i dont care if monday sucks... tuesday cost me sixty bucks... wednesday thursday give no fucks. it's friday im a duck

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Keni

JVL
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Three Goblin Art

Product Placement
art blog(derogatory)
noise dept.
styofa doing anything
trying on a metaphor

@theartofmadeline
todays bird

tannertan36

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Cosmic Funnies

Kiana Khansmith
Misplaced Lens Cap
Show & Tell

★
Stranger Things

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Netherlands
seen from Canada
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Netherlands

seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from Germany

seen from United States
seen from France

seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@brb-losingmymind
i dont care if monday sucks... tuesday cost me sixty bucks... wednesday thursday give no fucks. it's friday im a duck
<a feeling you can't translate>
"Absolute Terror Field" - Evangelion Wiki // End of Evangelion (1997, dir. Hideaki Anno) // Project Hail Mary - Andy Weir // Project Hail Mary (2026, dir. Phil Lord, Christopher Miller) // Neon Genesis Evangelion (1995-1996, dir. Hideaki Anno) Episode 4: "Hedgehog's Dilemma" // "気持ち悪い" - Wiktionary // "Kimochi Warui" - evamonkey.com
I cannot recommend bringing your heritage and culture into how you view media enough.
It is important to consider the culture of the person who created the piece, absolutely; but the different perspectives offered by the viewers is fascinating in and of itself and does not always detract from the message.
As an example, when I was younger, I watched Schindler's List. This movie is famously shot in black and white except for one section, concerning a little girl in a red coat. The camera follows her until her eventual death.
I am Turtle Island Indigenous and I was always taught that the only color spirits could see was red, because it is the color of life and blood.
So the second the girl in the red jacket came on screen, something inside me chilled with fear.
The only color in the movie was that red. At some point, I, the viewer, had died.
I remember sobbing at the sight of the burning human piles that were shown, convinced I was buried in there somewhere. The reason I had only seen red on the girl was that my death was recent. I was the ash in the air mistaken for snow. I had died before her and had followed her, helplessly, until she followed me.
The message I got for that was maybe not what the creator had intended: that there was no "being clever enough" or "good enough" or "kind enough" that would shield or protect you from such a massive tidal wave of evil.
You are not exempt from tragedy, that red jacket whispered. You are not special.
When I told some of my white friends about my experience with viewing Schindler's List, some were shocked and the rest just out-and-out mocked me for my "media illiteracy".
"it was just a filming trick to make you feel something," I remember one saying, which terrified me. How had he not felt anything even before she showed up?
However, when I repeated my viewing to a college class, they were fascinated. The implications of what I had seen and felt made the film all the more terrifying and solemn. It encouraged a lot of people to try to ask themselves what media meant from a cultural perspective, where they hadn't done that before.
scientists are in labs right now creating the thinnest and worst material known to mankind so they can make women’s clothing
Spaghetti strands that are 200 times thinner than a human hair could be woven into bandages to help prevent infections
Technically they're using it for bandages. For now.
Quote from the article
The resulting “nanopasta” can then be spun into a tiny mat about 2 centimetres across. While it isn’t intended as food, Clancy says that it should be safe to eat, but is reticent to talk about having tried it. “It’s an ethical quandary to talk about scientific self-experimentation,” he says. “But, hypothetically, one might expect it to be chewier than you’d expect.”
Oh he's definitely eating it
scientists are in labs right now creating the thinnest and worst material known to mankind so they can surreptitiously eat it
I was born in the exact right generation I love being an unmarried woman in my twenties with my own bank account and no children
This getting reblogged with “and my thirties” “and my forties” “and my fifties” “and my sixties”
baseball interviewers will ask "how do you throw the ball so good" and Mariners players will casually drop that they have a headmate who plays the game for them
all my alters become walters when i pitch the baseball of success
not dead yet. [A.I.]
🔪 Ashton x fem!reader (AU)
in which Ashton is a wanted criminal, and you’re his safe haven — in more ways than one.
a/n: trying something new with this one! heavy content warnings and a fresh new trope. surely this is what the fans wanna see :)
huge love and hugs to my bby @undersugarnights — who is largely the reason why this fic exists. my motivation and favorite brainstormer. thanks for your endless amounts of patience with me <3 couldn’t have done it without u! xoxo
CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!!!! dirty talk/pet names (ashton calls you pigeon), fingering, KNIFE/BLOODPLAY, (subsequently) mentions of blood/minor injury, unprotected pnv, creampie, porn with a decent amount of plot, straight up fiiiilthy shit.
wordcount: ~7.2k
── .✦
THE RETURN OF ROBIN HOOD:
LOCAL BANKS TO INCREASE SECURITY FOLLOWING A FOURTH SMALL SCALE ROBBERY IN UNDER A MONTH. SUSPECT IS STILL AT LARGE.
“Fuckin’ hell.”
parachutes for the free fall of being younger🌟
This stupid exchange between friends has become a cultural icon.
This stupid exchange
between friends has become a
cultural icon.
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
re ehrc guidance. which is not legally binding.
The people who insist AI is smarter than a human are doing their fucking damnedest to manifest that
“bits to use in everyday conversations”
It really might happen this year. I have a feeling.
our own patron saint of one way trips
the whole time
Snowbound
>pairing: male yeti x female reader
Dividers by: @ghostgum, @apollagraphics, @saradika-graphics, @cursed-carmine & @anitalerina
Rating: (18+)
Synopsis: A woman with a broken spirit flees her village, hoping for a new and better beginning elsewhere but a storm catches up to her and she begins regretting her life, feeling death creeping upon her — the last thing she sees is a big white shadow calling out to her.
Content warnings: heart warming, fantasy, yeti creature, kinda angsty beginning, tw-brief death mention, size difference, f!ng3ring, br33ding, impr3g, c0ck-warm!ng
Word count: ~5.2k
A/n: one for the holiday season :)
I've never truly belonged.
There's always been a distance between me and the rest of them — people so small-minded, so cruel in their uniformity.
They've always recoiled from what they couldn't understand: an independent spirit unwilling to kneel to their collective will.
I refused to bend, to lose myself in their rabble.
Their disapproval was nothing new — loud, predictable, almost comforting in its consistency. But even I didn't expect the mob.
An organized one, no less.
They surrounded my home like a pack of feral dogs, their faces twisted with ignorance and rage.
Daft, primitive people.
All because I dared to think differently. Because I chose my own path and refused to trade my celibacy for a man triple my age who believed he could simply claim me.
The very thought of it still makes my stomach turn.
Thirty of them came that night. They set my house ablaze, tore through my stores, stole whatever they could carry. Their shouts echoed through the smoke — savage, senseless.
But I was ready. I'd always known this day would come. My bag had been packed for months, one foot already pointed toward the horizon.
And as the flames devoured everything I'd built, I realized leaving was the most sincere freedom I'd ever known.
My village laid cradled in the hollow between two snowy mountain peaks — a place so remote it felt more like exile than a home. When the mob came, I had no choice but to climb.
There was nowhere else to go.
I wore five layers of clothing, the weight of snowshoes on my feet, and ice axes in my hands — my life lines for scaling the frozen terrain ahead.
Everything I owned, everything I was, pressed into a single pack against my back.
Imagine that.
A whole life reduced to one bag.
And so I climbed. Up into the white void, into a storm that swallowed sound and sky alike. Rash, reckless - I'd bolted without a plan, without a map, without a prayer for mercy from the mountain.
Now here I was.
Freezing on an endless sheet of snow as the blizzard howled around me.
I crouched beside a wall of ice, hugging my knees tight, trying to hold my body together, trying to keep myself awake. My fingers had gone stiff long ago, the numbness creeping higher with every heartbeat. Frostbite.
I wondered if I would lose anything - toes, fingers, pieces of myself.
The wind tore at me, flinging shards of snow and ice like a thousand tiny knives. My breath came in ragged bursts, hot puffs of air against trembling palms that gave no real warmth.
Looking at my own shaking, failing body, I felt the first sob break loose. My spirit cracked, and the adrenaline that had carried me this far drained away.
I was going to die here. On this damned mountain.
So this is how I end.
My sobs became rivers. All my life's frustrations, all my quiet rage poured out into the snow. I screamed into the white world until my throat burned, cursing it for murdering me this way.
But even as I screamed, my eyes kept searching.
Searching the blank horizon for a flicker of hope, a shadow, a shape, a hand.
Anyone.
Please.
The only answer was another cruel gust of wind.
And then, as though that had been the mountain's final word, something in me went still. My body stopped shaking. My heart slowed, each beat weaker, more sluggish.
One last breath fogged in the air. My eyelids lowered. My head tipped forward
What a small, quiet waste of a life.
.
.
.
.
.
Different pov
Damned weather. It always chooses the worst time to turn savage.
The sky had cracked open again, spitting another storm just as I was returning from the far ridges.
I had only a few miles left before reaching my cave when a sound cut through the blizzard - sharp and raw. A scream.
It tore straight through the wind, the kind that doesn't just echo, but hurts.
Someone was in pain.
I ran.
The snow was deep, fresh, swallowing my steps as I pushed through it. The scent of life - faint but unmistakable - drifted toward me through the icy air. I followed it, heart pounding hard enough to match the storm's rumble.
By the time I reached the source, the wind was howling like a living thing. Everything was white.
The ice wall ahead shimmered like glass, throwing my distorted reflection back at me - something half-beast, half-shadow.
I turned in circles, scanning the ground, the drifts, the silence between gusts. The scent was strong here. Too strong. It shouldn't end here unless -
No. Please, no.
A growl escaped my throat, anger and dread twisting in my chest. I had been too slow. I struck the snow with my foot, frustration rumbling up through me.
And that's when I saw it.
The shift of a boulder. Only... it wasn't a boulder.
It was a body.
I lunged forward, clearing the snow with both hands. Pale skin. Small frame. Human.
A woman.
She wasn't moving. Her lips were blue, her chest still. So fragile she looked carved from the mountain itself.
"Fuck," I hissed through my teeth, the word foreign but familiar on my tongue.
I dropped to my knees beside her and pressed my hands against her chest, forcing air into her lungs the way I'd once seen done long ago.
Once. To someone else who didn't make it.
"Breathe," I pleaded, "please... breathe." Each press grew more desperate, my breath clouding the air between us.
Back to protagonist
A sudden gasp tore through the silence — air, sharp and burning, flooded my lungs.
I was alive.
My chest heaved, the sound of my own breathing loud and wild in the storm's muffled world. My heart lurched back into rhythm; my limbs trembled as life crawled painfully beneath my cold skin.
Light. Too much light. Everything was white.
My eyes darted, struggling to focus, until the blur in front of me took shape — a face.
Not human, ..not entirely.
Broad, strong features carved with an almost tragic beauty; skin pale with a faint shimmer, as though the frost itself had shaped him. His eyes — deep, glacier-blue — searched mine with a look I didn't expect from something so formidable.
Real, human fear.
"Who... who are you?" my voice was a ghost of a sound, "Am I dreaming?"
Before he could answer, his large hands tightened gently around my shoulders, steadying me as the cold tore through me again.
"I'm cold..." I whispered, my teeth chattering so hard I could barely shape the words. My body was failing again; my eyelids grew heavy, fighting to stay open.
"Fuck," he muttered softly, the word strangely tender in his rough voice.
In one swift motion, his arm slipped around my waist, the other beneath my thighs. I felt the effortless strength of him as he lifted me — my limp form pressed close to the heat of his chest.
The world tilted, swaying.
I barely noticed him fastening something. Hooks, straps, the cold bite of metal against my coat. My arms fell uselessly around him as he secured me beneath his own, my cheek against his chest, hearing the steady thunder of his heart.
He said something, his voice deep and urgent but the words were swallowed by the wind. I only caught fragments, pieces of warmth and promise.
Then suddenly, movement.
He leapt, impossibly high, the air slicing past us as claws sank into ice with a guttural scrape. We were climbing-up, up, toward some unseen refuge above the storm.
"Don't worry," he murmured, the sound vibrating against my ear. "You'll be warm soon. I won't let you die."
His words lingered like a spell, wrapping around me as my consciousness slipped again. The heat of his body bled into mine, chasing the cold from my bones. My eyes fluttered shut.
And for the first time in a long while, I didn't fight sleep.
I awoke to a loud thump. I sprung up violently, a blanket falling off my chest.
I almost had a panic attack before realizing I'm not cold anymore. The room illuminated by the fire crackling next to the bed I've found myself laying in.
The bed was impossibly soft, a cocoon of warmth compared to the cold world I'd left behind. It was also vast — built for someone far taller, far broader than I could ever be.
As I looked at the blanket which slipped off my chest, I noticed I wasn't wearing my clothes.
I was wearing a sweater I didn't recognize — soft, warm, and far too large for me. It hung off my shoulders like a nightgown, swallowing me whole.
I pushed myself upright, crossing my legs slowly, the blanket falling into my lap as my eyes wandered.
The room was... beautiful.
Not in a way I expected, but in a way that felt alive —warm, quiet, deliberate. Dark wooden floors gleamed faintly in the firelight. A low stone table sat in the center of a thick brown rug, its edges soft and inviting, the flames from the hearth painting everything in amber hues.
To my left, a small nightstand held a few potted plants. Green, fragile things that seemed almost impossible this high above the world.
The walls curved around me in smooth circles of stone. Even the window, set directly beside the bed, was round, carved into the mountain itself.
When I leaned closer, pressing a hand to the cool edge of the frame, the truth settled over me.
We were inside the mountain.
No, not just inside it — cradled by it.
I inched forward until my face hovered near the glass. The storm still raged beyond, a furious blur of white and shadow. I gasped softly at the sight, feeling both protected and impossibly small.
Then, a sound.
A sharp, metallic clatter from beyond the doorway.
I flinched, twisting toward the noise. Another glow flickered in the adjoining room, warmer, steadier than the firelight here. And then, the scent reached me: rich, savory and mouthwatering.
Someone was cooking.
My stomach answered before my mind could.
Hunger guided me more than reason. I slid off the bed, the bottom of the sweater slipping past my knees as I set my bare feet onto the carpet.
I took a step — just a step — before the world tilted.
My knees gave out with an oomph, and I caught myself against the bedframe, my breath ragged, my limbs trembling.
I'd forgotten how weak I still was.
The sound of footsteps filled the space immediately — heavy and drawing closer. Each step reverberated through the floor, steady as a heartbeat.
And suddenly, I wasn't sure if I wanted to hide... or to be found.
"Are you all right?!", a familiar voice asked, mere inches in front of me as a huge hand settled into the mattress next to mine.
I looked up, only to see the same handsome face which had saved my life. He had beautifully piercing blue eyes and white hair.
He lifted a hand to my waist and hoisted me gently onto the mattress. I froze, unable to look away.
He was enormous, so impossibly strong, yet the way he held me made me feel weightless, like I was nothing more than a feather. His hands... they were warm and impossibly big, curling around me with careful precision.
I found myself staring at them for too long before looking back up into his eyes.
"Ah," he sighed softly, breaking his gaze from mine, “I knew it would be... overwhelming."
He let go, and I found myself wishing he hadn't. He had leaned down to meet my eyes, cradling me in a way that made the space between us feel charged and impossibly small.
"Yes, I am a yeti," he began, his voice low, measured, "I know it must be confusing... frightening—"
"No." My words stumbled out, my eyes still lost in his. I couldn't tear my gaze away. "I know what a yeti is, what one looks like. I... I'm not afraid of you."
His expression softened, a small, shy smile brushing his lips, "Well... uh, then. I am Migoi. This is my home I brought you to."
"My name is [Y/N]. Thank you... for saving my life", I smiled kindly at him.
Heat crept into his cheeks. He straightened abruptly and stepped back, avoiding my eyes as though my presence had suddenly become impossible to ignore.
The air between us shifted; my scent seemed to overwhelm him, drawing his attention in a way that made my heart flutter.
"I... uh," he stammered, glancing at my bare legs before letting his gaze travel back up, "I made some soup... to warm you up. If you'd like."
"Oh, thank you! I'm starv-" , before I could finish, he scurried back into the other room, leaving me blinking after him.
Did I say something wrong?
A few moments passed before he came back into the room with two bowls of steamy soup which smelled divine. He settled them on opposing ends of the small stone coffee table in front of the fire place.
Then he came over, wrapped me with the blanket and relocated me next to the table, with a bowl of warm soup in front of me.
He made sure I was all tight and warm, before he sat opposite me, "Eat."
"Right. Thank you again.", I mumbled softly as I took a spoon into my hand
He started eating, his bowl already half empty as I took the first spoonful to my mouth.
"Mmmm. This is divine", I sort of screamed enthusiastically. I started gulping the soup down as he chuckled.
We ate in silence, next to the crackling of the fire.
When I finished, he had been done long ago, I looked outside — the snowstorm had turned into a blizzard.
"I cannot explain how utterly grateful I am that you found me."
He just smiled endearingly and shook his head softly.
"Why were you up here anyway?"
It wasn't a judgy or descending tone, he was just genuinely curious.
"I-", is all I said before my lip started to quiver gently. “I was trying to-", I bit my lip, my head falling in surrender.
A gentle hand embraced my shoulder, squeezing in a reassuring way, "I don't have to know. It's okay."
I looked up at his kind eyes and smiled softly.
I mouthed a ‘thank you’ and took out my hand to squeeze his arm back in the same manner.
That's when a sudden wave of warmth and excitement spread throughout my body.
He seemed to have felt it too. His eyes lingered a bit too long at my small hand before he pulled his back suddenly.
"I think you should get some sleep, your body fought vicariously for its life today - it needs rest. You need rest.”
"Ah, yes, you're right”, I said, my eyes avoiding his intense gaze.
Before I knew it, I was getting picked up again.
I yelped.
He chuckled.
It was a deep timbre sort of laugh and since I was pressed to his chest, I felt every taught muscle under his shirt and all that fur.
He was very muscular. Yowza.
My eyes flicked up, and I found him watching me. A heat bloomed across my cheeks. I couldn't help it.
He had caught me staring. Not at his face... but at his chest.
Panic and embarrassment collided, and I pressed my hands to my face, hiding the blush that betrayed me. My heart hammered, and I could feel his gaze still lingering, sharp yet unjudging, making me burn even more.
A snortle was all I heard as he continued to the bed.
He settled me down, tucked me in.
He went to toss a few pieces of wood into the fire before turning back around, "Good night."
A kind smile stretched across his face as he looked at my silhouette, ridiculously out of place on his big bed.
His stare lingered, making me blush further and cover my cheeks with the duvet. He noticed and immediately turned for the door.
"Wait- where are you going to sleep?", I asked concerned. He's a big fella and I took up probably the only bed fit for his built in a thousand mile radius.
And just as if he had read my thoughts, "Don't worry about it. The couch fits me too."
"But I-", I felt bad.
He smiled at me, soft, warm, utterly disarming, and my chest tightened. "If you want," he said, voice low and teasing, "I could... join you on the bed."
I gasped, heat flooding my face like fire. My cheeks burned so fiercely I was certain they'd betrayed me, and for a moment, I was frozen in place, unable to look anywhere but him.
He laughed then, rich and teasing, and it made something flutter deep inside me.
"Like I said," he murmured, giving me a wink that made my stomach lurch, "don't worry about it." And just like that, he turned, slipping out of the room and closing the door behind him with the softest click.
I sank back against the mattress, every nerve still humming. Sleep was impossible. My mind refused to rest, replaying the memory of his taut muscles which had held mine full of mischief, warmth, and something else I couldn't name.
.
.
I woke to the sting of cold and the relentless hammer of hail against the window. The room was icy, the duvet doing little more than mocking me.
My body shivered violently, every limb heavy and numb, as if the cold itself had settled inside my bones.
The fire had died.
So had the warmth.
I curled into myself, desperate, futile, trying to will heat back into my frozen fingers and toes. My breaths came in short, frantic gasps. I couldn't stay here. I had to find him.
I had to find Migoi.
Carefully, I inched toward the edge of the mattress.
Each movement felt monumental, my muscles stiff, my skin prickling with frostbite's icy fingers. I could barely feel my fingertips, but I forced myself to reach out.
‘I need to start the fire’, I thought, though the words sounded hollow even in my own mind. I slipped off the bed with a soft thump, leaving the blanket behind, abandoning whatever meager protection it had offered.
It was an immediate regret.
I pressed myself together, knees to chest, arms wrapped around my torso. Any warmth I had left, I clutched to myself as if it could keep the cold from consuming me. My head fell forward, heavy on my knees. Exhaustion pulled at me like a tide, and I felt the edge of sleep beginning to claim me again.
Then — thudding.
A door opening.
Shouts. And then... warmth.
Strong, encompassing warmth wrapped around me before I even had a chance to understand. My body went slack, melting into it, releasing months of fear, frost, and loneliness. The heat seeped in, chasing the cold from my limbs, my chest, my heart.
Mmm... it was so impossibly warm.
My eyes fluttered closed, surrendering to the comforting embrace, and for the first time since the storm began, I felt safe. Truly, completely, safe.
The next time I opened them, I was greeted with such warmth that could probably only be found on a hot summer's day.
The fire was burning again and the room had that familiar orange hue once more. I was laying on my side, facing the window. The storm still raged beyond but I felt so safe and warm in here.
I crunched myself up into a ball, pulling the duvet closer to my body. That's when something tightened around my waist. I froze.
My hand traveled to the source, it was soft and most definitely an arm. A big arm. A big soft, warm arm.
I turned my head back. It was the same handsome face which had saved me before.
I gasped softly, pushing myself away out of instinct.
But he pressed me closer to his warmth. His arm tight around my waist, his palm resting in the middle of my chest.
He almost knocked the air out of my lungs. My eyes were glued to the window as my hands held his.
What was happening right now?
"Mmm", a soft hum was heard above my head as he nuzzled his face into my hair. Then his hand slowly pressed closer, his thumb grazing my breast slowly and tenderly.
I whimpered. I knew how I felt about this now. About him. But he's asleep.
I gripped his arm tighter. He's making me hot inside. I struggled under his tender touch, trying to keep myself from going mad.
That's when something hard pressed against my ass.
I knew exactly what it was and it was huge.
I moaned as it pressed against my clothed back. My legs immediately started rubbing against each other. I gasped as his other hand slithered underneath my torso and replaced the one on my chest, which then traveled to my abdomen, pushing my ass back onto his groin.
A moan was all that left my mouth as I felt its length and girth. My hands held onto his as he pushed and caressed.
Suddenly, the pressing ceased. His hold loosening as his hands froze.
"I am so sorry", his hands retrieving and I could feel his chest leaving my back.
I grabbed his hands, halting him in his actions, "No, don't leave."
He froze but his hands remained half retreated as I held them. "I know how I feel, I'm not afraid" said, pulling his hands back where they were, pressing myself closer to him.
A groan was all I heard before his hands gripped me tightly again. "You should be. Us males are very obsessive", he said as his lower hand slowly bunched up my sweater which hung between my legs.
He leaned his head over mine, "If you're certain of-
"I am certain", my voice pitched and agitated as I rubbed my ass against his groin.
A loud growl passed my ears, "Mine."
His hand slipped behind me, pushing his pants down and sliding his cock between my legs. I whimpered as it slipped past my thighs.
Oh gods.
His hand then slid back onto my abdomen. "Please just-", was all I got to say before one of his thick digits plunged deep into my pussy.
"Mmmm", was the only reply I could offer as my body twisted because of him.
He starts pumping his finger. In and out.
Ridiculously slow.
I moan with each pump, and soft groans could be heard behind me as his hips start moving.
He's sliding his cock back and forth, using my thighs for his pleasure. It went from slow and soft to hard and fast before I knew it.
All that could be heard throughout the room was the sound of skin smacking skin.
He added another finger inside me and just stayed like that as he wrecked me into oblivion. His groans and whimpers were adorable. It made me feel loved as he panted next to my ear, his other hand under my ribs, palm playing with my breast as he stabilized himself.
Pre cum leaked onto my skin and I could feel myself close, an orgasm nearing its end. I squeezed his cock with my hand, loving the texture, helping him finish as well.
He started staggering, his hips erratically pressing up against my ass. When he added a third finger is when I lost it and came all over his palm and cock.
He came as well, sperm spurting right into the duvet and pooling on the mattress.
I let go of his girth, the sticky substance tangled between my fingers. I grabbed his hand which fingers were still inside me with my sticky palm and caressed it softly.
He is mine and I am his.
But without a break, he pulled his hips back, his cock disappearing as well.
I thought it was over until he started shoving the tip of his cock past my entrance.
"Ahh," was all I could utter as his three fingers slipped out of me. They then helped his cock enter me. He pushed his cock into me with his hands and hips.
I was a writhing, moaning mess as he filled me and stretched me out. I clawed at his arm, trying to relieve some of the pressure.
"Just a little more", he grunted as he pushed another couple of inches inside me.
He was huge in both length, girth and texture. After one more help of the hand, he bottomed out. His soft, wooly shaft pressing into me.
"Are you okay, my love?", he panted out.
"I am amazing", I whispered back, "You are amazing."
He grunted as he heard those words, his cock twitching inside me as he started to shove his cock in and out.
It was an overbearing sensual feeling - having something so huge and textured beat inside me and stretch my walls with each push. I swear I could hear my heart beat within my walls.
He growled in my ear suddenly and changed his rhythm to godlike - inhumanly fast and hard.
I could only scream his name into the pillow beneath my head as he made love to me. He wasn't quiet either - his moaning and grunting parallel to mine.
Then, as he slowly curved my back, so his cock could slide in even more, he panted out a warning. "I don't think I can stop, love", he bit my earlobe softly, "but if you need me to I will."
I try to answer him but his love making is rendering me incapable of forming a coherent sentence. Only moans and gibberish come out.
He laughs softly. And it was such a hearty sexy laugh too. Then he halts his hips, his cock sliding halfway out so I can answer him.
I blush at his gentle treatment, "You make me feel alive," I look back at him with a crazy ass smile, "I want you to make love to me. So make love to me."
His eyes turn crazy and he slams his cock back in fully, "Your wish is my command, princess.”
I slump my head back onto the pillow, as I feel his cock pulse inside me again. I've never felt so good and so on fire at the same time.
He softly treads his arms to my thighs, kissing my back tenderly as he presses me close to him, turning me face down as he mounts me.
My legs rest around his huge thighs, ass against his abdomen, arms spread around the pillow under my head as he presses himself closer, flush against my back. His huge soft arms intertwined around my torso.
He plants a soft kiss to my nape, the calm before the storm as he starts pounding into me. The sound of skin smacking skin louder than the crackling of wood in the fire.
I moan and whimper into the pillow, as he's imprinting himself inside of me. In this position I can feel every vein and bump as he slides in and out.
I scream when I feel his cock stretch me out even more. Weird. Maybe it's just because my walls are sensitive as hell right now.
Then it comes again, his cock swells even more, my walls trying to keep up. "What is happening?!", I scream out as I twist my head to the side.
He keeps humping me, grunting as his cock swells up even more,"It's the way yeti males breed their partners."
He hisses as his cock barely slides out, much thicker than before, "If it's overwhelming, I'll stop."
I moan, the words that came out of his mouth only further pushing the want for him to continue. So, I push myself back onto his thick cock, barely..
"Does that answer your problem?", I hum as I feel his cock fully thrust inside me again.
He growls, grinding himself harshly against me as he pushes me back onto the pillow, his hold on my torso tightening.
He bites my earlobe again, "Yes, it does."
His cock swells up one last time, plugging me as he tries to slide out unsuccessfully. His cock twitching aggressively as he grumbles above me, grinding himself against my ass.
One of my hands slides down to hold onto his arm, as he starts filling my womb with his load. I whimper into my pillow as his sperm is hot and his tip is poking my womb.
His breeding is fast and aggressive, like there's no end to his load. His blazingly hot sperm spurting into me in aggressive gusts. Sticky string after a sticky string.
I whimper, spreading my legs further apart around his thighs, hoping for any kind of relief as he inseminates me.
His hands release their hold on my torso, traveling to my hips, sensing what I am trying to do as he spills into me. He spreads my thighs so I actually feel comfortable and lowers my belly between his thighs, arching my back so I can take more.
I moan as he hunches back over me, his hands sliding up my arms until he finds my palms beneath my pillow, intertwining them.
"Just a bit more, love, I promise", he says next to my ear, his head resting on my shoulder.
I hum out a response which came off more as a cry than anything. He grunts back as he finishes, his cock stuck inside me.
One last spurt of cum which makes me writhe a bit, before he says, "I am sorry love, but I have to stay inside you."
I turn my head to the side, huff out a breathy moan, feeling his cock limp inside me, but still swollen up and showing no signs of decreasing.
"I'm just tired", I say squeezing his hands which were tangled with mine.
He chuckled softly, then turned us on our sides again, this time so I was facing the fire crackling within the stone walls, and covered us properly with the duvet.
He arched my back so my belly could hang loose, and bent my legs with his. He then slipped his right hand beneath my top thigh and softly, by just a little bit, lifted it and relieved a bit of the pressure inside my abdomen.
His left hand slipped under my ribcage and lovingly made its way under my breasts, his thumb caressing the skin there.
I've never felt this loved.
"I'll always take care of you and worship you. Even as years go by, I'll love you the same. You're my spark", he says as he kisses my cheek.
I feel a tear make its way down onto the pillow, the other one he kisses away. "I love you, too", is all I can say in the moment as my voice had already given out moment ago.
"I love you", he says lovingly in my ear, still holding my leg, making me realize how funny a thing distance is.
The love of my love had always been a mere climb away. I laugh to myself softly, as my eyes close, exhaustion kicking in as I lay in his warm embrace.
I can't wait for life to unfold.
Weird cat
I think your cat is smoother than it should be
Not all breeds have a ruff