who-you-are-in-the-bark

[who-you-are-in-the-bark]

one time i hooked up with a guy and he ate my ass and jerked me off and then his boyfriend came home and was like kind of upset that he didn't get to have sex with me too. so i was like hey we can do sex that's fine by me. i can cum again. and so he's like ok lets take a shower together and ill jerk you off in the shower. and as hes jerking me off in the shower he asks if i use my phone while i shower. and i say no. and he says he always uses his phone in the shower. and sometimes he takes off the case and washes his phone with shampoo and water just for fun. and he's broken five phones this year from doing that but he's not going to stop because he just wants his phone to be clean and feel good. hes still jerking me off as he tells me about this. this is a real story you have to believe me

[who-you-are-in-the-bark]

you ever have a moment where you're like 'no. there is NO WAY this is turning me on'

[who-you-are-in-the-bark]

[who-you-are-in-the-bark]

More XXX toad licking on Patreon.

[who-you-are-in-the-bark]

I’m curious how Ratchet or the Constructicons are gonna be when their traditionally pregnant human actually shits out the baby/sparkling-

Wait- TFP Ratchet has June, but who the hell’s helping the Constructicons?? Dear gOD

🤣 technically Hook is a medic, though he’s more the patch ‘em up and shove ‘em back out on the battlefield type. Which leaves… heh. CW: physical pregnancy 🔞

Sparklings

Flatline, Constructicons x Reader

• “Her plating is still developing,” Flatline says, using a servo to check the tiny Seeker’s hands, watching her servos flex and grab. “She’s going to be chewing on things trying to supplement her diet. I’ll get you some appropriate materials for her to eat, so she doesn’t end up making herself sick eating the wrong things.” And he’s reaching with his free hand to nudge you away when you try to move closer again. Knows you’re enamored with the sparkling, but just because she’s gentle with her own human carrier, doesn’t mean you’re safe to be near her. Not when you’re toy sized. Glancing at you, he wonders if you’d want a sparkling at some point. The tiny seeker is adorable.

• ‘So it’s normal,’ Starscream murmurs, wings lowering from the stiff, aggressive flare he’s had this whole time. And while Flatline doesn’t really care for the mech, he likes him a little more for worrying over the sparkling he sired. The first of hopefully many, a second chance for the Cybertronian race. ‘She keeps wanting my food,’ Starscream’s human pipes up, from their spot cradled in the Seeker’s hand against his chassis. It’s an odd picture, human and Cybertronian and their offspring. “She might be able to metabolize some of it, but I wouldn’t risk it,” Flatline says.

• And the Seeker hisses as the Medbay door is shoved open. Staring up at Bonecrusher and Mixmaster, Flatline vents. “If you need medical attention, it’s going to be a minute unless it’s an emergency, so-” Snarling in surprise as he’s seized by an arm and hauled off his peds by Bonecrusher, the big mech tucking him against his side as he runs so Flatline’s dangling like a sparkling. Guesses it is an emergency.

• Looking up as you gasp again, writhing in the nest of blankets they’ve given you, Hook growls as he spots his brothers with the little professionally trained medic with his stupid, little certificates. Hating that he needs the other mech, but he’s in over his head as you whimper, breathing raggedly and skin slick with sweat. ‘What is this? What did you do to that human?’ Flatline snarls, struggling to get loose and Bonecrusher unceremoniously drops him. “We sparked our mate and it didn’t do quite right,” Hook growls, because they’ve been hiding you and what’s going on from the other Decepticons, unsure how they’ll react.

• Gingerly pulling back the edge of the blanket draped across your lower body, Flatline stiffens. That’s not possible. Is it? He wishes it wasn’t. “You’re a medic,” he murmurs weakly, staring at the Constructicons’s mate’s round belly. Pregnant like a human normally is. How? And Bonecrusher’s big servos curl around the back of his neck and helm, holding him in place when he tries to retreat. ‘Delicate stuff isn’t my wheelhouse,’ Hook mutters as it sinks in that they want him to deliver their hybrid offspring. Making almost the same pained whimper the human does at that realization.

• Several excruciating joors later, servos of both sets of hands trembling and still slick with things Flatline’s trying very hard to not think about, he carefully places the warm, wet, and disturbingly soft sparkling in its human carrier’s arms. It looks like a normal protoform, but its mesh is far too soft and its little mouth opens on a hitching wail. At some point, Scrapper had purged after you’d eliminated on yourself and he’d nearly purged, too. Hadn’t realized human birth would be so messy. Or traumatic. Audials still ringing from your screams and threats to dismember the Constructicons for doing this to you. You’d howled at him, too. Demanding an epidural, whatever that is, and then swearing at him when told he didn’t have one. You’re at least calm now, face flushed and sweaty as you croon at the sparkling he’d help deliver. And he’s going to go stand under a washrack. Maybe refuse to come back out for the rest of the rotation. What if whatever weirdness caused the Constructicons to be able to actually have a physical pregnancy instead of carrying a spark isn’t a one-off? What if he has to do this again? Stumbling when Bonecrusher smacks him across the back with a big hand, he stares at the tiny sparkling crying in its carrier’s arms and wants to cry himself.

[who-you-are-in-the-bark]

Girl listening music through her boobs, scanned via a 70s erotica mag.

What song do you think she’s listening to?

[who-you-are-in-the-bark]

[who-you-are-in-the-bark]

https://www.tumblr.com/doc-art/783742548692844544/amelia-doodles?source=share

this the one?

I got a request for help finding an artist through the confessions blog. That's technically against the rules of the blog but I wanna help them out so I'm posting it here. I know what artist they're talking about, I saw them on my dash recently, I just don't know the name.

im trying to find an artist on tumblr, they make art of massive alligators, lots of times theyre wearing swimsuits and stuff. can anybody help me?

[who-you-are-in-the-bark]

gimme like 30 minutes to search through this blog i know EXACTLY who you're talking about

I got a request for help finding an artist through the confessions blog. That's technically against the rules of the blog but I wanna help them out so I'm posting it here. I know what artist they're talking about, I saw them on my dash recently, I just don't know the name.

im trying to find an artist on tumblr, they make art of massive alligators, lots of times theyre wearing swimsuits and stuff. can anybody help me?

[who-you-are-in-the-bark]

[who-you-are-in-the-bark]

a thick, yummy one? 🤔

[who-you-are-in-the-bark]

The author's blatant fetish. The one you picked this book up for. Because you also have that fetish.

[who-you-are-in-the-bark]

tw blood, gore, dismemberment

Getting ritually, consensually maimed by some kind of wolf deity.

______

Traveling deep into the woods, into the mist. Kneeling before the deity in reverence, offering part of yourself as sacrifice. You understand perfectly well what they are, but you’re still a little shocked when they speak to accept the offer. Removing your shirt, you obey their command to lie down.

Closer they come, looming over you. Placing one forepaw on your shoulder and the other on the palm of your hand, they hold your offered right arm in place.

You dare to take some comfort in their touch, in this intimacy with the great beast, during the few remaining moments before the maw descends. The last thing you use your fingers for is to hold tight to their enormous paw as it begins. Given the magnitude of the sacrifice you’re about to make, they allow this small gesture of tenderness.

Then, their fangs sink deep into your flesh and scrape hard against bone. Twisting their head, they start to rip.

Some magic binds your soul to your body as the wolf tears strips of muscle and skin away, throwing their head back to devour them. No matter how much blood you lose or how blinding the pain is, neither death nor unconsciousness descends on you.

The screams and groans they extract are as much a song of worship as an expression of pain. An honor, to see their maw painted red and glistening with the discharge from your brachial artery. Listening to the deep churring in their throat, relishing the knowledge that they’re enjoying this.

Maybe flesh offered tastes different from flesh taken. A rare delicacy, possibly worth an exercise in restraint and a boon in return for the offering.

.

[who-you-are-in-the-bark]

the economy is in shambles

[who-you-are-in-the-bark]

nsfw sideblogs r so funny. my friend we can't talk here it isn't safe.. we have to go to sex world together

[who-you-are-in-the-bark]

New discourse: it's actually predatory to date someone with a different star sign than you, because the differences in your personalities means you'll never be able to have exactly the same life experiences, thus leaving a knowledge and power gap between the two of you which will inevitably lead to an abusive relationship!

also if you're a Sag and you're dating a Taurus, that means you're secretly seeking a May-December relationship, which is age gap coded!