#request for December

[the-old-witch-writes]

Day 7 🡆 Breeding Kink (dom!Zoro x afab!reader)

Summary: Zoro fucks a baby into you.

CW: public sex, sex in the forest, breeding kink, afab!reader, dom!Zoro, dirty talk, use of petnames like "baby", daddy kink, biting

Deep inside a forest, just outside of the bustling town the Thousand Sunny docked at hours before, the sweet serenity of nature is shattered by broken moans and the wet smack of two bodies meeting.

“Ah, oh fuck—Zoro!”

“Got you, baby,” he rumbles in your ear, somehow steady as he batters inside you mercilessly, groaning as the gummy walls of your sweet, greedy little pussy welcome him. “Fuck, you feel so good…!”

Again, your head is thrown back against his shoulder as you moan and moan, eyes clouded and glossy as your palms clench at the rock under you. Wherever your thoughts are, they’re definitely no longer in your head. No, no—he made sure to do away with those the minute he kissed you, the moment you pulled his pants down, when you nearly choked trying to swallow his cock, and then, the very second he bent you over this rock and was inside you.

Now, all you can think of is Zoro, Zoro, Zoro and how Big he is, arms wrapped around you, his hands squeezing at your curves, his muscles thighs slamming furiously against the back of yours—and then, of course, how his cock isn’t even kissing your cervix but outright ravaging it. Like he wants to drive you insane, like he wants to become part of you, maybe put a baby in you—

Zoro growls, sinks his teeth into your shoulder, causing you to whimper.

“Shit, love your pussy, Bunny,” he says, licking his lips and tasting a hint of copper. “Always takes me so well, like you were made for it. Made to take my cock, my seed—”

You cry out, eyes beginning to water. Fuck, no, no, no. He can’t say that, he’ll ruin you.

Zoro pauses, feels how you clench around him, the wetness that drips onto him—and he grins wide, like the devil he is.

“Oh? You like that, huh? Like the idea of me stuffing you nice and full, filling your body until my seed takes?”

Your teeth sink into your swollen lip, the gaze in your eyes taking on a new haze. One of his rough hands moves to stroke at your pulsing clit. 

“I think about it too, y’know. Maybe a little too much. You’d be such a good mommy—”

“Yes, please," you moan, feeling your eyes roll back, your mind going crazy. "Want it so bad, daddy. Wanna be filled to the fucking brim—ah!"

You barely have time to breathe before Zoro has you on your back, pinned to the rock under you. His rough hands move to throw your legs over his shoulders as he looms over you. His hands then go to your waist and lift your lower body up as he shoves back inside you, forcing your cunt along his cock as he slams inside you over and over. He’s so rough, going so deep to push you closer and closer to the edge, you end up letting out scream after scream—speech barely audible, your throat left raw, those sorts of screams. The tension inside of you starts to become difficult to hold back, your cunt fluttering wetly whenever he’s inside you, and your eyes start to roll back. 

“That’s it, baby, that’s my good girl,” he rasps, his harsh exhale coming out in near steams. “Let go for me. Let go so I can fuck a baby into you—”

And with that said, with a flutter of your cunt, your whole world explodes in color.

“Ah, fuck, fuck, mmmm,” you squeal while pressing your lips closed, face flooding with heat as your back arches, as your eyes go wide and unseeing, each wave of your orgasm taking bits of your mind with it as he keeps going, dear god. “Zoro, daddy, I want—”

“Yeah, yeah, here I come, baby,” he growls, leaning forward to press his mouth to yours, shuddering when he feels your hands scrabble along his back, raking your nails into his skin. He moves faster, almost there almost almost almost—“God.”

And with another arch into him, you moan at the electrifying feeling of being full—of him, of the love you and him made together—and as your cheek falls to his shoulder, a cock drunk smile spreads across your face.

[kirby-the-gorb]

[toxooz]

-draws human battering ram König like its my next hit of crack-

[dailylagomorphs]

01/12/2023

[daily-basil]

Perhaps a Basil holding hands with a snuuy

They're at a Christmas market

[mayskalih]

KaruTema (Karui x Temari)? I would love to see them in your style if you choose to do them. 🌈🌻

day 5: baking

feel free to colour it <3 and tag me if you decide to post so I can reblog!

[cypherdecypher]

Animal of the Day!

Vampire Squid (Vampyroteuthis infernalis)

(Photo from Monterey Bay Aquarium)

Conservation Status- Unlisted

Habitat- Oceanwide

Size (Weight/Length)- 30 cm

Diet- Detritus; Marine snow

Cool Facts- Despite being called a vampire squid and possibly looking a little scary, your chance of encountering one of these little fellas, let alone being hurt by one, is next to none. They feast exclusively on detritus and marine snow, organic matter that falls from areas closer to the surface. Vampire squids are covered fin to tentacle in photophores, helping for communication or startling predators. If the lights don’t work, the squid inverts its tentacles to wrap around its body in a cocoon and expose its spines called a pineapple posture. Worse comes to worse, they spit bioluminescent mucus onto the predator and make their escape. Due to their interesting diet, vampire squids are susceptible to micro plastics filling their digestive tracts.

Rating- 13/10 (Not related to Dracula, Alucard, or Dio.)

Requested by @keaneblr

[cheerioskid]

*does a dance* ive come to request double life pearl, if u want to and have the time 💌 :)

my favorite pathetic wet cat

[ritahayworrth]

LOIS SMITH and JAMES DEAN in a wardrobe test for East of Eden (1955) dir. Elia Kazan

[rubenesque-as-fuck]

Strange Things Are Atentacle

Acrylic on canvas, December 2023

[phenikas]

Spoilers for Deep Connections under cut!!!

"Rhys..." Jack stared into his eyes, afraid, still holding back. Because why shouldn't he? He has caused enough chaos in the younger man's life. He no longer felt deserving of being a part of it. "I'm-"

"Stop."

Jack silently watched as Rhys inched closer, slowly and carefully guiding his hand. God, how he wanted to wrap himself around Rhys, and yet even the slightest touch threatened his system to shut down. And when Rhys placed Jack's hand on his thigh, the fear of holding back a thousand moans and curses resurfaced.

He sucked in his breath, as if that would stop him from thinking about every possible way he wanted to touch Rhys. His other hand gripped the armrest, keeping it far enough with intention. Any and all contact was risky, especially when he did not know what was running through Rhys' head.

But then he felt it, at the back of his head. A ping.

He ignored it, still overwhelmed by Rhys' cybernetic hand laying on top of his.

Another ping. A request for... a wireless connection?

"I- Rhys, I can't let you do that," he tried, but Rhys ignored his fears, visibly moving even closer.

"I meant what I said that night," Rhys spoke in a hushed voice, his words meant for Jack and Jack only, "You thought I was out of it, and I guess it was kind of true. I was... angry. At you. At myself. And I know I should've handled that anger like an adult, but dammit, even I need to let loose sometimes. And I guess by getting shit faced, it did kind of open up a door of opportunity in my head. But what I'm trying to say is, I'm really tired of denying our feelings."

Jack gripped Rhys' thigh involuntarily, the man's words affecting him in ways he could not explain. He leaned back further into the chair, trying to gain control of the situation. He did not want to hurt Rhys more than he already has, "Don't say that. You can't say that! Didn't you see what I did?"

"Yeah. I saw everything," Rhys admitted, eyes locked with Jack's, "And it only confirmed what I was afraid of."

"That I shouldn't even be here in the first place?"

"That I keep bringing you back because I need you in my life. This was never a matter of you being useful for me or the company. I just... I hated how everything ended. Deep down, I kind of knew that there could've been something more between us, but I guess it was just a matter of-"

"Wrong place, wrong time."

"Yeah. Like it always seems to be."

"Is..." Jack began, still absolutely terrified that this could all go wrong any second now, "Is this the right time?"

"And the right place, if you let me in." Rhys leaned closer, his left hand gripping Jack's shoulder for support. "I want to feel what you feel, if that makes sense. I just... I want you, Jack."

Some out of context Deep Connections as I try to slowly get back into the groove of making renders. (I tried to be non-spoilery, even though this... might actually be a spoiler of its own? I mean, the real thing is gonna be in Rhys' POV so not really. There's like 2 chapters left between this and where the story currently is on ao3 - link here.)

[sprout-fics]

I have a soft Thursday thot to throw out of my brain:

I feel like Ghost would actually be the best at comforting someone if they had an anxiety/panic attack. Like, the lot of them are spending time together, and something happens— someone slams something, someone breaks something, whatever.

One of them (e.g. ME, it’s I, I’m the problem) stops dead in their tracks, blood drains from their face, tears almost come out, and he’s there to gently pull them outside, away from everyone. He just talks. Maybe wipes away any tears that come out. But just gently soothes them; you’re safe, breathe with me, everything’s alright.

He understands all too well the fear gripping tight at their throat, the dread that sinks into their bones, the sheer panic that threatens to make them collapse from within. He’s there to pull them back down to earth. No one fights alone.

Hi anon, I'm sorry this took me so long to answer but it really spoke to me. I agree that once Simon figures out what's going on he'll try his best to help, knowing he has gone through the same thing. He's maybe a little abrasive at first, but in the end he knows what it's like to be a victim of fear, so he'll do what he can to bring you down.

Tw: Panic attacks, mentions of captivity and torture, hyperventilation

It’s your first deployment since your rescue. It had taken time to build back up your strength and heal your injuries from the interrogation that occurred while you were in captivity. The weight of your plate and gear feels oddly foreign to you, removed from your memories. Even the weapon in your hands feels heavier than you remember, sluggish as you aim and fire at approaching enemies.

Ghost is at your side, a mammoth figure that keeps you in his shadow, takes point as you move through the abandoned village. The fabric of his scarf wafts softly in the sandy breeze, the town silent except for the suppressed gunfire that echoes out with every shot.

You’re trying to ignore the stammer of your heartbeat, trying to will your breath into steadiness despite the trembling grasp on your rifle. Ghost doesn’t seem to notice you behind him, doesn’t turn to see the wild, fearful look written across your gaze as you desperately try and swallow down panic.

This was a bad idea. You aren’t ready. You should have stayed behind. You can’t-

Something clatters at your feet.

Your eyes fall to it at the same time as Ghost, but unlike him you don’t move out of the way, staring at the grenade with a horrible, rotten dread that freezes you to the spot. 

There’s a hand that seizes you by the back of your vest, hauls you backwards so abruptly you nearly lose your weapon. Ghost’s voice is a roar in your ear, words you can’t hear, blood rising and panic overtaking you as you try again to swallow it down, down, down-

“DOWN!!” He bellows, and you’re pressed behind a wall, into the soft dusty earth with his form splayed heavy atop you. The grenade explodes a split second later, shaking the entire earth around you like it’s fit to crumble. You don’t even scream, eyes wide as dust floats over you both, entire body rigid and frozen. Even when Ghost rises off of you to fire at whoever threw the grenade you can’t move. You try, but your body stops responding, mind filling in the emptiness where movement should be, racing  and spreading sickly heat pulsing through your chest. 

You can’t breathe. Oh god, you can’t breathe.

“Alpha team, how copy?!” Ghost snaps into his comms, irritated. 

There’s a crackle of the radio as the other team answers.

“Alpha all clear. Bravo how copy?”

“Clear.” Ghost responds after a moment of scanning the surrounding buildings for any other hostiles. “Move down range, we’ll RV in five.”

“Copy that.”

You listen to the exchange as if you can’t inhabit your own body, and you try to imagine yourself sitting up, standing, following Ghost as he moves forward. Yet you can’t move, can barely breathe, hands trembling and eyes wide, unseeing. There’s a horrible nausea that rises in your stomach, makes you want to crumple over and retch into the sand, but you can’t even manage that much. 

“Sergeant, what the bloody hell was that?!” Ghost spins on your, hissing, only to find you face up in the sand, a white knuckle grip on your rifle as you try to remember the bodily command to breathe.

“Sergeant?”

It should be so simple. Inhale, exhale. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in-

Two large hands grab you by the straps of your vest, and the air comes rushing back all at once. You struggle, a desperate, cracked protest releasing in a whoosh of air as you try to scuffle backwards.

“Hey. Hey.” Ghost grunts, trying to keep a hold on you. “Kid, look at me. Look at me.”

You do, stare past the charcoal around his eyes and into his stare, trying to remember his name amidst the madness of your mind. 

“G-Ghost.”

He exhales through the mask, the hands on your shoulders relaxing at they pin you seated against the crumbling stone wall. 

“That’s right. Just me.” He tells you, gentler now that he’s realized what’s going on. “You’re having a panic attack. Try and breathe.”

You’re trying, you’re trying, but when your breathe still comes in uneven, gasping inhales Ghost draws you back to him, locks eyes with you as you shudder.

“On me.” He tells you, and you hear him take a deep breath. You follow as he holds, exhales, and then again when he counts. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. It’s hard, but you manage to follow along through some miracle, and eventually Ghost’s voice drops to silence as you continue to steady yourself. 

“That’s it.” He rumbles, voice softer, sympathetic. “You’re alrigh’. Keep breathing.”

There’s a copy of the radio as Alpha team checks in, and Ghost is quick to dismiss it. 

“Medical emergency, standby.” He tells them, and there’s a pause when they ask if they should send a medic or call of exfil. 

“No need.” Ghost responds. “I’ve got it handled.”

You let out the breath you had been holding when Alpha sends an affirmative response, feeling the tension unwind from your shoulders under Ghost’s palms. 

There’s a pause then, as you sink into yourself, feeling the pulsating fear begin to ebb bot not vanish completely. Your eyes fall to your lap, to your trembling hands and sand coated greaves. 

Ghost seems like he wants to say something, form tensing as he tries to find the word, at last providing: “You aren’t…there anymore.”

You look up at him then, blinking at his words. Ghost’s eyes are half-lidded as they look down at you, as if he himself is lost in his memories just like you. For a moment, it sounds almost as if he’s speaking to himself.

“They’re dead.” He tells you, voice a little distant, quiet. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”

They’re dead, you remind yourself. Your captors, the ones who kidnapped and tortured you, they’re dead. Ghost helped see to it himself, had been the one to carry your limp body to the medics, had held your hand for just a moment before you were pulled away. 

He’s right, and as you close your eyes, feel the weight of the memory and the fear fade, you remember not the feeling of fear, but of safety. 

With him. With Simon.

[whereismyhat5678]

OOOOHHHH PIZZAHEAD HAS A CRUSH ON PEPPINO- *get zap by his laser beam*

owie

Guys I think he likes Peppino- 👀

[isbergillustration]

Hey you can get this and many many other paintings as prints or stickers or whatever at like 60% off today on my red bubble

[dailylagomorphs]

16/12/2023

[historian-in-pearls]

Starting December 26th every day is going to be either a work day or a hospital day for me until at least February. I’m very overwhelmed, especially because I’m in a lot of pain after yesterday and can’t move easily or swallow solids. Please pray for me!