#trying something a little different

[delulukaisen]

Brat Taming

You push Nanami's buttons. His response isn't quite what you expected.

Kento Nanami x f!Reader

CW: brat taming, overstimulation, forced orgasms, oral (f! receiving), piv sex, unprotected sex, praise, dirty talk

---

It wasn’t that you didn't respect Nanami. You did! Only… being a brat just came so naturally. You couldn't resist the urge to wind him up, now that the two of you had been together for a while. Perhaps part of you needed to test his patience, find his limits early. See what would make him tired of you, or how far his annoyance would take him. The insecure part of you whispered that.

But if you were honest, it was mostly that it was such a thrill. Your dear Kento was so straight laced, so proper. He was honestly a dream, dedicated and patient. He was sweet and gentle with you, despite his rippling muscles and terse attitude with anyone but you. Of course you were driven with a need to break that stoic exterior. So you pushed and prodded. You questioned and demanded. And each time, he either ignored your bratty behavior, or if you really pushed, you might earn a weary sigh before he would kiss your forehead and redirect you.

Tonight was perhaps a step too far. You'd sent him a nude at work without any warning. He’d only said he would discuss your behavior when he got home. Dread filled your stomach at the short line of text. Was he going to break up with you over it? Was he truly that uptight, so much that your bratty behavior was more than he wanted to deal with? You'd certainly been interested in a more intense experience in the bedroom, but what if he went further than you wanted to punish you? 

Nanami walked in the door with a stiff back and unreadable eyes. You watched as he peeled off his jacket and hung it up, removed his cufflinks, and undid his tie, all without a word. He watched you back in consideration, and though it was difficult to tell what he was thinking, the intensity of his attention made you press your thighs together as heat warmed your core.

“Is there a particular reason you've been running wild lately?” He asked, voice quiet yet filling the room. You could feel yourself blush and looked down. His long fingers grabbed your chin and forced you to look back up at him.

“Answer my question, Y/n.” His words were a gentle command, but a command just the same. You shuddered at his tone, knowing he was serious business, but could not resist that mischievous urge that fluttered in your chest, making you give him a teasing smile.

“Maybe I just felt like it,” you told him, heart racing. Nanami stood to his full height over you with a sigh, your heart stopped and waiting on the precipice.

“What an attitude. I think there's only one way to fix this brattiness of yours,” Nanami said before scooping you off the couch while you squealed in surprise.

“W-wait, Kento, please I was only kidding, I'm not really good with pain--” 

You had never backtracked so hard in your life, your chest pounding as you pictured him spanking you, pulling your hair, saying mean and degrading things that would just make you cry--

“I know, darling. I'll just have to fix you a different way.”

Nanami set you on your feet just before the bed, placing his hands over your hips while he looked down at you.

“You've been pushing my buttons all week. I know you're waiting to see me snap. You're terribly obvious,” he started to say, peeling your shirt from your chest. You let him undress you, breathing in short, excited huffs. Your pants followed, leaving you in the same cute underwear you'd pulled aside to take pictures in earlier. Nanami’s fingers brushed so lightly over your nipples that you shivered, even his lightest touch making you soak your underwear.

“I think I should have your clit in my mouth about it.”

Your eyes widened at his firm statement, mouth going slack.

“You-- what?”

Nanami leaned in closer, his lips brushing your ear.

“Here's what is going to happen. You're going to sit on my face until I suck the attitude right out of your pussy, and after you've came so many times you can't even think, I'm going to ram my cock so far inside you that you'll see it poking against that cute tummy. I'm going to fuck you all night, give you so many orgasms that you'll pass out, and then I'll pull out even more from you. You must be such a needy thing to have been so bratty.”

Nanami hadn’t dirty talked you like this before, always electing to be a gentleman. Your knees went weak and you fell back on the bed, looking up at his pleased smile and glint in his eye. He unbuttoned his shirt before leaning down and finally kissing you.

It was a hungry kiss, possessive and rough. He nipped at your bottom lip before pulling away, his hand wrapped around your throat.

“You're going to be a good girl and cum for me as much as I ask, aren’t you?” He asked, and you could only nod your head, too shocked by the side of him you had brought out. It only took him ten seconds to lay on the bed and pull you over him, your plush thighs on either side of his head, pussy hovering over his mouth.

“A-are you sure you want me up here? I'm kinda heavy--” you tried to decline, but his grip on your thighs tightened and he pulled you down until you were firmly on his face, his tongue swiping through your folds with a moan. You buried your hand in his soft blond hair as you gasped.

Nanami sucked your clit between his lips, teasing the bud with his tongue. His eyes never left your face as he drove you to your peak, dedicated and unerring. Every lick, every bit of suction, was crafted to drag you over the edge. You came hard at his ardent attention, shaking and squeezing his head with your thighs, but his mouth merely slowed. He refused to stop.

“K-Kento, please, I just came--” you panted, trying to push his head away, trying to lift yourself up only for him to hold you down tighter. He released your clit only to give you a stern look.

“That’s the first one, sweetheart. You better keep count,” he demanded before plunging his tongue inside your tight hole. You cried out as he fucked you with his tongue, your juices coating his face. He groaned into your cunt, hands bruising on your thighs.

It wasn’t fair. He was too good at pleasuring you, especially when he was laser focused on making you cum. You were still so sensitive from your first orgasm, your second snuck up on you too fast.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You whined, grinding onto his mouth. His nose rubbed your clit and your mouth dropped in a silent cry as you started to shake, overwhelmed. You fell forward and grabbed the headboard with trembling arms to keep yourself up. You could feel his laughter against your clit.

You were never going to piss him off again. He was a relentless, never ending force, worshipping your overstimulated clit even as you cried. It was as if his tongue and jaw could never tire of eating you. You lost count of the amount of times he made you cum, his fingers plunging into your cunt when you were too tired to try to lift off his face. You became incapable of anything more than whines and whimpers and moans, jaw slack and eyes glazed over. Fucked out before his cock was even out of his pants.

Kento finally detached his lips from your clit with a pop, panting heavily. He maneuvered your boneless body onto the bed, pressing slick soaked kisses across your chest.

“How many was that, sweetheart?” He asked. You struggled to even think of a number, your mind too foggy from cumming so much.

“Hnnn… uh… dunno,” you mumbled, whimpering when he pinched your nipple.

“Tsk. I only asked you for one thing, you brat,” he scolded you before flipping you onto your hands and knees. His strong forearm held you up while his large hand slapped your ass.

“You came eight times, darling. But don't you fret. I'll make it an even ten,” he told you, pressing a tender kiss to your sweaty forehead.

“Please, Kento, I'm sorry, I won't be so bratty,” you pleaded again as his hands gripped your hips. You could feel his thick cock sliding against your folds, slick with your cum and his saliva. He chuckled, a menacing sound.

“Don’t apologize now, my love. You needed attention, so you're getting it,” he told you before snapping his hips forward and filling your cunt in one swift motion. You cried out while he began to relentlessly pound your sensitive pussy, gushing around him just from being filled.

“Such a quick one. Do you love feeling my cock stretching you out that much? What a naughty girl,” he teased, reaching around to rub your swollen clit. His cock knocked again and again at your g-spot, his angle just right to drive you insane. He pushed your face into the bed, fingers tangled in your hair just enough to hurt in the good way. 

“Tell me how much you love my cock,” he grunted, softer than the loud slaps of his balls against your clit.

“I love it so much Kento! Need it so bad!” You babbled obediently. As fucked out as you were, you would agree to anything, your pussy doing your thinking for you. Anything to keep his cock stretching you so good.

“Yeah? You really needed a good fuck, didn’t you sweetheart?” He continued. You moaned as his thrusts slowed, hitting deeper, more precisely driving you to ruin.

“You're going to cream all over this cock, right?” He asked, so sweet. You nodded into the bed, his words pleasing you as much as his cock. 

“Good girl. Cum for me, let me feel you let go,” he purred, leaning over you so his breath was by your ear. You came your tenth time, liquid shooting out and soaking Nanami and the bed. You could hear him quietly curse before quickly pulling out, his cum hitting your back a second later. 

Despite your exhaustion and overwhelming bliss, you pouted.

“You didn’t cum inside…?” You whined. Nanami kissed your cheek and stood, already in aftercare mode.

“Mm, good girls can get creampied. Maybe next time you'll tell me what you need, won't you, dear?” He said, an amused grin on his face when your bottom lip wobbled. He kissed you, gentle and soft.

“I'll be right back with water. Can't have you pass out from dehydration this early, can I?” He said so sweetly. Your eyes snapped open from being so close to sleeping. His smile was full of malicious promise.

“Kento…?”

“I told you, didn’t I? All. Night.”

His voice brokered no disagreement as he rose from the bed. You vowed to stop your bratty ways if you survived…. At least for the next week.

[awkward-parabuteo]

A DAY IN THE RETRAINING OF MY HARRIS'S HAWK, ARAMIS

Come along for a glimpse at our routine!

Starting with fetching the man himself from his mews. Aramis is kept tied during the early stages of training, but is otherwise free lofted.

His pre-meal weight is noted, then we go on a short manning walk. There was a little breeze this morning and he got excited!

Then we're off to practice his recall to the glove! Aramis' meal is devided into tidbits and we repeat this exercise a few times. We just want him to hop on the fist in the beginning. Over time, we'll be able to recall him from a much greater distance as we continue to adjust his weight and his motivation increases. I'll also reintroduce him to the lure soon. He's very familiar with the process by now (this is our 7th hunting season together) and retraining usually doesn't take very long.

Aramis is weighed again once we're done, then he waits patiently in the travel box for me to move his bow perch outside (he really likes his box).

Time for a second manning walk!

Aramis is provided fresh water and gets to weather in the yard for the rest of the day since it's nice outside.

That's it for now, thanks for joining us! :)

[lurakha]

WALKING THE PATH THROUGH HENBANE RIVER

I. The Call

Joseph Seed hears the Voice. It calls on him to become a leader to give hope to wayward souls.

(x)

[twstinginthewind]

I gotta see Joker in C5 for that art clothing meme OwO

That's just her style! Pose ref from @adorkastock

Outfit drawing meme!

[sonicreferencephotos]

Silver the Hedgehog; Sonic Channel

Color palette used:

[bromance4everx]

trying to get used to digital drawing

haha wonky :]

[dogwooddiaries]

He Always Held My Hand (984 words) by Breakingofdawn Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Boys in the Boat (2023) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Bobby Moch, Gaston Moch Additional Tags: Family, Father-Son Relationship, Bobby Moch growing up, fluff-ish, but also a smidge angsty Summary:

He began to see how often others, even the kind ones, will underestimate you.  

In Montesano, the rain was expected. The thunder was not. Once a year or so these gales came, but it was the first that his young memory had a grip strong enough to keep. The storm was a monster, rushing in to deliver on the promise of his most vibrant, violent imaginings. Tremors shook his bones; he knew the world would crack apart.

For the young, time flattens and extends, spreading sticky and slow. This storm was surely eternal.

Just when he thought the walls of the room would bear down on him, a line of light slipped across his bed. Quiet steps brought a hovering shadow, familiar and full. Then, a gentle hand, fingertips and knuckles lost in the cave of a larger grip. Bobby curled his hand inside the clenching comfort of his father's.

***

Brow and cheeks flushed, the pain was storied in gripping fingers, a restless head, a rigid jaw. It peaked in Bobby's eyes, so tired of searching for help. They had started to surrender, lashes fluttering, eyes rolling back.

In the day to day, his father did not pull him close, not when they said goodnight or goodbye, not when tears threatened. But this night, his burning body was embedded inside strong arms, pressed to the chest, and carried across thresholds in search of help. Then finally, finally, a promise arrived. Help was coming. They waited together.

Mother's fingers, cool and gentle, traced relief onto forehead heat. And father, with his hand over hand. The touch did nothing to relieve the pain, but instead it repeated, with the rhythm of a pulse - I am here, I am here, I am here.

He was there. But his hands could not stay the cutting, the mistakes, the irreparable damage. He could only gather the broken body back up to himself and carry him home.

***

Just two years recovered, or perhaps remade is a better word. His eyes finally cleared the counter, his hands easily reached the tools - the lathe, the scale, the calipers in their shapely forms, leggy and one-armed. The jewelry shop was his toy store.

Sometimes he brought the pieces his father called for, knowing their names as well as his own, still learning the sizing for one or the other. He was almost grown now you know, too old to sit on the floor with the eye loupes, holding them up to magnify the wood grain, his fingernails, the stitches on his sleeve.

It was when the customers slipped through the door that his whole self would come alive. He cornered them with chatter and questions, curious and full of recall from their previous visits. But wide-eyed and slight, he was laughed at, offered a tootsie roll, or given a pat on the head. He began to see how often others, even the kind ones, will underestimate you.

One afternoon, they have together arranged all the repaired pieces of a watch on the tray, ready to reassemble. Some day, he told his father, he will work by his side.

"Your hands and head, they could do the work. There is already much you know. But Bobby, your mind is too fast; it would get bored."

The father's hand held the youthful, slender one as it twitched with stilted patience. He adjusted his position, strengthened his hold on the handle. Then they pivoted together, heavy fingers guiding fledgling ones.

"You'll find your work somewhere else, I think. You will use your mind to cut the world apart, Bobby. And you will fit it back together the way it should be."

The man's heart hummed on the inside, You've had to see how the world will take things to pieces. You can help make it right.

***

Bobby faces the breeze, lets the salty air dry his hair from the afternoon games and swim. Every day feels like a party when the victories have piled behind you and the Olympics are ahead.

The evening is closing in and he's found a quiet place, a tree to lean on, as he opens mail from home. The words feel as light as ink and paper always does. He doesn't perceive the weight of them when he opens the letter, even with the additional envelope. It's enclosed separately, smaller and stamped with a private note. Read alone is the message's urging.

Unfolding a paper unfolds a story, and it's one that can't be unread. Eyes scanning lines, hands unready to catch the pieces of what he's being given. The truth doesn't care that it falls into unprepared palms, it's been there all along. Bobby squeezes his eyes shut.

This identity, it's too tight, uncomfortable like new unworn shoes. But that can be adjusted, he can break it in with a walk, it will settle with some time. But his father - his father...? He kept it tucked away, like a burden, like a secret. Did he ever unfasten it? From time to time, did he leave it behind in the cedar chest at home? Or was that what made his shoulders curve bent over life, his back to the world, protecting him with his safe hands always covering his own?

***

Before returning to a new job and a new room as a new graduate, Bobby will walk the familiar path to the front door that he no longer thinks of as his. Soft and cool hands will press to his face with a kiss, a motherly smile more welcoming than any party.

He will set down his suitcase, weighted with souvenirs and gold. He will reach to shake his father's hand, and two arms will return to embrace him instead. Bobby will fold his arms around him in surprise, and he will place his hands against his back. It is straight and smooth. 

Then he will take his father's palms, press the round shining disk inside them, and wrap his own fingers underneath. 

[unkindhands]

quick break

[diofolio]

Stamp Skull

Medium: Ink

For this piece, I used my stamps to create a larger image.

[lurkerdelima]

Black Sails // Post Malone, ‘Something Real’

[pips0o]

Finished it

[iamthevampqueen]

Wanted to do something similar to a piece I did for class

[universalfanfic]

Berry sweet

[turtle-x-x]

“Wow.. it’s beautiful! I can’t believe it… fireworks are amazing huh..”

“Yeah, yeah. Can you rap it up?”

“Why do you have to ruin everything…”

“You’re the one being stupid. We have things to do, Xiu.”

“Just.. let me enjoy this.. a little longer…”

Time: unknown, I’ve worked on this for like a month trying to rework it and make it look good lol

Program: Autodesk Sketchbook

Character: Xiu (Ux in text)

I started this with lineart but when inking I realized it looked nice w/o it, so that’s what I did, i really like how it ended up lol!

“Doctor I can’t tell if I’m not me~~~” (/lyr)

[chubs291]

A Worse Dream

This is a little piece I wrote about my Roegadyn, it's a continuation of a piece that I wrote for the September 2024 writing challenge and I liked what I had already so I thought why not run with it. I'll probably do a couple continuations on this but we'll see.

Mammoth Mitch found himself leaning against the balcony of the Drowning Wench once more. His view directed to the sea like it had been last time, he had this dream before and it wasn’t a pleasant one. Mammoth sighed, normally he wasn’t so lucid in his dreams as to immediately recognize one but he supposed it had been a mighty frightful one. 

Eventually it’ll catch up with you and you’ll end up just like the captain, he didn’t know when to quit either!

The words of his friend Swain echoed through his head, the worst part about them was that they actually had a bit of merit. Mammoth didn’t want to quit adventuring, he loved it and the recent time that he had spent with his friends and allies only further reinforced this concept. 

Right as Mammoth felt his resolve flare a voice rang out, but not of his old dear friend Swain, “Oi Mammoth, me old boy, how’s life been?” The voice was gruff and deep, similar to Mammoth’s own but with a hint of maturity that he lacked. This was the voice of his uncle, Ulfnar Riesig. Mammoth spun on his heel, a mixture of emotions at hearing this voice, he never dreamt of his uncle or at least never to the point where he heard his voice so clearly. And, unless Mammoth’s eyes were playing tricks on him, there stood his uncle. Tall and proud, dressed in a crimson coat with his leather tricorn still sat upon his head. 

“What, d’ya not give your uncle a hug when ya see him?” The old man let out a hearty chuckle at the dumbfound expression on Mammoth’s face. 

“It’s just been a while, haven’t seen ya in seven years is all.” Mammoth said, leaning against the balcony and staring his uncle over top to bottom, he was just as he remembered him. Every scar on his face and every little trinket he hung from his belt. 

“Well that’s why I’m here actually. . .” Ulfnar explained, absent-mindedly picking up one of the tankards from a nearby tankard, the man sat at it not quite noticing. “You’re still going strong, with that same stubborn attitude that you had even when you were a wee lad.” The captain took one drag from the flagon before placing it back down. 

“You better not go spouting the same nonsense that Swain was, bout me settlin’ down! There’s still so many people that need my help, and me own health be damned, I'm gonna help em!” Mammoth shouted, taking a defiant step forward. 

This step forward was quickly stopped as a quick and strong punch thundered away from Ulfnar, right into Mammoth’s abdomen, sending him doubling over. “You shut your trap boy, you and I both know you’re a bloody liar.” Ulfnar looked down at Mammoth, a look of disgust on his face. “You’re a warrior, you fight, you kill, that’s who you are. That ain’t ever gonna change and you know it. You know that if you quit, well what in the seven hells is gonna be left o’ ya?” 

“What are ya talking about uncle?” Mammoth groaned as he tried to catch his breath and right himself.

“You know exactly what I mean, you’re just a swinging axe and you know it. Wanna know what else you know, Mammoth?” Ulfnar leaned down, right next to Mammoth’s ear. “Ya know that your use is running out. What’s a one-man army good for in a land where everyone’s at peace huh?” A swift leg sweep sent Mammoth toppling to the ground. “And you know it’s only a matter of time before everyone else realizes it too, you’re nothing but a killer, and you’re damn good at it too.” The look on Ulfnar’s face was a mix between sheer contempt and an odd joy, “You thought that your little spat with the good folks of Alexandria was gonna last a whole lot longer. You hate to admit it, but a small part of you was happy when you saw those bikes flying over Tuliyollal. You hated yourself for it, but you knew what it meant. It meant the fight wasn’t over!” Mammoth started picking himself back up, he got his hands under him and started to rise. “But then, they just weren’t enough! Neither the lizard nor that bot could do you in, could they? They weren’t good enough to kill Mammoth Mitch! So now you sit on your hands again, waiting for the moment that you see enemies on the horizon, waiting for when the good folks of this shard start to get butchered again so that you can pick your axe up and let loose!” 

Now Mammoth was standing and he was quick to retaliate but not with any words, for he found himself without any. Everything his uncle said was true, and he hated himself for it. Mammoth’s hand flew out, quick as a flash and gripped his uncle’s throat. His anger rose to a boiling point and he hoisted his uncle over the balcony, the man’s feet kicking at the air. Mammoth expected a grunt of surprise, or terror, really anything you would normally expect when you’re about to throw someone off a twelves-damned tower. Instead his uncle just laughed, a low and hearty one that Mammoth associated with memories of joy, and counting loot, and general merriment. Now all Mammoth felt was that same ugly rage that he had experienced when he was speaking with Swain. 

“You still don’t get it do you boy?” Mammoth blinked and in that instant their roles were reversed. Mammoth now hung over the edge, his feet dangling and the last thing still keeping him from a long fall being his uncle’s hand wrapped around his throat. . . No, no that’s wrong. Mammoth looked at what was once his uncle, who was now a far more familiar face. He stared back at himself, that same look of contempt upon his face. “I’m you, this is a dream and this is yourself telling you all these horrible things! There’s no boogeyman this time Mammoth, nobody to fight, these are all your own thoughts!” 

Mammoth struggled, his hands grasping at his throat as he felt his airway get blocked from his double’s grip. 

“And you wanna know the worst part? They have some merit, I only give it a bit o’ time before your friends and definitely the damn Grand Companies figure out the danger you might pose, you got that inner beast in ya, it could come out at any point and they know how sloppy you can be! How long ‘fore they come and clap you in irons huh Mammoth?” 

Though Mammoth could feel his breath start to give out he still managed to mutter, “L-liar, they wouldn’t do that, and I don’t think that!” Mammoth continued to struggle, trying to break the grasp on his throat. 

“Oh still not convinced then? Let me establish my credibility then yeah? Let me tell you your deepest and darkest secret, the thing that you pushed to the back of your mind and hoped would never see the light of day again!” Mammoth hoped he wouldn’t say it, he would beg him not to if he could talk with how tight the grip around his throat had become. “When you fought Zenos Yae Galvus, at the end of the bleeding universe, you hoped he’d kill you. Oh you fucking wished with all of your being that he would be the one to do you in! One last glorious battle at the end of the universe, your might against his, the truest end to a warrior like you! You’d be a legend, Mammoth Mitch! The warrior who died protecting every last soul on this shard and all others, would be a mighty end to your tale indeed! But that isn’t what happened, your friends brought you back from the brink and now you sit here in a time of peace, and you hate it. Cause now? Now you gotta live in this time of peace, the corners of the map are being filled Mammoth. You’re running out of foes to fight and after the last monster falls to your axe what will you do?”

Mammoth was silent, both from a lack of oxygen but also due to his mind being in a sense of panic, this was all true, everything his double said was true and he felt disgusted at himself. 

“But Mammoth, old friend, my greatest ally, I have a solution. It’s more of a proposition than anything,” Mammoth picked his head up, staring directly into the eyes of this double, was that red tint always there? “Take up your axe against the Grand Companies, against the other warriors of light. Think about it, the foes of this shard are mighty but what of those who defeated those foes? You cannot let yourself be made redundant, what is a warrior without a war to fight? So make your own, take up your axe and fight, relish in the glory and bliss of combat!” 

Mammoth’s eyes widened in shock, panic, and fear all at once. What was he saying, was this what Mammoth himself thought? No, no that couldn’t be, he had some self-destructive thoughts before but this was too much. What was happening here? Before Mammoth could think about it, the grip was released. Mammoth felt himself fall, he felt himself begin to plummet from the tower and once more down to the rocky waters below, as he fell he heard a voice ring through his ears. “Think about it will ya? Only so much more time until there’s no more battles left to fight, and at that point what do you think your allies will do with you then?”

And then Mammoth woke up, a shout of panic leaving his lungs and his hand gripping his head as a migraine shook his entire body. His entire body was drenched in a cold sweat and waves of pain echoed throughout his body. Whatever that was, that wasn’t just a bad dream. Mammoth had to find out what was happening to him. Mammoth’s mind shuttered as it regained a sense of focus, he wouldn’t hurt his friends, he knew that to be true. But everything else that double said was true, so was it part of his mind? Whatever it was Mammoth had to figure things out soon, he feared that whatever was doing this to him would not take no for an answer next time it came asking. 

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The squad of all time has arrived on scene.