Can you tell my watermark game has improved? :D okie maybe not that much but still!!
You can see my left ankle is still swollen😭😭not as bad cause my roommate was trying to help get some of it out earlier but don't ya love missing parts of your body 😂
Edit: yes, it's 1616 and I'm still in my dino pjs suck my non existent nuts 😤
Do not steal or repost my content, rebloggin is okie
AHHHH i just finished reading my granted wish and it was so amazing!!!! it literally made my night :)
i saw in the tags u were welcome to me requesting a spicy part 2 of bear and his chompers obsessed reader, so i’m here to say that i would loveeee a continuation of part 1!!! the way you wrote him was just so lovely and i can tell you have a lot more thoughts about him to share!!
(also your wishing theme is sooo adorable EEEK im actually very excited for your blog its so adorable!!)
hello hello hello! thank you for another wish! is this the part where i confess that i spent my entire day working on this? writing bear makes me so shy that i kept starting, stopping, erasing, trying again... in the end, i can only hope that this is to your liking! it took a direction i've never gone with bear before, and i hope he is as sweet as the first!
HORRORTALE!Bear/ChompersObsessed!Reader
Warnings for sexual content, sexual language, handjob, mouth... touching?, and just general thirsting over bear! 2k words because i love him! 18+ please!
This has absolutely woken something up in you.
(Bear doesn’t know who you think you’re fooling pretending otherwise.)
It’s only been a few days since you first got up close and personal, and you haven’t been able to drag your eyes anywhere but his face. He knows you aren’t looking him in the eye. It doesn’t upset him, no, no, he’s fully aware of your little… interest, and if he’s being honest, he’s pretty sure that having your hands in his mouth woke up something in him, too.
You just don’t know how to approach him about it, okay? You know that Bear can be a little sensitive about certain things, and you have no idea what you were thinking, putting your little probably-delicious hands all over him like that. What if he didn’t like it as much as you did? What if you read into it wrong and he was actually uncomfortable, but just wanted to make you happy? What if –
He can tell you’re getting into your own head about it, and it’s him taking pity on you when he says, “if you… if you want to do the… the mouth again, then… i don’t mind,” with an hopeful tilt to his head and a slow, shy wag of his tail.
You have no clue how he’s doing it. He’s so tall you hardly go up to his lowest rib, and so broad your hands don’t touch when you reach around his chest. He has the most frighteningly accurate darkvision you’ve ever been hunted by, blunted fingers that leave bruises against your hips when he grabs too eagerly, teeth so big he could take off your entire hand –
– and he’s being cute on purpose, and you wish it could say it wasn’t working, but his puppy-dog eye and pleading posture are really all the encouraging you need to believe he actually wants to do this, and you find yourself back in your bedroom and straddling his lap, the familiar position of a pillow under your rump with your hands already back on his face.
He opens his mouth far quicker than he had the last time, (when he had still been just a little shy himself,) and you waste no time in getting your thumbs hooked in his cheeks and flattened against his premolars, forgoing your previous caution. He’s got his legs half bent, your body pressed more to his pelvis than his femurs, and his palms rest on your thighs, relaxed. (You trust him to give you a smack if he wants you to stop – having a safeword is important, after all!)
Using your thumbs, you press downward; Bear responds positively, letting his jaw creak open wide enough for you to see his farthest teeth. Stars, if you had first thought he could just bite through your wrist, now you’re certain he could crunch through your entire humerus – you’ve never seen teeth so huge, and despite the cracks in a few, you have no doubt that not a single one would break. (You wonder, distantly, if those give him any trouble, but then decide better than to ask. In a moment so intimate, you would hate to bring up any bad thoughts.)
Satisfied with your visual inspection, you readjust, moving forward into tactile exploration. You rub your thumbs on his molars for a while before you use your index finger on one hand to feel over his premolars, pulling forward to loop around a lower canine. You pull gently, testing how much give he can offer you. The cuspid doesn’t wiggle so much as a fraction, but Bear moves downward so eagerly that you are momentarily stunned by the bloodmoon of his eye, blown huge and wavering.
What is he thinking, you wonder, when he looks at you like that? You open your mouth, intent on vocalizing this curiosity of yours, and then you jump when his hand shoots up, his palm cupping your jaw with a gentleness that seems impossible for him to possess. (You aren’t surprised, however – he has never given you a reason to expect anything else from him.) You are surprised, however, when a porcelain-bone thumb as big as two of your fingers dips against the corner of your mouth.
“can i…?” his tail thump, thump, thumps against the bed behind him, and you have no reason at all to deny him, especially considering that you’re already trying to get your other hand around an upper canine, and so you smile encouragingly and part your lips. The sound he makes when he ghosts over your incisors is an odd one. It’s not exactly bad – maybe a coo? – and then he murmurs a soft, awed, “so small,” and you give a slightly smothered snicker, your face so flushed that you’re certain he can feel the heat radiating from it.
Only small compared to HIM, you think, considering you can’t speak around the phalange currently stroking over your molars. You tug on his canines, back and forth, shaking him slowly side to side, and he makes a sound somewhere between a heavy sigh and a rumbling growl. It doesn’t seem to be a bad sound; his sockets are half lidded and he’s entirely still, aside from the digit running over your tongue, and so you give one more firm tug before before feeling out the back of his lower incisors.
His magic buzzes like poprocks against your fingers. You pull back to his canines at first, surprised, and then lean your body forward, elated, at the glow of denim blue behind his teeth. You knew he had one! He’s been holding out on you what the fuck!! You have to draw your face away from him to make this opinion known, swallowing thickly before you can speak, but it’s worth it to feel him laugh under your fingers, to feel his smile widen against your palms and he blushes the prettiest shade of weathered blue.
Unwilling to lose your opportunity – (and your boldness,) – you whisper-chant out an excited gimme, gimme, gimme, giving up your hold on his upper cuspid and reach deeper into his maw. Your first note is that his tongue is cold – you’re surprised by the chill that meets you when you flatten your fingers over it. (The same texture as all the other ecto he’s shown you before, smooth and a little slippery – he’s literally been robbing you, not showing you this sooner!)
Bear pats at your thigh with a desperation that makes you recoil. He doesn’t let you get very far – his hand, the one not glossy with your spit, that had been on your leg, grabs your hip with enough force that you hiss through your teeth. Unable to give him space completely, you settle for drawing your arms to your chest, already forming an apology that dies before it reaches your lips.
He doesn’t look upset.
His face wears an expression you haven’t seen before; his eyesockets are big and round, his grin odd and strained, and his breathing comes out rough and fast through his still-parted jaw. You would be worried for him, if he wasn’t also flushed a shade of blue so incredibly bright that you swear he’s literally glowing. (You’ve met that shade of blue quite a few times – and it is not a bad one.)
You ask if he’s okay after the silence presses on for a beat too long, and when he flickers his eyelight to your face, you add, coyly, that if he’d like to stop…
He does not.
There’s no way, you both come to the conclusion, for you to have your hands in his mouth while he’s on top of you. (Well, no way safely, as you are not willing to risk your fingers in some thrust-involved freak accident.) You love Bear, you do, but he’s…
Well, he gets carried away sometimes! And you don’t blame him for that, but you aren’t willing to give up your precious dexterity just to get some action with your boyfriend.
This is much safer! probably. You’ve stayed in your position, straddling his lap, your knees wide on either side of his pelvis, except your pillow has been relocated to somewhere off the side of the bed and his legs aren’t drawn up as close. It gives you a bit more space, which is necessary, now that his magic has gathered in the form of a pretty semi-translucent blue shaft that rests against your stomach.
One of your hands drifts down, smearing your fingers over the pearl of white beading at the rounded head before you squeeze from tip to base. His cock is cool to the touch, and, just as you had guessed, the same sort of texture as his tongue. (Is he similarly sensitive in his mouth, too? Was that why he was so worked up? You would need to ask – or, maybe, test that theory yourself.) His body jolts at your touch, his teeth parting again to huff out a cold breath, and you slip your fingers on your free hand between his incisors.
He looks like he might already be coming undone when you set some semblance of a rhythm; you press back against his furthest molars before drawing forward, the pad of your index stinging as you drag it over a cuspid. His hips jerk when you thumb another bead of pre-cum down his length, your hand moving quicker with the added wetness, and his hands, pressing into your hips, are most certainly leaving bruises as he fights to keep his jaw slack for you.
You’re making a mess in your underwear, but it’s hard to focus on your own want when Bear is making those sounds, pants broken by soft murmurs you can’t hope to understand, spoken like prayers under his breath, When you pair a firm tug on a canine with a slow, intentional stroke, he gives a ragged moan that vibrates the bones in your hands and makes your soul sing.
You circle your thumb around the head of his cock and his shoulders shake, your name bubbling from his throat as he ducks his skull lower, closer to you. The new perspective lets you see that pretty denim blue again, and with far more accuracy, you manage to catch the tip of his tongue between your fingers. You distract him from your catch by speeding up the hand between your legs, leaning forward to let him grind against your belly, and he sighs against your face, something close to gratitude in his next rasping whine.
You pull your hand from his mouth, and he allows you to bring your prize into proper view. broad and flat, smooth to the touch and the same pale blue as his shaft, perfectly sized to fit between his lower cuspids – oh, oh wow, oh he’s really cute, holy shit. Content with your new knowledge, you go back to thumbing at his premolars, lazily fishhooking him as he ruts into your palm. You have to keep your legs tight against his femurs and pelvis to keep your balance with both your hands busy, his rocking jerky and uncoordinated – but he is good, and he keeps his jaw slack, his teeth refusing to close around your prodding fingers.
You know he’s reached his peak when his eyelight vanishes completely, his entire body shuddering with a strangled growl as he spills over your hand. You tug downward on his premolars with your index and middle fingers, pulling him close enough to spatter kisses over his entire face, and use the added cum to give a few more lazy strokes. (He’s drooling, the poor thing, sticky blue at the corner of his mouth where your fingers are resting, and you pull your hand from his mouth and grin at him.)
You’ll need to take a shower, considering your thighs and belly are streaked in white, (and you will not just scrub down with a rag, thank you very much,) but for now, you let Bear close his undoubtedly achy jaw before he drags you out of his lap and into the bed to show you a little… appreciation ;o)
okay, so you’re definitely not the only one into the teeth thing.
Chapters: 1/12
Fandom: Suits (US TV 2011)
Rating: M
Relationships: Mike Ross/Harvey Specter
Summary: Part 2 of Hot Priest AU
Mike Ross has left the priesthood behind, but he hasn't quite figured out who he is without it. Harvey Specter has given him a home, a job, and every kind of safety he can buy, but doesn't always see the difference between safety and just another form of control.
A sequel to All the Angels and Saints, picking up after the collar comes off and the real work starts. Because to find yourself, you first have to get lost.
writing songfics and titling my fics after song lyrics because I have all these ideas for animations/animatics in my head I just can't draw them well enough
Finally figured out how I wanted to illustrate Leshy for this AU
Thank you comments from a couple posts ago, for your suggestions of "put the bug in a tree", it actually works really well with my attempts to put all the Gods in some form of "end of the world".
Here are some close ups of text and stuff
And typed out text, cause I know my handwriting is shit like my trees😅:
- Youngest of the 5 divine siblings, youngest of his pre-divinity egg clutch
- Discovered the green crown buried in the forest leaf litter very early
- smallest of the bound gods, only barely beaten out by Natinder
- Buried under the roots of Ygdrasyl, the World Tree
- As many roots as there are "worlds" (levels)
*I can't draw trees
- sees the twins as protegés, little tricksters-in-training
- Is fully aware of his influenced thoughts. They were far too orderly and planned to have originally been his. Went along with the plan though for the shits, giggles, and chaos he'd get to pull along the way.
Lucarios! So a few years ago, I saw some art by @luvianblue experimenting with Pokemon fur mutations and such, and since then I've really wanted to do that with Lucario. I finally managed to get myself to sit down and do it. It was really fun. c:
The first part focused more on the fur mutations, the second focused more on other stuff. The second round I was just gonna do double spikes for the last Lu, but then thought it would be cool to make a concept where some of that Mega design was seeping through overall in its normal form.
Here's Luvian's takes, btw!
💬 20 🔁 11776 ❤️ 18478 · Just been thinking about Pokemon, various pigmentation conditions/mutations, and the possibilities combining the t
