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oozey mess
@theartofmadeline
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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Kaledo Art
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Origami Around
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Sweet Seals For You, Always
ellievsbear
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
taylor price
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KIROKAZE
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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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@jorkinthepeenits
Vanessa (or Vane) | she/they | bi | alt
Hi!! I basically post whatever I want here!
Im not a professional writer by any means but it’s a hobby I’ve been practicing. I’m open to requests but I’m also a student so might need some patience💗
NO MINORS OR RACISTS OR HOMOPHOBES OR ZIOS
Writing | Saying shit
Playlists:
King Ghidorah
Shadow monster
Angel
Lindsey Graham really put the di in aortic dissection
Would Ghidorha love being called daddy
The first time you call him daddy he’d give you a weird look like he’s confused because he’d take it literally. You’d have to explain it to him but once he gets it he REALLY gets it and just wants you to keep calling him that
Big clits and fat cooches deserve love -signed your local hyena
fem!reader x shadow monster | 2k words
TW: smut, weird c*m, cervix penetration
Shadow monster playlist
“No.” He says it bluntly. There’s no room for argument, especially given what you’re asking of him.
“Ugh, that’s not fair!”, you whine.
“It’s not that I don’t want to, believe me I do,”he says as he paces away from you, trying to lose you in the darker corners of your room.
“I’m gonna turn the lights on!,” you teasingly threaten.
“Don’t even think abou-“
Flick. His once three dimensional body becomes a flat outline on the wall. He can’t talk back like this.
His image stretches to the switch, ready to turn it back off. “Just wait, please!,” you plead, sincerely this time. He pauses. “I know you’re holding back, but I can take it!”
He turns the switch off, his physical body appearing right before you, and embraces you in a kiss. It’s gentle at first, but then you brush your tongue against him, coaxing him to give you more. He rumbles, his long, inhuman tongue slowly being sucked into you, stretching your lips and twitching at the back of your throat. The texture of it slowly becomes rougher, signaling his control slipping.
He pulls away before it gets too intense, leaving the both of you feeling a bit dazed. “Every time I’m near you, it takes everything in me not to snap.” There’s a desperate honesty in his voice. “I don’t want it to scare you too much,” his claws hold you tight against him, as if you’ll bolt away at the slightest chance.
You giggle trying to reassure him, “So it’s ok if it scares me a little?”
He leans in to your ear. “More fun for me that way,” his voice is low but playful.
He plants slow kisses down your neck until he’s just above your collarbone. There, he bites down. You wince a bit at his sharp teeth lightly holding your flesh, but melt into him once he starts sucking, shamelessly grinding against him. Quiet moans escape you as he kneads your skin with his mouth. You can feel him getting harder against you. He groans and pulls away to lean on the edge of your bed.
“Come here and get on your knees,” he growls.
You don’t hesitate. You can’t see it, but you can feel it. Tracing your hands from the base to the swollen tip, his cock is already waiting with a big bead of precum. It throbs as you rub the underside.
“So, your dick can get even bigger than this?,” you ask with flirty curiosity. It’s already nearly the size of your forearm.
“Wanna find out?” He’s got a devious little smile, you can just hear it.
Your heart races as you go down on him, easing your way into taking his inches. You focus on his head at first, feeling the muscles of his thighs tense as you lick under his tip. He tosses his head back, groaning, loving the way your mouth stretches around him. You go deeper, desperately trying to take as much as possible. Your whimpers are choked out by the gushes of inky precum that pour down your throat. You only ever come up to swallow some of him.
You want so badly to reach the base, but he’s just so big. He wraps a hand around your neck, feeling his length bulging as it glides in and out your relaxed throat.
“Fuck…you take me so well,” his hand shifts to grab a fistful of hair. “But I know you can take more.”
He pushes you down the remainder of his shaft. Your jaw opens wider than you ever thought possible and you grip his legs tightly to try and brace yourself.
He face fucks you, making you gag on his monstrous cock, slobbering you with a mixture of spit and precum that drips down your chin. His soaked hips buck into you, and his body ripples as it cycles through textures and experiences. He’s smooth and coarse, furred and scaled, hot and cold, soft and spined.
Deep, rasped moans escape from him. His other hand grips onto the mattress, ripping through it. He’s gonna break soon. You can feel it. The bed starts to buckle, giving away as he grows larger, until the frame snaps in two. He makes a gutteral, animalistic sound as you push him closer to that edge, but his cock is getting too big for your mouth. He pulls you off of it, sensing your distress.
You thought that’d be it, that you failed to make him lose control, but he takes one look at your face, his black juices dripping from your mouth, and he explodes.
The edges of his shadowy outline blur into the surrounding darkness and the entire room goes pitch black. He’s no longer in front of you, and it’s eerily quiet. You can’t see a single thing except your own body, but you can feel you’re still next to your bed. You stand up and walk around, arms outstretched.
You bump around trying to orient yourself. It’s as if your bedroom was painted in vantablack, the objects still there, but casting no reflections. You hear something shifting, circling around. Your hands tremble uncontrollably.
Laughter rings in both your ears.
“Are you scared?” His voice reverberates through your body, sounding devilish, excited.
You try to swallow it but the fear is firmly lodged in your throat, “No.”
“Liar.”
He, if you can still even call him a he, swoops you up and pins you against a wall. You aren’t sure how high up you are considering your feet don’t touch the ground. Sharpness pokes at your body from all directions, as if he’s everywhere all at once. You flinch as your clothes are sliced off with surgical precision. You’re unsure if it’s fear or the cool air that makes you shiver. Maybe a bit of both.
What sounds like a wet, drooling maw opens up in front of you. A hot tongue, probably half the length of your body, licks from your belly to your neck.
His voice echos from all around you. “You’re terrified, and yet…,” something large glides between your sopping folds. “So, so ready for me”. He slips it into your slit, and snarls at how eagerly you suck him up. Is that just one finger?!
He curls it inside of you, pressing that sweet spot on the roof of your cunt that makes you squirm around him. You hear large globs of wetness spilling onto the floor. You aren’t sure if it’s coming from his cock or his…mouth. Either option is equally concerning.
He sets you back down to the ground, pulling his finger out of you and shifts across the room. Sticky noises cut through the silence as he tastes your slickness.
The room shakes. “So good,” he breathes heavily. His voice is uncanny, sounding like some twisted amalgamation of humanity, beast, and static.
You yelp when several more appendages, what feel like tendrils, wrap at your arms and legs, suspending you in the air. His breath steams between your legs, giving you goosebumps. Sharp teeth graze against your thighs as his jaw opens up around you. It feels like he could swallow you whole.
Your heart pounds in your ears. The noise is cut by your own squeal as his tongue jams into your tight pussy. It sinks in deeper with every push, pulsing and stretching your pussy against its wet but rough surface. Wiggling is met with the tendrils firming their grip, keeping you open to him.
His tongue traces around your cervix, as if searching for a way past it. When it finds no entrance, it simply insists upon making one, pushing against it, demanding to be let in. The pressure is too intense. You tense up around his tongue and he growls, feeling a conflicting mix of frustration that you’re squeezing him out but also excitement at how tight you’ll be to drain him dry.
His tongue retaliates inside you, pushing back against your walls, forcing them to stay open. The friction is nearly enough to make you come, but you need more, and as if he could read your mind, something starts to lap at your clit.
You huff. “I-is that…?”
He responds with a muffled affirmation.
A second tongue… he gave himself a second tongue. He could probably give you more if you asked him to. Hell, he could probably change into anything he wanted. Fear becomes a fleeting memory as your breaths turn sharper. He sends you climbing until you’re teetering on the edge of your orgasm.
“Fuck!” You’re so close.
He draws out of you.
“No! Asshole!,” you yell, out of breath.
He laughs and catches your fall in one hand as the tendrils let you go, then slams you onto the nearest piece of stable furniture, that being your desk. His hand cushions your body while his dick presses against your tight hole.
“Aww, sorry baby was that too mean of me?,” he mocks.
You clamp your legs shut like a vice. “Go fuck yourself,” you sulk, annoyed at his denial.
“Hmmm, good idea. I’ll save it for later.” It takes him next to no effort to spread your thighs apart even with all your force.
You suck in a breath as your walls stretch around the widest part of his tip. You clench around it, drawing it in deeper, until the head is fully inside. The shaft slides in quicker, making your eyes flutter as it pushes you apart. By the time he bottoms out, you feel like it’s a miracle you haven’t been split in half.
His dick twitches as he speaks, “I don’t like this thing at the back of you.”
“M-my cervix?”
“It’s keeping me from what I want,” he says frustrated.
Before you can protest, he drives one full thrust into you, knocking the wind out of you and sending objects clattering to the ground. Satisfied with the look on your face, he does it over and over again, fucking you dumb and senseless. The initial pained whimpers slowly melt into pleas for “harder” and “deeper” as you learn to take his now massive dick.
“You’re too easy,” he groans, gripping your thighs tighter as he abuses your poor cunt.
Like the bed, the desk too starts to grow less stable, rattling until it collapses. You thought he’d be mad, but his grunt sounds more like amusement than anger. “What was it that you said about me fucking myself?”
Shit. Should’ve known to keep your mouth shut.
He lifts you off the desk and tosses you up in the air, flipping you over face down and catches you in his hand. It wraps all the way around your waist, holding you above the ground.
You brace, knowing what’s coming, as he guides you down the length of his cock like a little fleshlight. This angle hits every nerve inside you. Jagged whimpers crack out of you and every muscle contracts, letting you feel every throb and ridge of his cock.
He fucks you…or rather fucks into you. He tries to go slow but his dick can’t fucking take it anymore. He slams you onto his length like a battering ram, willing your cervix to open up for him so he can go deeper. Your ass bounces for him on each impact, getting coated more and more in the sticky precum that leaks out of you onto his base.
Tears stream down your face as his cock slides in and out of you, bulging the soft flesh of your belly. His grip on you tightens and he growls, loving the way he feels inside his fuck toy.
The pace grows uneven. The head of his cock swells, creating even more friction inside you that has you arching you back in his hand. You’re close again and he can tell. He doesn’t hold back this time, driving in powerful thrusts that make your entire body tremble, or maybe that’s the feeling of the room shaking again. He makes guttural, otherworldly moans that sound close to you, as if he’s keeled over from the pleasure.
You shatter all around him. Your soft, squishy walls hold him tight inside you, while your now relaxed cervix dilates for him, practically begging to be filled. He can’t resist the invitation.
He slams what you assume is his other hand to the wall, supporting himself. His head spears inside your womb and spews cum with so much force, it makes you cramp. Every pump that rises up his shaft feels like pure ecstasy, extending your orgasm. He thrusts a few times as he oozes, ensuring that it gets in deep, but the amount is overwhelming. Gallons spill out of you, dripping down your dangling legs and onto the floor.
He huffs, “Good…cocksleeve,” before he slumps over onto the floor, with you still being held on his cock. “Which hole…should I fill next?”
Genuine question for the furry community: am I a furry or am I just a slut? I’ve never felt an urge to wear a fursuit or have a fursona but when I looked online it seems like the criteria is just to have an interest in anthropomorphic animals. Here’s the thing tho what does that even mean? Bc I’m definitely interested in fucking the anthropomorphic animal but maybe that just makes me a whore idk
AI datacenters is in an of itself already a bad idea, but to put them in suburban areas where every resident has to deal with what sounds like a 5000 pound stove fan being on constantly is just evil. Like the sensory overload cannot be good for your health
guardian angel isn’t used to dirty talk
TW: smut, religious guilt
@strangergraphics
That. That word.
When he heard it slip from your lips the first time, he nearly snapped out of his own delusion and stopped fucking you right then and there. God! He shouldn’t even be doing this at all. But the sweet, slick sound of your pussy devouring his cock lulled his worries and put him right back in his trance.
Then it happened again.
He panics this time, pulling out of you, dick glistening from all your previous orgasms. You stare up at him, dumb and doe-eyed, until you realize what set him off. A sneaky little smile creeps up your face. You open your mouth about to say it again, but he quickly pinches your lips shut.
“Shhhhh!” His white feathers ruffle and his eyes dart up, scared that heaven might be watching the blasphemy unfolding here.
You wrestle his hand away and yell it out in an over the top pornstar voice, “Mmm daddy!”
He shuffles to the edge of the bed, looking like he’s about to have a heart attack. He’s supposed to be your guardian, your protector, not some sick pervert. Guilt eats away at him, so why is his dick even harder than before?
You push him further, this time cupping your breasts together and moaning it out for him as you brush your nipples. He pounces over top of you, wings blocking your periphery, firmly wrapping a hand over your mouth. The swollen, red head of his cock sits just outside your entrance.
“Th-this is a…a sin,” he sounds conflicted.
You scoot your hips closer to him, your entrance opening up to take an inch. He grunts, tightening his hand around your mouth, but slowly sinks another inch into you. You nod your head, inviting him to give you more, wanting to absolve him. By the time he bottoms out, his hand has moved from your mouth to lightly gripping your neck.
As his anxiety melts away, his thrusts pick up in pace, until he was fucking you just as hard as before. You whimper out, calling him daddy again. He doesn’t stop this time, instead the word is met with a groan and a pump of precum into your pussy. He hated how much it thrilled him.
“Fuck…please say it again.” There’s so much desperation in his voice, you just have to oblige.
He grips your throat, feeling the vibrations as you moan it out. Arousal and rebellion overwhelm his guilt and he decides he wants more out of you. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and drills deep into you. The stretch and friction makes all your words come out fractured and broken.
“Da-ddy,” you cry out.
“Yes, don’t you dare fucking stop,” he groans hungrily.
Tears stream from your face as you try to stutter more out. God, he likes this sin too much. His pace becomes disjointed. He grips your hips, slamming them down his length before he finally shatters. He knocks his head back as broken moans escape him. Hot cum rises up from his shaft and forcefully pumps into you, coating every wall. He thrusts a few more times, draining every last drop from him, until it overflows from you.
Clarity washes over him, and with it returned the guilt.
“Don’t worry daddy,” you say with a wink. “I’ll help you hide the evidence.” You slide off his dick with a sticky noise and move over to suck it, cleaning him off. He only lets you do it for a minute before pulling away, scared that he’ll be tempted to fuck you again.
He returns to heaven that night, his pokerface the spitting image of piousness, but he can’t stop that taboo memory from flashing in his mind. He fights the way his lip curls into a smirk, and squirms underneath his robes, trying to stop the blood rushing to his cock. God, it’s only a matter of time before he falls for this.
camping rn call that paleolarping
ghidorah wagging his tail everytime the human praises him ughhh
Stopppp that’s so cute
Would Ghidorah enjoy belly rubs
Yes but he gets ticklish
Why summer so pitiful
Bc they tried to ship her away
Bruh my cat is very spicy at the vet visit now, she needs more then like three people to hold her down. Why? She wasn’t like this before. What happened.
As they get older they can just get spicier especially if they already weren’t super into the vet before
if human!reader cooked some meals for ghidorah, i wonder what they would like... I feel like they would like when reader bakes... or when reader makes stew or maybe im just hungry lol
Ugh now I want cookies and stew
Oh my god it’s so fucking hot rn
Dude ikkk my place has no ac im dying
Ass, tits, thighs or belly for Ghidorah
Like what does each head like?
Oooooh love this question
Middle head has some refined taste. He’s into thighs, legs, belly
Left thinks personality is more important
Right is into tits and ass BUT also your smile
all the things he will and won’t come clean about
fem!reader x shadow monster | technically a prequel to this
TW: smut, stalking, weird c*m, cnc, masturbation, some light mentions of cucking, jealousy, hurting others
Your shadow can’t wait to pour out his heart to you. He’s been watching you for so, so long, and he’ll keep watching, waiting for the right moment to reveal himself to you. Oh, the things he’ll tell you.
Like how for the past few weeks, he’s been messing with you, purposefully not mirroring your movements. Every time you look back at him, he goes back to being a regular shadow, all to get just one more glance of you. He loves the way that cute surprised look on your face turns to frustration when you can’t catch him in the act.
And he’ll finally tell you where he hid those cute lacy panties you bought. You know, the ones you thought you looked so nice in? He can’t wait to see the blush on your face when he hands them back to you, completely soaked in blackness. He doesn’t feel a hint of remorse over what he did to them.
He imagines leaning in and whispering the story in your ear, and how wet you’ll get as he recounts it. About how he caught a glimpse of them underneath your skirt on a sunny day where his imprint traveled right beneath you. About how he couldn’t help himself. That when you fell asleep that night, he took them from the laundry basket and stood over your bed. It smelled so fucking good, you smelled so fucking good.
He’ll tell you how he breathed them in until the ache in his dick was unbearable. Until he couldn’t help but wrap it around his cock and jerk off into them. He fucked his hand so hard that night, wishing it was your dripping pussy he was pumping into instead. He did it right over your peaceful, sleeping face, part of him hoping you’d wake up so he could give you a present. The thought of him waking you up to a facial, to his hot inky cum painting your face, gets him hard as he thinks about it.
‘Fuck, she’d look so good in black,” he thinks to himself.
But there are things he won’t dare to mention. Like how he stole something else, one of your favorite tops that went missing last year. He won’t tell you how he climbed into your unmade bed while you were out and dragged himself through your sheets, clutching them, smelling them. He won’t tell you about the heartbroken moans that cracked through him as he got drunk of your scent. ‘You were right here,’ he’d think to himself. ‘Right fucking here.’
He won’t tell you how he grinded face down into your mattress. How he used your top as a towel to keep his mess contained, hiding the fact he was there. How every desperate whimper was a prayer for you. “Mine, mine,” he’d groan into your pillow as his pitch black cum soaked your blouse, the original color barely recognizable at this point.
He won’t tell you about all the times he’s watched you naked. The shower, changing, in bed touching yourself, you name it. He’s learned exactly what he needs to do to have you moaning and coming for him. But, he’s too ashamed to tell you that he sometimes wants to be selfish and just burst out of his flat existence and use you like a little cocksleeve regardless of your fear. He’s constantly fighting the urge to fuck you dumb and senseless, until those terrified screams turned to desperate pleas for more inches of cock.
But the worst of all, the secret he’ll take to his grave, is what he’s done to all the boys you’ve brought home. He’s hated them all. Hated the way those unappreciative bastards used you up, dimmed your light. They’d get their rocks off and leave you high and dry, making you feel like you weren’t good enough.
He done so many things to make their lives hell. There’s no explaining the slashed tires, keeping them from driving over to you. Or the crushed phone screens when you sent them a nude. No, no. Your perfect body should only belong to someone who knows you. Every night they made you cry, he hatched up some new form of payback for them.
Some nights too, he’d pay them a personal visit, acting like some sleep paralysis demon haunting their waking nightmares. He had too much fun flickering the lights, rattling their beds, and chasing after them in dark hallways with loud footsteps. He’d lurk in the dark corners of their bedrooms, pretending to speak in tongues. It got so bad some of them had priests over to cleanse the house. He gets so giddy when he thinks back on those memories, but perhaps those things are better left unsaid.