curious. anyway,
Never forget how far you’ve come, despite how far you still have to go
Never forget how
far you’ve come, despite how far
you still have to go
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

shark vs the universe
Three Goblin Art
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
NASA

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

JVL
Today's Document

izzy's playlists!
Acquired Stardust

oozey mess
RMH

@theartofmadeline
will byers stan first human second

No title available

No title available
Not today Justin

tannertan36

No title available

JBB: An Artblog!

Discoholic 🪩

seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from Singapore

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Germany
seen from Slovenia

seen from United States

seen from Maldives
seen from Slovenia

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Egypt
@dreamreaperrr
curious. anyway,
Never forget how far you’ve come, despite how far you still have to go
Never forget how
far you’ve come, despite how far
you still have to go
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
do not forget the patron saint of these weeks that we celebrate ourselves proudly and openly in the streets
her name was Marsha P Johnson, and we have her to thank for so much.
remember, the first Pride was a riot, and she was one of the brave souls who endured it to help carve the path which so many of us walk today. she helped found several activist groups regarding LGBT safety and wellbeing. and she was absolutely radiant, too.
thank you, Marsha. we remember you.
Suffering a heatwave where I am rn
so thinking of sitting nude in your own apartment, you've got air coolers on but it feels like it's barely doing anything, you feel like you're melting.
You've had your portal pussy on still but it seems the heatwave is affecting almost everyone since you've not had a single client today.
So as you lay on your couch, completely nude and sucking on an ice pop to try and cool down you feel a sudden chill between your legs.
It sends a pleasant cold shiver up your spine as you look down between your legs, wondering if you were just imagining something.
And then you feel the ice cool tip of something slowly pushing into your pussy, it felt as if it were simply testing, wondering how your body would react.
And your body welcomed the sudden cooling feeling, pressing your head back into the pillow wondering if someone was shoving an ice pop or something up there.
Once it felt you squeeze around it slightly it began to push further in, you could feel the full length of it.
It felt ridged and bumped and practically freezing, the coldness spreading through your legs and up your belly and you couldn't help but let out a small pleased moan at the pleasant feeling.
It seemed to just sit in you for awhile, cooling your body down and you felt some of your energy coming back to you as you began to squeeze around the length wanting to feel more of it.
You feel it twitch slightly inside of you, ah so it wasn't just an ice pop... You began to wonder just what this creature is...
It starts to move slowly in and out of you before you begin to moan louder and it's as if the creature could hear you from it's end as the pace began to pick up with more intensity.
You arched your back, almost screaming as you orgasmed around its cock, squirting around the shaft and that was enough to send whatever it was over the edge as it pushed deep into you.
A thick cool liquid began to fill you, making you coo as you felt the chill over your body and almost whining as you feel the creature pull out.
You could feel its cum seeping down your legs, panting heavily as you heard a ping on your phone, reaching over to grab it you looked at the profile picture of what seemed like some kind of ice demon.
"Not many people like the cold, this one I will be returning back to again and again. 5 stars" and look... He even left a tip.
You realized you might need a few hot water bottles for when winter comes around but you want this guy coming again and again through this heatwave.
awww the like button turns into a rainbow when you press it! that's so cute...hey staff what's with all the trans women you keep nuking?
i think we should be ridiculing them more for this. you don't get to try and go all "queer website" when your staff likes to go on nuking sprees targeting the trans fem users
would be remiss not to mention that the rainbow notably straight up just removed the trans flag colors from it. like they’re gone. it’s the progress flag minus the trans flag colors.
that’s not the whole flag, now is it
hey staff what the fuck
hey staff don't you think you're being too on-the-nose
HEY STAFF DONT YOU THINK YOU'RE BEING TOO ON-THE-NOSE
the thing about my submissive pathetic service top side is sometimes it comes out without me even realizing. it starts slowly, my thrusts stuttering slightly as she moans how good it feels, a whine escaping as her nails dig into my back. she notices it before i do, her eyes opening just enough to look up at me, watching the subtle expression on my face as i resist giving in to it. there's a certain look she gives me, dark and searching, one that tells me my control is slipping. and fast.
i don’t even realize how far gone i am until i hear myself begging. head pressed into her shoulder, eyes scrunched shut, begging her to please please please let me keep going.
time is passing but my head is empty, every fiber of me dedicated to how good it feels to have her like this, fucking into her like it's the only thing i know. she's cum more times than i can count but i can't stop mumbling please over and over against her skin, barely able to get the words out. baby please it feels so fucking good. i'll go slow i promise- icantstop pleasepleasepleasedon'tmakemestop.
she doesn't make me stop. she brings one hand up to the back of my head, nails scratching against my scalp soothingly as she coos at me. she tells me to just breathe, baby. tells me she’s got me. tells me i don't have to stop, i just need to go easy. i nod brainlessly, trying to slow my pace, clinging onto her voice like it’s the only thing holding me together.
i’m speeding up again before i stop myself, words tumbling over each other, slurred and needy. telling her it feels too good, that i can't go slow, that i’ll do anything, god please. please let me- please i’msoclose i’ll be good babypleasecanicum.
and she laughs. smug and teasing as she watches me fall apart. condescendingly pointing out that it's always just so easy to get me like this. it's fucking pathetic. she knows talking like that makes it even worse. that's why she does it. i can feel you shaking sweet girl, you must really need it huh? then be good and cum for me.
the permission is barely out of her mouth before my body tenses up, teeth sinking into her shoulder to try and muffle my whining. if she's still talking, i can't hear it, any semblance of thought completely gone as i collapse onto her, breathless and brainless. she wraps her arms around me and holds me against her, like she knows it'll be a while before i'm able to form a coherent thought. like she understands how badly i've been needing this. like she was waiting the entire time for me to unravel the way i only do for her.
YOUR HUSBAND IS C☆MING .ᐟ
SYNOPSIS :☆: it's your wedding day!
zayne ⋮ he's too overwhelmed seeing you in white .ᐟ caleb ⋮ you just cannot get your hair right .ᐟ xavier ⋮ your wedding is in 5 hours and you haven't slept a wink .ᐟ rafayel ⋮ he finally gets to fuck his bride .ᐟ sylus ⋮ he's not allowed to see you .ᐟ
CW :☆: MDNI! unprotected sex (p in v), semi-public sex, blindfolding, spit play, overstimulation, edging, dirty talk, thigh-fucking, creampie, rafayel nearly ebbing, LIs being mushy
ZAYNE LI ☆
It’s a modest wedding—just close friends and family gathered to bless the two of you. Still, you’re getting married. So here you are, dressing together, and Zayne—god, zayne, is overwhelmed at the sight of you in white. Ready to marry him.
And he doesn’t know what to do with it than to—
COCKWARMING THEM WHILE THEY WORK ft. genshin men
ʚ♡ɞฺ main m.list ྀིᨯ — cw. nsfw & 18+ content ahead, cockwarming, i don't specify gender so take it as you will; characters included: albedo, alhaitham, capitano, childe, wriothesley, diluc, neuvillette, kinich, xiao, dainsleif, wanderer - nsfw utc!
Fangs out for another ride around the sun
Grab prints here or here
Sylus as a Husband Headcanons 🐦⬛
Being married to Sylus feels dangerous at first.
Not because he would ever hurt you.
Because loving him so completely feels overwhelming.
Sylus does nothing halfway, especially not devotion.
And once you become his wife, you realise something terrifying very quickly:
There is genuinely nothing this man would not give you.
Nothing.
a/n: to my poc players, we belong here too
zaynexgn!reader, tw: racial abuse. zayne comforts you after you’re discriminated against
When Zayne picks you up, he’s not surprised to see you’re tired. You’ve been out on patrol all day, tending to civilian needs and bringing in the wounded. You go above and beyond as a Hunter - there’s a reason why you’re spoken of so highly by your colleagues.
He is concerned, however, when you don’t say anything. He’s not used to the quiet now, with you in his life. You bring joy and radiance into every corner, but when he looks at you now all he sees are dark circles and a stern jaw.
When he quietly says your name, you can’t help but crack. You don’t break, not yet, because you’re used to this. It’s happened before, and it will happen again, but for some reason you can’t shake this instance off like usual.
The anger doesn’t settle in, instead only shock and useless hurt takes its place.
With trembling lips, you say, “I’m sorry. I’m— It’s just been a really long day.” And when you sigh, you try your best to use it as a way of concealing the sob that threatens to spill. It doesn’t work, though.
Perhaps on another day Zayne would leave it there, and wait till you’re home to speak about it. Today he can’t though. You tremble beside him, and he sees the glistening of tears building on your lash line reflected in the car window. Your voice is thick and lacks the softness usually there.
He reaches over the console and brushes his hand over yours. It’s a cool sensation that relieves your sweating palms, and you grip onto them. It’s only when you realise that you’re being a nuisance, prolonging the journey home like this, that tears fall down your face. You try to stay quiet, but the sounds of hiccups and sobs resonates in the car and Zayne’s heart freezes.
He gets out of the car and strides to your side of it. The car door’s opened, and soon you’re being lifted into his arms. It’s a quick manoeuvre of him sitting on the passenger seat with you in his lap, and you realise he’s been careful not to disrupt your position too much.
When Zayne closes the door, another sob rattles through you as the final breaths of winter leave the cramped space. He soothes you, rubbing circles on your back and gently rocking you.
It’s takes a while, you let yourself fully fall apart in his lap, but the pain dulls ever so slightly. When Zayne tentatively asks if you want to talk about it, you confide in him.
Your workday had started like any other. Check in at the association, read over case files, patrol your designated area of Linkon and fight the wanderers. With wanderers come injured civilians, and naturally you’re there to help the wounded. Helping the general public is part of your job, and you would do it even if it wasn’t.
Today, though, a civilian lashed out at you. Had spewed something about “people like you” being the reason why wanderers attacked in the first place. They’d shouted names you’d heard before, the ones you’d been exposed to as a child whilst the rest of the world learnt them as adults. The civilian tried to reject your help, and whilst a part of you thought they’d be best fending for themselves, you decided to step up. You wanted to be the better person.
So, you dealt with it. The names, the visceral reaction to your presence, the condescending attitude that only focused on your appearance. They spoke of your skin tone, cried of revolting smells and claimed you were the lowest of the low. You just dealt with it. You listened to it all as you did your job and brought the civilian to paramedics nearby.
Your colleagues had finished dealing with other civilians at the same time, and a higher up sent you back to the Association. They never said it, but you know they all saw. When your superior made the decision, there was a gentleness to their eyes and a soft touch to your shoulder.
You’re used to that too. The condolences. Perhaps you should be grateful for it, but today you’re tired.
You’re exhausted, because you know that today won’t be the last time you’ll hear those things.
It’s happened before, and it will happen again.
When you finish reciting the story to Zayne, he holds you tighter. He doesn’t say “I’m sorry” or tell you it’s not your fault because he knows you know that. You exist as you are - there’s nothing to be apologetic about and there’s nothing you need to change.
Instead, he lets you cry, and speaks of times he’d attended conferences overseas and faced backlash against his features, his voice, and the way his demeanour had somehow been related to his roots.
Even when saving lives, when providing research he had done to enhance the lives of others, he’d been discriminated against.
You can’t help but cry for him, because even though he doesn’t say it, you know it hurts anyway. His unspoken words of ‘I know. I understand’ tug your heart and carve a hollow ache in your chest. You sob harder, and he sighs into your hair.
Beyond the shock and anger, there’s always going to be pain. You can’t change their reason for anger, and you don’t want to. You want to exist as you are, you want to provide the help you do - you shouldn’t have to be redirected whilst the rest of your colleagues continue on simply because someone else has decided to treat you differently.
The frustration of is unbearable. For a moment, you wonder if things will ever change.
You’re fast asleep by the time you get home. When Zayne places you in bed with a gentle kiss, he’s off into the living space and finding who the paramedics on scene were. He digs through his networks and it doesn’t take him long to find the civilian - a worthless creature taking up a bed at Akso.
He’s annoyed. As a doctor, there’s nothing he can do here. There are codes and laws to abide by that he’s sworn to follow.
He reflects, though, that using his connections as an established figure at Akso Hospital isn’t exactly the most ethical. It’s a misuse of his power. However, Zayne concludes that it’s already become a bit of a grey area with this particular patient - and so, he assigns the civilian to his most personal care.
It’s not like it’s the first time he’s done this, and he’s sure it won’t be the last.
a/n:
i wrote this because someone decided to be racist towards me yesterday, and decided to defend it rather than apologise. im still upset and it’s annoying me.
to any non-poc readers here, stick up for us when you see this happen. our voices really, really, are not enough to change peoples minds the way yours can. it’s horrible, but that’s how it is. help us change that.
and to my poc readers, like i said before, we deserve to exist as we are. we shouldn’t have to accept this, but we do. you are some of the strongest people i know. i see you.
on teasing zayne’s mii in tomodachi life.
“zayne, look! you’re so obsessed with me.”
he’s been watching you play the whole time - whilst zayne may seem like he’s entirely focused on one of the many files opened on his laptop, he’s been sneaking peaks at your switch and quickly reading whatever subtiles he can pick up (you’d been so sweet as to put your earphones in and not disturb him).
the screen is littered in pink; from petals to bubbles, his - arguably silly-looking - mii confesses he believes he’s fallen for you. it’s not the first time, nor the second, of course not. it’s the third time zayne’s witnessed his doppelgänger go through this.
he adjusts his glasses, trying to sound indifferent as he says, “is there really no way for you to make mii’s break up?”
he knows the answer, because he’s been scouring the internet for any indication that it’s possible. his search history shows a previous visit of just 1 hour ago.
there are only so many rejections even he can take.
you smirk and press yourself into his side. pinching his cheeks, you reply, “so you are jealous. my poor zaynie, are you feeling neglected?”
and zayne feels his ears burn at your attention. he doesn’t say anything, instead deciding quietly steaming away is the best case scenario. he refuses to be bait here!
“well, you don’t have to worry. the real ‘mii’—“ he smiles and you feel pride instantly— “would only ever choose you.”
“is that so?”
you hum, resting your head on his shoulder now. zayne relaxes against you, nestling his head atop yours. he feels his chest ache when you say:
“i’m pretty sure this is, at the very least anyway, the fourth lifetime in which i’ve chosen only you. i just know it.”
explore the peachieverse with me.
also following my last rb (which should be that dumbass ai account) i went thru n blocked a tonnn of users who i noticed liking the art or reblogging which is. dumb.
specifically the one where she used a different artists art and put it thru ai. very very very obvious ai. and i don’t feel comfortable having people like that interact with me (bc some of these were people whose users i recognise from interacting with me).
anyway. ai sucks and is the shittiest invention ever. read up on environmental racism, read up on how ai is directly causing that issue - bc people have said again and again earth itself is dying from it but u don’t care… so read up on the actual humans right now who are suffering. since you need proof or whatever.
read up on every shitty thing it’s doing. it is doing so so so much more harm than good, and that’s all it can ever do.
be human. or do you need ai to do that for you too?
don’t i taste just like candy?
your first makeout session with him mdni. suggestive+nsfw content. wc: max 1.5k each <3
content: afab!reader/mc. xavier - almost getting caught+dry humping potential if you squint, rafayel - semi-public kissing+mc using raf’s thigh, zayne - mc taking the lead+pathetic, scared (in an erotic way) zayne who’s eager to follow, sylus - pollenated kissing+references to dirty dreams, caleb - mc being angry=hate-kissing+swearing+basically dry humping
a/n: this took too long to complete. and i wrote too much for each li despite this being my first multihc so what did i expect!! anyway, i hope you all enjoy, pls lmk what u think! this may just be the first and last time i do this LMAO. did my best to stay in character but yk. tell me. like should i never write another li again NJNSJNS (pls..i have a snowapplemc fic in the works. pls)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ xavier
You’re not meant to be doing this right now, not here at least. People are still around - and not just any people, but your own coworkers and higher ups. This is so incredibly wrong, you know you shouldn’t be doing this, but falling into Xavier is something you’ve never been able to resist.
GOOD BOY (cont.)
summary: you knew sylus wore a collar for you. now you’re gonna show him exactly what it gets him… if he behaves.
tags: LADS, lads smut, sylus x fem!reader,
sub!sylus x dom!reader
content warnings: 18+ MDNI (NSFW explicit sexual content!!) BDSM themes, oral sex, penetrative sex, fingering, orgasm control, spit kink ??
word count: 2.3k of ~ pure, indulgent smut ~
note: someone is getting finger blasted. (AND IT’S NOT READER.) proceed accordingly.
technically a continuation of this barely SFW drabble, but can be read as a stand alone! thanks for reading <3
Sylus has always been a patient man.
But nothing tests that patience quite like you.
The first time you leaned in and kissed him, he felt like the entire world could burn down around him and he wouldn’t care. Since then, making out with you has become his favorite addiction. The way you melt into him, the little sounds you make when he licks into your mouth, how you grip his shirt like you’re afraid he’ll disappear,he can’t get enough.
Tonight is no different.
You’re straddling his lap on the couch in his private lounge, hands tangled in his silver hair while he kisses you deep and slow. His hands slide up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh as he pulls you closer. A low groan rumbles in his chest when you rock against him, unconsciously grinding down on the growing bulge in his pants.
“Fuck, kitten…” he murmurs against your lips, voice already rough. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
You whimper softly, kissing him harder, and for a moment it feels like you might finally be ready. His hands slip under your shirt, palms warm against your bare waist, thumbs stroking just beneath your ribs. He’s so hard it’s aching, straining painfully against his zipper, but he doesn’t rush you. He just keeps kissing you like he could do this forever.
Then you pull back suddenly, breathing heavily, eyes a little wide.
“Sylus… wait. I’m sorry, I-” You bite your lip, looking guilty.
He stills immediately.
His hands slide out from under your shirt and settle respectfully on your hips instead. Even though his cock is throbbing angrily between you, begging for friction, his expression softens.
“Hey,” he says gently, voice low and calm. “Don’t apologise. You never have to be sorry for that.”
You look down, cheeks flushed. “But you’re… I can feel how hard you are. I keep getting you worked up and then stopping-“
Sylus cuts you off by tilting your chin up so you meet his eyes. That usual smugness is gone, replaced by something warmer and tender.
“I don’t care if I stay hard for the rest of the night,” he says simply. “Or all week. Or all month. We go at your pace. Always.”
He leans in and presses a slow, sweet kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, much softer this time.
“You letting me kiss you like this already feels like winning the lottery, sweetie,” he murmurs against your mouth. “I can wait. As long as you need.”
Even as he says it, his cock twitches hard between your thighs, still painfully trapped and aching. He ignores it completely, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his chest instead.
You bury your face in his neck, relaxing into him. “You’re too good to me.”
Sylus lets out a quiet chuckle, though it sounds a little strained.
“Trust me, I’m not a saint. Right now I’m thinking about a lot of very filthy things I want to do to you,” he admits, voice dropping into a purr. “But I’d rather have you comfortable and happy than rush anything. This-” He squeezes your waist gently. “-is more than enough.”
You stay like that for a long time, you curled up on his lap, his arms securely around you while he presses occasional kisses to your hair and temple.
Later, after you’ve fallen asleep against his chest, Sylus finally lets out a slow, controlled breath.
He’s painfully hard, balls aching, cock leaking into his boxers… but he just holds you tighter, a small, satisfied smile on his lips.
Because even if it means blue balling himself every single time you make out, you’re worth every second of it.
His kitten is safe, comfortable, and slowly opening up to him
Sylus has always been a patient man.
But nothing tests that patience quite like you.
The first time you leaned in and kissed him, he felt like the entire world could burn down around him and he wouldn’t care. Since then, making out with you has become his favorite addiction. The way you melt into him, the little sounds you make when he licks into your mouth, how you grip his shirt like you’re afraid he’ll disappear,he can’t get enough.
Tonight is no different.
You’re straddling his lap on the couch in his private lounge, hands tangled in his silver hair while he kisses you deep and slow. His hands slide up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh as he pulls you closer. A low groan rumbles in his chest when you rock against him, unconsciously grinding down on the growing bulge in his pants.
“Fuck, kitten…” he murmurs against your lips, voice already rough. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
You whimper softly, kissing him harder, and for a moment it feels like you might finally be ready. His hands slip under your shirt, palms warm against your bare waist, thumbs stroking just beneath your ribs. He’s so hard it’s aching, straining painfully against his zipper, but he doesn’t rush you. He just keeps kissing you like he could do this forever.
Then you pull back suddenly, breathing heavily, eyes a little wide.
“Sylus… wait. I’m sorry, I-” You bite your lip, looking guilty.
He stills immediately.
His hands slide out from under your shirt and settle respectfully on your hips instead. Even though his cock is throbbing angrily between you, begging for friction, his expression softens.
“Hey,” he says gently, voice low and calm. “Don’t apologise. You never have to be sorry for that.”
You look down, cheeks flushed. “But you’re… I can feel how hard you are. I keep getting you worked up and then stopping-“
Sylus cuts you off by tilting your chin up so you meet his eyes. That usual smugness is gone, replaced by something warmer and tender.
“I don’t care if I stay hard for the rest of the night,” he says simply. “Or all week. Or all month. We go at your pace. Always.”
He leans in and presses a slow, sweet kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, much softer this time.
“You letting me kiss you like this already feels like winning the lottery, sweetie,” he murmurs against your mouth. “I can wait. As long as you need.”
Even as he says it, his cock twitches hard between your thighs, still painfully trapped and aching. He ignores it completely, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his chest instead.
You bury your face in his neck, relaxing into him. “You’re too good to me.”
Sylus lets out a quiet chuckle, though it sounds a little strained.
“Trust me, I’m not a saint. Right now I’m thinking about a lot of very filthy things I want to do to you,” he admits, voice dropping into a purr. “But I’d rather have you comfortable and happy than rush anything. This-” He squeezes your waist gently. “-is more than enough.”
You stay like that for a long time, you curled up on his lap, his arms securely around you while he presses occasional kisses to your hair and temple.
Later, after you’ve fallen asleep against his chest, Sylus finally lets out a slow, controlled breath.
He’s painfully hard, balls aching, cock leaking into his boxers… but he just holds you tighter, a small, satisfied smile on his lips.
Because even if it means blue balling himself every single time you make out, you’re worth every second of it.
His kitten is safe, comfortable, and slowly opening up to him
kissing zayne ’s scars.
you coax his sleeve up slowly, like you’re afraid to startle the moment. zayne doesn’t stop you, but his jaw tightens the way it always does—habit, defense, the old instinct to hide before anyone can look too closely. The fabric pools at his elbow. The scars map themselves in front of you—pale ridges, rough patches, stories he never tells.
You cradle his arm like it’s something fragile, even though it’s zayne—built of discipline and storms. Your thumbs stroke over the uneven skin, and you feel the way he tries not to pull back. You lean in before he can, pressing your lips to the first mark, soft as breath.
zayne exhales sharply.
You kiss the next, slower. And the next. Your mouth drags from one scar to another, a trail of warmth against all those years of cold. He watches you—eyes darker, quieter, almost startled. Like zayne can’t understand why you treat him like something worthy of gentleness. “Why do you…” His voice breaks off. He swallows. “They’re not pretty.” You hush him with another kiss to a deeper ridge near his wrist. “They’re yours.”
zayne ’s shoulders sag, the tension unspooling. You feel it—the surrender, the trust he never gives lightly. His free hand rises, hesitant, brushing your cheek as if he’s the one trying to steady himself. You kiss a long line that runs down his forearm, letting your lips linger. “I’m not trying to erase them,” you murmur against his skin. “Just the parts of you that think you should hide.”
zayne’s breath shivers. He pulls you gently into his arms, tucking your head beneath his chin. His heartbeat is steady, loud, vulnerable. “Stay like this,” he whispers. And you do, your kisses still burning softly on his scars.