#b001

[interlockingpatches]

Poor Weasel is still not out of Content Label Review, so I designed two badges you can crochet to show your support in this difficult time (This is a link to the PDF, and documentation is here)

[healthkits-a]

It’s the smell that gets him, just as he rises from the tunnel and takes in a breath of fresh air. It’s sickly sweet, heavy in the air in a way that’s dangerous, and the most shocking thing is the fact he scents no rut completing it.

The fuck’s an omega doing out here alone?

Even as he thinks it, however, Joel drifts in their direction anyway.

He enters a dilapidated building a few feet away from the tunnel exit-- an old apartment complex, seems like. In the back of his mind he knows he has to get to Tess, has to deliver the ration cards from their new shipment of pills, but Joel breathes in deep and climbs stairs and stops only when the scent of the heat becomes cloying.

He shuts his eyes (God, the smell of it). His mouth waters (he’s too fucking old for this). In his jeans he’s gone hard just scenting it, that long-forgotten sense of ache starting to rise in his belly, and as much as logic dictates he leave and get the job done, Joel’s boots take him not downstairs, but towards one of the shut doors.

Fuck. The scent of heat trickles through the gap between the door and the floor. Jesus Christ.

And then he opens it.

It’s quite the sight that greets him: a man he’s never seen before, flushed in the face and the chest and the shoulders, legs spread and body trembling. His cock is hard, curved towards the belly, and Joel’s eyes zero in on the slick gushing out of him-- out from around his fist, what the fuck.

“Jesus.”

His own rut rises, spiced and hot as he grits his teeth. It’s sick, the wet sounds of this omega’s mess drooling around his hand, squishing out of his hole, and yet. And yet.

Joel’s mind flips off. His pack meets the floor. He comes forward, undoes his belt with clinking sounds that aren’t nearly as loud as the sound of this omega fucking himself-- which can’t be right, not when there’s an alpha right here-- and sinks to his knees on the floor with him.

“Take your fucking hand out.”

In the triangle formed by the opened fastenings of his jeans, Joel’s erection bulges in his underwear. One hand reaches out, gripping the omega’s hair to tilt his head back so he can glare at him.

“Alpha’s got you.”

[hockeylvr59]

For the song blurb would you be able to do down on my by Jeremih for Auston please and Thank you!

This is my first blurb...I’m not really good at being brief when it comes to creative writing. Hopefully, it’s everything you wanted. (Also side note...these requested songs are really dirty guys...you’re testing me here. ;) ) 

Drunk was not your thing and your boyfriend Auston was well aware of this. Still, the Leafs had finally gotten to the second round of the Stanley Cup Playoffs and you’d been dragged out to celebrate. Drinks had been placed into your hands all night and while you normally would try and maintain some dignity, tonight you’d taken them without question. 

Blood pumping hard through your veins, you dragged Auston to the dance floor, his arms wrapping tight around your waist. His body was pressed tightly to your back and his mouth was just above your ear whispering about how gorgeous you look and how happy he is that you came out with him. 

He was well on his way to drunk himself and as you rocked your hips to the beat you could feel him growing hard. Twisting in his arms, you grazed your nails down his chest with a smirk growing on your face. Teasing your fingers up under the front of his shirt you pulled him into a hot and heavy kiss before twirling back around and pressing your ass up against his crotch. 

Even over the music, you could hear his groan as you ground your ass against him, dipping low to the floor with the beat before rising back up. Dancing like this, it wasn’t surprising when Auston’s eyes went dark and his hands got more grabby than normal. 

It wasn’t long before it was Auston doing the dragging, yanking your hand hard and quickly pushing through the crowds. Laughing as you drunkenly realized what was happening, you waved and shrugged at Auston’s teammates as you passed them, their laughs following you as you exited the club. 

Outside, Auston ordered an uber and quickly pressed you against the building, his mouth meeting yours in a devouring kiss. “Fucking tease...I gotta get you drunk more often if this is what happens.” He murmured, the glint in his gaze telling you just what you were in for when he got you home. It was time for a private celebration to say the least and you had a feeling you weren’t going to be the only one going down. 

[serramurray-blog]

mission day 1425 time: just after 09:00 location: central control room      ( open )

She was already starting the calculations.

She didn’t know what else to do; even hours later, the message was still sinking in, maybe hadn’t even sunk in at all in some strange shade of shock she was unused to. But when she was stressed, Serra threw herself into her work, and this was no exception. She didn’t know what was going to happen, tonight. She didn’t even know what she wanted to happen, tonight, didn’t know which way she’d vote when it came down to it. But if the rest of the crew decided they needed to turn around and head home, she was going to have a lot of work on her plate and not much time in which to do it.

Her head was practically spinning with the calculations, her mind moving through the equations before she even had time to solve them or type them into the terminal in front of her. She’d barely taken the time to strap herself into the chair at her screen, the zero g tugging gently at her in all directions. She needed to calm down. To focus.

She was focused. Wasn’t she? Focused enough not to hear someone else come into the control room, or float up behind her. 

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