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reasonsforhope · 7 months

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Self-Care in Times of Atrocities

This is something I've been struggling with myself, and it's also something I have a general chip on my shoulder about (in terms of the corporatization of self-care, ugh), so here have a post

It can feel impossible or even cruel, to "practice self-care" in the face of the world right now - and in particular, in the face of the ongoing genocide in Gaza.

So, I think it's really important to say that self-care does not mean that you are always emotionally balanced at all, that you are never overcome with rage and grief at the horror of ongoing atrocities.

To never be overcome by rage or horror or grief or any other negative emotions would be to shut ourselves off from a huge part of the human experience, in a situation where our connection to our common humanity is, I would argue, more important than ever.

Some days you will feel completely laid low by that rage and horror and grief. Sometimes for a few hours, sometimes for days or more.

That's not only normal, it is a completely rational response to what Israel is inflicting on Palestinians right now. I think it's a completely rational response to any genocide.

In some ways it's also a healthy response. Bottling up or choking off your emotions isn't good for you. Refusing to ever sit with pain isn't good for you. Refusing yourself grief and mourning and catharsis isn't good for you. We know all of this.

Self-care, in times of atrocity, doesn't mean always keeping yourself on some kind of even keel. In a lot of ways I think it means letting yourself cry, letting yourself channel all of your storming emotions into a force that can help, rather than just eat you up inside.

And self-care isn't the kind of corporate, hypercapitalist "buy yourself out of your feelings" bs that we're quite literally sold, either.

Self-care is, very often, not about indulging or pampering yourself (not that there's anything wrong with indulging or pampering yourself).

A lot of the time it just means...taking care of your physical form, as best you can, even when you least want to, so you don't pile more on top of everything else.

A lot of the times it means making yourself eat something, even just some crackers, even though you feel sick from horror.

Or groaning and forcing yourself to drink a glass of water, because you can, you have access to drinkable water, and you can honor that for the privilege it is by avoiding a terrible dehydration headache.

Or making yourself take a shower, even though it's the last thing you feel like doing, because you have an important meeting tomorrow.

Or locking your phone in a drawer for a while, because staying up all night doomscrolling won't do anything but drain you further.

And if you're ever feeling too guilty to do any of that, remember: you cannot pour from an empty vessel. Meeting your own basic needs as best you can is one really, really important way to make sure you have the energy to help.

#me #not news #self-care #free palestine #palestine #israel #genocide #cw genocide #cw war #now I need to take my own damn advice and eat something #bodies are so rude #we need to be ready to be in this for the long haul #I PRAY that we won't have to be #but this has been going on for months and it could keep going on months longer with horrifying ease #take care of your flesh vessel so you don't burn out before this is over #because there are a lot of things that can help people in Palestine #but doomscrolling and not eating and the like aren't among them #grief

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cambion-companion · 10 months

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Can’t stop thinking of a tav who just showers Raphael in attention and affection. It’s the little things like listening attentively to his plays and dramatizations whenever they ask anything, to looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars, cupping his face as if he’s some kind of precious lovely thing instead of you know, A DEVIL

Just tenderness because that’s not something common in the world of devil and demons (I think?)

Ps: love your writing!

Hi! Thank you! I took the opportunity to write more Patron!Raphael, with a little bardic twist!

Raphael x reader (gn)

You were Raphael’s favorite.

This knowledge you wore with great pride and much to the aggravation of his other servants.

You had never expected a patron Fiend to be so dynamic. His passion for the performing arts rivaling even your own. You’d struggled being a bard for so long, working your fingers raw upon the instruments that refused to sing for you. Your creative abilities severely stunted. Until Raphael entered your life.

The cambion had carefully watched your passion to act and dance, recognizing in you his own desire to draw down the magic of words upon parchment.

You had been so eager to sign his contract, agreeing to serve him and spread his own creations to the material plane in exchange for unhindered, undiluted talent.

Raphael was quite pleased with this arrangement. Under his mortal disguise he would often attend your little shows, his amber eyes glinting with self-satisfaction as he watched his little bird channel his creations. Through you, Raphael gained another taste of what being a god must feel like.

At the end of another long recitation of one of Raphael’s more laborious poems, you watched the guests file from the room and took a welcome drink of cool water for yourself.

Raphael leaned against the marble pillar, idly swirling a glass of red wine as he studied you.

“You’re not enunciating enough during the last stanza.” Raphael tutted lightly, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “The attention of your guests lapses accordingly.”

You grimaced and rubbed your sore throat. “Sure, it’s my enunciation. Not the fact you drone on about the tempestuous nature of pixies for five minutes.”

Raphael’s smile didn’t reach his dark eyes. “For a mortal so favored by Fate, you certainly enjoy tempting it.”

“I’m not favored by Fate, I’m favored by you.”

“Well said. Well spotted.” Raphael chuckled and drained his cup before placing it aside and moving close, the fragrance of his musk burning your nostrils. His hand cupped your jaw and tilted your face up. “Not appreciated nearly enough, however. I labor long so that you may be the conduit of my brilliance.”

You couldn’t help but roll your yes, a twinge of unwelcome fondness stirring yet again within you for this curious devil. “I adore everything you create, Raphael. Well…almost everything.”

“And what, pray tell, is the exception?”

You hesitated and pulled your head out of his grip, his long index finger trailing beneath your chin. “Well, that song about the hagspawn was pretty terrible.”

Raphael inclined his head. “Granted, it was not my best creation. Yet you did it justice, once you heeded my tender correction and stopped laughing.”

You rubbed your lower back at the unpleasant memory. “Yes…I remember your ‘correction’ quite well.”

“As always, it is my intent to make an impression.” Raphael extended a hand which you took, preparing to be whisked back to his House of Hope. “Even amongst the most stiff-necked of my servants.”

A blast of hot air met your face as Raphael pulled your body through the familiar hellfire portal. You didn’t mark the change, but Raphael had shed his human guise and now stood before you in full cambion form. He stretched his arms and wings wide, clearing his throat before launching into a dramatic recitation of his newest poetic piece.

You sat in an armchair as far away from the roaring fire as possible, listening to Raphael’s deep voice paint the images of an epic tale. It was clearly another of his self-insertion stories with a protagonist modeled after how Raphael perceived himself. Which was a sight different than the reality.

Despite the blatant conceit, you couldn’t help but be drawn into the world he had created. You clapped enthusiastically at the end of his impassioned oratory.

As always, you were his biggest fan. Aside from himself of course.

Haarlep passed through the large room on the way back to the Boudoir he was often confined to. The incubus wore a sleepy expression and the usual replication of Raphael’s image, carrying a mug of steaming liquid in hand.

“Raphael has just come up with the most exquisite tale, Haarlep!” You said with excitement, not noticing Raphael’s glare on you soften slightly at your words.

“Believe me, cherub. I’ve heard it all.” Haarlep waved a dismissive hand in your direction and continued on his way.

“He doesn’t like me much.” You said, a little put out as you always were at Haarlep’s disinterest.

“Pay him no mind.” Raphael handed you yet another long sheaf of parchment whereon he’d scrawled more lyrics for you to memorize. “There is only one whose attentions you should crave.”

You glanced over his work and smiled, trying in vain to hide your delight at the new project. “Of course, but it does get a little confusing since you insist on him wearing your form.”

Raphael’s tail smacked your backside causing you to hiss at the sting. “Careful, little nightingale. Even my fondness for you has its limits.”

#haarlep #raphael #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #raphael x reader #raphael x tav #drabble #raphael bg3

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miasmaghoul · 1 year

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There is so much talk of creaming jorts on my blog right now and you know, it gave me a devious idea:

Mountain (or another ghoul of your choosing ofc, but it is still march haha) is getting close to the start of a rut, which has them feeling a little posessive a packmate pre-ritual. Like he needs to claim them a little to scratch the itch under their skin. What if they were having a sneaky make out session before curtain call and he unbuckled the others belt, creamed into their jorts undies and buckled them back up, just in time for them to feel him all ritual?

Gross.

I love it.

Leaned more into the possessive side of things, hope you don't mind!

(This has been sitting in my drafts for months I'm SO SORRY pretend it's still March shhhh)

Mountain breathes deep through his nose, trying to focus on the book in his hand as the van trundles down the road toward tonight's venue. It's some pulpy crime novel he'd grabbed at the last airport they visited, something intended to distract more than entertain, but despite being more than halfway through it Mountain couldn't name a single character if he tried.

He can't help it. Can't think about anything but the way every inch of him has started to buzz, how the very air around him hums.

There's a specific sort of pressure in the back of his head. Rigidity in the muscles along his spine. A disquieting tingle that's come to settle into his gut. It all speaks to one thing, and it couldn't be coming at a worse time.

It had started last night, a sharp spike of nearly painful arousal that had hit him in the middle of the night. Had roused him from an otherwise very sound sleep and jolted him so badly that the oversized ghoul had hit his head on the ceiling of his bunk. It hardly registered, Mountain honed in exclusively on the sudden, urgent need for release.

Rock hard and leaking already, he'd wasted no time in shoving his hands into his sleep sweats, gripping himself and pumping his hips into the tight channel of both fists. Forced to bite his tongue to mute the harsh groan threatening to escape his throat when he blew in a matter of seconds, eyes shut so tight that colors bloomed behind his lids.

It happened again in the bus shower this morning, Mountain struck by a wave of need so intense that he'd doubled over and nearly slipped. He'd lasted a little longer that time, not that he'd needed to, and the wet sound of his soapy hand flying over his cock still echoed in his ears. That one had left him dizzy, left him panting against the shower wall while he watched his load swirl down the drain.

There really are few things worse than an unexpected rut.

He knows that the others know, but most of them don't acknowledge it. He'd caught them all staring at different points, nostrils flared, but they were quick to look away. Dew, Rain, Cirrus and Cumulus did their best to be sly about it, furtive glances cast during casual conversation. Aeon and Aurora weren't quite so subtle - he could smell the pair of them from down the length of the bus. Could see Aeon getting chubby in his too-tight jeans and Aurora squeezing her thighs together. Both tempting in their own ways, to be sure.

But then there was Swiss.

Swiss, who he'd heard noisily tugging at himself in the bunk below while he came down from his first orgasm.

Swiss, who had been standing bright-eyed and grinning just outside the bathroom after Mountain's shower.

Swiss, who had spent the entire morning tossing him hungry glances and touching him at every possible opportunity.

Swiss, who now sits pressed tightly to his side in the cramped van while Mountain does his damnedest to ignore the heat of his body, the spice of his cologne and the weight of the hand on his knee.

Mountain can hardly think for how badly he wants. Wants to wrench Swiss's arm behind his back, get a hand in his hair and shove his tongue down his throat. Wants to tug Swiss into his lap in front of everyone and feel him up, wants to suck deep, dark marks into his neck while he grinds against his ass. Wants to get Swiss's strong legs over his shoulders, wants to get so deep inside that Swiss can't do anything but writhe and beg for his -

"You're growling, big guy," Swiss informs him, voice silken gravel, and Mountain nearly tears his book in half. He gives the other ghoul a sidelong glance, and Mountain knows that if they weren't glamoured Swiss would be smiling with every fang in his mouth. "Somethin' on your mind?"

Mountain doesn't deign to answer him, instead choosing to stare at the page he hasn't turned in the last ten minutes. To pretend his dick isn't hard as granite and leaking into the two pairs of too-tight underwear he'd shoved himself into.

He's first out of the van when they finally pull up to the amphitheater, sucking down heavy lungfuls of fresh, summertime air in an effort to clear his head. To wash away the heady scent of smoky whiskey, black pepper and bitter herbs stuck in his nose. To allow himself to think about anything but the familiar warmth of Swiss's body.

About the way he always holds himself open when Mountain bends him over. The way he moans in that deliciously whorish way when Mountain pushes in. The way Swiss's voice drops to a rasp and his breathing goes shallow when Mountain grips those narrow hips with bruising force. The way he grabs at his own hair when Mountain fucks him just right. The way Swiss's pretty little hole stretches around his -

"Mount!"

Rain's voice shakes him from his stupor, and as his cock pulses and leaks to memories of Swiss, Mountain hurries over to join his packmates. Rain gives him a worried look.

"Hey, you alright?" He reaches out to touch Mountain's arm, but seems to think better of it. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest. "I know you're, uh..." he makes a vague southward gesture, "...struggling."

"I'm fine," Mountain grumbles, not so subtly adjusting himself and hoping he hasn't soaked a wet spot into his jeans. He catches a whiff of warm spice and old weed, and as Swiss breezes past them Mountain can practically feel his pupils narrow.

Rain seems less than convinced when Mountain proceeds to crack his knuckles, but he drops the subject nonetheless. They head inside together, and Mountain does his best to put on his game face.

He still stops in a bathroom along the way, unable to erase the image of Swiss stretched and keening from his mind. He spills into the toilet with the other ghoul's name on his tongue, and huffs out an irritated sigh when no relief follows.

This is going to be a very long show.

Still though, the hours between arrival and showtime pass in a blur. Soundcheck comes and goes, as do their myriad meetings with venue staff and conversations with their techs.

Through it all, Mountain can feel golden eyes boring into him. In the halls, on stage, in the dressing room. Mountain does his best to ignore the weight of Swiss's gaze as he applies his face paint, but the only other thing he can think of is the red-hot tangle of urgency between his legs. He meets Swiss's eyes in the vanity mirror as he slips on his helmet, the other ghoul peering at him over Rain's shoulder while they chat across the room.

He offers a wink through his lenses, and Mountain's balls ache.

The call comes for ten minutes til showtime, and the others make their way from the dressing one by one. Swiss doesn't so much as move from his position against the wall. Mountain can feel his breaths coming quicker as Aurora and Cumulus share a sideways hug, the door clicking shut behind them, and then they're alone.

They're alone, and Swiss grins.

Mountain's across the room in two stride, and before Swiss can so much as breathe he's pinned to the wall by his throat. Mountain snarls in his face, leaning in until he can feel Swiss' breath on his lips, hot and tobacco tinged.

"Why must you always insist on being such a fucking tease?"

Swiss' lips curl up at the corners despite the pressure on his neck, and something predatory prickles at the back of Mountain's mind.

"Not my fault you're thrown' off pheromones like crazy," he said, just a little strained. Swiss rolls his hips towards his pelvis and Mountain's stomach gives a mighty swoop. "Can't blame me for wanting a taste."

Swiss licks at the air, breathes deep, and Mountain squeezes his throat so tight his eyes roll back.

"Can't even ask for what you want, can you?" The taller ghoul's other hand finds Swiss' belt and Mountain unbuckles it with aggresive fingers. He knows he's growling as best he can through his glamour, and the way Swiss shivers says he gets the message. "Too stupid to use your words? Just have to be a fucking tease about it?"

Swiss gives him a hurried nod as he swallows against the pressure of Mountain's palm, and he grunts when Mountain yanks his pants and briefs down in one go. A rough hand gropes his rapidly thickening cock, and Swiss visibly winces, eyes bright.

"Don't make that face." Mountain pulls his hand from Swiss' growing chubby to unzip his own pants, to fish himself out through his already stained briefs. "You asked for this." He groans at his own touch, cock hot and heavy in his hand. He smears the wet tip of it over Swiss' shaft and the sensation wrenches a moan from him.

Swiss licks his lips, nods again as his eyes drift south, and as Mountain starts to stroke himself he chokes out a pained huff. Mountain's hold on the other ghoul's throat never slackens, not even as his chest starts to heave while his cock jumps. He pulls at himself with firm tugs, each one sounding slicker than the last. Swiss lets his helmet thud back against the wall, hands coming up to rest on Mountain's forearm. He rocks forward and Mountain growls, can't keep himself from pressing closer. From crowding Swiss to the wall and bumping his fat cock with every pass of his fist.

"I'm going to give you something special." They're close enough that Swiss's breath clouds his lenses. Mountain's balls are starting to go tight already, the tension settled into every part of his body melting into tingly heat that has his shoulders sagging. "Something to think about while you're dancing like a whore for all those people."

He works himself hard and fast, the urgent heat in his veins threatening to set his skin alight. Swiss's ignored cock bobs and bounces, the other ghoul gripping his choking arm tight and spitting tight curses through clenched fangs every time Mountain nudges it.

"Touch me," Swiss manages to spit, blunt nails digging through his shirt. He bucks as best he can, but all that accomplishes is a brief bump against Mountain's fist. "Mount - Mount you gotta -"

He gurgles when Mountain squeezes him into silence, huffing while he polishes his leaking tip.

"Shut up," he bites out, teeth clenched chest heaving. "Sluts don't get to make demands."

For once in his life, Swiss keep his mouth shut.

It's no time at all before Mountain's balls draw up, his hips twitching in animalistic jerks. He grunts with every stroke, brow knit behind his mask, and the closer he gets the better Swiss's strained gurgling sounds.

"Gonna make sure they all know you're mine."

Swiss's cock spits a blurt of pre that hits his stroking hand, and with an impossibly deep moan Mountain shoots in thick ropes that splatter against his cock, balls and muscular thighs. Heavy streaks that cling to heated skin and coarse hair. That leave him filthy and marked in a way that has Swiss's knees wobbling. Mountain doesn't release his throat until his cock dribbles its last, and the deep, starved breath Swiss sucks in is musc to Mountain's ears.

He steps away while Swiss catches his breath and struggles to keep his legs under him, heads back to vanity to clean himself up. He hisses as the hand towel he finds scratches at his sensitive flesh, and in the mirror Swiss catches his eyes once more.

"Just gonna leave me like this?" Swiss pants, gesturing at his flushed, messy cock. He sounds surprised, and Mountain really can't imagine why. A pearly stripe drips, beads up to leave a stain in his undies that has Mountain drooling.

"Deal with it," he rumbles in response, tucking himself away and fastening his belt. "I want to smell it on you tonight."

He has the pleasure of watching Swiss' eyelids droop behind his lenses at the timbre of his voice, rich with intent. Mountain grabs his sticks and heads to join the others, and the sound of Swiss's zipper makes him smirk. There's something deeply satisfying about leaving him sticky and wanting, and even though he's hard again halfway through Kaisarion Mountain finds it easy to lose himself in his musicmaking.

Until Watcher in the Sky comes up and he makes the mistake of peeking over at Swiss's platform while Dew's guitar wails. Finds him on his knees and elbows with his ass in the air.

As both of his sticks splinter in half, Mountain swears he's going to make Swiss cry tonight.

It's what the slut deserves.

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #mountain ghoul #swiss ghoul #rain ghoul (in the distance)#mountain/swiss #mountain x swiss #swissalps #im not rereading this before i post so if you see mistakes #no you dont #moony this is YOUR FAULT

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pedropascallme · 8 months

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I love your professor damien fics so so so much!!!!!! you are feeding the damien girlies and it is MUCH appreciated

a damien x reader shower fic (😏) would be amazing if you were interested? 🙏🙏🙏 but no rush or pressure to actually do it unless you want to lol 💜

The Shower Scene

Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader

Summary: "Some hours later, after flicking through channels of near-unwatchable cable TV and spending more time than you probably ever had with the cats, you figured you had the time to take a shower—a nice one, long and steamy and relaxing. Maybe you’d even light a candle."

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) p in v sex, very mild dom/sub dynamics, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), praise, dirty talk, cum play kinda, if I missed anything please let me know!

AN: First time writing for Damien himself and honestly this was somehow more difficult to write than prof!Damien?? I kept writing dialogue and then being like he would NOT fucking say that. Anyway I hope this is to your liking!!

“Stay.” You wrapped your arms around Damien, words coated in sleep as you tried to trap him under the blanket you had cloaked over yourself.

“I want to.” He didn’t brush you off, letting you linger next to him, arms around his waist while he sat on the foot of the bed tying his shoes.

“Then you should.” You didn’t whine, didn’t even really put much thought into the tired pleads you emitted; this is just what you always did when he went to work in the morning. You knew he couldn’t stay, you understood that he had a job to do and that he would be back later—you weren’t stupid, you just wanted to keep him in bed with you, selfishly tuck him away and keep him all to yourself.

He stood up, leaning over you and offering you a kiss on the cheek, and you hummed, turning your face quickly to capture his lips in yours.

“Stay.” Now you were whining.

“I’ll be back so soon,” he cupped your cheek in his hand before giving you one more kiss, “Won’t even know I’m gone.”

“Liar,” you quipped, and he shot you a playful scowl. You smiled back at him. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he made a show of fixing the blanket that had exposed your feet while you were trying to coax him back into bed, “Go back to sleep.”

~~~

You woke up a few hours later, puttering around and trying to keep yourself busy; it was always the worst when he had work and you yourself had nothing to see to—no work to do, no plans to attend, just a day completely to yourself.

In theory, it sounded nice, but there were only so many ways to keep yourself occupied in a way that didn’t make you feel semi-useless. You couldn’t just resort to doom-scrolling or napping, it just made you feel guilty for doing nothing of substance.

Some hours later, after flicking through channels of near-unwatchable cable TV and spending more time than you probably ever had with the cats, you figured you had the time to take a shower—a nice one, long and steamy and relaxing. Maybe you’d even light a candle.

You gently coaxed Zelda off your lap, getting up to walk down the hall and to the bathroom, turning the water on. You stripped yourself of the pajamas you still wore from the previous night.

With the water now running at the right temperature, you let yourself acclimate to the feeling of it hitting your skin, letting the warmth soak your hair and trail down your spine until the droplets circled the drain.

When you heard Damien call your name, you jumped a little. You hadn’t heard him open the front door, too caught up in the heavy feeling of the steam that had begun to surround you and the ricocheting echo of the water hitting the bottom of the tub.

“Showering!” You called out, and you heard him shuffle down the hall to find you. He peeked behind the shower curtain.

“Oh my God, you’re naked!” He feigned shock at the sight, and you flicked at him, letting the water on your fingertips fly towards his face.

“You look like you’re about to murder me, Psycho-style.” You wrung water from your hair, watching him blink off the water drops that had landed on him.

“Baby, don’t say that —you’re a final girl if there ever was one.” He backed away from the shower curtain, leaving you to your own devices.

“You’re not coming in?” You called after him, and you heard the sound of his footsteps come to an abrupt halt.

“I’m invited?” He called back to you from down the hall.

“Come.” You confirmed, moving the shower curtain out of your way to watch him come rushing back into the bathroom. You’ve never seen anybody undress so quickly, and you made a mental note to remind him to pick up his socks from the hallway when you were both less distracted.

Not even the silken water from the shower could compete with the feeling of Damien’s skin on yours; the heat that radiated off of him got under your skin and engulfed you with comfort as he pulled you close the moment he stepped into the shower with you.

“I hate leaving you in the morning,” he ran a hand down your side, watching how the water beaded and dripped down your skin, “but I do love getting to come home to you.” You anchored yourself to him when he kissed you, hands gripping his arms as they wrapped around your body. It was almost embarrassing how needy you were for him after only a few hours apart, but you couldn’t think of anything but him now that he was back in front of you.

His tongue licked into your mouth, occasionally catching drops of water that fell over your faces when you broke away just long enough. You placed a hand gingerly on his chest, putting no pressure on it so he wouldn’t part from you, and trailing it down his body until you could wrap your fingers around the base of his cock. He groaned quietly into your mouth, and you felt yourself break out in small goosebumps, the warmth of the water combating your building excitement and pride.

Your strokes were slow; you felt him stiffen in your hand, paying attention to the tip of his cock, jerking your wrist in a circular motion. His hands found purchase on your ass, squeezing and kneading the plush skin and earning a moan from you—something about letting him touch you like this, the water bouncing off your back, steam circling your feet while you leisurely jerked him off made you feel so eager for him.

“Missed you so much today,” you breathed out, and he dipped his head down to suck marks onto your chest. His hands guided you against the wall, and the cold tiles sent a shiver down your spine, arching your back. You removed your hand from his length, placing your arms on his shoulders and weaving your fingers behind his neck.

“Mm,” he released you from his mouth momentarily, licking the deep purple spot he had made on your skin, “I missed you, too.”

“I couldn’t tell.” You goaded him, earning a quick smack to the side of your thigh as he took one of your nipples in his mouth.

“No?” He straightened himself back up, looming over you now, and you felt completely at a loss for words, too enamored of him to think of a reply. His hand came up to your mouth, and you opened, letting him dip in two of his fingers to the knuckle. He removed them slowly, letting you coat them with your spit, before he dropped his hand to your cunt and rubbed gently over your clit. You inhaled sharply, trying to keep your composure when he pushed both fingers inside of you. Damien breathed deeply, fingers rhythmically pushing in and out of you, and he savored the way you pulsed around him.

“Can you tell now?” He smiled with his top teeth, and you felt your pulse pick up when he pushed against the spongy spot inside of you with precision. You managed a quiet moan, and he continued to curl his fingers gently. “I figured.”

You gripped one of his shoulders, your other hand limply grasping his wrist. “Damien,” you whined when his thumb ghosted over your clit, “fuck me.”

“Is that what you want?” He was having entirely too much fun playing with you like this, your wet hair sticking to your skin, bottom lip trembling—you looked so beautiful, he couldn’t help the urge he felt to watch your face contort with pleasure from just the short thrusts of his fingers.

You nodded, and he stalled for a moment, scissoring his fingers inside of you just to watch you squirm, before pulling them out and licking them off. When his hand fell back at his side, he leaned forward. He had you crowded against the wall, and you kissed him fervently.

“You taste so fucking good,” he groaned, reaching to get hold of your leg and pull it over his waist. “Jump.” He grabbed your hips, letting you hook both legs around him. He nipped at your collar bone while you both adjusted to the position.

“Comfortable?” He touched his forehead to yours, breath fanning your face.

“Yeah,” you mewled, “please.”

“Please?”

“Please, fuck me,” you squeezed your thighs around him, “need you. Don’t tease.”

“Wasn’t teasing,” he played innocent, shifting his weight to fist his cock, smacking it against your clit, “Just wanted to clarify.” He pulled his hips back, lining himself up with you before slowly pushing into your waiting cunt. You whined at the familiar pressure you felt in your stomach and tried desperately to push your own hips forward onto him, to feel him in his entirety. Fully sheathed inside of you, his head tilted back, relishing in the feeling of how tightly you squeezed his cock. His hair was soaked, and you watched water fall over his face and chest as he pulled back and began driving into you.

“Oh my God, you feel so good,” he groaned after a long stroke, pushing you further against the wall.

“There—so good, Damien, fuck, you feel so good,” you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, planting lazy kisses against his lips, unable to pay close attention to anything other than the stretch of your pussy around him and the way the hair of his happy trail brushed against your clit with each roll of his hips. “Deeper,” you begged, needy for more, “Harder.”

“Fuck,” he maneuvered one hand under your ass, allowing the other hand the freedom to roam down your body to your clit. He ground his hips against yours. “Deep like this, baby?”

You whimpered, pulling at his wet hair, your other hand scratching sluggishly at his back. He could take a hint; pulling out until just the tip of his cock was nestled inside of you, he gave your clit a bit more attention, rubbing tight circles, before ramming himself back into you repeatedly, never breaking the synchronous tempo of his thrusts with the patterns he drew on your clit.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good—is this what you wanted? Needed it rough?” He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing hard against your skin while he satisfied the both of you.

You were certain you were screaming, but nothing more than raspy moans could find their way out of your mouth. Your head leaning against the wall, you arched your back into Damien’s thrusts.

“Please, please, please,” you couldn’t form any more words, trying to catch your breath to think of what exactly it was you were pleading for; “Wanna cum for you.”

“You wanna cum for me, baby?” He growled, voice low and clearly feeling the same buzz of adrenaline you were, “Gonna be a good girl and cum for me?”

You nodded frantically, mouth agape and eyes closed when you finally teetered and fell over the edge; you felt Damien twitch inside you, paired with a loud moan and harsh shove of his hips as he spilled into you. He gave a final few thrusts, watching the way you convulsed around him, both of you sighing in satisfaction when he pulled out. He helped you find your footing, hand falling over your lower back and letting you cling to him as your legs trembled. He turned off the water and, pulling back the shower curtain, removed a towel off its hanger, draping it over you.

“Did so good,” he kissed the top of your head while he patted you down with the soft fabric.

You looked up at him, eyes heavily lidded, the crown of your head fitting perfectly under his chin. “Felt so good.”

He tilted your chin up, giving you a soft kiss before he picked you up and carried you bridal style to your room.

“I’m all sticky…and drippy,” you muttered.

“Oh, have you not had the talk?” He laughed at his own joke, and you rolled your eyes, letting your head loll back against his arm where it was tucked under your neck. He dipped you down onto the mattress, and you were about to get back up, wipe the excess from between your legs and grab something to sleep in, when Damien’s hands wrapped around your ankles, pulling you down the bed towards him.

You giggled, playfully kicking your legs at him, careful to not actually let any of the movements connect to his body. He kneeled down, putting your legs over his shoulders.

“Damien…”

“What? You said you were sticky. I’m helping,” he licked a stripe over your core, not wanting to waste any time. “You taste so good; can you blame me?”

You didn’t bother giving him a verbal response, opting to bury your fist in his hair and bring him back towards your cunt. Even as spent and tired as you were, you would never deny the opportunity to see him between your legs, cleaning up the mess you’d made together.

“So impatient,” he chided, before giving in to your physical persuasion and burying his face against you; you jumped at the friction of his stubble on your inner thighs, but the drag of it against you only added to the bliss.

He worked his tongue into your hole, licking into you as best he could and delighting in the taste of you. He kissed over your clit before taking it between his lips, keeping it sealed in his mouth while his tongue drew shapes over it. You moaned, hips rising from the bed, and he wrapped his hands around your thighs to hold you still, closer to his face, pushing himself in further to savor the pleasure that was the taste of your cunt. His own cum leaked out of you and onto his tongue, and he licked the remnants off of your thighs, thorough in his bid to clean you off.

You looked down, making eye contact with him between your legs, and you saw him smile with his eyes. His tongue darted over your clit, mercilessly overstimulating you, not letting up for even a moment to catch his breath, and he knew you were cumming when he felt your legs tremble around his head, your fist yanking on his hair, chanting his name softly while you shivered. He moaned against your sensitive cunt, obsessed with the sounds you made for him and the tangy flavor of your wet on his tongue. He licked down your entrance, letting your slick collect on his tongue, drawing out your high for as long as he could. Selfish as it may be, he loved watching you unravel for him, and he continued to tease your entrance, letting your cum paint his lips.

He crawled up the bed, perching himself above you, and his hand rested against your lower jaw, prompting you to open your mouth. You obliged, and he spit, letting it fall to the back of your throat. You swallowed, humming at the taste—your own and his, something so perfectly curated. He kissed you, slow and gentle, and just as passionate as always.

“I must taste so fucking good,” you joked, hand draped over his neck.

He smiled down at you. “Oh, you have no idea.” He kissed you again, before rolling over on his side to sweep you into him. “I wish I could’ve just stayed home with you all day.”

“Me too,” you mumbled against his chest, feeling tired and perfectly sated.

He kissed your forehead, “I don’t have to go into work at all next week.”

“Does that mean you’ll stay in bed with me all morning?”

“I plan on it.”

You closed your eyes, letting the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed next to you act as a sort of lullaby. You think you whispered something about how he needed to pick his socks up from the floor of the hallway, but you weren’t sure, and you didn't really care; you were just happy to be home with him.

#damien haas #damien haas fanfiction #damien haas smut #damien haas x reader #damien haas x you #smosh #smosh fanfiction #smosh fic #smosh smut #smosh pit #smosh games #smoshblr

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copperbadge · 4 months

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Well it is definitely being a real fifth of Wednesday.

The HVAC started leaking again and as I told the company when I called, "The trickle has become a flood" -- my bathroom rug and the pad underneath it were soaked by the time I found out, and essentially I can't run the A/C for more than about half an hour without the leak starting up again (it's condensate that's somehow not draining properly).

There are actually three leaks -- two of which are physical faults. The drainage pipe is cracked where it connects to the unit, so it's dripping, which is not actually a huge issue because I can just put a pan under it, but it will need to have the part changed out.

The real problem is the other two leaks -- one from just above the filter rack, one from a gap in the weld below the filter rack. Those are an issue because you can't "catch" the water, it's running down the housing and onto the floor.

I did manage to rig up a solution until the tech can come out -- it turns out using packing tape to secure a sheet of plastic (cut up trash bag) to the housing actually works really well to channel the water off the housing and into the pan. (See the vertical seam in the metal next to the "HOT" label? Water's coming out the bottom of that, as well as out of the interior of the unit into the gap just above the HOT label.)

So at least the water's now going mostly into a pan and not onto the floor, and I don't have to change out towels every few hours, since I only have three towels to start with and no in-unit dryer.

The bathroom reeks right now, which I think is mainly down to the bathroom rug being draped over a chair in the shower with a fan going on it to dry it out. But at least most of the condo doesn't smell, and I can run the A/C without flooding the bathroom, so, small victories.

Dearborn has been watching from her favorite perch, on a sweater storage bag in the hall closet, and is Very Unimpressed.

#a real fifth of wednesday situation we got here #sam owns a home

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lipkahome · 2 years

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Different Types of Shower Drain Covers

https://www.worldpresslive.com/what-are-different-types-of-shower-drain-covers/

#shower drain channel #linear shower drain #vertical drain #tile insert #marble insert #lipka #floordrain #floordraincover #bathroom drain

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brideofmbappe · 1 year

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Missing My Baby || Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x reader

Raindrops pelted the windows as Kylian stared out, the pitter-patter echoing the rhythm of his racing heart. He had been restless, consumed by thoughts of you. The heated argument still played in his mind, the words exchanged and the raw emotions that had torn you both apart. He missed you terribly; the laughter, the shared moments, the love. Each day without you felt like an eternity, and his regret weighed heavily on him.

He poured himself into football, channeling his emotions onto the field.

The stadium lights illuminated the pitch, casting an intense glow that mirrored the fire within Kylian. As the opponents charged, he couldn't help but see them as an embodiment of his frustrations.

His movements were fueled by a mix of anger and determination. With each dribble, each pass, and each shot, he unleashed his inner turmoil upon the game. The ball seemed to be an extension of his emotions, driven with a ferocity that only he understood. Scoring felt like a release, a brief moment where the weight on his chest lifted.

But even as he dominated the match, a void remained. In between plays, his mind would drift to thoughts of you. He remembered the way your eyes lit up when you saw him, the soft touch of your hand in his, the countless memories that now seemed distant. The cheers of the crowd were a bittersweet symphony, a reminder of how much he had to prove – not just to them, but to himself as well.

Practice was both a sanctuary and a battleground.

Kylian pushed himself harder, the physical strain helping to momentarily overshadow the emotional pain. Yet, there were moments when he faltered, his concentration slipping as your name echoed in his thoughts. He would catch himself, frustration and sadness clashing within him.

The other players noticed the change, the usually happy Kylian appearing somewhat distant and preoccupied.

Nights were the hardest. Exhausted from training and the game, Kylian would return home, hoping to hear your voice, to share the events of the day as he had done countless times before. He would step into the shower, allowing the water to cascade over him, masking the tears that mingled with it. He would close his eyes and for a fleeting moment, imagine that you were there, that the distance between you had vanished. But reality always came crashing back, a cruel reminder that he was alone.

In those moments, the emptiness felt suffocating. The arguments, the regrets, the echoing silence – they all merged into an overwhelming ache that refused to subside. He would call your name softly, almost expecting you to respond from the next room.

The loneliness would settle in, a heavy weight that seemed impossible to escape. And as the water spiraled down the drain, so did his tears, carrying away some of the pain but never truly washing it all away.

But Kylian wasn't the only one struggling.

You had been grappling with the aftermath of the argument as well. The silence between you was deafening, and the emptiness in your heart was unbearable. Every corner of your life seemed to remind you of Kylian, the joy he had brought, and the love you had shared. Each night was filled with tossing and turning, your thoughts consumed by his absence. His words during the argument had cut deeper than you had ever anticipated. The pain was etched into your every thought, replaying his hurtful phrases over and over again.

You found solace in the little pieces of him that remained. Clinging to his pillow, you would bury your face in it, desperately inhaling the lingering scent that was uniquely his. It was a bittersweet comfort, a connection to a time when you were intertwined in each other's lives. But nothing couldn't fill the void he had left behind, and it certainly couldn't mend the shattered pieces of your heart.

Nights turned into days, and days turned into weeks, but the ache persisted. You moved through life like a ghost, a mere shadow of the vibrant person you once were. The laughter that used to flow so easily now felt like a distant memory. The world had lost its colors; everything seemed to be draped in shades of gray.

Sometimes, in the midst of your loneliness, you swore you could hear his voice. A whisper carried by the wind, a faint echo in an empty room. Your heart would skip a beat, hope sparking briefly before reality crashed down again.

You would find yourself turning around, half-expecting to see him standing there, that familiar grin on his face. But it was always a cruel trick of your imagination.

Part of you longed to reach out, to bridge the gap that had formed between you two. But another part of you held back, afraid of being hurt again, afraid that things might never be the same. The battle waged within you, tearing at your insides and leaving you feeling utterly lost.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. The pain had become a constant companion, an unwelcome guest in the house of your heart. You often wondered if life would ever regain its vibrancy, if you would ever find the strength to forgive or move on.

The uncertainty was suffocating, and you clung to the memories of what once was, hoping that someday, the wounds would heal and you would find a way to piece together the fragments of your shattered heart.

On a rainy night, the sky's tears seemed to mirror the emotions in both your hearts. The doorbell rang, interrupting your thoughts. With cautious hope, you opened the door to find Kylian standing there, soaked to the bone but with a determined look in his eyes. In his trembling hands, he held a bouquet of white roses.

His voice cracked as he began to speak, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I've missed you so much. I can't stand not talking to you. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry for what I said. It was all my fault, and I wish I could take it back. I regret it all, every word, every moment we've spent apart. I can't bear to be without you. I've been dying to see you, to hold you, to tell you how much you mean to me."

Tears mingled with raindrops on his cheeks as he poured out his heart, his emotions laid bare. The sight of Kylian, usually composed and strong, brought a pang of sympathy to your heart. You couldn't stand to see him like this, broken and vulnerable.

"Kylian," you whispered, your voice a mixture of forgiveness and understanding. "I've missed you too." And with those simple words, the dam holding back your emotions cracked, and tears streamed down your face as well.

Without another word, Kylian pulled you into his arms, his grip strong yet tender. The scent of rain and his cologne filled the air as his embrace melted away the days of distance. The world seemed to fade around you both as he lifted your chin, his eyes locking onto yours.

His lips met yours in a kiss that spoke volumes - a kiss filled with longing, regret, and a burning desire to make things right. It was a kiss that rekindled the fire that had been smoldering within you both. Slowly, he pulled away, his forehead resting against yours as his thumb wiped away the remnants of tears from your cheeks.

"I've been so deprived of your touch ma belle," he admitted, his voice a mixture of husky desire and vulnerability. Without breaking eye contact, he scooped you up in his arms, effortlessly lifting you off the ground. A surprised laugh escaped your lips as he carried you, your heart pounding with a mix of joy and relief.

As he ascended the stairs, each step brought you closer to a reunion you had both been craving. He set you down on the bed, his hands running over your body as if he were memorizing every inch. You could feel him trembling, his breathing coming out ragged as he looked at you, his eyes dark and intense.

You reached for his shirt, pulling it off his shoulders, eager to see him again. He leaned forward, pressing soft kisses along your collarbone, and you felt yourself melt under his touch. His lips brushed against yours, his tongue slipping between them.

You moaned softly, kissing him back, eager for more. His hands slid up your waist, his fingers brushing against your breasts, causing your nipples to harden. Your hands moved to his belt buckle, undoing it with ease, eager to get at his flesh. He stepped back, watching you intently, his eyes dark and hungry.

You could tell he wanted to rip your clothes off, but you weren't about to let that happen just yet. You smiled mischievously as you slowly undid his pants, pulling them down to reveal his boxers.

His cock strained against the fabric, and you couldn't wait to see it again. You ran your hand up the length of his shaft, feeling him throb in response. You gently tugged at his boxers, sliding them down his legs, exposing his cock, already glistening with precum. You looked in his eyes as you took it in your hand, stroking it gently.

He groaned, his eyes closing as he savored the sensation. You kissed his tip, swirling your tongue around the head, tasting him. He gasped, his hands tangling in your hair, pushing you harder against him. You moaned, loving the feel of his cock in your mouth.

You began to bob your head up and down, taking him deeper and deeper, sucking on him like crazy. His hips thrust forward, meeting your motions, urging you to take more. You looked up at him, a smile playing across your face. "Oh yes," you heard him whisper. "That feels so good." You smiled, moving faster, wanting to bring him to climax.

You felt him tense, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he held you close. You kept going, determined not to stop until he came. You felt him explode in your mouth, his cum filling your throat. You followed Kylian's lead as he guided you towards the bed, both of you eager to finish what he had started.

He lay you gently onto the soft sheets, and then knelt between your legs. He spread them wide, inviting him into you. He took you with one long stroke, burying himself deep inside you. You threw your head back, arching your body towards him, your muscles tightening around him. He groaned, his teeth nipping at your neck. Your nails dug into his back, marking him.

Kylian pounded into you hard, making you cry out again and again. He was close, and you knew it. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper into you. "Oh fuck, yes!" you cried, your body convulsing as you came. He groaned, slowing his pace, but never stopping. You clung to him, feeling every inch of him buried inside you.

You couldn't get enough of him. Finally, he gave one last thrust and collapsed on top of you, his body still shaking. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He kissed your shoulder, breathing deeply. You turned your head and kissed him softly. "I love you so much mon amour," he said breathless. You smiled, stroking his cheek.

"I love you too kyky."

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lilacstro · 26 days

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💌messages for collective

I have lately been very drawn to ocean and ocean sounds. So this felt nice. i was willing to make a pick-a-pile post, but I felt rather drawn to do a collective reading. I have made a new oracle deck by myself and am working on creating a studio ghibli tarot deck!! Decks used: biddy tarot, poesis oracle, vessel oracle, inquire within oracle, my personal oracle Let me know suggestions about the broadcast channel if any (:

☆how do I know if this reading is for me? if you find yourself relating to the energy check, you can know this reading has some messages for you!

Paid readings open

support me on ko-fi :)

Energy check:

I was hearing "true blue" by Billie Eillish just when I wrote the title of the reading which was supposed to be a pick a pile, but instead turned something else. Specifically the lines "I tried to live in black and white but I am so blue". Maybe someone here is not over a person or a situation, especially from past. Maybe you felt you are over it, but its resurfacing especially showing effects emotionally. I am seeing that someone here is actually is experiencing some kind of delays and setbacks in the sense that things are either literally delayed or maybe you are getting something completely different from what you've been wanting. I am hearing "going bananas". There is a lot of fear inside, a feeling or I may rather say, tricking yourself into thinking you're at rock bottom, when you probably are not. There is problems in seeing things clearly. I see many of you here are rejecting change, and its either out of fear or attachment or there is self doubt that you would not be able to change, not able to "hang up". Now this can actually mean being stubborn in doing something a certain way, not hanging up on toxic people in your life that you deep down feel are not for you. There is a tendency of liking predictability that needs to change, sometimes things do not go as planned and they are for the best. Someone here could have watched or probably needs to watch "spirited away" or studio ghibli films in general because I am seeing a lot of my oracle cards with studio ghibli imagery in them fall out. I feel many of you could have created spirals mentally, projecting your opinions and views rather than seeing things and people for they are. Fix your posture is one another thing. Some things I am seeing are meditation and yoga, either you are thinking about doing it, or you should do it. There is a lot of drained and stagnant energy, and there is a need to recharge, start fresh. If some of you use crystals, recharge them, especially by the ocean. I am specially hearing "I wonder where did they go, their energy was no nice", so if anyone of you is thinking of quitting something you feel you are good at, or because you aren't seeing results, please do not go away. It feels like last one year could have been very chaotic, extremely inconsistent in what showed up for you. Next one year things would change. If this sounds like you, this reading is for you. I am also hearing travel, change in location. Someone will call you, either your inner calling or maybe some person or situation, you would need to get up and leave, and this will start a change. The lesser you "try harder", the more you would be able to find things easily. Let things come to you, they are not as out of reach at all as you are feeling. I am hearing Mitski, and the lines "moon tell me if I could send up my heart to you" and "nothing in the world is mine for free, but my love is mine all mine". I am also hearing "mistakes are reversible". I would suggest doing mediations under shower, maybe waterfalls or putting ocean sounds on while doing meditations or even before falling asleep. You are likely to find peace, clarity and sharper intuition near water.

Tarot:

There are some recurring themes from the energy check, and this confirms to me that this in line with what we have talked about before. I feel many of you are wanting to travel or at least move past what you feel has trapped you. I am constantly seeing the "world card". Also, if its possible, please go on a field trip or some kind of drive. I do not feel you guys are in proper hermit mode, but there is lack of being able to socialize properly. Maybe you do not talk as much as you could or used to. I am hearing "practice", now practice for breaking repeating cycles, or a subject or something else, is upto you. There is some conflict on the inside, with the past. Maybe you are reminiscing about someone from the past though they were not good, or maybe you feel wronged and unjust about a past situation lately. Inner conflict. Someone here could feel "it would never get better", and "i would never be/have enough". Feeling something right on the chest. But here is the solution: The moment you start doing something small, starting slowly, things would shift for you. You do not have to take a leap, you have to start small, start slow and let life work itself out for you. There is a happy ending here, you would find a wonderful partner, someone would choose you as their happy ending and you would make the right choice too, but let it take some time, start small and slow, but show up consistently. You are always changing, shifting and change is the only constant, do not fear it. Do not fear the unknown. I am hearing "you can move mountains too". There is a need to return home, return back to the present and start with what you have, even if you do not feel satisfied. I am feeling called to take out to see timings, take it if it resonates: Things would change fast for you the moment you start changing is one thing, the moment you take charge. Apart from that, Libra season, and the next fortnight, 1year. Someone here is about to meet someone, probably a romantic partner soon.

take care xoxo~

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