instead, one trip to Sirris' Sex Shop later, you have the solution to your problems. For him to cum and for you to train him before ever having to sleep with him.

Kylar likes to watch you prep the fleshlight. Parting the silicon to spit into the toy before pouring lube in, the clear liquid rising inside rapidly. Meanwhile, he watches, mouth agape just a bit. His cock juts against the fabric of his trousers, opaque liquid already seeping through the garment.

You kick off your trousers so they don't get stained and slip the toy between your thighs, tucked against your own crotch. Kylar used to whine at you to go without underwear when you two did this, but that discussion was long since dead now. Instead, he just tries to imagine it's all you, the tight, snug fit, the dripping mess over his dick. All. You.

He clambers on top of you, tugging his sweatpants down, tucking the band under his balls. His flushed dick stands to attention, dribbling just a bit as he nudges the head against the "lips" of the fleshlight. He's already sweating as he gazes at you, pupils blown wide, for your go ahead to sink into "your" hole. The little smile you give is more than enough and he gracelessly sinks down, lube pushing out as he pushes in, sticking to his thick pubic hair and balls.

Mouth agape, Kylar just gazes at you, dumb little expression as his cock throbbed uselessly inside the toy. God, he wants it to be you so badly. This is the least embarrassing way he's tried to simulate his cock in your warm hole. Tried the fuck a warmed up grapefruit once, before feeding it to you. Fucked a hole into his soap bar. Used to hump his pillow every night, ripped a shabby hole right into it. But somehow this was far more embarrassing. You, watching him, use a toy and obviously pretend its you, all the while you two are chest to chest, stomach to stomach, legs intertwined.

Kylar never had much composure to begin with, but any shreds of it are long gone by the first sloppy thrust. Drool gathering on his tongue, too entranced in the tight fit to even function properly, unable to swallow it down, so it just slips from his lips. The wet squelching of his cock bucking down into the toy, lube flowing out, was not helping, Kylar's lewd imagination kicking into overdrive. Reminds him of the hentai's he would put at full volume with his headphones, settle back and close his eyes and jerk his cock as he imagined you making those lewd noises, both your moans as well as your dripping hole taking his cock.

Yet the toy was just not enough. He came like a virgin whenever you used it on him, but his brain whispered that it would never be enough. Left every orgasm a bit less fulfilling each time. His cock ached as he continued to hump away, curling his body a bit to properly rut into it, almost like a clock wound too tight. His hot huffs of breath fanned over your face, sweat dripping down his face, into his hair and shining in the dim light.

"Please. Please, I want to... I wanna... Please?"

You just laughed softly and gently raised your thighs enough to mimic the feeling of the fleshlight fucking back into him. That was all he needed. Kylar whined and threw his head back, entire body jerking roughly as he came. Cum dribbled over the lips of the toy, seeping over the edges and staining your bare thighs, as well as his own.

Just babbles out his stream of consciousness, saying your hole is so good, that he loves you, that this was always meant to be, that he wants to fill you up up up until you are still dripping his cum days later.

You just stroke his head as he struggles to tug himself out of the toy, knowing that by the time you finally let him fuck you, he'll ruin you properly.

[daisychainsandbowties]

thinking a normal amount about a treasure planet au. Beatrice on her solar kiteboard, doing the daredevil flip sequence framed against the setting sun and then getting hauled kicking and screaming back to her parents’ house in manacles with a defiant expression on her perpetually dirt-smudged face.

climbing out the window at the first opportunity to go down to the dockside inn, making nebulous plans to steal her kiteboard back but ending up down at the edge of the dock staring past her boots and into the mists. gripping tight to the wood beneath her as she looks up at the sky and dreams of anywhere but here, of stealing a skiff to get off this planet. a reluctant twinge at the thought of going alone.

Bea with all her star maps and her intricate knowledge of spaceships and their solar sails and how to navigate out there where the artigrav net is all that stands between you and floating through nothing, forever.

startling when she hears the familiar sound of someone booking it down the pier on wooden crutches. night has already started to speckle the sky above, and as she listens to the thunk of the crutches on the pier, Bea thinks of the complicated metallic lattice she has on her desk at home, partly disassembled because she’s still trying to work out parts of the engineering. Ava’s birthday is in a month.

she has to stay that long, and then she’ll leave. she will.

turning to watch as Ava races towards her with soup stains on her shirt and messy hair jammed flat beneath a ‘pirate’ hat she bought off of a traveling salesman last year. the tricorn wobbles precariously on her head as she moves. Beatrice just waits, a slight smile on her face.

there are bruises high on each of her arms, from the pincer-like grip of the police bots, manhandling her away from her kiteboard to snap manacles around each wrist.

she rubs at the skin there, but ignores the bruises.

when Ava arrives, a little out of breath, Beatrice holds up a hand so she can help herself down onto the pier. there’s no water beneath them, only a few hundred meters of empty air and curling mist.

Ava keeps one hand on Bea’s and the other on her shoulder, letting the crutches clatter down between them as she sits.

“Mom says you got arrested again,” Ava says cheerfully. “She says they’re threatening to send you to prison.”

Beatrice shrugs, “I wouldn’t mind it, so long as my parents did not visit.”

Ava’s fingers are covered in bright red band-aids, from chopping vegetables all day with her poor hand dexterity. Beatrice watches the colours blur as Ava punches her in the arm, right on the bruises. “Liar, I know you’d miss me.”

her arm throbs painfully, but Beatrice’s expression is carefully neutral as she responds. 

“I might.”

she stays with Ava that night, both of them reading her old book with its floating images of ships and canons and pirates leaping from vessel to vessel. Captain Flint, materialising out of empty space to steal away gems and gold, “the loot of a thousand worlds.” Ava traces the projected lines of the solar sails with her fingers as they flicker into being. 

Beatrice has repaired the book over and over, making the colours brighter and sharper. the tiny shapes of pirates all made up of light. Ava has the book open on Bea’s chest as she lies next to her, legs all entangled in the sheets they’ve kicked off because the night is so warm.

she seems oblivious to how Beatrice’s breath hitches at almost every touch.

they’re almost asleep when they hear the explosion, a ship crashing into the cliff-side, tumbling over and over before they hear the pop and hiss of heated metal. a bloom of smoke outside the window.

Beatrice gives Ava a piggyback ride down the stairs just before Ava’s ‘mom’, Suzanne, emerges with her pulse-rifle primed, hair loose around her shoulders.

they stumble into the yard and discover a pirate, a robot, still bleeding from a wound in his abdomen, crawling from the wreck of his ship. Beatrice heaves a shard of twisted metal away from him and finds the surface slippery with blood.

behind her, Ava sways a little, shivers in the cold air, but she’s still standing when Beatrice turns back to her.

the dying pirate tells them almost nothing useful. he’s half-mad, cluching at Beatrice’s shirt until the seams tear at the collar, then turning to Ava. he fetches out a lockbox from his ship, blood spilling onto the ground at the movement. unlocks it and takes odd sphere from inside.

it drops into Ava’s palm as he rasps, “Whatever you do, don’t let them find it.”

then he wheezes, shudders, stills.

they stare at him, Ava’s free hand finding Bea’s, holding tight.

“Is he… dead?” Ava’s voice in the silence and the dark.

“I think so.”

then, in a burst of light and sound, in a shockwave of displaced air, a ship plummets down out of the clouds, pulling up an instant from the ground.

this second ship looms down out of the sky, pirates dropping from it and suddenly Suzanne is screaming at them to “GET INSIDE” from an upstairs window as she takes potshots at the misshapen shapes swarming down lines of hempen rope.

the air lights up with orange and yellow as explosions ripple down towards the crashed ship, towards the inn. Bea flings one of Ava’s arms around her neck and sprints for the door, Ava holding the sphere (or map?) tightly against her chest.

she sets Ava down gently onto one of the bar stools, runs back to barricade the door. her face is flushed, streaked somehow with engine grease and robot blood, which is black and slightly acidic. 

they exchange a wide-eyed look, too much meaning in it to parse as explosions rock the floor. Ava has both hands clutched around the sphere. 

they both almost scream as Suzanne runs down the stairs in a blur of dressing gown and gun. she has Ava’s crutches in one hand and her rifle in the other. she kisses Ava quickly on the forehead, “Thank the tides you’re safe.” leaves her with the crutches and then goes to fetch an ancient-looking blaster pistol out from behind the bar, presses it into Beatrice’s hands. “You know how to use this?”

“No!”

“Aim it away from your own face.”

and then there are pirates all around the house, glass breaking and fire crackling. Beatrice takes up the rear, pistol pointed at the front door as it bulges under the pressure of pirates flinging their bulk into it again and again. 

they climb out of a window, Suzanne producing a kitchen knife and jamming it into the neck of a pirate loitering uncertainly outside the bolted shutters. there, covered by a tarp, is Suzanne’s old motorcycle with a sidecar attached. lantern-bugs scatter out from under it as Suzanne throws the old tarp away, gestures for Beatrice and Ava to climb in as she covers them with her rifle.

there’s a roar from somewhere in the dark and Suzanne fires a shot, hops onto the motorcycle and revs the engine. then they’re moving, pirates parting before them like the ocean neither of them have ever seen, the vast bodies of water that don’t even exist on this planet.

they seek refuge with Jillian, an archaeologist who frequents the old inn, claiming that she can’t make her coffee taste of anything but soap. she examines the orb, reluctantly passed into her hands by Ava, her and Bea wrapped in an old blanket, sitting by the fire in Jillian’s immense study.

Jillian fiddles with it for an age before sighing, looking almost angry with herself.

“I can’t… seem to make this work.”  

Ava holds out her hand, silent. “let me try,” and Beatrice makes a face at Jillian when she hesitates.

the pirate gave the sphere to Ava; it’s hers. 

it seems much larger in Ava’s small grip. she looks down at it for a while before her fingers start to move, slow but gathering momentum as she presses the little grooves and switches and indents on the sphere. 

until it lights up, showing a map of the known universe, and parts of it that are unknown.

“Is that-” Beatrice feels her words drop away, like the ground beneath the pier where she has passed so many hours sitting with Ava’s hand in hers.

Ava turns to Beatrice, eyes bright as a pair of stars, “It’s treasure planet.”

[chimchiri]

I think I might have deleted the post about the interview but - I did get the job! :''') <3

[rainswept]

ok who else dislikes wriothesley immensely

[steelycunt]

an um. snippet. from me. for the first time since. july :-)

[theraggedygirl11]

I'm listening to Everybody's Waiting on repeat, as I should, even though I don't really like it?

I'm happy that they are experimenting, they should do it, every artist should do it

Just... it's not entirely my cup of tea, except from the part they used to promote it on social media till the end.

It's very Beatles like, maybe too much for me, and I have some kind of hatred for this band because of an English professor I had in middle school who loved the Beatles and kept talking about them 😅

I ended up hating both the professor (for other reasons) and also the band