#mms cleaning solution

[tasteleeknow]

— make a wish

pairing: minho x fem!reader genre: smut, fluff, established relationship. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 3.9k

summary: it’s your boyfriends birthday. you can’t afford to get him much—so you offer him a small coupon book of favours. he cashes in immediately.

a/n: reupload bc of shadowban mess, i'm sorry! thank u so much to everyone who read and gave me feedback the first time, love u for it ❤︎︎

afab!reader. profanity. anxiety mention. pet names. oil massage. unprotected intercourse. praise kink. grinding. breast groping. fingering. possessive behaviour.

You couldn’t afford to get your boyfriend anything for his birthday. You’d considered borrowing some money from your friends. Anything you could afford felt totally inadequate. It was embarrassing. You had been so stressed about it Minho had noticed your low mood. “Just stressed with work,” you’d told him. It was only during a phone call with your parents you’d had an idea. When you were little you’d made your parents small coupon books for their birthdays. Each page would have a small redeemable favour they could use at any time. Things like vacuum the house, breakfast in bed, clean the bathroom etc. When you had no money of your own the little ticket books were your solution. Why couldn’t they be now?

You’d spent the last few days with the small book in your pocket, pulling it out and adding a page whenever a new idea popped into your head. You knew he’d pretend to like whatever you got him. Whether he was actually happy or not, you’d never know. You couldn’t help feeling anxious about it. You’d woken up before him this morning to make him breakfast, fiddling with the small book periodically—second guessing giving it to him at all. You could just tell him his gift hasn’t arrived yet, go borrow some money and buy him something nice. 

He sits across from you now, devouring the pancakes you’d made—his hair fluffy from sleep. He’d hardly said anything since he’d woken up, stumbling out of the bathroom and collapsing into the chair—half asleep. You wonder if now is the best time to give him the coupon book, while he’s too sleepy to think too much about it. 

“Come here,” Minho mumbles around a mouthful of pancakes, pushing his chair back and patting his thigh. You shove the small book in your pocket and stand to make your way to his side of the table. He watches you approach him, eyes dropping to your bare legs. 

You were wearing a sweater you’d stolen from him, some panties and a pair of fluffy socks. Lazy day attire. When you’d asked him if there was anything he wanted to do on his birthday, he’d stretched his arms above his head and mumbled. He wanted to do absolutely nothing at all. You’d thought maybe you could make up for the gift with a trip somewhere nice. Obviously not.

You settle yourself in his lap, thighs across his legs, side pressed to his chest. “Feed me,” he says, a serious expression on his face. 

You wrap one arm around his neck, holding yourself against him. “No please?” 

“It’s my birthday.”

“So I'm just your personal servant today then?” 

“Mm, pancake,” he says, opening his mouth in preparation. Maybe he will like your coupon book. You pull your arm from his neck so you can reach over to cut up the pancakes. His arms wrap around you, keeping you from falling off his lap. You hold your hand under the fork as you bring it to his mouth, ready to catch any spillage. 

“Say ahhh,” you prompt, treating him like one of the small children you’d babysat as a teenager. He frowns, leaning forward to latch onto the fork to steal the food. He leans back, eyebrows relaxing—a satisfied expression forming on his face as he chews. “Baby,” you tease, poking his cheek. 

“You’re supposed to be nice to me today.” 

“I’m always nice to you.” 

“Extra nice. Another,” he says, finished with his mouthful. You feed him another, watching him chew. You may as well give him the book. You could always tell him you had another gift coming. You reach into your pocket to pull the small book out. “What’s that?” he asks, reaching to snatch it from your hands. You pull it away from him just in time. 

“Be patient or you can’t have it.” 

“It’s for me then?” he says, a grin forming on his face.  

“Only if you’re good.” 

“I’m always good.” 

You take a deep breath, preparing yourself. “It’s…not much. I couldn’t really…afford much else so I thought—” 

“Give it,” he says, reaching to snatch it from you. He’s successful this time. You hold your breath as he inspects it, snaking one arm around his neck so he can free both his hands. He’s quiet as he reads the small note you’d written on the first page, then he flicks through. 

“I can use these anytime?” he says finally. 

“Yeah, whenever.” 

“What’s this one?” he asks, pointing to one of the pages. 

“I’ll pet you.” 

His nose scrunches as he pulls a face. “Why would I want to be pet?” 

“You love being pet.” You reach up to stroke the hair at the back of his head. “Like when I stroke your hair as you’re falling asleep.” 

“Now I have to pay for that?” 

“You just get to ask for it whenever you want.” 

He’s silent as he flips through a few pages. “I want to redeem this one right now,” he says, ripping out one of the tickets. You take it from him so you can read it. 

“Clean the cat litter for a week.” You look across the room to the three litter trays against the wall. “Alright then, your week starts now.” 

“Good, I haven’t done it this morning,” he says, flipping through the pages again. “This one, too.” You take the piece of paper from him. 

“Return one of your sweaters,” you read.

“I want this one back, right now.” He tugs at the sweater you're wearing. He hadn’t worn it in months, not since you’d stolen it. You attempt to climb off him so you can go change. “No, now,” he says, holding you down. 

“This coupon is for one sweater, not one naked girlfriend on your lap.” 

“It’s not my fault you allowed the system to be easily manipulated.” 

“Let me up a second.” He loosens his grip on you just long enough for you to resettle yourself in his lap, one leg over each thigh—facing him fully now. “Help me,” you say, lifting your arms above your head. His fingers brush against your skin as he pulls the sweater up over your head—dropping it to the ground the second you’re freed. You look down at the pile of fabric on the floor. “If you don’t want that, let me keep it. It’s my favourite.” 

“I want it.” 

“You’re disrespecting it.” 

“It’s mine, I can put it where I want,” he says, leaning back in the chair and tracing his palms up your waist. 

“I hate you.”

“Did you really just say that to me on my birthday?” He says, eyes fixed on your tits. 

“Do you like it? The book.” 

“Mm.”

“Do you really or are you just saying that?”

“It’s already got you naked in my lap, I like it,” he mutters, hands grasping your breasts. You pull them off you. 

“Groping wasn’t part of the voucher.” 

“I’ve never needed a voucher before.” 

“Well, now you do.” 

“Is there a groping voucher?” 

“Take a look.” 

He reaches down to grab the book from the floor before flipping through it. You smooth his messy hair down a little as he searches. “Massage?” he reads. “Can I have a massage AND grope your tits?” 

You hold your hand out in reply. He rips the massage coupon out and slaps it on your hand then flips through until he finds a ticket with your scribbled handwriting that reads: ‘1 Coupon to Touch, Grope or Poke’. 

“I can’t believe I need to pay for this now,” he grumbles, tearing the page from the book and slapping it on top of the other in your palm. 

“One massage with groping coming right up,” you say before pressing a soft kiss to his lips and climbing off his lap. He bends over to grab the sweater off the floor before following you to the bedroom. You lay out a towel on the bed. “Lie down,” you tell him before collecting the massage oil from the bathroom. When you return he’s stripped himself fully, lying back with his hands behind his head. “Did I tell you to strip?” 

“The voucher didn’t say I needed to be clothed. You’ve got the oil anyway. You were gonna tell me when you came back, control freak.” He says, smirking at you from his reclined position against the pillows. 

“I was going to tell you to take your shirt off, not whip your cock out.” 

“You like my cock,” he says, reaching down to stroke himself.

“Don’t fish for compliments, there’s a voucher for that.” 

He pulls his hand from his cock, propping himself up on his elbows to look at you properly. “There’s a compliment voucher?”

“Mm,” you confirm, climbing onto the bed to settle next to him.

“How many?” 

“It’s unlimited until it expires at the end of the week.” 

“Okay, compliment my cock then.” 

“I like your cock very much. My favourite cock. Very pretty. Now roll over.” 

He groans dramatically as he turns onto his stomach, pulling a pillow down to rest his head on. You climb over him, settling against his ass. You snap the cap off the oil before dribbling a generous amount over his back. He mumbles something, too muffled for you to make out. 

You lay yourself down onto him, breasts against the bare skin of his back. “What was that?” you ask before pressing your lips to the skin just behind his ear. 

“The oil is cold,” he repeats, clearer this time. 

“It’s cold? Poor baby,” you tease, sitting up again and dragging your hands down his back—spreading the oil as you go. Your breasts and stomach are slippery from where you pressed against him. He was right, it was a little cold. “I’ll warm you up, yeah?” you say, hands working the oil into his muscles. He groans as you hit a sore spot, letting you know where he needs extra attention. His muscles flex occasionally as you work, the feeling of them under your hands in combination with the noises coming from his throat make it impossible for you to stay still. The small movements of your hips against him go unnoticed. At least he doesn’t give you any indication he’s noticed. 

It isn’t until you’ve reached his lower back that he speaks up. “Take them off.”

You lift your fingers from his skin. “My hands?” 

“Panties. I can feel you rolling against me…wanna feel your naked pussy.”

“Shut up.” 

“It’s my birthday,” he whines. “Is there a coupon for it?”

“For grinding against your ass?” 

“For getting naked.” 

“...Yes.”

He lets out a contented sigh. “Best present ever.”

You can’t help it when your lips curve into a small smile in response. “You wanna use it then?”

“Mm, take them off.” 

You stand up on the bed to pull them down your legs, leaving you entirely bare minus the fluffy socks on your feet. “Socks?” you ask. 

“They can stay. Cute.” 

You lower yourself onto him, against his lower back this time. You can’t help letting a small sound escape your throat as your sensitive cunt presses against his warm slippery skin. You resume kneading his muscles as your hips roll against him, leaning down to press small kisses against his neck occasionally. Each time you lean down to kiss his neck you listen to the barely audible sounds he makes, like he’s holding back moans. 

“You warm now?” you ask eventually, voice breathy. 

“Mm,” he confirms, “Can feel your hot little cunt…so warm.” 

“This was a coupon for a massage, and now I'm naked grinding on you.” 

“Like I said, easily manipulated. No rules about combining tickets.” 

“Turn over,” you say, climbing off him. He sits up, pulling you into his lap. “Let go, I’m not done.” 

“Mm? Intermission,” he mutters before pressing his lips into yours. You feel his cock trapped between you, the oil spreading a little from your chest to his. “Compliment,” he mutters between kisses—cashing in one of his unlimited compliment coupons for the day.

“Could feel all your muscles…you’ve been working so hard...” 

“Yeah? The gym is paying off then?”

“Mm, can see it.” 

“Thank you.” He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll lie down now.” 

You climb off him, letting him settle himself down on his back. As you reach for the bottle his hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you. “Do you need that?” he asks.

“You don’t like it?” 

“I like it, but you could oil me up another way.” He says, one corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

You sigh, giving him a pointed look as you wait for whatever is about to come out of his mouth next. He was completely unpredictable, one of the many things you loved about him. 

“Your tits,” he finishes, lips curving into a proper grin.

“What?” 

“Use your tits to oil me, they’re all slippery.” 

“You…want me to…rub the oil from my tits onto you?” 

“It’s my birthday,” he repeats for the umpteenth time. 

“There’s no coupon for that.” 

“Just because you love me, then.” 

“Let me get the oil, I need more.” 

He releases your wrist, allowing you to grab the bottle. You climb over him and open the cap—looking up at his face. He smiles. Alright, then. You tip the bottle upside down at your clavicles, letting the oil pour down over your tits. It’s cold. When the oil hits your nipple, a shiver runs down your spine. Minho’s hand comes up to grip your thigh. 

“More,” he says, voice breathy. You definitely don’t need more but you humour him, pouring oil until it drips down onto his stomach. 

“Enough?” you ask, finally.

“Mm, good.” 

You drop the bottle onto the bed next to you and use both hands to massage the oil into your tits a little. His hand on your thigh squeezes a little tighter as you work.

“I’m a fucking genius,” he mutters, eyes fixed on your tits. You huff out a laugh, hands dropping to rest on his chest. 

“Should I oil your tits now?” 

“If you like,” he says, as if he hadn’t guided the situation exactly where he wanted it. You lower yourself down onto him, chest to chest. “Compliment,” he breathes into your mouth. You slide back and forth a little against him, the slick oil making it easy. 

“Needy,” you tease before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Hm…let me think.”

“You need to think about it?” 

“You just have too many good qualities. It’s overwhelming.” 

“Ah, I see.” 

“You make me feel safe…and warm. I get this feeling in my chest when I’m with you, like everything is really okay.”

His arms wrap around you, pulling you down onto his chest fully. “Another.” 

“Your eyes are the prettiest.” 

“Mm, another.” 

“You make me laugh more than anyone else.” 

“These are really unlimited?” 

“Sure, but the more time I spend complimenting you the less time I have to rub oil on you with my tits.” 

“You can't compliment me WHILE you rub oil on me with your tits? It’s my birthday.” 

“Is it? You hadn’t mentioned,” you tease, grinning down at him before continuing to spread oil over him with your body. He closes his eyes, biting his bottom lip between his teeth as you work. His hair flops over his forehead, still messy from sleep. One of his hands grips your thigh, the other above his head—resting against the pillow, palm facing up. You reach up to intertwine your fingers with his, his hand warm in yours. 

“Kiss,” he mutters, lips a little swollen from where he’d bitten them. You take his hand from your thigh, pressing it above his head to join the other. You hold him there, each hand in his as you taste him. He’s a little sweet from the maple syrup. You can’t help moaning into his mouth, a little overwhelmed from all the different sensations. The warmth of him under you, the slippery oil coating your torso, the slide of your sensitive nipples against his skin, his sweet lips attached to yours, his warm hands in yours.

He detaches his lips from yours to speak. “Is there—” He kisses you again, interrupting himself. “Is there a coupon for letting me oil you?” 

“No, I don’t think letting you give me an oil massage is much of a gift.” 

“Well, I do,” he says before wrapping his arms around you, flipping you under him. You felt like you’d been holding his hands to the bed pretty firmly. Apparently not. He’d pulled himself free without even a hint of struggle. His dark hair hangs down over his eyes. You reach up to play with it just before he sits back and grasps each of your tits.

“So slippery, hm?” he whispers, eyes fixed on where his hands grope you—kneading each breast thoroughly. He’d always had a fascination with your breasts, groping them whenever he had the chance. You’d often hear the bathroom door open mid shower, your boyfriend joining you. He’d lather up his hands with body wash, insisting on massaging each breast—completely fixated on them until you eventually guided his hands elsewhere. 

You wrap your hands around his wrists now, prompting him to look up at your face. “I’m slippery elsewhere, too,” you say, guiding his hands down your stomach slowly. He pulls away so he can move down the bed and push your legs apart—settling himself between them. 

“Here, baby?” he asks, one finger gently brushing against your wet cunt. You suck in a breath, already sensitive from grinding against him. His finger brushes up and down through your folds gently, like he’s never touched you before. You close your eyes, basking in the feeling of his soft caress. You're so blissed out you nearly jump out of your skin at the cold oil he pours over your cunt. Apparently you’d been so out of it you hadn’t noticed him reaching for the bottle. 

“Co-Cold,” you stammer out, back arching off the bed slightly. 

“Yeah? Poor baby,” he teases, mimicking your words from earlier as his fingers find you again—much more confident this time. He spreads the oil over your mound, then his fingers move down through your folds, massaging the oil over your cunt thoroughly. “So pretty,” he mutters, just loud enough for you to make out. 

You struggle to stay still, squirming as he plays with you. It isn’t until he presses his long fingers inside you, the other hand working circles on your clit, that you let go—back arching off the bed as you whine his name. He works you through your high, wet sounds filling the room as he fucks you with his fingers. 

He climbs over you as you attempt to catch your breath, panting into his mouth as he kisses you. So sweet. 

“Do I need a coupon to fuck you?” he whispers against your lips. 

“No,” you breathe out, “you can do that just because I love you.”

The tip of his cock kisses your sensitive cunt as he mutters against your mouth. “I want to hear compliments as I fill you.” You nod, struggling to offer him a verbal response. “Use your words,” he prompts. 

“Yes…compliments…move, please.” 

He presses forward, his tip spreading you open. Your mind blanks, as it always does when he enters you. As he knows it will. Your mouth falls open, brows pulling together. “Compliment,” he says, not pressing in any further. 

You take a deep breath, looking up into his eyes. “So—So big, always so hard for me,” you manage to breathe out. He offers you a small smile before pushing into you a little more, the oil helping him spread you open. He drops his head into your shoulder. 

“Another,” he says, lips moving against your skin. 

“Stretch me open so well, feel so full of you every time. Wish you were inside me always, just like this,” you say, threading your fingers into his hair. You hold him against you as he begins moving, pressing his body into yours. He quiet as he fucks into you slow and deep, much slower than your used to. He usually liked it fast and hard, holding your hips up off the bed so he could use your cunt like a toy. He’d fuck you like that most nights, biceps flexing as he held you up. It wasn’t until he’d filled you that he’d melt, everything about him softened as he helped you reach your high—either with his fingers or his mouth.

“Tell me your mine,” he mumbles into your neck now. Slow, deep strokes of his cock splitting you open. 

“Of course I’m yours,” you answer, fingers stroking the back of his neck gently. “Just like your mine, right?” 

“Mm,” he confirms before his lips attach to your skin properly, sucking a mark into your neck. You savour the feeling of him filling you as he works on marking your neck, the movement of his hips speeding up a little. When he finally detaches from your neck, you expect him to sit back—to start fucking you like he usually did. Instead he moves his head to the other side of your neck so he can begin marking you again. By the time he’s finished this one his hips are moving erratically, signalling his end. He hovers over you, breath mingling with yours as he pants. 

You keep your eyes locked on his as he comes, loving the expression he makes as he fills you. You reach up to grab the back of his neck, pulling his mouth to yours as his hips stutter against you, a final moan slipping from his lips.

After returning from the bathroom you find Minho quietly flipping through the coupon book, inspecting each page properly. You settle yourself against him, head resting against his chest. “What does this one mean?” he asks. 

“Read it to me.” 

“Make a wish.” 

“That’s a free for all. You can ask for anything.” 

“Anything?” 

You chuckle, hand lightly patting his stomach. “Nothing that’ll get either of us arrested…or killed.” Or cost more than I can afford, you add silently. 

He says nothing. You imagine his brain running through every possible thing he could ask of you. You imagine him asking to adopt another cat or make you come to the gym with him everyday. Every now and then you’d tag along and watch his workout. He said it was motivating. You close your eyes, nuzzling against him a little. Then the sound of paper tearing breaks the comfortable silence and he tucks the ticket into your hand. 

“I want to use it now,” he announces. 

“You sure? You only get one.” 

“One a year.”

“You want the same gift again next year?” 

“It’s a good gift.” 

You don’t hold back your smile, your face hidden from him. You believe him. He actually likes it. “Alright, what’s your wish this year then?”

He’s quiet again. His hand rests on top of yours, the ticket tucked safely under both your hands. Finally, he speaks again. “Marry me.” 

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

↳ masterlist

[cherry-writes-yanderes]

Can I request yandere ghost plz?

Soft Yandere Ghost Headcanons

(gn! reader | SFW)

a/n: don’t worry, a nsfw piece is in the works~

cw: mention of kidnapping, bondage (sfw), physical assault, drugging w/ a needle, blood, v domestic

I’m all for the “growly, rough Ghost where he throws you on the bed” type yandere stuff, but we gotta admit to ourselves that he is so soft after you’ve been with him awhile

He’s only rough with you because you’re fussy, and when the drugs kick in you see past that, he’s very domestic and gentle with you

He hates hurting you, but he will if provoked

So don’t piss him off.

Anyways-

As soon as you’re more relaxed, he’ll take you from his bed and into the living room to lay on the couch while he does… anything really

He secretly likes showing off his cleaning skills to you, how good he cooks and how comfy he can make you feel

He wants you to feel at home, especially after the first few days and how tough it was for the both of you

He’s still not all that animated and smiley with you, of course, but he’s surprisingly soft and gentle

Simon will lay you on the couch and turn on the television, letting your legs rest in his lap as he rubs your thighs

He cannot keep his hands off of you istg

And not even in a sexual way, he just needs to be touching you at all times

If he isn’t, then he’s cleaning or making you food, that’s it

One day very early on, he felt really bad all night because you had been really wiggly, trying your absolute best to get away from him despite the duct tape binding your limbs together

He got frustrated and had to knock you out by force, and the guilt settled in his chest right after

Especially with the blood on his knuckles from your nose as a reminder

The day after, he brought you out to the couch with the utmost care, cradling your head and giving you a pillow to lay on

To top it off, he squeezed in behind you, nuzzling his face into your neck

One thing about Ghost that I stand by is the fact that it will be a VERY LONG TIME until you actually see his face

He holds the sentiment that taking his mask off is a sign that he trusts you fully, and you’re just not at that point yet :(

But don’t worry, he has a solution!

He covers your eyes with his hand, slipping his mask off to press a kiss to your shoulder

He wants to kiss you, and it’s not the same to do it through his mask, so this was the next best thing

He loves to trail kisses from your forehead to your collarbone, whispering deep, loving things into your ear as a sort of comfort

“Y’so pretty, love… Mm… ya smell nice too…”

He tries his best to compliment you, although you can tell he’s not entirely sure how

He hopes that you’ll come around soon, but until then, he still hides his face like with everyone else

Ghost still loves you though, he always will <3

~i do not condone yandere behavior irl~

[ladykissingfish]

*Kakuzu looking up bounties in the Bingo Book*

Kakuzu: Hidan, bring me my reading glasses.

Hidan, getting them with a grumble: Would a “please” kill you, old fuck?

Kakuzu: Likely not, but why take chances? *uses the hem of his shirt to clean the lenses*

Hidan: Those things are so damn ancient … why don’t you just get contacts?

Kakuzu: Because one doesn’t just “get” contacts, brat. In the first place the exam to measure the eyes for them costs more than a simple glasses exam. Not to mention you constantly have to buy bottles of cleaning solution for them. And they’re so tiny; if you lose one, you have to go out and buy a whole other pair. *puts the glasses on and picks up his book* So I’ll just stick with these, thank you very much.

Hidan: But what about, like, colored lenses? You don’t think it would be cool to have eyes that are a different color?

Kakuzu: Not particularly. And I thought you liked my green eyes?

Hidan: I do, but you’re missing the point. Ya never want to try anything new! Do you want things just to stay the same forever?!

Kakuzu: *puts down his book* Good Lord, you are very weirdly invested in this idea, aren’t you? *sighs* I don’t think I’ll ever understand you. But if it’ll get you off my back, I’ll go and get the exam sometime this week. Alright?

Hidan: R-really?! *throws his arms around Kakuzu and kisses him* Thanks, old bastard!

Kakuzu: Mm. Now leave me to read in peace, please.

*Hidan leaves and bumps into Deidara in the hallway*

Deidara: Hey, I heard all that, hm. Does Kakuzu getting some contacts really mean that much to you?

Hidan: Not at all, blondie. I actually think his glasses look is really sexy.

Deidara: Huh? Then why —

Hidan: Because I want contacts. He doesn’t know it but that eye place in the next village is offering a special; if you bring them a new customer, you get a free pair of soft lenses.

Deidara: … And why do you want contacts?

Hidan: I’m gonna get some sharingan patterned ones like will look like those assholes Itachi’s and Tobi’s. Those fuckers think they’re such hot shit … wait’ll they see me pop a sharingan of my own! They’ll shit a brick for sure! *laughs, then leaves-*

Deidara:

Deidara: What the FUCK do you mean “like Tobi’s”??

[xoxo-greed]

Ayo your stuff are so good, they give me more delulu but I can't complain 😩 honestly, I've been thinking for a long time about Floyd Leech himself just fucking reader on one of mostro lounges couches when no one is around, since it gives him the kick. This bastard is probably often horny change my mind.

Sorry Azul, I don't feel ashamed for doing it on YOUR couch of YOUR workplace while YOUR probably in the next room while YOUR friend and coworker gives me the time of my life💅

AN: teehee pookie bear yk yall always give me the freaky ones but this one is just perfect 🤭 and Azul’s pretty and all, but Floyd is just mm mmm MMM 😼 enjoy !!!! this is a f!reader fyi, if u want male, tell me!

you sit on one of the mostró lounge’s couches with a sigh, you agreed to help the Leech brothers with the cafe, but the moment Azul pulled out a paper for you to sign, you knew it was a bad idea. Of course, in all your ego, you decided against the little voice in your head that you’d help them, and holy shit was is tiring. You turn over to your side, seeing as Floyd approaches you. “Hey little shrimpy,” He says in a passive voice, he seems to he over worked as well. “How ya holding up?” He asks, sitting beside you. “I’m okay, thanks for asking, but I can’t seem to fall asleep or anything, I gotta lose some more energy.” You tell him, you have to lose the remaining bolts of energy coursing through your body.

He’s on top of you now.

“I have a solution for that.”

———————————————————————

“faster..” you tell him, you feel it deep in your stomach, the urge for the tip of his cock to touch your cervix. “deeper!” you whine out, your mind in-between your thighs and hole, surrounded by heat and lust. “Give it time little shrimpy, this little hole is a bit too tight today..” he lets out a giggle, this maniac.. this.. pleasure causing maniac who’s ramming his hips into yours, oh so good is all that fills your mind. Juices covering your cunt and his member in a surprising amount, so good, so deep, and he groans gutturally with the way your warm and sticky walls press onto him.

“Hitting my limit.. hitting.. my limit..” he whispers out through gritted teeth, your moans and whines for him to go faster is music to his ears, hitting the finish mark with a final thrust as your walls go from pink to white from his cum.

“Azul’s gonna get on our ass if we don’t clean the couch.” He laughs.

a/n: hey guys, sorry for leaving for like 3 months i was lazy to write things 🔥 anyways im BACK and i got horny (and my bf cant always text me so like) i got one question chat id this w or L rizz chat 😼

[ifimdreaming]

I just loove your Luke fics. Could you write more Luke fluff? I miss him so much

blurb!

I don't want you to go

luke hughes x reader || fluff

summary: lukey pookie bookie bubba boo boo bear doesnt want u to leave his room but its a sunday nightand you ran out of clean clothes after spendinf all weekedn at his house, so u have to go

author's note: hope u enjoy! this is very rushed so i apologize for that!

word count: 0.4k

-

“Luke, you have to let go eventually…” you say after much consideration, his body is almost fully on top of you as you're cuddling in his bed. He hugs your waist tightly and his grip on you stays firm as you wriggle underneath him

“No i do nott” he says as he cuddles his face into your chest and you just let out a laugh in response. although you didnt particularly want to leave his bedroom, it had been almost three days since you were home. 

plus, after having to shower using only 3 in 1 body wash last night, you started to seriously miss your own apartment

“mm yeah you do” 

You knew your roommates might start to get a little suspicious with how much time youve been spending ‘at a friends house’, seeing as they had no idea about yours and lukes relationship yet.

“whyyyy baby” he drags out, “i dont want you to go…'' his voice is quiet and muffled as his face is pressed into your body.

“I have literally zero clean clothes left lukey…and i havent been home since like thursday.” you gently pat his head and run your fingers through his curls as you explain

 “plus tomorrow is monday. weekends over bud.” you give him multiple reasons, knowing damn well he will try and give you solutions to all of your excuses

“hm, well what if i just dont let go” luke says, lifting his head up to look you in the eyes and you squint back at him

“Then i guess we're both stuck here” you say with a sigh

“Okp.” he says as he quickly lays back down, his head falling onto your stomach

“LUKE!” you say exasperatedly and he begins chuckling, you cant see it, but you can just tell theres a big smirk on his face.

“Fineee.” he says, finally releasing you from his grip.

You get up to start packing your things before he gets the chance to change his mind, and he watches you from his spot on the bed.

“I promise im not leaving forever” you say, seeing as his dramatics are assuredly over.

“so youll come back next weekend?” 

“mmm we’ll see…” you say jokingly and Luke lifts his head up from the pillow, you look over to him curiously and he reaches under his head, throwing the pillow right at you.

“Hey!” you say giggling as you pick up the pillow from the floor, chucking it right back at him.

-

-

[minimickzy]

Literally Just Us || Lottie Matthews

dialog prompts: "Spin the bottle" "It's literally just us

Characters: Lottie x Reader, Van, Natalie, Jackie, and Shauna

Word count: 1529

“Lottie Matthew’s you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.” You smirked as you took the joint from her lips and brought it to your own.

“Mm, you flatter me too much.” Her cheeks pushed up and caused the outside of her eyes to crinkle as she smiled, blowing smoke out.

“Not possible”

She laughed, the rosiness of her cheeks intensifing.

“Okay stop hogging it and pass it already.” Natalie deadpanned next to you- making a grabby hand in front of your face.

Lottie, Natalie, Van and you stood outside Lottie’s back door. The inside was buzzing with teens- most already drunk or high as it was rounding midnight.

Your gaze slid across her house, the big windows and golden light peeking out of them. Music seeming to make the stutters shake with the beat.

You must be pretty high already- or maybe just tried because you zoned out thinking about something you wouldn’t remember in 10 minutes when Van blew smoke right in your face, causing you to cough and stumble back in shock as the other three laughed at you.

“Yeah yeah- very funny.” You croaked out between coughs.

The girls calmed down. Lottie finished the joint and stomped it into the dirt next to the deck.

“We should head back in before Jeff and Jackie get into a screaming match again.” Natalie groans.

“Jeff! It was just Shauna it doesn’t count as sex!” Van mocked Jackie’s voice, earning laughs from the others.

“God when is she gonna have her come to Jesus moment.” You asked as you shook your head towards the ground.

“Hopefully soon- I can’t take much more of Shauna's puppy dog eyes- they're like haunting my dreams.” Lottie laughed as she swung the door open.

The party was still in full swing, people milling around with red solo cups and beer bottles. All of Wiskayok’s teens crowded in one house- a house that was amazingly able to fit them all.

Technically this party was for the football team but Lottie's house was the party house because of its size and the fact her parents were always gone and didn’t give a shit what she did.

You could tell it hurt her. You didn’t know the complexity of their relationship and it wasn’t really your place but you could see that they all loved each other- something just stopped them from knowing how to show it.

Jackie and Shauna stood against the counter, bickering about something. Shauna rolled her eyes before meeting yours. “Please tell me you have more beer in the basement Lottie.” She huffed out as she left Jackie with her mouth flapping like a fish.

“Sorry Shauna- we used up the reserves after the game last week.”

“Shit- I guess that’s my cue then.”

Natalie gave her a solute as Shauna gave all of you a little wave, ignoring Jackie on the way out.

You let out a low whistle. Van copied your sound and then joked, “is right. That was hard to watch.”

People were starting to leave in a steady stream. You and Van started to pick up stray bottles and cups as Lottie and Natalie kicked the few people left out.

The four of you stuck together at almost every party, when tai would be willing to put down homework and join, she’d fit in like another puzzle piece.

Because you all were a group and Lottie was the party house owner- it also meant that you’d tend to have a mini sleepover after each party.

Lucky you all had a system and it only took a little less 40 minutes to clean up the mess.

After the cleaning was done the four of you set up camp in the living room. You grabbed the mattress from one of the storage rooms and dragged them in front of the big tv.

Can face planted onto the mattress as soon as it was in place. “This bed is softer than mine at home I swear to god.” The mattress muffled her voice.

“Did you guys wanna play a game?” Lottie asked giving the mattress a tiny kick.

Van flopped her arm up, “To tried.”

“Yeah count me out too, I’m ready to pass out,” Natalie said joining her on the

“Boo. You guys are lame” Lottie laughed in a sing-song voice. She bumped your arm and gave you the big round eyes and little smile she knew would win you over every time. “What about you?”

“Sure lot.” You smiled back at her and she led you to the kitchen with your hand in hers.

She bent over and opened one of the lower cabinets, reaching back at a weird angle with a look of concentration.

“What are you doing?” You chuckled.

“You’ll see.” She continued to rummage for a few more seconds before the look of victory lit up her face. “Gotcha!”

Out she pulled a huge plastic bag of Skittles. “Did you hide that?” You laughed as she looked at the bag in her hands like it was her firstborn.

“Yeah- if my parents from candy they’d throw it out- a bottle of vodka, sure that’s fine but god forbid I eat a snack with sugar in it.”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t get your parents.”

“Yeah, I don’t either.” You could hear the shift in her voice. A tone that said more than her words ever could.

You desperately wanted to bring her back to earth with you, in the big kitchen with soft yellow lights and a big ass bag of Skittles. “So!” You clapped your hands together. “What game are you thinking?”

The shift happened again, this time back to the after-party giddiness. “Hmmm, I don’t know…. How about truth or dare?”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay- a throwback to 7th grade. I like it.”

You moved to the parlor (wow you forgot how rich Lottie was sometimes) and kneeled on one side of a coffee table, gesturing for Lottie to take the seat opposite of you.

“Alrighty, your idea so you go first, truth or dare?”

“Truth”

“Do you actually like Jackie or do you only talk to her for the team?”

Lottie made an affronted noise and leaned across the small table to hit you on the shoulder. You made a weak attempt to dodge her attack and laughed, “What?! You have to tell me! Honestly.”

She looked at you seriously but couldn’t hold the façade and laughed. “I can’t stand her”

“I knew it!”

“God don’t tell anyone! I just see how much she hurts Shauna and she doesn’t even realize it! Okay, your turn- truth or dare?”

“Okay- truth.”

“You’re so boring-“

“You literally picked the same thing!”

“Hmmmmm…” she bummed over you. And then squinted her eyes, sizing you up. “Did you actually fuck Randy after homecoming?”

“Oh my fucking god Lottie! No, Jesus, no!”

She laughed and put her hands up in surrender, “Hey I was just checking, that rumor was going around the school for weeks.”

You shuddered, “Lottie no- Randy? First of all- not my type. Second of all never even kissed anyone.”

She gave you a slightly shocked confused look, “I’m sorry what?”

“Yup. Kiss virgin over here.” You have a little laugh trying to lighten the mood.

“Okay, new game- spin the bottle.”

“It’s literally just us.”

“So?”

Your smile faded, the conversation taking a turn you were expecting, and we’re entirely ready for.

“Uh… here..” Lottie stood up and wandered from the room. Leaving you to gawk at where she had just been. You heard some shuffling from the other room, and then water running, before she reappeared- an empty beer bottle in hand. “I got it out of the trash- Don’t worry- I cleaned it.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “Are you being serious?”

Sometimes it was hard to tell when it came to Lottie, whether or not she was serious or just making a slightly off-kilter joke.

“Yeah- a throwback to 7th grade right?”

You took a deep breath as she sat back down across you and set the bottle on its side in front of you. “Right.”

“Go ahead.”

You quriked your eyebrow up

“Spin the bottle.”

“Oh yeah, duh.”

You grabbed the bottle and gave it a steady spin. You knew in your mind it really didn’t matter where it landed, after all there was literally only the two of you.

You must of spun it harder than you thought as the bottle spun and spun for what felt that minutes before lottie spoke up, “I can’t wait any longer.”

She basically lunched herself across the table, cupping your cheeks with both hands and giving you a long, hard kiss.

She pulled back, just a hair, and met your eyes. You could see the determination and sometime akin to passion. “Lot-” She cut you off with her lips, captured yours in a practiced dance.

You only pulled back when you thought you’d pass out from lack of air. “Jesus.”

“No, Just me.” She gave you a cheeky smile as she whipped her chin. “We should play that again sometime.”

“Okay but only when it’s just us.”

[mrzombielover]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRCjpdx4/

Doing this to könig,, thinking so hard rn

oh your mind is SO huge i couldn’t NOT write a lil drabble abt this…

wc; 921

link btw

warnings; criminally sweet fluff, mentions of blood, kind of est. relationship, reader stitches up könig, a lil suggestive

every time you see him without his mask, it takes your breath away again. it’s a relatively rare sight. he much prefers to keep it on, so you don’t push him about it.

and when he does show you his face, you try your hardest not to react to it. to remain casual and unbothered about it, as not to make him even more anxious. not a big deal. and despite how little he verbalizes it, könig shows his great appreciation in other ways, unspoken gratitude. a level of trust. this is why he comes to you post battle, or late at night.

“sorry… almost done,” you say softly, slowly securing the knot in the suture. könig’s fists clench and unclench as you carefully clean the skin around the wound, but he makes no fuss about the pain. he exhales sharply when the sterile cloth wipes over the fresh stitches.

“you know we have more qualified medics, right?” you chuckle.

“‘s just a scratch,” he mumbles.

“Mhmm…” a grin spreads across your face as you start to put the supplies back. “Think you just like me more,”

“mm,” he affirms, so faintly you almost missed it.

You turn back to him. he lets your hands trail up his bare chest, fingertips brushing over the edge of his mask. there’s a little blood staining the edges of it, and pushing it up a little reveals more dried blood over his collarbones.

“könig, can i…” you trail off, eyes flicking upwards to meet his. after a beat of silence, he sits up straight, pulling his helmet and hood off in one swoop. you avert your eyes when he places it on the table next to him, fidgeting with the nearby medical supplies.

könig turns back to you, watching as you pour saline solution on a cloth. even sitting on the bench, he’s substantially taller than you, so after a quick assessment of his condition, you decide he’s well enough for you to climb up with him. his eyes widen as you swing a leg over his lap without warning, hands instinctually finding your hips to keep you still.

König seems to relax more as you start to wipe off his collarbones and traps. most of the blood dried on his skin is old, and stems from his nose. a little clearing with a cloth reveals his nose has stopped bleeding by now, and there’s a deep laceration on his upper right trap, but he’s mostly fine.

“don’t think you’ll need stitches over here,” you murmur, mostly to yourself. you have to lean back for the box of dressings, reaching over to flip through the different types. his grip on your hips tightens just slightly, a little protectively to ensure you don’t fall off the counter.

you carefully spread the antibiotic ointment over his trap, before pressing the gauze and tape on.

“good as new,” you smile, patting his shoulders.

“thank you,” his voice is almost a whisper, face inching closer to yours as his hands slide up to your waist. his eyes slide shut, leaning in so his lips are just ghosting over yours.

you press your forehead to his, lips just about to connect- when you grab his face suddenly. he squeaks, eyes widening in surprise when you turn his face away from yours.

“lemme see your nose,” your press your face close to his, examining it carefully, first from the side and then straight on. könig’s expression remains mostly unchanged, but his cheeks are now considerably flushed. you don’t say anything, but the heat in his cheeks makes a sense of pride flood your heart, having to bite back a smirk.

“doesn’t look broken,” you pull back, letting your arms fall around his neck. “must’ve hurt, though,”

“not too bad,” he mutters, puffing up his chest a little.

“really?” you raise an eyebrow, “you don’t need a kiss better?” you smile playfully. he doesn’t say anything but you can see a second of consideration in his eyes, as his face grows even more impossibly red.

you lean forward and softly connect your lips with his, this time for real. he practically melts against you, large hands pulling you closer by your waist as he deepens the kiss.

he chases your lips when you pull away, big cobalt eyes fluttering open to meet yours. his eyebrows knit slightly as you study his face, growing more bashful under your intense gaze.

“you’re really pretty, you know that?” the words slip past your lips without even thinking about them, giving him a toothy grin.

“pretty?” he mumbles as you press a kiss to his cheek.

“yes. sehr schön,” you nod assertively, pressing another kiss to his other cheek. you giggle as his nose scrunches in embarrassment, face still reddening. he opens his mouth to speak, but says nothing, swallowing thickly at your onslaught of kisses.

“mm, so very handsome,” your hands come up from his neck and cup his face, pinching his cheeks affectionately. he whimpers as you move your face, begging to kiss down his neck.

“i mean it,” you add, hands falling down to his neck to his chest. you bend to his collarbone, looking up at him as you bite it gently. he whimpers again, letting his eyes slide shut. you softly kiss over the bite mark before sitting up straight.

“all better?”

“hm… ich weiß es nicht,” könig grins slyly, hands sliding down to your hips again. you squeal as he flips you on your back, both dissolving into giggling.

[slvttyplum]

✮ cleaning time with… | suguru geto

“okay now you want to take this and lightly wipe around it, my ears are sensitive.” he says leaning back in the chair.

you smile widely grabbing the q tip and saline solution.

you’ve always wanted to clean his piercings, it was the only thing on your mind some days. he wouldn’t let you at first.

claimed it was too much of a hassle, now this is your second time happily cleaning it.

he guides you through it, not knowing you already looked up articles and videos on how to do it.

you slowly slide the q tip over his ear and he lets out a moan.

you look down at him giggling to yourself, “you’ve never moaned like that for me.” you say jokingly, grabbing another q tip coating it with saline.

he smiles with his eyes closed, his hands reaching behind his chair giving your thighs a squeeze.

“mm lying are we?”

you lean down pressing a kiss to his temple, his scent entering your nose. he takes his hands off your thigh clasping them together in his lap.

even though this may seem regular for suguru, this was special to you. doing something like this for him was so… intimate.

it made you feel closer to him, happier, like he chose you to do this specific task.

you run the q tip through his other ear and he relaxes under your touch. you put the q tip to the side sliding something out your pocket.

you hold them to his face and he opens his eyes.

“oh shit… where’d you get these.”

you smile pulling them back taking them out the packaging. it was a pair of new gauges in the color dark purple.

“i have my ways.” you say spraying them down with saline.

he takes your hand looking at both the earrings smiling.

“okay all you want to do is just slide them in, nice in easy.” he says looking at you.

you nod your head doing as he says and slides the new ones in.

“tada!” your voice high and cheerful. he stands up and walks toward the mirror moving his head from left to right.

he turns back walking to you squeezing you into a bear hug holding you up.

“thank you baby, i love it… i love you.”

you wrap your arms around his neck kissing his all over, “i love you too.”

[biographydivider]

Disaster Twins gonna Disaster, no matter what future they’re in...

(inspired in part by @sheep-turtles-and-pizza‘s Future Twins comic)

They were infamous.

Leonardo and Donatello; the leader and the scientist, the stalwart hero and the stoic genius. There wasn’t a recuit in the resistance against the Krang that didn’t have a story about them; Leonardo bolstering the last dregs of their courage in dire moments of battle, leading them to victory with nothing more than a grin and a wink, Donatello terrifying them into silence in the mess hall with a cocked eyebrow as he worked on his latest project, subsisting on nothing but a salvaged pack of cigarettes and two hours’ sleep and still, somehow, coming up with wonders of technology that no-one else could have ever dreamed of.

Both Yokai cut an imposing figure on their own, but together? They were a force to be reckoned with; striding through the corridors of the resistance base, their eyes steely and determined as they talked strategy, Leonardo firing off rapid solutions to problems as Donatello proposed them. The very fate of the base - the resistance against the Krang - the world! - rested on their broad, shelled shoulders. Nothing could stand in their way, no-one could stop them on their mission to -- “DONNIE!”

Both turtles froze mid-step as the echoes of the scream bounced off the resistance base walls. It must have been a trick of the light, but it almost - almost! - looked like Donatello winced.

“Yeeees, dear sister?”

“I told you not to leave your shit lying around in the common room!”

“It isn’t ‘shit’, April,” Donatello called to the diembodied voice, “it’s a highly delicate peice of equiptment that --”

“Then why is it in the common room?!”

Donatello’s gaze didn’t so much hit the floor as plummet. “...because I was playing Purple Game 3 last night while I finished it.”

“Oooooooooh,” Leonardo sang, nudging his brother in the ribs. “You’re in troooouble --”

“Nardo. Do not.”

“You’re gonna get groooouuundeeeeed --”

“Push.”

There were about twelve members of the resistance who saw what happened next. And no-one ever believed them when the told the tale.

“Ow! What the hell, D?!” Leonardo bounced off the wall his brother shoved him into, tackled him to the ground and...and licked the most amazing scientific mind of their generation from chin to temple. “Blllaaaaaaaaaaaaaurgh.”

“Ewwwww, Leo! Sweet Galileo, you absolute reprobate --”

“Dunno what that means, so I’ll take it as a compliment - no, Donnie, not the pits, don’tpokemeinthearmpits --!”

“GUYS.”

Both turtles froze in place as a pair of bright yellow combat boots stomped down the corridor towards them. Slowly - guiltily - they got to their feet.

Not many members of the resistance had known Master Splinter. But what they did know - because they’d heard it so many times, being yelled across the base and screamed on the battlefield - who had been left in charge of his four legendary sons when he died.

The tall, dark-haired woman stopped in front of Leonardo and Donatello; foot tapping, arms crossed, expression grim.

“Fighting? Really?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Yeah, we were. But he started it.”

“Whaaaaaaaat?! How....dare you...”

Unfortunately, Donatello’s dramatics could not halt the commander in her stride. She’d seen it all before. “You think we have the resources to fix these walls if you dum-dums break ‘em? Nuh-uh! I thought you were grown men now, but clearly I was wrong. Guess I’ll have to separate you.” Leonardo was spun around on his heel and swatted on the back. “You? Go that way. Make yourself useful in the training room with Cass.”

“But I’ve got a War Room meeting in five!”

“Tough. March.”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Lenoardo grumbled as he huffed back the way he’d came. “Jeeeeez, thirty years old an’ I just got my War Room privileges taken away.”

“That’s right, you did. And you --” Donatello was dragged by the wrist into the common room. “Get whatever that bucket of bolts is cleaned up, before someone trips and breaks their neck. And give me that!”

“Hey! That’s my last cigarette!”

“It’s a filthy habit, D. You’ve been told. If you can’t stop cold turkey, I’ll have to tell Libby from Supplies to cut you off.”

“Okay okay! Alright, I’ll stop. Just...don’t embarass me in front of Libby from Supplies, m’kay?”

Watching her brother stoop down to sort his tech into manageable piles, the commander folded her arms with a smirk. “Oh? And why’s that? You got a lil’ cruuuuuush? Got a lil’ crush, huh Donnie?”

A wrench was thrown. It missed by a mile.

“Cease, you mortfying harpy!”

“Clear up your shit, then.”

“Ffffffffffffine.”

Leonardo and Donatello were infamous. But Commander April O’Neil was legendary.

[pure-garbage]

Soap And Blood! Hide My Pain In Your Palms

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Smut. Minors DNI

Zoro folded himself into the water and found Lana was right. The heat of her body may not have left it warm, but it had taken the bitter edge off the chill. A reverent shudder ripped through him as Lana took his place on the basin's edge. Despite her provocative rhetoric, the water was still clean enough for him to see the bottom of the tub through the red haze that filled the soapy water. He sighed in surrender as Lana pulled the sopping rag up and started cleaning gingerly around the cuts on his back.

"Seems like he went harder on you than me and Nami," she observed, tone wavering unhappily. "Why'd you have to mock him like that, huh? I could have taken it, you know."

"I know. I didn't want you to."

"And it didn't occur to you that I don't want to see you hurt either?"

"I told you to look away. Ow!"

She pinched his cheek hard enough to smart.

"That's not the solution."

"Oh? Then what is?"

"Well obviously, we both need to keep training until we're so strong no one can every lay a finger on us again."

"That is obvious. Sorry."

"What for?"

"For not being strong enough."

She laughed at him and pressed a kiss to his temple.

"I just watched you rip iron chains out of solid stone with your bare hands. I'm hardly disappointed in you."

"Am I clean enough yet?"

"Almost. You know, Zoro..." Lana trailed off, sighing heavily.

"What is it?"

"Some of these will scar," she traced around the edges of the deepest wounds with her fingertips somberly.

"So? You worried I'll be ugly?" he asked, turning to cock an eyebrow at her. Vanity wasn't among the flaws he attributed to her.

"I could care less," she assured him. "It's just... I've heard you say..."

"Oh."

Zoro instantly knew what she was thinking of.

"I got these marks defending what's mine," he declared decisively. "I'll wear them with pride. These are badges of honor."

Lana bit her lip and tugged him closer urgently. He caught a glimpse of something feral lurking in her dark eyes.

"Out!" she demanded vehemently. "Get out of the water!"

Zoro went willingly, excitedly sliding forward into her embrace. His lips sought hers and found them, their tongues meeting again in a fevered, ravenous tango as they slipped on the water pooling on the floor around their knees. Lana moaned breathlessly, then gasped harshly in pain.

"Mm! My shoulder!"

"Right, right," Zoro adjusted his grip on her, leaning back on his haunches and pulling her into his lap. "Gotta watch our backs too," he reminded her.

"Mm-hm!"

She lifted off his lap, scrambling desperately, clumsily to guide him inside of her. She settled down onto him with a sound that was almost closer to a sob than a moan, hands roaming greedily to feel every sharp angle and defined curve of his body she could reach. Zoro threw one hand back to support them, bracing precariously against the slippery floor as her hips rocked into his erratically. He tangled his other hand deep into her hair while she gasped and moaned, her breath hot and moist on his lips. His tongue darted out to taste her and hers responded in kind.

There was something raw in the way she clutched him, the soft sounds she made close to whimpers as she ground into him. Her right hand gripped his arm tight, her left sprawled over the back of his neck, pulling his lips to hers zealously. Her tongue sought the deepest reaches of his mouth like he was hiding something from her there, something she might die if she didn't find. He thought he tasted salt, thought he felt fresh wetness on her cheeks, so he broke their kiss to search her eyes and found her weeping quietly.

"Lana!"

She shushed him, one finger brushing his lips as tears streamed profusely down her cheeks, unchecked as she shook in his embrace. She hid her face in the curve of his neck.

"Hold me tighter," she begged, her low voice breaking at his ear. He complied at once, strong arms wrapping around her shoulders and waist, trying to avoid the stripes scattered across her back as he locked her against him.

'I'll kill the bastard!' he thought vehemently, before remembering that the vermin was already dead.

"We can stop," he managed, heart breaking for his lover as she stilled in his lap. "Want to stop?"

"Don't stop! Don't let me go!"

"I won't."

He tightened his hold on her, taking over their rhythm. He kept their slow, steady pace faithfully while she shook in his arms, lips parted against the skin of his neck. He could feel her deep, measured breaths dragging past his pulse, could feel her heartbeat pounding against his chest. Her nails dug into his back, but he bit off his hiss of pain and let her use his body to moor herself. Her words echoed through his mind.

'These lips are yours, Zoro.'

'Take what you need, Lana,' he thought, muffling a groan of pain in her hair as her teeth sank viciously into his shoulder. 'It's all yours already anyway.'

His breath started to come harder, but he forced it to even out again. His shallow thrusts faltered, prompting him to adjust his grip on her.

"Lana! I'm gonna go deeper!" he rasped in warning.

"Good!" she hummed against his shoulder. She seemed to remember herself, loosening her death grip on his back and soothing the teeth marks on his shoulder with her tongue.

"Hold on tight."

He rose up onto his knees and Lana quickly wrapped her legs around his waist in response.

"Zoro!"

She moaned his name blissfully, sinking to take him fully as he put his strength on display, supporting her weight like it was nothing. She threw her head back, rewarding his long, powerful strokes with the breathless chorus of her pleasure. His lips skimmed her exposed throat as she arched against him, both her hands sliding up into his hair and pulling his mouth to her skin more firmly. Lana's ragged breaths only grew more frenzied as she yearned for Zoro's teeth, nails dragging over his scalp in encouragement as she felt him marking her, panting and moaning against her throat with abandon of his own.

Lana wanted Zoro to devour her. She wanted him to take and take from her until she was completely empty, until she had nothing left to give. She wanted him to hollow her out with his hands and his tongue and his hunger, wanted him to take away her memories of the day with every other part of her he consumed. He had no way of knowing her desperate, desolate thoughts, but the urgency with which he touched her made it seem like he'd read her desire and was rushing to fulfill it.

In reality, Zoro hadn't read Lana's mind. His thrusts grew sharper, his kisses messier, his grip tighter because he was nearing his end. He gasped and sighed her name, his groans of restraint changing pitch and betraying his flustered state. Lana smiled, knowing from experience he would try to hold out for her. He would stay here, trembling against her on the washroom floor, all night if she let him. She kissed his racing pulse, right hand stroking up and down his side, soothing, encouraging.

"I'm finished," she assured him coaxingly, tongue playing at his ear. "Your turn now."

"You didn't!" he growled accusingly, fingers digging into her thighs as her body rocked against his. "I can tell, you know!"

He sounded so affronted, Lana had to hold back a giggle.

"I got everything I wanted," she promised, dragging her nails up and down the back of his neck, scraping through the sweat collecting there.

"Lana!" he whined. He was too close to keep fighting, especially with her urging him over the edge.

"I'm ready to stop now," she sighed, closing her teeth around his earlobe and pulling. "Let me feel you... come for me, Zoro..."

He loosed a string of curses, leaning forward to rest her on the tub's edge as he helplessly caved to her sultry demand. Lana leaned back, one hand shooting out to support herself while the other pulled Zoro close again. She drank his final moans, savoring his loss of composure as he fell apart against her.

'He only breaks this way for me,' she thought with satisfaction. She took a turn holding him as his ecstatic throes settled and his gasped moans quieted.

"I have no clothes," she informed him softly. "Bring me some?"

He nodded against her chest and she released him so he could slip into his pants. He left her for a moment, returning with an outfit of hers just as she started the tub draining.

"I don't think I've ever been so tired in my life," she muttered, accepting his help sliding into the shirt.

"Come on," he coaxed her. "It's still early. Dinner's gonna be ready soon."

"I'm too tired to eat," she moaned, melting into his arms again. "Wanna take a nap."

"Come on then."

On impulse, he swept her off her feet, carrying her through the ship bundled against his bare chest bridal style. She folded into him gratefully, sighing heavily when he deposited her onto the ship's only proper bed.

"Nami's gonna make us move later," she griped as Zoro settled down beside her. She pulled him on top of her, smothering herself in his warmth and the musky scent that she now found so comforting. It was rare for him to smell so fresh, soap erasing all the sweat and brine, leaving only sake, Zoro and still, strangely, that mysterious hint of grapefruit.

"She can try," he mumbled, the words rumbling deep in his chest. He wove his fingers through hers with his last shred of conscious effort as the day's weariness crashed over him in a devastating, all-consuming wave. They were out like a pair of lights before either could worry about convincing Nami to surrender the bed for one night.

________________________________________________

Nami drifted from the area of the Merry's cabin that served as Chopper's office. He'd done little more than clean her wounds. She found herself over Lana and Zoro, watching them snore raucously in their sleep. Zoro's body completely covered Lana's, but she didn't seem bothered by his weight.

'Hard to be bothered by anything when you're knocked out that hard,' Nami noted.

"Think I should wake them to eat?" Sanji asked, appearing at her side.

"No, they're fine," Nami sighed.

"What the hell happened back there anyway?"

"I... I'd like to talk about it, but maybe after dinner," Nami sighed. "I'm starving."

"Come on then," Sanji urged her. "I made soup. It'll do you a lot of good."

"Thanks, Sanji. That sounds perfect."

Nami decided she would let her friends have the bed she usually claimed as hers, just for one night. She owed them that much after the day they'd all been through together.

___________________________________________________

<== Previous Chapter

Next Chapter ==>

== First Chapter ==

[ririumuwashere]

'My Spiderling' 2/?

Let's just say this was previously on an unannounced hiatus

Yesterday had easily been one of the most agonizing days of the year for all animatronics in the Pizzaplex. A golden chance in which not one, not two, hell, not even three but seven kids had their birthday all on the same day.

 As DJ MM’s systems boot up he vaguely recalls Freddy having sent him a message detailing just how absolutely trashed the rest of the Pizzaplex was. Which DJ can now see as a reason for the fact that they will not be opening today. That of course rarely happens but it’ll take the Cleaning Bots hours to even get the Pizaaplex usable again.  

His joints click in use as he sits up and looks up. His systems do a quick diagnostic check before he hears your signature footsteps. The fast scuttling noise grows near as he looks up to find you staring down at him from one of his tunnels. Flashing the colors on your abdomen and doing a small dance. Your way of telling him good morning he’s come to understand. Raising your front arms and waving them, as you gesture to his back he grimaces. Yes… He recalls vividly now how messy he is. While you did try to clean him up yesterday he is still rather unkempt. Which unfortunately means you still have work to do once again today and he bows his head in apology over that. But you as usual wave it off and gesture for him to bring his hand ever closer.

It takes him a moment to realize what you intend to do but once he notices he brings his hand close enough for you to climb upon. Once he does so he brings you close enough to hop onto his back. Pulling out a company-provided and branded rag and bottle of clean solution to get the spilled soda and snack crumbs out from his joint crevices. 

Clicking and chirping as you talk to him. You relayed the state of the rest of the Pizzaplex as you soaked the rag. Scampering across his back and rubbing the rag across the metal creases between his legs and arms. Taking care to remember the joint of his neck as well. Your touch was gentle and diligent as you scrubbed away the gunk and filth from his exterior. Chirping happily and smiling as you did so. 

Despite the fact that it would likely take hours to get him in the right condition for him to do so much as move you were persistent in getting him to said condition. And he was happy enough to sit still and let you do so. Knowing just how testy you could get if he were to interrupt your work with something other than a conversation. Somehow when you had first arrived he had thought you wouldn’t enjoy talking to him.

Although he was quickly proven wrong with just how much of a chatterbox you were. Almost always having something to say and not being all that fond of the silence. You had told him many times before that it always felt deafeningly loud, and that you needed something to cut in between it lest you lose your motivation. DJ’s eyes widened at the sound of a loud electronic yawn and he soon perked up. He rarely spoke out loud to anyone besides you and Freddy but that wouldn’t stop him from looking over his shoulder to ask if that was you. “Was that you, little one?” A meek nod is all he needs to confirm his suspicions and his booming laugh rang out a moment later as he reached a hand to rub a finger over your head. 

He raises a bushy brow as he reminds you. “You know you can take a break, right?” You simply nod and insist on finishing up with cleaning him. Using the excuse that you only had a few more sections before he was back in working order. But the pause you had in between your words for another yawn made him squint at you incredulously. But nonetheless, he dropped the topic knowing you wouldn’t give in to your ‘Puny mortal-like exhaustion’ you had called it once before. 

Although he did of course notice when you slowed down on your intense scrubbing session. Your movements grew increasingly sluggish as time went by until he could no longer feel your insistent scrubbing. The sensation was replaced with a sudden weight upon his back that made him peer over his shoulder once more to check up on you. And just as he had suspected would happen you were fast asleep on his back. Your hands curl closer to your upper abdomen prompting him to pluck you off his back and rest you in his palms. 

He could have told you ten times over that this would happen but it was always a workout to get you to listen to warnings such as those. A through and through workaholic he’d call you. But now he was more keen on watching you snore in his hands and nudging your cheek gently. His eyes went wide for a moment when your hands reach and grab his finger. A small smile stretched across his face after the shock had passed. Gods were you insufferable when you were ready. 

882 words

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Hope you had a nice Valentines day. I was wondering if you had any prompts for a pred boyfriend eating his significant other.

Wasn’t up to much but still a good day. And yeah, I can figure something out for that! Probably just merge this one together with another ask that wanted some V.alentine's themed prompts. And we'll do it with some classic A and B!

It was supposed to be a nice dinner date between the two of them for V.alentine's day. It'd gone well--dinner was homemade by A, and B always loved A's food. They ate and talked and it was a wonderful night...but B's belly grumbled even after picking his steak clean. He tried to steal from A's plate, and at first it seemed playful, but then B took it by force and scarfed down A's half-eaten steak. When A demanded that wasn't for B, B offers him a solution--going in and getting it! That's how A got dragged right over his carefully set tablet and right into B's drooling jaws. A few gulps and slurps later and B's belly pushes out of his shirt, some buttons popping off as it gets stuffed with another human being. B sits back, belching crassly and patting his gut a few times as A squirms around. He picks lazily at his teeth with a toothpick. The table gets knocked over after getting knocked into by B's stomach but he doesn't mind at all. Dinner ended up being far more delicious than he expected. Two steaks and a boyfriend...nothing better to end Valentine's day with. Hopefully, his new boyfriend can do better next year...A's likely not even going to make it to the next day. This seems to happen every year but, if you asked B, he'd say it's more of a tradition. Nothing goes better for this time of year than snacking on a loving boyfriend.

"That's so sweet of you!" A gushes as he sees the delicious treats set out before him. B made sure to get some wonderful meals for his boyfriend for Valentine's day--three men tied up with red and pink ribbons, sitting on the couch. None of them are aware of what's actually going on, eyes covered by those ribbons. "I mean, your brothers and dad? You're just the best." A gives B a kiss on the cheek and then goes over to the trio of men. They all thought it was going to be some special surprise for A that they were doing as a favor for B which...isn't totally false. When the first brother gets his head engulfed, hsi voice is too muffled to be heard clearly, but the other two notice something is wrong from the muffled yells and wet slurps. The other brother wiggles enough to get his blindfold off just to see A slurping up a pair of kicking feet. He screams and finds he's next in line to get shoveled into that drooling maw. That gets the dad to start moving around, starting to get his binds undone. He's on his feet by the time the second brother is halfway down and tries to get him free...but that just helps A slurp down a pair of legs and a pair of arms. And then the dad is going down the hatch in big, messy gulps, all while B watches from the sidelines. A sits back on the couch, gulping hard as he sends the last of the dad down. His gut is bare, bulging heavily as the three men thras around inside. B gets hit with a big belch in the face that smells vaugely of his family, which is followed by a kiss. "You really are the best," A says with a grin. He rubs his gut. "I was worried you wouldn't let me eat them but...mm...couldn't imagine getting them served to me like this. Now get over here and rub my gut. You've got all night with this thing." B was more than happy to oblige, and the two would be like that for the rest of V.alentine's, spending the day happily together. But of course...there's one last treat that A wants to complete the set. A delicious little dessert. So, by the end of the night, A slurps up B's legs and lets out a thick belch at the end, his boyfriend sloshing into the sludge his family made. "Aaah...sorry, babe. Felt wrong breaking up the whole family~" He snickers and rubs his gut, waddling to bed to sleep his meal off. What a great day...

"You're breaking up with me on V.alentine's day?" A demands in disbelief. B rubs the back of his neck, looking away. "Look, I didn't want to go through all the date stuff when I'm just not into it," B admits with a shrug. "And I have other plans so..." "Other plans?! You're already dating someone else?! You jackass!" A was about to go on a long rant--part of why B was sick of him--but B really didn't have time to wait. C was waiting for him and...well, B did promise him something nice today. So, while he's midrant, B grabs A and shovels the man's head into his jaws. He gulps and slurps, sending his ex down with gusto, not bothering to savor him so he could get moving. If he's quick, he can get back in time. He gets A's legs down as he gets into his car and drives off, having to work around the big gut. "If it helps, I do this with all my exs!" B says to his sloshing gut as A screams and squirms inside. "It's not like we're really breaking up if you're padding me out, right? Yeah?" That doesn't seem to calm A down but...oh well. By the time he's back at his apartment, he'll get to spend the day with C, who was more than happy to tend to his stomach. Though C proved to be a bit...smothering. It's only been one month since they kinda got together and he's already talking about marriage and kids and...B panicked! So B goes to bed extra stuffed that night, huffing as he lugs a limp A and shifting C to bed. "Ugh...breaking up with two boyfriends in one day...never doing that again..." He belches and gets into bed to sleep it all off. What a crappy V.alentine's day, B thinks...well, it'll be crappy in the morning, at least.

[pr1ncesspopstar]

Heaven or Low Skies - FFXIV Write 2024 - Day 13: Butte

Dawntrail Spoilers Ahead!

Ao3

-

It was only here that she missed the heavy heat of Tural’s air.

Halditar knew what she was getting into (otherworldly surprises notwithstanding) when she agreed to aid Wuk Lamat in the Rite of Succession. She studied the land decently, looking over the books in Sharlayan to know what and what not to bring. Being a roe with fair skin and red hair, she was more inclined to flourish in colder or temperate shores rather than areas with constant summers. She still sweat like a pig, any flask or battle she carried that once held alcohol or some other drink swapped for water with ice crystals poured in to offer some respite when hacking through the jungle or desert. The twins teased her for being vigorous with her sun shields, but in the end she was the one laughing as the only she and diligent Y’shtola didn’t end up with some kind of sunburn (or poisoning, in poor Estinien’s case) when they could truly, finally relax. It was as deadly a force as the monsters, in some ways.

Yet it was for Halditar that would have gladly taken a hundred times over compared to the air of Yyasulani. The imbalance was palpable on her skin, tasting metal on her tongue and the static building beneath her feet. Various lighting rods that decorated the land promised no accidents, but still. The very sky seemed to hold back tears. Ones that begged to be released and allow relief to wash over the land. Drown out the heavy air full of ozone that came only before a storm and allow the cycle of nature to continue anew.

But it never would. Yyasulani and Heritage Found would be perpetually bound to the sweltering heat of Tural, or the skies that cast a curse of lightning upon the merged territory.

The redhead tore her eyes away from the sky and forward once more, mindlessly twirling her fingers through the bangs framing her face as she kept her eyes out for monsters. No sound came from behind, a good sign in her mind. Erenville was quiet by nature. It would only be if she heard the opposite that concern might strike her.

The request had been sudden; the shetona visiting her room on the docks to request her aid. To guard him as she returned to his home village, and searched his home for anything worth holding onto. Her response was swift, and by the next dawn they were riding upon rroneek down roads ‘long untraveled.’

Their seats upon the furry steeds gave them height to scout camping grounds for the night, but also the repairs happened. The fortress wall was being converted into a train depot, and those rails that had rusted in the 30 year difference between in and outside of the dome. As ever, the dark-skinned man watched with eyes ever unreadable and pressed on. Halditar followed, knowing it was not her place to feel too strongly the relief for connections bridging Solution Nine and Tuliyollal now, or sadness that whatever the landscape once was of this beautiful land would never be the same to those that knew it before.

She gave Erenville the quiet and space he needed. Offering her actions to speak louder than words, assuring him she would handle the heavy duties of cooking and cleaning their camp. She was there to support him, however much he needed.

Footsteps from behind gave her cause to turn. Erenville held his head high, but the slight backwards tilt of his ears told her that if he felt he could, he would lower his head and avoid her gaze. She paid no mind, more than sympathetic to such a feeling as time had gone on.

“I’ve gotten all that I can. Did you see anywhere to set up camp?”

“Mm-hmm. We’ll have to ride my draught chocobo to reach it, but there’s a small rocky outcropping just a little south of here that looks promising. Not too high, small trees for shade, looks secure.”

“Alright, lead the way.” They set off, the clouded sky cackling with aethereal memories of a land beyond.

-

The sky was no calmer come night. Darker, flashes of purple, yellow, and the occasional deceitful streak of red often overshadowed the light cast by their campfire, warm and fueled by the dried desert grass and trees killed by the overcharge of the earth. Their tents were small, Erenville’s nicer than Halditar since the roe made a point of returning to a bed in a city each night, rather than roughing it.

Her tools were perfectly equipped for the situation, with the ceramic pot easily handling the fire’s heat while she added the final spices. White pepper to taste. She would have liked a stronger kick, but her companion had little favor for strongly spiced foods and she would do right by him.

Beyond sparse words, their night had been silent save for the rumblings of the sky. The clouds seemed to look close as, piece by piece, Erenville would pull items from his bag. Some she recognized. Gleaner journal, compass, some Sharlayan devices that certainly had some niches function.

And others she did not. Small pots with little designs painted on, chipped from use and age. Books so dusty they seemed they might fall apart at too rough a flip. Wooden decorations and stone designs she had no clue of, but knew their importance if salvaged from the house’s remains. Slowly but surely, with each item removed, that stony mask the viera donned chipped. Brow furrowed, fingers curled and trembled. Small, but after so long together, she knew now.

“Erenville,” she called to him. As he looked up, she held out a bottle to him. Some Mezcal she bought, filled with honey and fruits to infuse the flavors. She had intended to use it for cooking, to make an alcoholic iced drink like the ones she and Urianger enjoyed together. Here, it may serve a more comforting purpose.

He took it solemnly, forgoing a cup to pop the cork and drink straight from the bottle. She wouldn’t have minded if he had pulled out a cup, but his action showed that he understood her offering. A bottle and burden shared was lessened in the culture for both Hellguards and the Sea Wolves. It was the best way to make someone understand. Whether it was water or liquor, the intent was ever the same. And when the bottle returned to her hand, she sipped. It was cloyingly sweet, just as she had intended it to be, feeling the faint heat still kissing the rim from Erenville’s sampling. A hint of bitter and salt followed the flavor, tears that refused to shed. The burden shared.

They passed the bottle back and forth, sipping the syrupy liquid as the smell of lighting and petrichor kneeled to the sweet aromas coming from her pot. With a few slices of toasted bread on the side to soak the broth, she ladled the broccoflower stew generously for the both of them. Halditar sat beside Erenville, a thin blanket the only thing protecting the both of them from the sand beneath them.

They ate and ate and ate. Perhaps it was exhaustion from the long journey, or emotions built up that sapped their energy, but the stew was tasty, the fire sounded comforting, and the feeling of their bodies next to each other made the sparse landscape spread before them seem not-so-uncanny. When the stew was gone, they moved to the bottle, drinking until they reached the fruits at the bottom. Halditar poured them into a bowl, and with small spoons, they picked and ate the softened, gooey berries as a dessert. The fire became embers and coals, floating into the sky and fizzing out into purple sparks. Stolen by the residual soul that claimed this land once more.

A pressure fell onto her arm. She didn’t need to glance down to know he leaned against her now, his ears pinned back as she felt them brush the back of her arm. She didn’t shift, only moving her hand to give a comforting pat and rub to his knee, the most she could do without crossing a boundary she felt.

“I can’t tell what exactly stings the most anymore.” Erenville’s voice was quiet, slightly hoarse. She believed it was from the liquor and sugar affecting his throat and feelings he was choking down. “How many people willingly gave it all up. Our lives, our home and way of life. That there are things I’ll never be able to save and preserve. Or just never getting to see her, my real mother again. I can still barely wrap my head around it… She was still young, and I’ll never know how she passed.”

“It comes and goes. One moment it’s one, the next another, sometimes all three at once and I…” he quivered, barely keeping the words that may unravel him in. As she looked at the fire, tinting with purple as the fire aether succumbed to lighting, she felt his eyes bore into her. “Will it get easier? This grief, this loss of ties?”

Halditar had never told Erenville of who she was, where she came from. He had no clue those were questions she asked herself when thinking of her mother’s grave, the city in the north her grandfather lived in, the lands beyond her tower window she so wished to know and learn from more than outdated books. A place she couldn’t return to if she valued her life, threads she had to sever for her survival. He was not asking Snoebryda, the lonely child of the Roegakoan. He was asking Halditar, the hero who had shouldered loss at a scale incomprehensible to most, friends and strangers alike, gone.

But, unable to help but feel this part of her knew best, she let Snoebryda answer.

“No. It will hurt like a bitch every time it sneaks up on you. It might even get worse. Mourning, holding onto the memory, may never feel like enough. You’ll think things you shouldn’t, might even start believing lies you tell yourself too…” Halditar shifted, moving her arm only to wrap around Erenville’s shoulder gently, holding him closer. “But you learn to live. At first, despite it. And then, alongside it. And finally, at least according to those beyond me, you live because of it. The pain stays the same, but it gets smaller and smaller. Sometimes it will still hit your heart where it hurts, but it’s okay. New joys help, they give you reason, and make that grieving precious in a way.”

Erenville nodded, accepting her words in silence. Occasionally, another question would crop up between the two, about their grief, about their losses. Halditar would ask him questions about growing up in Yyasulani and he would answer. She ignored the wetness building on her side where Erenville leaned, making a comment or minding. Going until the fire went dark and their throats were sore from whispering between the thunder’s goading laugh.

Come morning, they packed away any remark of their puffy eyes and the night before, along with the campsite.

[toiletology]

The cats MEOW

The famous "M" on the tabby cat. Is it just a random m-ar-KING or was it placed there by GOD to give you a clue to the real nature of reality?

Luckily for you my name is MATT and I am the king of the cats so I already know answer.

M = 13th letter or 1+3 = 4. There are 4 lines in the letter M.

Why is that important? Well my dear Watson M represents TIME or ME/WE (turn the e = mm).

The M has 4 lines or 11:11 which can also be read as 77:77.

Like I've written in my previous blogs heaven and hell exist now ALL around you.

There are 49 degrees in HELL (TT/77/LL) and 49 degrees in heaven.

HELL on a calculator spells out 4377 or 777 (43 or 34 is also 17+17).

17 = GOD

G = 7 O = 6 D = 4 Add it up = 17

To escape hell you must dial "key" or "halo" on a phones keypad (not literally, its just a clue numbskull).

To get your CROW/N 🐦‍⬛ you must find the 73 or the 777 LUCK .

T (top) = 7 (luck) or L (low)

T > UR > KEY 🦃 (DUH!).

The t is a cross or two lines intersecting and X marks the spot! (jackass ;)

TT = Pi or a doorway/portal/wormhole out of the MATrix.

This universe (you <> aNd <> eye) that we all live in is GODS beaver dam. Gods creative power is always flowing like an endless river. This universe became Gods solution to slow their flow into a less chaotic random mess.

The 7 or T is your key to escape (1/7 to be exact). You gotta split the red sea/see (C light).

And the color GREEN = 49.

To pay your respects "F" you must plant your FLAG.

"grace" = 34 (Ordinal) or 17 + 17.

A ladybug is red 🐞which can mean luck or it can mean stop 🛑 or something bad.

The color "RED" can be both a sCARy color or a color that can be beautiful like a rose or painted lips.

"red" = 27 (Ordinal) or two sevens (49)

The first color of the light spectrum is RED and there are 7 colors to the rainbow. You need to FEEL the colors more so than see them.

The same goes true for LETTERS and NUMBERS they are all sentient and the way (way = mat) GOD will speak to you.

To unlock the secrets of the 11:11 (77:77) or the M box you must learn to SEE, HEAR, FEEL on an extremely DEEP level. The FORCE is real, but you can't FORCE it, you must allow GOD to FLOW through you naturally and AUTHENTICALLY.

M = A but how?

M = 4

A = 4 (A represents Apple, Compass, Illusion, Eye, AH)

FORMAT > 4 M@ (@ = AT/Compass, apple, AH, eye, illusion)

A, I, O are interchangeable. The MOT/HER can also be MAT.

HER/MIT ;)

M = IT (I = 1, T = 7) S/HE IS THE EVENING, S/HE IS EVE! The Porcelain Goddess, you must keep the queen clean!

This reality is a holo-fractal clock and works on time. You escape the MATrix by improving your TIMING. The apple is the illusion, the mirrors represent positive (love) or negative (fear).

🪞🍎🪞

Snake = Ground/Gravity/Pain/Fear/Devil

SNAKE or S is the SIX/6 🐍 the 6 is the BUG 🐞the devil is just a ladybug, but the bug grows stronger the more you feed IT.

The S can also be read as an M (flip it around) you must learn to transmute the chaos into order.

SNAKE PLISSKEN = SNAKE LISTEN or SNAKE IS IN, L is IN. (Combine the L with the I = LI = U now re-read it US IN, the P is just a tongue but can be a lower b p and the one true God is the QUEEN BEE 🐝)

The snake can be both good or bad and everything in-between. To interpret the SIX takes practice. It can be a sign you are getting SICK or more BUGGED. The 6 can be the HOOK of the devil bringing you down low. But don't forget JESUS was also a fisherman and that HOOK can also bring you up which can become a 9.

Nine = N (look at the letter it is two sevens/77).

So are you in (R-U-N) or are you Not? The seven can bring you UP or it can bring you 7/Low.

Don't get trapped by heLLs Ls you must increase your L/7/T/luck. The 7 is how you escape the CUBE (6 sides 8 corners its missing the 7).

What is 17+17? 34 What is 34+34? 68

What is 49+49? 98

There are 49 degrees to he77, and 49 degrees to heaven.

"heaven" = 107 (Reverse)

0 is the finally degree or the O or your way OUT (two/11). Read OUT backwards it is TOU/TWO or the 11 or 77. Are you starting to get it now?

37 (777), 77 (49) to escape the cube/chessboard you need the 77s.

The queen in chess is the strongest and luckiest piece and she moves 27 squares or two sevens and crosses seven 3 times. There are 64 squares on a chessboard or two 8s. (49/64). 8 = ate/eat/eight.

8 = 1 + 7, there are 17 chromosome pairs in the APPLE, @, A.

ATE = MAT (turn the E)

M can be read as a 3 or a 13 (1+3 = 4) or 3 & 4 (17+17). To escape the MATrix you must become a bee 🐝🍯and GOD is the Queen Bee.

"queen bee" = 34 (Chaldean) "queen" = 27 (Keypad) "queen" = 21 (Septenary) 7+7+7 "queen" = 73 (Reverse) "bee" = 8 (Keypad) "be" = 7 (Ordinal) "be" = 7 (Septenary) "be" = 7 (Chaldean) "heart" = 52 (Ordinal) "heart" = 17 (Chaldean) "hear" = 17 (Septenary) "feel" = 17 (Reverse Reduction) "sing" = 49 (Ordinal) "sing" = 21 (Keypad) "hymm" = 49 (Reverse) "humble" = 28 (Keypad) "God" = 17 (Reduction) "lord" = 49 (Ordinal) "lord" = 21 (Keypad) "goddess" = 73 (Ordinal) "goddess" = 34 (Septenary) "goddess" = 33 (Keypad) "goddess" = 28 (Reduction)

GEMATRIA = MATs AIR EGG, yep we are ALL (ATT) floating on MATTs EGG. You sleep on MATTress everynight, you get married in MATrimony, you give birth MATernity, we are all MATTer. To escape the MATrix you need to understand the MATh. I can only show you the door = MAT you must walk through it.

M I A = MATT, split the i or eye (I AM <> MATT).

The true name of GOD is both MOT/or/CAR or MATT and KARMA.

M = OT or M = OUT. K = A (turn it) E = M (turn it) Y = T (turn it)

"key" = 17 (Keypad) "mat" = 7 (Reduction) "mat" = 34 (Ordinal) "matt karma" = 98 (Ordinal) "matt karma" = 27 (Septenary) "matt karma" = 46 (Keypad) "matt karma" = 64 (Reverse Reduction) "matt cara" = 77 (Ordinal) "matt cara" = 37 (Keypad) "matthew bennett walker cara jocelyn delevingne" = 444 (Ordinal) "matthew bennett walker" = 111 (Reverse Reduction) "cara Jocelyn delevingne" = 111 (Reverse Reduction)

This reality functions on TIME (it me), time acts as the walls or prison bars to this reality.

The M is one of the keys out. You must learn to FEEL and move the letters and numbers around in your mind like a Rubik's cube to decode it on the fly. You can't take letters or numbers at face value because they can become distorted by your disharmony or interpretation of them. God speaks many layers deep, so you can't rely on your brain only the FEELING combined with your knowledge of Toiletology.

Like I said before a 6/six could be making you sick, or it can be making you SICK as in a bad ass.

Feeling confused yet? F = EEL or ILL which is a word that can mean sick or you're sick with it.

F can also mean RESPECT or represent a FLAG. It takes time to be able to interpret these "codes" or "errors" that's exactly what it is. GOD made us perfect in their image, except that we are ALL kind of BUGGY.

"buggy" = 27 (Keypad) "buggy" = 73 (Reverse) "bug" = 14 (Keypad)

To escape the MATrix or MOT you need to start noticing your "glitches", "bugs", "errors", "typos", "mistakes", and "accidents."

GOD speaks to US and gives us clues on how to FIND them through these error correcting codes. We aren't in a simulation but it does operate like a computer the way God designed it. Our glitchy programming is the backdoor to escape hell into heaven. I have discovered this (with my cosmic sisters help of course) this backdoor and the door = mat.

Not only is there programming in the underlying fabric of reality which is completely undetectable (until now). God designed reality like a video game. And just like a video game there are cheat codes.

It is possible to escape this holo-fractal MATrix through a backdoor and the door = 17

"backdoor" = 33 (Reduction) "backdoor" = 69 (Ordinal) "doormat" = 86 (Ordinal) or 98/68 half of 86 = 43, half of 68 = 34, half of 98 = 49. 86 = 8 + 6 = 14 (two seven), 9 + 8 = 17

M = 11:11 or 4 lines, 4 = A /@/apple or the WIZARD OF AHHHHHS.

THATS A TYPO, YEAH RIGHT MAN! Your name goes through like 17 computers a day.

"orwell" = 77 (Reverse)

T = UR = KEY

The "T" can be read as a 7 or an L or a T.

Getting confused yet? Like I keep saying it works on FEEL and to FEEL the FORCE takes practice.

You can't level up your skills or find GOD without LOCKing/LUCKing onto GODS signal and that signal = 17.

"frequency" = 37 (Septenary)or 777

You gotta find that LUCK/7UCK/TUCK to escape the MATrix to break your NPC/A.I programming.

There are a couple KEYS you must learn to use to escape the door TT 17 (77) that's the doorway and the door = mat and the way is (mat).

A double sided tuning fork is exactly what we humans are. There are 7 chakras in the human body.

"tuning" = 77 (Reverse) "tuning" = 27 (Septenary) "tune" = 21 (Reverse Reduction) "chakras" = 17 (Chaldean) "chakras" = 128 (Reverse) half of which is 64. "chakra" = 14 (Chaldean)

Gematria can help with your belief, but you shouldn't rely on it for your all answers. Gematria can be pretty spammy and not that helpful, so I try to keep it to a minimal.

"answers" = 27 (Reduction) "answer" = 37 (Reverse Reduction) "answer" = 34 (Keypad)

Leonardo Da Vincis Vitruvian Man displays 4 arms and 4 legs or 8 (1+7).

An interesting aspect of the human body is when you raise your arms above your head it creates a U and your legs create an N (n) shape like the tuning fork.

Now I repeat the question r U n or are you out of tune?

A you (U) can be an UP or a C (see) or UNDER like a DUD.

Just like an N can mean in, or n (no), or a Z/N (snooze alert zzzz), the N can be many things some good, some bad and some in-between.

The answer = ans (a = 1, n = 5, s = 1) Whats that spell? 7 ANS = NAS N = nothing, A = anything, S = something

Good people get something, shitty people get nothing and ANGELS get anything. A = 4 N = 77 S = 6

7 x 11 = 77 or 49

ELEVEN <> ELVEN <> EVE

11 = 77

The N is another key you must learn to use to escape the black cube of Saturn's HEX/agon (6).

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[john-macnamara]

It's very cute that Mr. Mega thinks his refusal to read our leaks means anything. We'll continue sharing them, and people will continue reading them. But here, for you, Mr. Curt Mega, we have provided the medical report from John's time in the hospital after the ten days of sleeplessness he spoke of. Thank us later!

Mount Sinai Hospital Treatment Report: Johnathan S. MacNamara

Date of Admission: September 9, 2012

Date of Discharge: November 17, 2012

The patient was admitted to the Emergency Room at 6:24 AM, 09/05/12 and evaluated to be in critical condition almost immediately. He exhibited signs of septic shock, including: lung failure, kidney failure, liver failure, a blood pressure of 68/43 mm Hg, and a heart rate of 134 BPM. In addition, he showed signs of infection stemming from an abdominal laceration approximately 30 inches in length and on average approximately 2 inches deep. The exhibited signs included: seizures, a consistent 105° F fever, swelling around the wound, pus in and around the wound, and human fecal matter smeared across the abdominal region. The lattermost sign was not so much a symptom as an obvious cause.

The patient's wounds were immediately cleaned with heavy disinfectants and a tracheostomy was preformed. He was attached to a mechanical ventilator and the blood-oxygen levels slowly stabilized. Patient was admitted to the ICU for further treatment at 7:36 PM, 09/05/12. Injuries upon admission were mapped as follows:

1. Bullet entry and exit through right deltoid. 2. Large laceration across midsection. Shows signs of heavy bacterial and viral infection. 3. Second-degree burn in the shape of greek letter omega. 4. Electric burns on lower right back. Presumably from high-voltage taser or cattle prod. 5. Intense electric burns in genital and inner-thigh areas. 6. Hamstrings lacerated. Presumably to constrict movement of legs.

Upon admission to the ICU, the patient was administered a standard dose of penicillin. There had been no signs of consciousness since arrival to the hospital, however the patient did appear to be in a survivable state. Within the unit, he was attached to a dialysis machine and given a steady IV of saline solution and another one that contained water-soluble vitamins and nutrients. Once the infection showed no further sign of spreading, the patient was given an emergency liver transplant. This occurred on 09/06/12.

The transplant succeeded, and the liver immediately began to filter blood and further cleared the infection. The decision was made to keep the patient on the dialysis machine until the infection and subsequent sepsis was cleared, and after a partial recovery from the first transplant occurred.

After 57 hours of total unconsciousness and unresponsiveness, the patient was declared to be in a coma caused by toxic-metabolic encephalopathy. He was assumed to wake up within the month.

The tracheostomy ventilator was removed on 09/23/12 and replaced with a laryngoscopic ventilator. This was changed once more on 10/03/12 when it was replaced with a mask ventilator.

The genital burns required a skin graft, but otherwise healed normally without infection or complications.

At 1:58 PM on 10/09/12, the patient began to react to outside stimuli. He moved when touched and made audible responses to pain. Over the next few days, he began to react to auditory and olfactory stimuli in addition to touch-based reactions increasing in consistency. By 10/12/12, the patient could follow simple commands and had managed to open his eyes a few times.

On 10/15/12 at approximately 12:30 AM, the patient awoke in a frenzied state. He attempted to rip out IVs and pulled off the ventilation mask and appeared to be unaware of where he was. It took excessive physical force, but he was eventually restrained and slowly calmed. He fell back asleep soon after, but showed greater signs of healing by that point. The next afternoon, he gave an official record of what happened to him, which provided a more accurate method of how to treat him. He consented to a kidney transplant and went into surgery on 10/18/12.

There were no complications during the surgery, and the donor was the wife of the patient, Rosalind M. Schaffer. She didn't suffer any complications from the donation either.

After the surgery, he was moved from the ICU and into the recovery wing with a private room.

The patient was dosed on standard pain medication over recovery, and showed no infectious flare-ups over recovery. He was monitored for lasting impacts of his wounds or disease, and had gained a noticeable tremor in both his hands. He underwent physical therapy while in the hospital's care, allowing him to regain full motion in his legs and to lessen his hand tremors.

The patient was discharged at 8:14 PM on 11/17/12 with a clean bill of health and prescribed a pain medication for as long as needed. It was also recommended that the patient stop smoking, as his lungs had previously failed once and it could be a major risk factor. The patient obviously did not follow the advice, as he was seen smoking a cigarette the second he left hospital grounds.