Why are there so many writers that say "age of consent in your region"
Because in South Africa, that's 12.
I believe Japan is 13?
But yeah..... nope.
If you want to read my shit be over 18, because I am over 18. Simple.
I'm not even gonna fix the grammar on that... hung over me has fun ideas.
And yes, hung over me did start writing and yes. Even I can't read it. Being dyslexic and drunk doesn't make for the best ease of reading.
May or may not be hung over thinking about a feline könig.....
Fuck it.
Km gonna write it.
Don't mic alcohol kids, never drink clear liquor, then drink after cloudy. Don't dink more than one kind of alcohol. Stick to what you started with, with water between.
Prob the only reason I'm conscious today.
One of the things I will always love The Amazing Spider-Man for is the movie's depiction of Flash.
Don't get me wrong, the other renditions have thier merit but consider:
When Peter just got his power, just started feeling powerfully, just became stereotypically attractive, just got his eyes fixed, just starting to get his life together, just got everything he could wish for in his analytical mind. Ben dies.
He loses another Father, no matter how inconsequential, no matter how hard he tried to do something, he missed it.
Then the whole Flash and Peter fight over 'blonde hottie' and yes cliché but,
Peter has flash by the collar, up off his feet, and is so fucking angry. At himself, at loosing, at the death, and at that greedy money hungry fighting boss but Flash says one thing.
Something along those lines,
1- This makes Flash a complex character. Yes, he is now "the abuser becoming the abused." but it's also the complete opposite for Peter, who becomes "the abused become the abuser" and as horrid and morbid as that alone is (and as much of it is bull) it makes Flash a real fleshed out character. He isn't cracking knuckles, making bruises, drawing blood, or being harmful and angry because it's fun. It makes him feel better. It probably made the people who raised him feel better.
2- In some way or another, Flash understands pain. Whether the pain he causes or the pain of grief. And the way he copes, or uses that fear, that grief, that anger, that useless feeling of 'why didn't I stop it?' By creating more pain he can control. So Flash is sympathetic. He is giving Peter the release he needed.
3- He could have been taught this reaction. Maybe it's generational. So he sees his overworked and sad parent hurt him, or his environment and somewhere somehow it helped Flash when he did it. Maybe it's from something else, but he is creating and / or continuing a cycle of abuse.
4- [it isn't that deep, and Flash is just Sadistic and likes seeing pain.] Point still stands, but you know.
And all it took was one line.
I don't know how this happened....
But I'm forever grateful <3
When I'm done with the K-9 unit reader x various COD men I might post each x reader separately as most of them are around 700 ish words. This is more do I can organize the shit or post it to my AO3 account.
Just for those who now follow me and will see the spam post of it.
《Previous ▪︎•°|°•▪︎ Masterlist ▪︎•°|°•▪︎ Next (not yet complete)》
</T|W> slight dub-con or no explicitly stated consent, senting, a/b/o style rut, edging, riding, multiple rounds, depiction of slight injuries, and thier healing.
</C|W> Smutt this time :p, bottom oc werewolf, top amab reader,
Lucas had come in with a dislocated shoulder and some nasty scrapes. Come to think of it, a lot of the wolves had been showing up with these kind of scuff marks.
You didn't really ask. Just patched them up, but if someone would know and wouldn't care that, it's you asking. It would be Lucas.
As you lifted his wrist, warned him of the pain, with a flat palm against his collar bone just over the dislocated socket. A quick shove and slight twist of his wrist had the joint back in place if a little sore.
His breath hitches with the movement, and he holds onto the coat you use with treating wounds. His hands cramping as he grips onto the stained fabric, holding you there to ride out the pain with his forehead resting gently on your sternim. The puffing breaths shifted the loose shirt under him while you ready the disinfectant over his shoulder.
That's another thing the wolves have taken to. Touch.
Any of the 'pack' as you call them would negate any distance and practically beg you for some form of skin contact. You weren't sure why, but you knew that's how familial relationships are stabilized.
Lucas was the only one to hold on. Or hold you there. Every other wolf would just brush up against you and then let you step back.
"You know."
He looked up at you, his chin resting on your sternum. Eyes looking a little to dilated for the adrenaline drop he should be in now.
"I've seen your groupies more often this week."
"Sorry." His arms wind tighter round ypur waist. Not even pouting about the name-calling. "Lots of the pups are going through the 'fight for my mate' phase of growing up."
"Thought that was just a wives tail."
"Nope very real."
"And they need some big strong Alpha to break it up?"
This odd rumble vibrates against your chest. It's almost enough to distract you from patching his spine up.
"I'm more to stop the ones that go past just play fighting."
"I need to clean your neck. And well, the other cuts." You pause when those same dark eyes flicker up to you. Clearly, you weren't clear enough.
"You need to move, so I can help you."
"Help sounds nice."
"Yes so move"
Lucas only shuffles back, unlooping his arms but still holding on to you. Forcing you to kneel down so you could actually clean and tape the wounds he came here for.
Those ink filled eyes still stare as you start on the cuts along his ribs and chest. Hardly flinching when the antiseptic cuts through the dried blood, and you have to push against him to stop the renewed bleeding. His pupils almost seem blown, and the scientist in you wonders if this fight for a mate actually releases a hormorn that keeps his eyes like that.
It's almost like he's looking at the prize of the fights that's been happening. Well, you haven't seen any of the disputes, displays, whatever they really are. So you can speculate their use.
"All done," with a pat to his chest, to pull his attention back from the dazed look he has. "Anything else? Or are there more."
"I don't know. I don't think you're done."
"What? Did I miss anything?"
"Yeah,"
Lucas smirks, leaning back on his hands. Shirt right there at the end of the table, but he refuses to put it on.
"I need a kiss to make it better"
Red flushes all through your neck and up your ears, eyes going wide. This was just a joke right?
But you leaned down, hovering just a breath from him. It was almost serene. Just standing there in the cold open room, this thick emotion hanging off the air between you and him.
Lucas was the one to break the quiet moment.
The split skin of his lip was near sharp as he kissed you, just a soft press at first. But then you lean up against him. Feeling every breath he took with the rise or fall of his chest against yours. His skin radiating heat like a furnace.
Those ruff hands gliding up, under your work coat to trace your jaw and settle along your neck. That same rumbling noise vibrating agaisnt you as he growls.
Some wolves can growl as a sign of playfulness, a fake growl for lack of a better term. It's more a tease or verbal invite to play. And he keeps growling as he pulls you impossibly closer. Arching up into you, just to grumble louder.
The old and ratty matris you use for the more hurt patients, bending under your weight. Lucas opens his eyes to stare at you with a golden ring, elipsing lust blown pupils. Fangs nip ever so softly over your lips and toungs, with soothing kisses placed after the harder nicks.
Must be the full moon looming to rise at the end of the week, amoslt two days of hyper wolves apparently now fighting to prove their love.
As if sensing your distraction, Lucas hauls you up, dropping you beneath him. Those ruff hands are still tracing any link to skin it can find along any gap between your waist and shirt. Happily feeling over the scars he watched you patch up. Panting down your throat between taking your breath away with each searing kiss.
Straddling your thighs, striping your jacket, and shirt with rushed movements. Leading your own hands to his skin, begging in all but words for you to touch. Careful of the buises, you hear those playful growls start up. Now you can feel it vibrate in his chest against yours.
The air around you in this old place warming with each brush of hands, or roll of hips. It's burning this feeling of lust deeper into your soul than you thought would still be possible.
He's careful of the claws dawning his fingers when tracing the skin under your belt. Easily catching on the fabric and forcing you to detangle him from it.
When you've both shed the last layers, you start to realize why his pack mates jokingly call him Alpha.
All it takes is one slip of your fingers over his waist, against his spine, and he's practically presenting for you. Back dropping down so he could roll his ass back into your hands.
"Please."
Lucas laps his ruff tongue over your throat. Chasing the beating pulse thundering away under it, a thick fur scratching at your thighs.
Seems he's partially shifted. Ears replaced by his canine form, tail flopping over your knuckles as you need the muscle under it. But..
There was this. Fairy tail, of sorts.
It was some girl who would brag about her partners in bed. But if what she says is true.
"Hmm, that feels good."
Bingo.
"You're very good at this."
His tail does wag when complemented. Good to know.
It's just the simple sway the end, but maybe.
There's a simple lubricant in the top draw, and an audible thumping follows your breach of him. It's almost distracting, but none the less adorable.
With your dick now fucking up into him, rendering his mind completely blank besides those breathless little noises that he can't seem to keep in.
All it takes is him rolling his hips back into you for it to finally gain a rhythm. And for you to say,
"Fuck. You feel amazing."
The sudden moan and long whimper had almost worried you, and yet he clamped up like a vice. His dick jumping in time with his heart rate so, so close.
One hand on his throat, and the other rubbing along the base of his tail, you methodically take him apart. Finding every spot that makes his gasp, every angle that makes his back draw tight or mouth hang open, every place to scratch raised red marks, suck darling bruises. All of it.
You keep him lost in the pleasure but never enough to cum, even when hes close its easy to pull at his hair, scratch at his hips, to keep him feeling good. But not enough.
Right when you know you have him on the edge, right when you know he's desperate enough to listen.
"Good boy"
Lucas practically locks up. His orgasm rushed through him without any warning, his own cum dripping past his jaw and neck. Breath ragged, although he can't be to worn out.
As his tail still thumps against the inside of your thigh. Eyes practically glazed over before he started moving again.
"Just like that." You comand into his ear, watching it flick with the ghost of your breath against it, "good boy~"
Open_<p1nn3dm3ss4g3.exe>....
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Continue_to_post?>>>......
... 〔 Yes/No 〕 ...
Answer_accepted...
《LvL: [19] | 》DoB: [21/01/2005]
《Gender: [T Male] | 》Residence: [RSA]
All communications are 【(open)】, Axar is ready to help!
</「more_contact_options.link」>
For a disability I do not have, unless, with a reputable source, explaining said disability in detail. Includes both mental and physical disabilities
Strictly female reader. I will write reader or characters afab but not directly female. Gender neutral or fem looking are complete fine.
Any rape or non-con scene. I will write cnc and tag it as such, but not actaul non-con
Copraphillia, urophillia, scat, or the like. Blood, however, is ok. As well as light piss kinks that are not with the previously stated things.
Pedophilia (MAPS don't exist. Fuck off), Zoophillia, Sexual age/pet regression, infantalism, ABDL and such. Nothing sexual with any kind of underdeveloped mental or cognizant abilities.
○Note: This list can change or be added to○
If you are unsure, feel free to ask. I will warn you that I can be a smart ass or sound rude, but that is not my intent. It is just how I was raised.
○Note that all are tagged on this post for ease of filtering○
#not_writing [all none writing posts]
#personal_notes [just thoughts or ideas]
#authors_notes [related to writing posts]
#minimuim.exe [the smaller (under a paragraph) writing posts]
#wip.txt [uncompleted, but puplished works]
#re_blog.exe [rebloged post from other blogs]
#anti_AI.doc [fuck Ai and all its scummy doings]
</Old_man_[Prince]> who_wears_glasses_×_male_reader_
</Avian_[Gaz]> sub_[Avian_Gaz]_x_Gender.Not.Stated_top_Reader
</[Part:1]> Includes:_[Price]_[Soap]_[Ghost]_[König]_[Alejandro]_×_Reader_
</[Part:2]> Includes:_[Rudy]_[Gaz]_[uncompleted_Keegan]_[to_be_added]_×_Reader_
</[Part:1]> Dragon_[Price]_&_TF_141_×_Succubus_Reader_
</[Part:2]> Wraith_[Ghost]_×_Werewolf_[Soap]_×_Reader_
</[First_thought:_will_be_intro]>
</[Part:2]> more_thorough_Introduction_
</[Part:3]> Alpha_werewolf_x_male_reader_
</[Uncompleted]> Vampire_monarch_×_reader_
-Old man price with glasses x male reader ● | ♡
</Poly_[Lovers]_Group.Chat> Tattoed_Top_×_Soft_Boy_Switch_×_Bottom_GN_Reader_
Possessiveness doesn’t always have to be a rough touch to show ownership. It can be light and subtle as ever; a hand on the lower back, a lax arm around the waist, being so familiar with their body like being familiar with their coffee order - splash of milk no sugar- fingers resting just below the spot where you know their birth marks, scars or tattoos lay, gently brushing over clothed skin carefully avoiding the spots where you know they’re ticklish and watching the way they lean into your embrace with a smile on their face.
Possessiveness doesn’t always have to be crashing your lips onto theirs in front of someone who is trying to flirt with them. It can be an indirect kiss- taking a drag from their cigarette, and tasting the sickly sweet lip balm they always wear on the tobacco stick - the cigarette smoothly shifting from their fingers onto yours like this little habit of yours had been ingrained into their bones, or drinking from their drinks - specifically from the one a stranger had bought for them, the sudden appearance of your hand onto their beer glass barley phasing them as they continue on with the conversation they are having with the stranger- your lips resting just on the place where theirs have been, spots still wet from when they had taken a sip, while flashing a smile at the strangers over the rim , you and the strangers now both aware that you’re the only who knows how those lips feel.
Possessiveness doesn’t always have to be growling “mine” into their ear. It can be something simple as causally mentioning their name in conversations with family and friends, so much so even strangers know them through the stories you’ve told them, maybe even adding a little my in front of their name, not so much in a possessive tone but rather with a certain familiarity and fondness when talking about the socks they tend to leave scattered around the apartment or using the endearment when talking to your significant other, looking at their glittery eyes and big smile as you hand them a gift they’ve wanted for a long time, because of course you know what to get for your love, right?
All I can imagine is a reader who lives in a continent full of monsters.
One of the only humans there, or well. Human adjacent.
You make some of your money by being a health care worker for the monsters here, not a healer per say but the closest thing to one any of them can get. You're the go-to for cuts, scrapes, bruises, and dislocated limbs. Even for the more, not human side of the residents.
There's nowhere else to go. It's you or deal with it alone.
You learn their stories, or their scars, even the trauma they have to carry. Like the deep forest Naga, whose flares dull when the clouds start to gather. Or the lycanthop who couwers at any loud sound. You are the only one the youkai trusted to help.
That's not the only way you make your money to keep the medical office stocked.
Many of the creatures or monsters can "shed" certain parts. Like the vampire's teeth, they shed those fangs neat yearly, or the avians, the false angles, who mault. But other times, when things like corpses or amputations are a must to hold. You can use those parts, too.
What did those human rulers who exiled you expect?
That a mortician would just be happy to sit down and watch the people around them fumble with basic injuries and watch those small little cuts fester and rot, let alone the major injuries that come about.
You had a fucking medical and veterinary doctorate so you where going to use it.
If that means dismantling the dead or selling off the things you don't keep for study or as trinkets to keep that medical practice open?
Then gladly.
you have to MANUALLY opt out of it as well.
if you’ve already opted out of showing up in google searches, it’s preselected for you. if you don’t have the option available, update your app or close your browser/refresh a few times. important to note you also have to opt out for each blog you own separately, so if you’d like to prevent AI scraping your blog i’d really recommend taking the time to opt out. (source)
"Just, please... please. I'll beg."
Poly_TF_141 x sex-demon_reader Prt:2
Read part 1 here 》 ....
A_N:... Continuation of the previous! This is part two, and to do with Werewolf Soap going into 'heat' but not the abo kinda heat. Soo, expect more wolf like behavior, and again, the same warnings apply.
CW.|.TW:... Sexual content. Intended male reader. Bottom but Dom reader. Polly-cule TF 141. Religious depictions of demons. Allusion to Reader having an Eating Disorder and the recovery there of. Ghost x Soap x Reader
It had taken some time and effort, but finally, finally, you were OK with the casual emotion that the team shared with one another.
Being a permanent member of the team seemed to help. You even put on weight in the recent months that you've actually fed semi regularly, although it wasn't anywhere near what you should be getting but it was miles better then the months you used to starve through.
Price made sure that any time between missions, there was some form of sexual intention in his team.
Not the hardest thing when all of them have been intemit with each other for years before you joined in with the physical side of things. And Price let you have your fill of him whenever he saw that drop in you again.
But someone else came knocking that night.
A blushing Soap who was leaning heavily on your door frame, looking almost shy for his bulkier body. He hardly says anything as you beckon him in. Eyes still down cast even as he leaves the door ajar and is sitting all but an inch away from you.
"I wan'ed te ask ya if yeh would..." he starts, blush spreading down his neck. "Can ye. I just wanted.."
That's when you felt a pulse of a sweeter emotion, a spiking arousal that was tainted with a primal urge. This absolute need for something so deeply sexual it was practically making your mouth water.
"Your lycanthopic urge?" You question,
"Aye, my heat kinda snuck up on me." He answers with a curt nod. Still not looking at you.
Your fingers find his chin, easily lifting his stubble edged jaw, so he was nose to nose with you.
Soap had dilated pupils, only elipsed by this thin sliver of his irus. Those needs already making his mind want to lean in and chase those lips of yours. Instead, he flicks his eyes back up, that emotion growing thicker, sweeter, with the movement.
"Just please..." he half begs, already so desperate. "Please. I'll beg. I'll go away if ye don't wanna, but I just.."
"Ok, I will lend you help."
You've hardly gotten the sentence out before Soap jumps you. Stealing breathless kiss after breathless kiss.
Guiding your hands to his skin, slipping them under his clothes, and soaking in the warmth with your skin on his. He gets so touch starved, so sensitive to it, when he's like this.
You near fucking his throat with a long split toungue isn't helping him think any more coherently. He tried to ignore the gentle tangle of your hands as you started getting him undressed. Body more demonic with the crackling desires streaming from Johnny's need for intimacy.
"You still got your mind in one peace there lad?"
A deep rumble follows from the door, Ghost standing there with his head tilted. Commenting, "Dumb Mutt just got one thing on his mind."
"You came to watch or pass along something or another."
"Oh, I wanna watch."
Simon crosses the distance from the door to your bed in two quick strides, fingers gliding in the panting Soap's hair. Pulling him back by the grip he has on the werewolf's Mohawk.
"Mainly to see this one don't hurt ya, hun. But to see if yah would need help."
Johnny rolls his hips against your thigh, toungue lulling out past his fangs and bruised lips. Eyes unfocused as he tries to keep his body still while miserably failing.
"Can get a bit one tracked and forget who's helpen 'em. And Price warned me yah got a habit of ignoring yourself."
"Acceptable. Just help me strip him before he cums in his pants."
"Alright hun."
You end up kneeling with Soap, hopelessly humping against your thighs with you stretching out your back so you can reach for Ghost as he leans back. Your hands trace over the fat of his thighs before using your tail to wrap around Johnny's waist, keeping a firm grip to help him actually get what he wants.
His cock already painfully hard, pulsing with each beat his heart had. He was happy to be pulled to where you wanted him, all but panting into your nape as he ruts up against you.
It's always that first breach that knocks the breath from you, but Soap sits still after he's fully sheathed. Just trying to feel as much as he can with skin against skin as that lusty haze fills his mind.
When he does start moving, it's at a brutal pace. Hardly pulling out before shoving back in all the way. Jolting your whole body.
That thickly suffocating emotion had your throat vibrating in the closest thing your kin could produce to a purr. Easily keeping him steady and against you with your tail. You could feel his back tense and ripple with each roll of his hips, with your tail snugly against his waist as he licks along any skin he can.
You heal too fast for him to see the hackies he's working along your shoulders, but the darker marks of his teeth do stick just a bit longer.
It's Simon who traces the rivets of your ram like horns, eyes watching the hitch in your breath. Fingers ever so gentle as he traces all the dents and scrapes along them; careful to rub his palms down the curve against your skull. And you can taste the lust that's just as strong from him.
When Soap had cum with a snarl, as he bared his teeth against your spine, you could feel how the tired feeling was pulsing along the need to keep going. He was hard and needy as he couldn't set a rhythm with the fatigue settling along.
He must have tried to get off before getting the courage to ask for your help.
Feeling a bit sorry for the werewolf, you roll him over; turning to face Simon as you hover over Johnny's body. Watching as Soap mouths over Simon's dick through his boxers, those sex blown eyes watching him.
When you started the roll off your hips, against the shivering Soap who moans egging you on; you saw Ghost lift his gaze. Watching you ride the other with ease.
"Shit." Ghost comments,
He hefts himself up to his knees, nearly covering Johnny's face with his crotch. The wolf didn't seem to mind. Just mouthing and licking at all he could reach. Soaking more of the fabric with his spit.
"Price gave this view no justice when he told me 'bout it."
Redoubled your efforts as more warmth flooded you, but Soap didn't soften. He only meets every roll down with a thrust up.
"Don't know why any of you enjoy it, and not the action."
Johnny is whimpering under Ghost, body trembling in over stimulation. Mind lost in the throws of the absolute pleasure you're helping pump through his very soul.
"More ta do with ya looking like yah enjoying yaself then the act alone."
"You have to be none-"
Those fingers dance over your horns, finally pulling a quiet noise from you. He leaned into you, sharing the quick hiffs of air you're both taking.
"That," Ghost repeats the action. You don't moan this time, but the effect is still evident. "Is what we enjoy of this."
"Prove it."
"Gladly hun." Before his eyes roll back into his skull, "Fuck... watch the teeth soldier."
Soap had pulled his boxers off with just his teeth, getting to his dick. At the comment, Johnny bared his teeth against the intimate skin of Simon's inner thigh. So close to him that the danger runs his blood just that bit hotter.
And for all that Ghost likes the danger, that bit of pain, he doesn't actually want to bite him. And not nearly as hard as he bites at you.
"He will tire out soon, just a warning."
Simon clasps at your horns, pulling you closer by them.
"Not for long hun, he'll be up and wanting more in no time." He presses his lips against yours, mumbling with a smirk, "and I wanna tag team him when he does."