desire in the mouth of dogs

❤️ Cute Little Habits ❤️

* Grabby hands

* Sleepy little eyes at bedtime
* Falling asleep in sometimes crazy positions
* Holding onto your ARM more often than your hands
* Messy hair without realizing it
* The potty dance
* Getting rather hangry (hungry and therefore extra angry)
* Whiny voices when they’re mad but don’t know it
* Imitating animals they see
* Putting things in their mouth just because
* Singing extra loud when they hear musicals
* Rocking back and forth when they’re deep in little space
* Jumping up and down when excited
* Puppy dog eyes
* That CRAZY CUTE little voice
* Pouty lower lip
* Not being able to sit more than 2 inches away from their caregiver
* Becoming harder to control the more tired they get
* REFUSING to believe they’re sleepy…even as they yawn
* Needing naps
* Loving caregivers in such a way that they feel fulfilled, important, valued, and desirable.

Little Moments | Sam Holland

Summary: A collage of little moments Sam Holland and the reader share together that greatly affect their love for each other…

Warning: fluff

Pairing: Sam Holland x reader

Type: Oneshot

Requested: anonymously


The early morning sun was beginning to peek out over the horizon, and the spring grass shone like it had its own gentle glow from within. The air was frozen, that same coolness combined with the early morning hour. Though it was late enough for bright light, it was early enough for the streets to be completely deserted. It was early Sunday morning.

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I am my own worst nightmare and there are no two ways about it.
I clink my wine glass against my chest, it shatters - conclusion, I am
made of stone. I try to bite the rust from beneath my thumb - conclusion,
I am a bicycle chain, adhering to endless walls. I pass through windows,
I pass through floodgates, through shaking hands - conclusion,
I am a phantasm. I am the night’s callous cat call, fondling the blushing sky,
ending the trees’ matrimony with a summer bloodier than my unkempt mosaic of a ribcage, seducing the winter, this body of contorted blooms. 

Where did the rain go? Why don’t we talk to each other anymore? Does it hurt
to look into my eyes, these sludge-filled pools of buckling brown where my
withering once presented itself as a death or a mercy? I don’t want to
travel through ragged portals of love in sub zero temperatures, and I’m sick of mapping the icecaps of your contaminated heart, your mottled stars, your pits of hunger. Yet I think, maybe we’ll be okay here, if we just close our eyes and mime home. If we just regenerate these wasted lives. 

I remember being twelve & accepting my existence, not as a girl, 
with hair worn like the willows & lips parted in eager breath,
but a bloodletting -  what froths at the mouth & fumbles for, desirous evenings, angry, humble, tragedies amidst the train station crowd, a reckoning, a massacre in motion, a smiting of seas, a grievance of scars. Reclaiming the might of hell itself. Loosening up your sore gut and the plump conscience. Trailing something pink between the thighs of shivering mountains. A beheading. Driving along country roads that turn you into a panting dog chasing its own tail. The first intake of breath after a kiss. Diving headfirst into fatal waters.

Sunday morning glory, silence in the barracks, the household walls sweat nervously, a second coming, surely, the birth of a god, surely! It can’t be the end. This can’t be the end. 

Sweetheart, your love is a fetus, here, watch it grow, watch its tiny fists beat against the scraped surface of the mirror, and here is its spine (and you think, you can almost feel its heart, setting fire to all the villages on the other side of the river, maiming fences, stealing children) and here, we have the mouth, foggy as a swamp and slick with a warring tongue. It was never made to speak. It was made only to interrupt, to chagrin. 

We are a pagan ritual. We are a blast of cold air. We slide the knives into our sleeves. We engulf, we envelope, we are living, we are dead. I take your hand, I close my eyes. We feel our braces tighten. You lean close, you whisper: darling, there is nothing that can stomach us. Not in this world, not in the next.

anonymous asked:

Please can you write something where Jay likes Carlos and flirts with him all the time but lil Carlos is so oblivious to it all (he likes jay too) and it's just really cute. Maybe the line "well it took you long enough" could feature?? 🙏🏼💚

Sure thing! It sounds like a 5 +1 fic, I hope that’s okay :)

Five times Jay embarrassed himself with a pick up line and one time he successfully flirted with Carlos.


i. Evie

She’s been on the receiving end of Jay’s ridiculous, over-the-top, shameless flirting many times, but she doesn’t need the experience to pick up on the extra ridiculous, way over-the-top, completely shameless way he flirts with Carlos.

Oh, Evil Queen, it’s almost sad to watch.

Stil, Evie can’t take her eyes off of her study partner across from her. Carlos has his head tilted up at Jay, struggling to comprehend the line of “Man, I wish I had a library card so I can check you out.”

Jay, shit-eating grin like he has just said the wittiest, most charming pick up line and is fully prepared to carry Carlos back to their dorm room, waits eagerly for the response.

After a moment, Carlos sighs, rummages through his pocket, and hands Jay a little plastic piece. “You can check a book out with my card, but please don’t lose it. I don’t want to be fined. I’ll help you register for your own library card later.”

An expression of bafflement and disappointment cross Jay’s face and he can only stare as Carlos goes back to his homework.

Evie, red in the face and holding her breath to prevent her own outrageous laughter, grabs Jay’s hand before he can walk away. “Go pick up The Art of Seduction,” she shakily says, not bother to lower her voice because it’s clear Carlos has no idea what Jay’s intentions are, “because you seriously need it.”

ii. Chad

The Charmings have pride, they have grace, they have…well, charm.

And apparently Jay has never even heard of any of those words, let alone tried any of them.

But, Chad can begrudgingly admit, it’s kind of cute that Jay’s varsity jacket is so big on Carlos. It hangs past the smaller boy’s hips and practically swallows him, it makes Jay look like a good caretaker. A good boyfriend.

Not that Chad will ever say that to Jay. The son of Jafar had become a varsity tourney player just a month ago, but Chad already knew the arrogance and confidence Jay holds in himself.

(Audrey said Chad picked up on it so quickly because, to quote, “you’ve always been familiar with big egos”. Pfft. Whatever that means.)

And it’s also disgusting the way Jay throws his arm around Carlos and casually says, “you like the jacket? You know what it’s made out of? Bo-.”

“It feels like vinyl.”

“No, it’s-”

“Synthetic leather?”

“No, Carlo-.”

“Is the torso wool?”

“No, boyfriend material!” Jay whines. “It’s made out boyfriend material!”

Chad rolls his eyes and groans, barely catching Carlos’ “that’s not…some code for animal product, is it?”

“Nevermind,” Jay pouts, but doesn’t remove his arm from around Carlos’ shoulders. “You ruined my pick up line.”

“I thought we were going back to the dorm!” Carlos groans. “What do we have to pick up?”

iii. Lonnie

For someone whose mother spent a war breaking down the assumed limits of her gender, Lonnie learns a lot about people through stereotypes.

Not gender stereotypes (because she’s not here to undo all of her mother’s hard work) or racial or religious, but personality stereotypes.

For instance, Mal is an artist. She is creative, she is fast, her mind has never been limited to a box. She is also a leader, she hides her passionate love and care, she is not to be messed with, she is self-sacrificing.

Evie is a princess, by choice rather than blood. She is proud and graceful and aware of her worth. She is a designer, she sees potential in everything and that gives her a wonderfully, unfailing kind soul.

Jay is an athlete. He is not book-smart, but he is strength and confidence and determination. He was one a thief, his people skills and charm rival that of any Auradon-born kid and his sly, easy personality has students tripping over their feet to talk to him.

Carlos is a nerd. Lonnie loves him just like she loves all of the Isle kids, but he is one giant dork. Carlos doesn’t understand people like he does numbers, he’s not great at sports, he is an utter disaster with social situations.

So when Jay comes up to him, fully dressed in his R.O.A.R. gear while Carlos struggles with his protective gear, and asks “are you into baseball? Because I’d let you hit a home run,” complete with wink and grin, Lonnie is not surprised at Carlos’ confusion.

“Jay,” he groans, “I can hardly keep up with fencing and I had to quit tourney. Are you seriously asking me about another sport?” He sighs, like he’s exhausted from the practice they haven’t started yet. “I don’t think I can handle it.”

And Jay, amazed and speechless that his perfect charm has - gasp! - not worked on Carlos, Lonnie pats his arm.

“I think you need to be a little more forward,” she grins at him and saunters away, blowing her whistle and snapping at her team to start their warm ups.

iv. Doug

If Evie isn’t the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, Doug thinks he possibly would have a crush on Carlos.

Not that he’s gay - Doug had never given much thought to his sexuality - but Carlos’ mind is fascinating and sharp and the son of Dopey could spend all day talking to the freckled boy just to pick his mind.

Carlos understands chemistry and physics and engineering unlike anyone else on campus.

And Evie is so smart and quick in class that she blows his mind and takes his breath away and Doug would never think for a single second that he is anything but the luckiest dwarf in Auradon because of the blue-haired, stunning princess beside him.

But he still notices Carlos is kind of cute. Just a little bit.

Evie is picking at her chicken salad and Jay is scarfing down a burger, Doug nudges both of them and gestures to Carlos, who is across the field with Dude, lunch tray (and dog dish) in his hands. “Shall we invite him to sit with us?”

“Of course, dear,” Evie grins at him and bats her eyes just like she always does when Doug considers her friends. “Hey, Ca-!”

“Shh!” Jay snaps after hurriedly swallowing his mouthful of food. “I have a new one to try.”


“Yes!” Jay places his fingers to his lips, whistles loud enough for Evie to cover her ears. When Carlos looks around and spots them, Jay raises a single finger and beckons him over to their table.

Carlos bounds over, Dude behind him, and slides into place beside Jay. “What’s up guys?”

“Nothing, I, uh,” Jay leans close, face inches from Carlos’, “just wanted to see if I could make you come with one finger.”

Evie groans and Doug sputters and Carlos quirks an eyebrow. “Well, you whistled too,” he places the dog bowl down on the ground for Dude, “but, I’ll come whenever you want me to.”

Doug feels his cheeks heat up as Evie makes gagging noises beside him. Jay’s mouth is open in shock and maybe a little bit of desire if Doug can read people half as well as he can read Spanish.

(Though, both are foreign languages Evie has helped with.)

“I’ll just have to test that out sometime,” Jay breathes, runs a hand over his face, and Evie continues her fake vomiting.

v. Mal

“Make him stop,” Evie groans against a purple-clad shoulder as she fusses over a new dress design beside her best friend.

“Hmmm?” Mal doesn’t look up from her sketchbook. “Make who what?”

Jay,” Evie hisses and nods her head.

True, the last member of their group has just walked through his door and immediately drifted over to Carlos’ bed. Whether that’s because Mal and Evie are currently using his or because Jay wants into Carlos’ bed like he wants into Carlos is debatable.

“Just listen to him. It’s gonna be stupid.”

Mal looks back at her book, but opens her ears for whatever shit Jay is about to say.

“Are you from Tennessee?” He breathes, still sweaty from tourney practice, “because you’re the only ten I see.”

She snorts into her book and Evie does the same. Both ignore Jay’s glare.

“Oh ha ha,” Carlos rolls his eyes. “I’m not that much younger than you guys. I’m 15 now.”

Evie laughs into Mal’s shoulder, which is shaking from her own muffled laughter.

Jay groans.

“You can’t still be surprised,” Mal snickers, “that this isn’t working.”

“Yeah, Jay, with someone so young, you have to be a little more forward.” Evie giggles, still clutching Mal’s arm to control herself

“Don’t say young like that, it’s creepy.” Jay grimaces.

“Like your terrible pick up lines?”

“Shut up Mal.”

+ i. Carlos

Jay sets his controller down and takes a deep breath. He looks over at Carlos, who watches him curiously.

“Something wrong?”

“Yes. No. Kind of.”

“Okay,” Carlos sets down his own controller and faces his friend. “What’s up?”

Jay studies him for a very long moment, long enough that Carlos starts to squirm. “Jay?”



“Instead of video games and leftover pizza, can I take you out to dinner?”

“Like the cafeteria?”

“No, like a date.” Jay says firmly. He tries not to fiddle with the buttons on his controller, but his nerves are more powerful than his control. “In the most obvious, to the point, blunt way: will you go on a date with me? A, like, romantic date. Not like a bros date.”

“What’s a bro’s date?”

“That’s not the point,” Jay sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Will you go on a date with me?”

“Yes. Definitely.” Carlos grins broadly. “I’ve liked you since we met, Jay. I just…” he twists the ends of his sleeves, “I didn’t think you liked me back.”

Jay makes a strangled noise, like confusing and frustration, and drops his head. “No kidding.” He laughs at something Carlos doesn’t understand. “Just remind me that I have to be painfully straightforward with you.”

“Well, yeah,” Carlos scoots closer, “straightforward is the best. Like this.” He takes a deep breath. “Can I kiss you? On the lips?”

It takes a second for Jay to stop laughing at a joke Carlos still hasn’t heard. “Yeah, C. You can kiss me.”

Carlos leans forward and he does just that.

Y’all better seriously enjoy this because I think this is one of my best Descendants pieces yet! I’m just really proud of the Lonnie and Doug parts.

If you didn’t like it, I’m always open to criticism. If you did like it, please like, reblog, and send me more prompts!

Midnight (M)

He always wants something from you at midnight, not like you could refuse to anyway.

Word Count: 2.9k
Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader
Genre: Smut, Vampire!AU
Warning(s): Oral Sex, Biting, Vanilla Sex
A/N: This is for @writingsfromseoul​ because she is 100% Jimin trash! And remember, this is my first smut so it may be weird at first, but I think I’ll get better as time goes on! Thanks @minigguk for beta-ing this fic! You were a big help!

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Give It to Me

Cynn was jogging with her dog, Max, through the lush parkland in

her suburb. The beautiful 28-year-old was having serious difficulty in

keeping her huge, boisterous dog under control and he kept straining

at his leash, especially when he spied another dog nearby.

Max was a German Shepard and he was rapidly becoming a very large,

imposing dog. He was still young, but she secretly regretted the fact

that she had bought such a huge dog to keep her company after her

girlfriend of three years had left her three weeks before their


When she got home, she went straight upstairs and ran a hot bath. She

stripped out of her clothes, wrapped her hair in a towel and stepped

gingerly in to the near scalding water. The soothing bubble-bath took

away the aches and pains of her workout with the dog.

As she soaped herself up in the tub, her hands traveled over her firm

body. Going to the gym three days a week was starting to transform her

body, and she loved feeling of the firm ripples of her stomach as she

worked the washcloth. She used both hands to caress her creamy,

melon-shaped breasts and before she realized it, she was becoming

seriously aroused. It didn’t take much to arouse the shapely blonde.

As Cynn continued to pamper her body, her hands traveled down to

her pussy, which was framed by a delightful triangle of peach-colored

curls. As she slid the wedge of soap between her pouting pussy lips,

she decided that it was time to shave her pussy. It was a ritual that

she liked to do every once in a while, and since she had recently

bought a new vibrating dildo, she thought it would be appropriate to

christen it with a perfectly bald cunt.

Cynn let some of the water run out of the bath so that her pussy

mound was exposed. She rubbed some shaving cream in to the silky curls

above her cunt slit and, armed with a pink disposable razor, she

slowly and tantalizingly removed her pubic hair. It wasn’t difficult,

as she had a tidy bush anyway. She liked to keep it neat, just like

the chicks in the porno films she had started to buy over the


When she had removed the last trace of hair from her snatch, she

worked some moisturizer all over her smooth mound. She felt like she

could climax just from the feeling of having the warm water lap at her

exposed cunt lips.

She lightly toweled herself off and made her way to the bedroom.

Max was in there, sitting on her bed. “Get off the bed,” she said to

the dog. The dog just stared at her with a puzzled expression. “Don’t

forget, I’m the boss around here,” she said.

Without warning, Max jumped off the bed and pounced on her, almost

knocking her down.

“You silly boy,” she said to the dog, as she tried to get him to sit.

“You’re acting really strangely today.”

Max ignored his owner and kept jumping up at her. “Down boy!” she

ordered, but it was no good. The dog was way too frisky, and she was

having difficulty keeping the towel that was wrapped around her body

from falling down around her ankles.

As she pulled him by the collar, he grabbed the corner of the towel in

his powerful jaws and tugged.

Cynn couldn’t keep hold of the dog and protect her modesty at the

same time. The apricot colored towel unraveled around the woman,

leaving her totally naked.

“Hey you,” she said, grabbing the other end of the towel. The dog

refused to let go, thinking it was some sort of game. She got down on

her knees and grabbed the stubborn mastiff by the collar, while she

tried to release the towel from his mouth.

The dog just kept getting friskier, jumping up on his mistress with both paws.

Cynn wrestled with Max and had to admit that she was having fun

playing with her friend. She was giggling like a schoolgirl and was

now rolling around on the floor, playfully wrestling with him. Every

time she grabbed the dog, he escaped her grasp and reared up on his

hind legs at her.

Cynn was getting quite flustered. She was still nude, and she had to

admit that the feeling of the dog’s short fur against her body was

getting her flushed, especially when he brushed against her large,

sensitive nipples.

She was crawling around the bedroom on her hands and knees and was

able to grasp the dog in a mild headlock, but he pulled out and broke

the hold. Cynn burst in to fits of laughter as the dog pranced

around her.

As the dog approached her ass he reared up on his hind legs. His front

paws ended up on her back.

“What the hell! Oh no, you don’t,” she exclaimed, as she realized her

own dog was trying to mount her. She scooted out from under him.

The dog dropped back to the floor with a thud and sat still

obediently, staring at her with his big soulful eyes.

“You naughty boy!” she scolded the dog. Cynn looked between his

legs. The fat tip of the dog’s cock was pointing out from the sheath

that protected it. “Oh my goodness,” she panted as it dawned on her

that the dog had tried to fuck her. At first she was upset with her

dog’s behavior, however, she couldn’t turn her eyes away from Max’s


Max stared at her with his big brown eyes and with every heartbeat

his cock seemed to be getting longer and thicker. Sure, she had seen

his impressive set of equipment before, but she had never considered

them as an object of desire before. Three juicy inches of thick, cock

peered out from between his legs.

Her curiosity was certainly aroused now and, despite all her

instincts, she was getting quite turned on by the penetrating glare of

her dog’s eyes combined with the thickening cock emerging from the

pouch under his belly. She wanted to touch him, just to see how big it

would get. There’s no harm in that, she reassured herself.

She crawled over to Max. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as

Cynn sat beside him on the floor with her long, graceful legs tucked

underneath her. She hugged the dog and patted and stroked him


Max stayed remarkably calm, as Cynn’s touch became more intimate.

Cynn looked in to the dog’s eyes and let her long fingers explore

the dog’s body. She stroked the soft fur on his chest and slowly

worked her way downwards to his soft belly.

Her skin became flushed and she realized she was getting moist between

her legs. Cynn let her fingers go down lower on the dog’s body until

it brushed over the furry sheath. The pink tip of his cock quivered at

her intimate touch.

Boldly, she put her hand around the shaft and squeezed lightly. She

liked the feel of his cock. Even though she had plenty of cock

experience, Max’s dog-dick felt alien to her. It thrilled her.

The dog panted, but remained motionless. His piercing brown eyes

stared in to his mistress’ face as she caressed his cock.

Cynn pulled back some of the sheath, exposing more of the juicy

meat. She admired it and felt it throb deliciously in her hand. Almost

immediately it started to thicken in her grip. The cock was unlike

human dick. It was tapered like a thick wedge, crisscrossed with

bulging veins. It looked so nasty and it made her mouth water.

The dog nuzzled Cynn’s neck, while she stroked his cock through the

sheath. Inch by inch, his cock thickened and grew until over eight

inches of hard cock hung out from the sheath.

“This is so naughty.”

Cynn kept jerking Max’s cock, but now her attention was drawn to

something else. Still trapped behind the sheath was a thick, hard

bulge. She skinned back the pouch further until the fleshy bulge

strained out of the sheath. “That looks real nasty,” she purred. Now

she knew how dogs got stuck together when she saw them screwing in the


Now Cynn reached for his soft balls. The dog shifted slightly as her

warm fingers caressed his cum-laden sacks. As she cupped the heavy

balls in the palm of her hand, she could only imagine how it would

feel to have them slap against her shaved cunt.

“Oh my,” she whispered to herself. She was starting to wonder what

would have happened if she let Max continue and mount her when they

were playing a few moments ago.

As the blonde continued to masturbate the dog, he licked her face in

appreciation. She normally didn’t like the dog to lick her face, but

this time she let him do it. In fact, to her own surprise she found

herself kissing him back, passionately sucking his tongue in to her

own mouth.

Cynn was faced with a difficult decision. It wasn’t fair to have

stirred up her dog and leave him there with blue balls. She could

either keep stroking him until he shot his load, or she could take

Max to the next level. After all, he attempted to fuck her just a

moment ago, and she had been cursing all morning about how badly she

needed cock. On the other hand, this was so nasty, and even though she

was desperately horny, she couldn’t help but think how perverted she

had become.

“I guess I wouldn’t mind trying it,” she said to her dog. “After all,

you’re my best friend and you wouldn’t hurt me like all those men in

my life,” she said to herself.

“Do you still want to make love to me?” she said to the dog.

The dog responded by licking her face.

“I guess that’s means yes. But you’ll have to take it easy with me.

I’ve never taken a cock that big before.”

Cynn stood up on trembling legs and pulled an old blanket out of her

cupboard and lay it across the floor. Then she threw down a few

cushions and pillows on the floor. She wanted to be as comfortable as

possible for this moment.

She got down on her hands and knees in front of the full-length

mirror. She needed to see herself getting fucked by her dog. She

spread her legs wide, reached behind her and ran her middle finger

along the length of her slick pussy-slit. “Fuck! I’ve never been so

wet in my life,” she moaned as she slowly caressed herself.

“Come here boy,” she beckoned to the dog. “I need you.”

The dog bounded over. Again, he resumed circling his woman.

This was her last chance to reconsidered her decision to allow herself

to be fucked by a dog, but a quick backwards glance at the fat cock,

hanging between the dog’s legs put her inhibitions to one side.

Cynn seductively shook her ass in an attempt to tease the dog in to

climbing up on to her ass. “Take me Max.”

The dog seemed to understand the command and immediately reared up on

to the ass of the horny blonde. Fortunately, this time his forelegs

draped neatly around Cynn’s rib cage.

Cynn could feel the heat from his cock as it bumped up against her

shaved pubic mound. She tried to reach between her legs so that she

could plug his cock in to her pussy, but the beast was too heavy and

she would have toppled over.

The dog was already humping, but his cock kept missing her dripping

cunt by a fraction of an inch.

Cynn tried spreading her legs a little wider.

“Oh please…Stick your motherfuckin’ cock in me!” she cried in

despair as the dog adjusted his position on her ass.

Max drove forward.

“AAIIEEE!” she wailed as his thick prick lanced in to her slippery cunt.

Max instantly started humping furiously, driving his cock to the

very depths of Cynn’s cunt. The young woman was frightened as she

looked up at the reflection in the mirror. That of a monstrous beast,

fuelled by fuck-lust replaced the dog’s usually docile expression. His

haunches became a blur as he locked his forelegs around Cynn’s waist

and jammed his meaty cock in to the brunette’s body.

“Fuck me hard! Give it to me baby!”

It felt so nasty to have eight inches of thick dog cock splitting

apart her pussy lips. The sound of Max’s dick pumping in to her body

echoed in the large bedroom.


Cynn’s face was contorted in pleasure as the dog madly fucked her as

if he were rabid. Her heavy breasts swung out from under her with each

powerful stroke. Droplets of perspiration dripped from her pale, pink

nipples. With each stroke, she was being pushed across the floor

towards her own mirror-image.

The dog continued to lunge at the squirming woman, his stubby tail

twitching as he power-fucked the helpless blonde.

“Fuck me! Fuck me!” Cynn wailed as her body was thrashed by the

violent fuck-strokes of her dog..

Cynn could feel that fleshy knot at the base of his cock slapping in

to her pussy with each stroke, sending jolts of electricity from her

clit and up her spine. She could feel herself cumming.

Cynn pushed back against the knot, grinding her throbbing clit until

she came loudly. “AIEEEEEEE! AAAIIIIEEEEE! COMMIINNGGGG!” she squealed

as she came all over the dog’s cock. Her whole body shuddered as the

force of her climax made her heart thump and her legs buckle.

Max, however, continued to rhythmically violate his mistress,

oblivious to the howls of delight the woman beneath him made as she

climaxed. After several minutes of maniacal humping, Max tightened

his grip around the woman’s waist, trapping Cynn in a vice-like

grip. His fucking rhythm became slow and deliberate, then he scampered

with his hind legs, and pushed forward hard, twisting his haunches.

Even though her mind was in a state of delirium from her powerful

orgasm, Cynn became nervous by the dog’s deep growls as he pushed in

to her. It was then that she realized that he was trying to stuff her

with that huge knot at the base of his cock. Cynn didn’t think she

could take the bulbous root inside her, since it was now over three

inches wide.

She tried to relax her pussy and pushed back against the dog. The knot

started to push inside her. It stretched her and it hurt when the

widest part passed through her cunt-mouth, but it wasn’t unbearable.

She braced herself and kept pushing back until the entire knot slotted

in to her cunt.

“OOOWWWW!” she cried as the fist-sized knot disappeared inside her body.

The dog relaxed his body and she felt his full weight on her back.

She could feel his knot expand to an even greater size inside her cunt

and then she realized that she had tied with her own dog. The dog was

actually mating with her. It made her feel special that he had chosen

her to tie with and she knew that she would be doing this again and


The dog had docked with his bitch and his balls were nestled right up

to his mistress’ pussy lips. Beneath him, the lust-crazy woman spread

her legs wider, so that his balls pulsed against her clit.

Without warning, Max howled, and it scared Cynn to see the image

in the mirror, but it made her clench her pussy around the dog’s root.

She knew he was going to cum. She could feel his cock twitch inside

her. “I want to come with you,” she said breathlessly to her lover as

she made her pussy squeeze his cock.

She felt his first burst explode in her cunt. She had never felt cum

being forced so deep inside her. His cock pulsed and throbbed as she

felt three volleys of jizz being pumped in to her pussy. It felt hot,

much hotter than man-cum. If it wasn’t for the swollen knot jammed in

her cunt, she felt sure she would have been shot off the end of the

dog’s cock.

Cynn bucked and heaved as her second climax thundered through her

helpless body. “AHH-UNNGGHH! I’M COMMINNGGG!”

The dog hadn’t finished coming. As she continued to milk his cock by

squeezing her cunt around him, she could tell that he was still

dumping his seed in to her. Her pussy felt bloated and she knew that

she must be full of dog-cum. His balls continued to swing lewdly

against her electrified clit-bud.

“I love you so much. I wish I could have your puppies,” she moaned

deliriously. It was a perverted thought, but she had never felt this

close to anyone before.

She had been pushed so far forward that she was now face-to-face with

her own reflection. She kissed and licked her own mirror-image as the

dog’s jizz pumped in to her belly.

“I can feel your dog-cum inside me. I am a dog-fucking whore.”

The dog had been continually depositing his load in to her for nearly

thirty minutes now and Cynn’s pussy was feeling very full indeed.

However, relief was on the way. She could feel his knot softening

inside her and she knew that he was done with his bitch.

He pulled hard at the knot trapped in his mistress. Out of instinct,

she held him with her cunt, before reluctantly releasing him. His raw

cock popped out from her hole and his cum gushed out of her slit and

down between her thighs.

“Oh my…”

With her pussy still gaping open, she felt like a used whore. The cum

soothed her aching pussy and she just stayed like that for the moment,

enjoying the sensation of dog-cum spilling over her hard clit.

It was at that moment when she felt Max’s tongue lash at her pussy.

“Oh. You’re a good boy! Lick me…” she purred as Max’s silky tongue

lapped at the combined juices flowing from his mistress’ tender cunt.

She squealed as his long tongue slapped at the inside of her thighs

and around her smooth mound. The sound of the dog slurping Cynn’s

pussy bounced off the walls of her bedroom, and a third delicious

orgasm rippled through her body.

After Max finished cleaning Cynn’s pussy, he flopped to the ground

on his side.

Cynn turned around and lay next to him with her head resting lightly

on his belly. His cock had almost retreated into the sheath. She took

a moment to study it closely. She breathed on it and her warm breath

made it stir again.

Her dog looked proud and mighty, sprawled along the floor. She

realized that she was no longer Max’s mistress. On the contrary, he

was now her master and she was his bitch.

Schizonephilim’s experience with an abscessed tooth...that nearly killed them

Hey everybuddy! Aunt Scripty here. Today’s post is a guest post by @schizonephilim , who was kind enough to share their story of a near-fatal abscessed tooth.

I’m always welcome to posting interesting personal stories that writers can use for inspiration and details in their work, and if you have a story you’d care to share, go ahead and submit one!

Note that I haven’t edited this post for content or for grammar.

Thanks so much to schizonephilim for their openness and for sharing.

xoxo, Aunt Scripty


I’ve really been enjoying your blog!  Reading more realistic medical advice, I think, will really help my writing.  :) (Awww, thanks! ~AS)

In October 2009, I had gone to a local concert with my mom, and I was having the time of my life.  I noticed in the breaks between the two main performers that my left jaw was starting to get sore, but I attributed that to all the screaming I’d done at first.  By the time it was all over with and we had driven home, however, the pain was steadily increasing, and I realized I probably had an abcessed tooth.

That was on a Saturday.  By Monday, my jaw was beginning to swell, so I managed to get in to see my dentist, who gave me a round of antibiotics (500 mg of penicillin, 3 times a day) and pain meds.  I was in too much pain to go to work, so I called in and stayed home.  I took the antbiotics religiously, making sure never to miss a dose, and I was in so much pain that I seemingly ate the pain pills like they were candy (I REALLY don’t recommend that), but neither medicine seemed to have any effect.

Wednesday rolled around, and the swelling in my jaw (and the pain) was getting worse.  Also, my jaw was beginning to stiffen, making it harder to open my mouth to eat or talk.  I went back to my dentist, and he gave me another prescription of antibiotics (now 4 times a day) and more pain meds.  I also got a note for work for the days I had missed so far and drove it to my job so my boss could see that I wasn’t exaggerating my situation.  I remember he’d made the joke, “You sure you didn’t break your jaw?”  All I could say was, “If I had, it’d probably hurt less.”

When Friday came, my condition had deteriorated.  I could barely eat between the pain of chewing and my jaw stiffening to the point I could barely open my mouth, I mostly stayed in bed with an overwhelming desire to sleep, and I struggled to get any sleep because of the pain.  My dad wanted to take me back to our dentist, but he was out of the office that day.  His staff was in, however, and they were able to refer us to an oral surgeon in a nearby town.  I was in no condition to drive, so he took me to the oral surgeon.

As luck would have it, it was raining cats and dogs when we got there, and the oral surgeon’s office had lost power.  He still saw me, though.  Without power to his equipment, he couldn’t do much of anything in depth to look at me, but he listened to us and he could see for himself what sort of condition I was in.  He put in a call to my regular doctor to get me in, and I was off back to my hometown to see him.  Before we left, he told us that if I started having difficulty swallowing, I needed to go to the ER immediately.  (Better than waiting till it was hard to breathe, he said.)

My doctor took one look at me, listened to me and my dad (mostly my dad, because it hurt too much to speak), and prescribed three shots of Rocephin (sp?) over three days.  I received the first shot there in his office, and the next two over the next two successive days at the hospital because his office was closed on the weekends.

When Sunday evening came, I had reached the end of my rope, so to speak.  I had already received my third shot of Rocephin earlier that day, and the round of new antibiotics was just as ineffective as the penicillin.  My jaw had swollen to frightening proportions, and the lack of rest and constant pain had driven me to my wits’ end.  It was, in fact, getting difficult to swallow, but that was overshadowed by the rest.  I had my mom take me to the ER, where we had to sit for a few hours in the waiting room before ever seeing a doctor.  They were completely unable to take my temperature, since I couldn’t get my teeth far enough apart to fit the thermometer through them no matter how I tried.

I live in a small town, so we don’t have an abundance of specialists.  When I finally saw the ER doctor, he referred me to an ear, nose, and throat specialist (ENT) at a hospital about two hours away.  My brother drove me the two hours, and I arrived at about 1:00 on Monday morning.  I went through triage quickly and was put in an exam room.  While we were waiting for the specialist, a med student came in and explained that she had heard about my condition and wanted to see for herself.  I didn’t mind, since I figured if she ever saw that situation again, maybe she could learn something.  After all, it’s not every day that an abcessed tooth gets that badly out of hand.

Once the ENT came in, I finally, FINALLY, was able to get a dose of morphine, and let me tell you, the relief from having the pain eased was so sweet I wanted to cry.  He sent me for an MRI so that he could see exactly where the pockets of infection were.  Luckily, I don’t have a sensitivity to iodine like my dad does, otherwise I would have been in real trouble.  Once the MRI was over, they took me to a different room than before, and I was left to wait with my brother again.  I can’t remember if I had my second dose of morphine before or after the MRI was done; my memory is understandably a little fuzzy about that detail.  I remember hearing what sounded like a man screaming in agony in another room nearby while I waited; I imagined that he had been injured in an accident and had broken bones, but of course, I had no idea what their particular story was, and I didn’t ask.

By the time the ENT came in to see me again, that second dose was wearing off.  He explained to me exactly what he was going to do.  The infection was structured in a kind of honeycomb way, so simply opening and draining wasn’t going to work; they were going to have to scrape the infection out.  He gave me a local anesthetic, but before doing that, he explained that because the infection was acidic, it would burn off the anesthetic quickly.  I didn’t feel the incision just beneath my jaw when he made it, but every other sensation was agony.  I felt him scraping inside my jaw and neck, pushing out mounds of pus, and the smell made me want to throw up.  For those who are unfamiliar with infections of that nature, it smelled like meat that had spoiled in the refrigerator…but it was my meat, and it was right underneath my nose.  My brother held my hand through the whole procedure, and I was clenching my jaw and holding in the urge to scream in pain.

Once he was satisfied that he had gotten out as much as he could, he washed out the area with a saline solution and packed it full of what looked like gauze ribbon.  He explained to me that he couldn’t stitch up the area, since that would be inviting the infection to come back, and he left probably an inch or so of the ribbon hanging out of the incision, and taped gauze over the area to keep it covered.  He said that it was for giving the infection a path to travel out, which made sense to me.  I was given follow-up appointments and discharge instructions, along with one last dose of morphine and a prescription for more (different) antibiotics and pain pills.  It was somewhere around 3:00 or maybe later when we left, and it was about dawn when we arrived home.

It took me about another week to recover, and at least two weeks to be somewhat back to normal.  I wasn’t told at the time, but when I went to the ER in my hometown and was sent to the larger hospital, the doctor had told my mother that I had to go right then, that it couldn’t even wait until morning.  I was on the verge of sepsis, and I only truly appreciated that fact later.

One last interesting tidbit about my experience.  When the ENT was scraping the infection out, he said that he was going to send off samples to see exactly what sort of bacteria it was that had caused all this trouble.  On one of my follow-up appointments, I thought to ask about what the results had been, but the doctor, despite searching the computer database and even calling the labs at the hospital, couldn’t find any trace of the samples.  To this day, I still have no idea what bacteria had caused the infection that gave me so much hell and, if not for the ENT and the wonderful other doctors and nurses and their expertise, would have been the end of me.

tyler seguin // the spy who loved me

requested by @penguinxii

warnings:consumption of alcohol, but mostly nothing

who: tyler seguin x reader

premise: you set up a spy scheme to prove Tyler’s loyalty


You were going absolutely insane. That was the only explanation you had for the thoughts that plagued your every waking moment. You had never been a suspicious person, but, 3 months into dating Tyler Seguin, you couldn’t help but question every story he told you.

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Rainy Days

“Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.” -John Keats

Raven was not an outdoorsy person.

Sure, nature was pretty. Of course she thought so; she was wont to meditate on the roof during sunsets and bask in the salty ocean breeze. It was calming and gave her the chance to tune everything else out. She also would not deny the importance of wildlife for society as a whole; economically and otherwise.

But that did not mean she wanted to go traipsing out into the wilderness armed with only a potato rake and bulky, hard-to-walk-in waders.

Raven heaved a very obvious sigh and poked at rotting leaf litter with the butt of her rake. “Do we really need to do this?” she asked for the upteenth time, earning raised eyebrows from her fellow green skinned companion.

“Would you rather pay the city damages?”

She just scowled. This whole excursion was a result of the Titans’ contract with Jump City; they’d pay off any city damages via community service. There was a lost list of services they were provided year-to-year to choose from, ranging anywhere from cleaning trash out of the gutters to helping out at local schools.

This year, the city had given an option to help out at the local university. Apparently the school was short on teaching assistants, and somehow the Titans were qualified to help. Raven figured it had more to do with publicity than anything; after all, they didn’t do much of the actual teaching, they just showed up to classes and held office hours to help the students. Plus, their presence definitely helped the attendance and registration numbers.

Raven hissed, tugging herself free of a thorn bush. The forest was riddled with them, and she was pretty sure her shirt was riddled with holes now.

Biology was fun, Raven wouldn’t deny that. There was something fascinating about how all of biotic aspects of nature just fit together, and she enjoyed reading through various studies and articles. But she didn’t particularly care for field work.

This particular ‘job’ was one-hundred percent Beast Boy’s idea. As soon as he’d seen the class listed on their community service sheet, he’d begged Robin to let him do it. The Titan leader had consented, somewhat baffled by the changeling’s enthusiasm. After all, Beast Boy was not known for his teaching prowess, and he’d requested that Raven accompany him, lest things go south.

But Raven had an inkling that Beast Boy was more interested in the class itself than teaching. Which was why they were now participating in the class field trip out into the depths of a swampy forest, overturning logs and looking for herps.

“Besides,” the shapeshifter said as he expertly rolled over a log, “this is fun!”

Raven raised a brow, unimpressed. “And what exactly is fun about thorns and mud?” All she got for an answer was an excited yelp as Beast Boy dove for the ground. He popped up, holding a wriggling salamander in his hands.

“Dude, check it out! An Ambystoma opacum!”

She blinked. “Wait, you know the Latin names?”

“Uh, yeah.” Bafflement tickled her senses, matching the shapeshifter’s expression as he raised a brow at her. Raven shook herself and padded closer, peering down at the curious looking amphibian. She could admit that it was cute, with its black beady eyes and tiny little feet. The colors were intriguing as well; a black body with white patterns crisscrossing its back, giving the salamander a marbled appearance.

“Yep, it’s a salamander,” she said dryly. “Yet another animal you can shapeshift into.”

Beast Boy rolled his eyes and pulled out a plastic bag, dropping the salamander inside. “Yeah, great, a green marbled salamander. How accurate.” He bent down and scooped up some damp leaf litter and placed alongside the salamander inside the baggie. “We’ve already talked about this; it’s better for the students to get the field experience.”

Raven sighed. He was right of course; they had spoken about it. Repeatedly. Raven had tried to convince Dr. Carrleton, the professor, to merely show the class live specimens via Beast Boy, hoping to escape the obligatory field work. Both protested heavily against it; though Dr. Carrleton did ask the shapeshifter to supplement for any native species they couldn’t find themselves.

There were many reasons, of course, that Raven’s idea was rebuttable; students looking to study herpetology needed to know how to find said herps, how to handle real wild ones, and how to properly and ethically mark, weigh, and potentially collect said creatures. Plus, there was the added obstacle that Beast Boy couldn’t project any color aside from green, though his range was pretty extensive in terms of the color’s spectrum.  

“Come on, let’s go check out that creek,” Beast Boy said, cutting through her thoughts. Raven just shrugged and followed after him, carefully picking her way through the shrubs and briar bushes.

The ambling creek carved a path along the forest floor, sloping down into a little gurgling gully. Muddy banks jutted out around the curves and fallen branches and mossy rocks peaked out of the water. Raven watched as Beast Boy leapt into the creek, water spraying out in all directions. She eyes the slopes, trying to figure out the easiest way to join him.

Should she shuffle down? Or find a less steep section?

Light drops splattered on her nose, and Raven directed her gaze upwards. The forest canopy was not quite complete yet, but there were enough leaves developed to obscure her image of the sky. Still, Raven could see hints of grey overhead, and she scowled.

Great. Just what she needed.

“Beast Boy!”

The squeaky voice grated on Raven’s ears, and she cringed. Crashing through the forest were two of the Herpetology students, both of which were currently lusting over Beast Boy like dogs in heat. It was utterly disgusting, the intensity of their desire, and it made Raven want to barf.

“Look what we got!” the first girl squealed, sliding down into the creek with ease. She tossed her golden pony tail as she thrust the baggie into his face, a charming and grotesquely flirtatious grin curved onto her lips. Beast Boy plucked the bag from her grasp, his gaze focused solely on the critter enclosed inside.

“Damn, Lisa, that’s awesome!” He shot the student a playful look. “What species is it?”

Lisa opened her mouth to speak, but her friend on the bank beat her to the punch. “It’s Desmognathus ruber!”

“Yep, that’s right, Emily!” Beast Boy chirped, handing the bad back to Lisa. Emily’s face contorted into a grin so smug, that Raven felt an urge to smack it right off. She suppressed a growl.

Stupid college girls being stupidly inappropriate.

She marched forward, ignoring the rain that was starting to come down harder. Raven jabbed her potato rake into the mud to assist in her descent as she tried to not fall on her face. Unfortunately, Raven misjudged just how muddy the slope was. Her supposedly extra-grip waders did nothing to help her keep her footing, and she found herself sliding down the bank and splashing right into the creek.

Raven floundered, trying to pull herself up out of the water. She coughed and spat out creekwater, barely managing to stagger to her feet.

The section she’d fallen into was deep. So deep, in fact, that her waders were now full of water. Raven bit her lip hard.

Don’t shriek, don’t cry. Don’t shriek, don’t cry.

“Shit, Rae! You okay?”

Beast Boy’s voice broke her out of her reverie, and Raven blinked at the green shapeshifter. He half jogged, half waded through the water, rain dripping off of his face. It was starting to really come down, which was so not helping the situation.

He reached for her wader strap, concern billowing off of him. “Here, let me-”


A roll of thunder accompanied her voice. She smacked his hand away, narrowing her eyes. “I have had enough of this stupid field trip. I am soaked, muddy, and standing in the stupid rain.” A bitter laugh bubbled from her lips, and she tossed her hands in the air. “And for what? A stupid contract? No. I’m done.”

Raven worked to unfasten her wader straps, her numb fingers fumbling and awkward. Green hands entered her vision and clasped her hands, making her pause.

“Let me help,” Beast Boy murmured. Raven wasn’t sure what it was, but something in his voice enraptured her. The anger she felt dissipated in an instant, and Raven watched dumbly as Beast Boy undid the straps. Some of the water spilled out, though she’d have to actually take the damn things off to get it all out.


Raven looked up, catching Beast Boy’s gaze. She sucked in a breath. Wet hair hung in his face, dripping with rainwater. His eyes were bright amid the growing storm, luring Raven deeper into their mossy irises. She felt his thumb brush against her jaw and she shivered.

Tingles spread across her skin, making her feel warm despite the water that clung to her skin and clothes. Raven could feel the college girls watching, but they didn’t seem to matter anymore.

Not with Beast Boy this close.

He kissed her then. His lips tasted of rainwater and peppermint, a taste Raven was quickly becoming addicted to. She hooked her hands into his damp shirt, pulling him closer.

Raven had read many books. She’d encountered countless kissing scenes before, each one more intricate and interesting than the next. But nothing really compared to the feel of Beast Boy’s lips on hers, and the blanket of euphoria that wrapped around them tight.

The broke apart, their foreheads brushing.

“We should probably get out of the rain,” Beast Boy murmured. Raven hummed, glancing up at the obscured sky.

“Perhaps. But I don’t mind staying for a little while.”

The shapeshifter raised his brows, a playful grin warming his features. “Oh?”

She shushed him by kissing him again, there beneath the rain.

I had no clue how to end this. Oh well. Enjoy!

-mod vixensheart


A small sequel to Legacy (on AO3 here).


For the most part, Laurent seemed content to observe the child from a distance—watching with interest, but no apparent desire to participate, as Damen rocked and bounced and babbled at him. Damen had insisted that Cassina, the nursemaid, bring little Augustos to their rooms twice each day.

“I’m sure Cassina is happy to do that,” Laurent said, one day when Damen took the time to spoon thin gruel into the baby’s mouth.

“She is,” Damen said cheerfully, “and so am I. Do you not have the saying in Vere, that if the steward feeds the king’s dog, it is the steward’s dog?”

Laurent cocked his head. “No,” he said thoughtfully. “I don’t believe we do.”

“You have enough experience of hounds and horses, though, to know it’s the truth. I’ll choose a more personally relevant example, though—did your brother not make time for your company?” Damen felt this was still strange fragile territory between them, yet the point was worth making. And make it he did, judging by the way Laurent’s head jerked back an inch.

Damen, his gaze still on baby Gus as he tried to coax another spoonful into his mouth, ventured onto ground more dangerous still. “From what little you have said, I have assumed—and correct me if I do it wrongly—that your father and perhaps even your mother were content to make sure you were well cared for by others, but it was Auguste who took the time to do so himself.”

“My mother,” Laurent said, and stopped a long moment before finishing simply, “tried.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

sorry to ask, but what is internalised mysoginy? ^^'

You know how you probably don’t think twice about the fact that people keep relatives of wolves in their homes? If you stop and think about it, you realise it’s something that didn’t happen naturally and you only think it’s normal and natural because you were brought up around it and nobody ever questions it even though they have a fucking animal in their house, crawling onto their beds while they’re sleeping and vulnerable, playing with their children, eating their table scraps. If it was a raccoon you’d suddenly realise just how weird it is. But because it’s dogs, and we’re used to dogs, your brain gives it an automatic pass unless something makes you stop and consciously think about it.

Same thing goes for cultural values. Unfortunately, a lot of western culture doesn’t value women as highly as it does men, or only values certain specific things about them (usually not their brains). You grow up in that, and some of it’s going to seem normal until something calls it to your attention and you have to actually look at it and think about it. If a guy stops you on the street and says, “You can’t do this because you’re a woman”, you’d probably stop and go “wait, who are you to say that to me?” But if you’ve never seen a woman do the thing, if you’ve always heard people talk about the thing like it’s a given that women can’t do it, then if you try to do the thing and your brain goes “I can’t do this because I’m a woman”?

That’s it. That’s what internalized misogyny is. But it’s no more natural - and really, not much more desirable - than letting an animal descended from wolves lick your face with the same mouth it just used to eat some other animal’s poop.

Bang Bang! (Ch.11)

Pairing: Ramsay Bolton x Reader

Summary:  The Red Wedding happened a week ago. Your boss, Petyr, insists on celebrating the men who “won” this victory, the Red Kings, an assassination group run by the sour-looking Roose Bolton. You, one of Petyr’s favorites, is tasked to find out more about these Red Kings. Who are they? Who are their clients? Who is next?You’re very good at what you do until you meet him. What do you do? Girls like you can’t fall in love. Does the Pretty Bird fly away with him? Or does she ruin the Bloody Bastard and everything he has?

Words: 3458

Read on Ao3:

“No, it’s not enough,” Ramsay said, looking you over. “You need to show more skin. It needs to be sluttier. What else do you have?”

“I have this,” you showed Ramsay a short, white dress with small sleeves.

“Put it on,” he ordered. You took your current dress off in front of him. He was watching you. His eyes followed every curve of your body. It had been weeks now. He still hasn’t fucked you. You’ve kissed him. He’s seen you almost naked. You would have thought that he would’ve forced you to have sex by now.

You saw his eyes. You knew he was a hungry dog. His mouth was salivating.

“That’s it,” he said. “That’s the dress. He’ll want you in that.”

“I’m sure Theon’s friend will enjoy it,” you giggled, hinting your almost desire to Ramsay. “You never do.”

“I’m sure they will, but they’re not your main target. Theon is,” Ramsay sat back down at his laptop.

“I’m confused.”

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anonymous asked:

Hey! Can you do more of your sleepy clingy sleepy shaw please? Thanks!

Shaw represses a yawn as she lets the door fall shut behind her with a soft click. Down by the fireplace she can hear Root tapping away at her keyboard, glasses on her nose and her signature concentration frown ever so present.

Bear jumps up to greet her, Root’s mouth turning into a soft smile. She had already heard her, now making sure Shaw knows that too.

“Hey sweetie.” It’s a soft mumble, a tired one. No lingering desire on Root’s tongue, no hanging questionmark. Root was like this a lot more behind closed doors.

“Hey,” Shaw says, reaching down to scratch the big dog behind his big ears, pushing him away a little when he tries to lick her.

“Rough day?” Root asks, and Shaw grumbles something in confirmation. “You?”

“Mm,” Root answers, closing her laptop as soon as Shaw walks closer. She reaches for Root’s hand, tugging her up and towards the bedroom. Root follows wordlessly, allowing Shaw, suspecting where this is going.

Shaw kicks off her boots and peels away her clothes until she’s standing in front of Root in a black boxershort, reaching for Root’s flannel, almost lazily removing every piece of clothing from her body.

“On or off?” she asks her, gesturing to her bra and Root shrugs. “Your pick.”

Shaw nods and undoes the clasp, tossing the piece of blue lingery over a chair. “It’s nice.”

Root smiles wickedly. “C'mere.”

“Root, I…”

“Shh.” Root takes the lead from her, flipping the covers back and gesturing for her to get in. As she does, Root scoots next to her, allowing Shaw to fold herself into her completely. Her leg over her’s, arm draped lazily over her chest, nose buried in the tickly hair by Root’s neck.

Shaw sighs. “I’m not moving until there’s coffee,” she grumbles and snuggles closer as Root slowly threads her fingers through her hair.


A soft smile plays on Shaw’s lips and she cranes her neck to kiss Root. “Good.”

impish-laughter  asked:

Wait can you elaborate with chihuahuas?

If by ‘elaborate’ you want me to talk about them the same way I did dachshunds and started (really, I only touched on one issue) discussing pugs, then sure. I can start an incomplete list of concerns I see in the breed. Lets start going from nose to tail.

Nose: The snoot itself is fine. They generally only have mild brachycephalic issues (elongated soft palate, secondary collapsing trachea), but it’s what’s under the nose that will get you.

Teeth: Look at this mouth. Just look at it.

This is severe dental and peridontal disease. It’s infection and puss and rot stuck around the teeth, down to their roots. Terminal teeth. Trash mouth. Sewer mouth. It smells like you’d expect it to. Half of those teeth would have come out with a good sneeze, but they’re all causing pain and inflammation in that poor dog’s head.

Infections of the tooth roots can become so severe that the result in abscesses behind the eyeball, or osteomyelitis, weakening the bone so much that spontaneous jaw fractures can occur.

Interestingly she was much less inclined to bite when examining her mouth later, after almost all her teeth were removed due to severe pathology. I think pain was a factor more than fear.

Head & Brain: A deer-head chihuahua has a fairly sensible head. I would consider it a good head if not for the dental situation. Apple-head chihuahuas are problematic, with frequency and severity of problems increasing with the extremeness of anatomy. The desired ‘apple’ shape is achieved by breeding for mild hydrocephalus, fluid retention within the brain, causing the skull to bulge. Breeding for this trait results is some dogs being more extreme than others and you can find heartbreaking pictures of your own of severely affected pups on google images.

Some are so badly affected that their eyes can’t focus on the same spot, some can’t feed properly, and the skull deformity leaves their brain with reduced protection. My partner has hydrocephalus, and because of it he started having migraines when he was 18 months old, and is currently suffering a 9 month long migraine. Now I can’t exactly tell if a dog is having a migraine or a headache like we understand them, bit I know that his condition is linked to his chronic pain, so I would not be at all surprised to find out that hydrocephalic dogs endure something similar.

Spine: These tiny creatures are unsurprisingly fragile and end up under the surgeon’s knife for spinal issues more often than expected for a breed without a long back.

Heart: Whether this is an inherent weakness, or whether it’s just a fact of life that something is going to go wrong in a breed that often reaches eighteen years of life. Everyone dies of something, eventually. Many elderly chihuahuas (and their mixes) develop some sort of heart valve problem during their life. Most of the time it’s a mitral valve issue, which will get worse with time and required medication to control symptoms. This is where being able to give the little dog becomes a huge advantage.

Trachea: Although a cough is a classic symptom of heart disease it is also a symptom of collapsing trachea, and these little dogs often get both at the same time. The trachea (wind pipe) can be so badly affected that it collapses in on itself. This is typically worse with excitement. It should be obvious why this is a problem.

Knees: Oh my goodness gracious, the knees on these things are shocking. Almost all of these dogs have at least one luxating patella (Medially Luxating Patella = MPL) to some degree. Usually a low-grade one isn’t a huge deal to a lightweight dog, but chihuahuas don’t just throw low-grade MPLs. The last one my poor boss had to do had its patella sitting out of joint by 90 degrees around the leg. In a dog under 2kg he struggled to find implants of an appropriate size to improve this deformity and let the dog walk normally.

He swore so much during that surgery, those tiny bones were so soft, and the implants needed to be so delicate, it was not a surgery he looked forward to doing again. He will though.

Anal glands: While not a breed specific issue, smaller dogs often have more problems expressing their anal glands. Some chihuahuas suffer from frequent anal gland abscesses, and rectally expressing these glands on such tiny dogs is something owners rarely choose to attempt at home.

Medicating & Feeding: Being so little owners have a tendency to let these dogs get away with bad or anxious behavior that wouldn’t be tolerated in a larger dog. Being so small in a big world is probably a bit scary anyway, but dogs often feed off their owner’s emotional reactions. If an owner always acts as though their dog might get hurt and should be scared, the chihuahua learns from it.

People also have difficulty understanding how much food is ‘enough’ for a dog that weighs less than a human newborn. Consequently they are often either overfed or become spoiled. So many owners insist their chihuahuas wont eat anything except freshly cooked human food, and treats. They were accidentally trained this way by their owners.

Difficulties with training and spoiling means it’s often difficult to medicate a chihuahua, and given that they suffer a variety of long-term medical conditions that benefit from daily medication, being able to actually give the dog it’s tablets makes a big difference to their quality of life.

They can be happy, confident, charming little dogs if handled confidently and understood.

Honestly, I wouldn’t mind owning a chihuahua, but one on the larger side (2.5-3kg) and with the deer head phenotype. This variation seems to have far less problems than the tiny, dome head versions. As with most things, you encounter more problems with more extremes of anatomy.

anonymous asked:

22 kuroo and tsukishima for the soul mate au please!!!

Ayeee a Haikyuu!! pairing! I haven’t written for either of these characters before so I hope I do okay!

22. The one where it is impossible to lie to your soulmate.

Word Count: 405

“Come on Tsukki~~”

Tsukishima refused to open his mouth as he was terrified by what he might say. His soulmate was sitting across from him with his signature smirk on his face, not letting up on his pestering. Tsukishima took another sip of his coffee which was starting to get cold.

“It’s just a simple question and all you have to do is give a simple answer,” Kuroo teased, smirk growing wider at the sight of Tsukishima loosing composure slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching at the want to speak. “All I want to know is what your most embarrassing moment as a child was that’s all.”

The blonde wanted to say that he didn’t do anything embarrassing as a child but he knew that that would not come out of his mouth. Instead, he continued to opt to keep quiet. However, his confidence was wavering as it seemed like his body was against his mind. His mouth kept twitching, his body fidgeting as he felt an overwhelming desire to blurt out the truth. He quickly took another sip of his coffee, hoping that would subdue the desire to speak, only to find that his mug was empty. Kuroo noticed this and leaned closer over the table.


At the sound of his first name, Tsukishima’s resolve slipped.

“When I was in elementary school I used to bring dog bones to school and bury them before class then, at recess, I would go out and dig them up, claiming they were dinosaur bones.” He quickly covered his mouth with his hands but the truth was out there. His face turned bright red as he looked at the table, refusing to meet the other’s face.

“Holy shit that’s adorable,” Kuroo said breathlessly. Hearing this, Tsukishima looked up in wonder, looking at the other’s face which wore a bright smile and showed nothing but admiration and amusement in his eyes. “I once pretended like I was a cat and licked Kenma to try to get him to join me.”

Tsukishima laughed loudly, soon joined by Kuroo until they were both out of breath. “We were seriously uncool,” Tsukishima said after he stopped laughing. He looked up and noticed his boyfriend had gotten close, not caring that he was practically laying on the table between them, and moving closer still.

“Maybe that’s why we make perfect soulmates,” he said before connecting their lips in a sweet kiss.

~Send me a soulmate prompt and pairing~

Taylor is a brilliantly rational and resourceful girl, but she uses both things in very questionable ways.

For the most part, I like her rationality and the way she uses it in the heat of battle, but she’s got an enormous flaw in that she trusts others too little and herself too much.

She tries to be moral (by standards set by herself), but she’s big on rationalizing away her shadier choices as things she “had to” do, and even then she sometimes takes that flimsy rationalization a bit further.

Take what she did to Clockblocker as an example. She “had to” fill his outfit with bugs because he was freezing all the other ones. She “had to” fill his nostrils with bugs to stop him from going after Bitch and the dogs. But did she really have to fill his mouth? His ears? His eyelids? No.

She thinks that the gruesome treatment she gave Clockblocker was something she “had to” do so that she doesn’t go to jail for the robbery she “had to” do to find out who the Undersiders’ boss is so she can turn him and the other Undersiders in. Another thing she “has to” do.

And ultimately, it seems to come back to not a desire to do good, but to be accepted and praised by the big time supers, the Protectorate - whom she fangirls over, with the exception of Armsmaster after he called her out on her bullshit.

She assumes that others are only looking out for themselves (Mr. Gladly, Armsmaster… hey, sudden crack theory, what if Mr. Gladly is Armsmaster), rarely stops to think about whether her preconceived notions (about that or other things) are correct, and doesn’t allow anyone to help her.

She sees a world where she stands alone as the sensible and rational mind who knows what needs to be done, and that is her biggest flaw.

❤️  Cute Little Habits  ❤️

* Grabby hands

* Sleepy little eyes at bedtime
* Falling asleep in sometimes crazy positions
* Holding onto your ARM more often than your hands
* Messy hair without realizing it
* The potty dance
* Getting rather hangry (hungry and therefore extra angry)
* Whiny voices when they’re mad but don’t know it
* Imitating animals they see
* Putting things in their mouth just because
* Singing extra loud when they hear musicals
* Rocking back and forth when they’re deep in little space
* Jumping up and down when excited
* Puppy dog eyes
* That CRAZY CUTE little voice
* Pouty lower lip
* Not being able to sit more than 2 inches away from their caregiver
* Becoming harder to control the more tired they get
* REFUSING to believe they’re sleepy…even as they yawn
* Needing naps
* Loving caregivers in such a way that they feel fulfilled, important, valued, and desirable.

‘She made herself look at that face now, really look. It was only courteous, and a lady must never forget her courtesies. The scars are not the worst part, nor even the way his mouth twitches. It’s his eyes. She had never seen eyes so full of anger. ‘

Many people think Sandor is ugly. Martin has confirmed that he looks average without the scars. Other characters are also described as plain looking, including Ned. In fact, Sandor’s dark hair and grey eyes do seem pretty common Northen features. Arya is even mistaken for his daughter and Sansa mistakes him for Ned once. I am not saying that he is some secret Stark or something. I actually think his features kind of tie him to the North. Other things also do the same thing: the whole wolves-dogs theme, his desire to go North, the way he protects the Stark girls etc.

‘As the boy’s lips touched her own she found herself thinking of another kiss. She could still remember how it felt, when his cruel mouth pressed down on her own. He had come to Sansa in the darkness as green fire filled the sky. He took a song and a kiss, and left me nothing but a bloody cloak.It made no matter. That day was done, and so was Sansa. ‘

‘’..if the gods are good, she’ll forget she was a Stark. She’ll wed some burly blacksmith or fat-faced innkeep, fill his house with children, and never need to fear that some knight might come along to smash their heads against a wall.“ (Jamie)

Sister Slaves Part 3

This is the continuation of my story of sister Slaves Hannah and Ayuna from the Tumblr handle @hortzz.


The two slave girls were “awakened” for their 2nd day of training. Awaken is probably not the correct word since we kept them edging all night while listening to their disorientation orientation tape. For the next 2 days, their schedules included being “awakened” at 6am. Both of the slaves at that point had legs like jelly. We feed the two pieces of meat water in a dog dish and with their hands tied behind their backs, they’re forced to use their mouths to drink. This again is strip the 2 fucktoys of their dignity. They were in their second day of food deprivation. After their water, which we would give them 30 minutes, they would both be brought to the exercise room to the treadmills. Again the slaves are blindfolded, gagged, wrists and ankles cuffed and forced to wear ballet boots. They’re held up by straps to keep them from falling slipping but are also wired to be shocked if they decide to rest on the straps. They would go for 3 hours at 10 mph.

Then we would take the slaves for torture training. With slave Hannah we decided since it was worth a lot of money, we decided not to subject it to too much physical torture. Basic flogging and a riding crop on its ass, pussy and tits. The rest of the training was more psychological torture such as water boarding and other breath play. My favorite thing to do to the slave was placing a noose around its neck hung from the ceiling and placed on a barrel. In heels. We to make sure the rope was thick enough so the slave wouldn’t break its neck. When the slave would slip off, we would hold the rope up until we were certain the slave was losing oxygen and then released. We would again subject the slave to edging for hours.

In the meantime, slave Ayuna was subjected to slightly more harsh training and punishment. Caning(although we were capable of administering maximum pain without leaving heavy marks or doing permanent damage) and a long ride on a wooden horse.

We again forced them to perform lesbianism on each other and forced the two sluts to perform oral on all the slavers. The two slaves would be given water during lunch and dinner time. Then they would be strapped into bondage chairs and forced to watch the slave mantra on a big screen tv. At 10pm, we would retire the slaves for the night. Again they’re given water which is laced with a stimulant to increase their sexual urges. Locked in the arch back device, ball gagged with a leather hood around their heads and earbuds in their ears to listen to the disorientation tape. And the vibrator attached to their clits. The vibrators were on a timer to go on and off every few minutes to ensure they would continually be edged all night long. Usually it took the slaves less than a half hour for them to start begging to cum. And by morning, both were totally disoriented.

Slave Hannah, by the third day was just about totally compliant. It would not make eye contact and would refer to us as Master or sir and the women would be referred to as Mistress.

Slave Ayuna was a little tougher. It usually had to be prodded with something like a cattle prod. She was still holding out hope that they would be rescued. Problem was it had no idea where they were. It figured it might be in the US due to the American sounding accents but certainly couldn’t narrow their location down beyond that.

At the end of their 3rd day of training, we let the slaves sleep at the end of the day. Slave Ayuna was tied to a cot with her wrists bound to the headboard and her ankles bound to the foot of the cot in a spread eagle position. This allowed any slaver who so desired to have a little fun with it. And we all did.

Slave Hannah was kept in a cage since their was a no penetration order during her training. We kept her hogtied, blindfolded and gagged with earplugs in her ears. She was so exhausted that she fell asleep very quickly.

At the beginning of the fourth day of training, we took the slaves off their food deprivation and would feed them oatmeal with milk again in a dog bowl and the slaves forced to eat with their mouths. Lunch was usually cold cuts with water and dinner was ravioli with white bread and milk. Also at the end of the day, we would clean the slaves taking a hose to them. We of course had them tied down during the process.

By the fourth day of training, we decided to start slave Hannah on pet training, something we usually don’t start till the beginning of week two of training. We put it in puppy training, forcing it to crawl on all fours while wearing a collar and leash. We then did Hucow training. We locked the slave securing its neck, wrists and ankles and attaching pumps to its nipples. We inject a chemical in it to induce lactation. Then we finally did the pony training. It was fitted with a body harness and head harness with a bit gag and put boots on it that had hoof heels. The slave would take us for a ride as we rode in a chariot.


At the end of the week, we heard from man who ran the brothel and inquired about the status of slave Hannah. I advised him that I felt the slave was ready to be sold. We sent him downloaded feed of her training session and he was very impressed.

I then told him about the slave’s sister. I advised the brothel owner that although she was making progress, might need a little more training. However the brothel owner saw the feed and also was very impressed and agreed, sister Slaves would make him a lot of money. After some negotiating , we agreed on $600,000 for both. He would pick them up the next day.

We started finishing up by giving them both barcodes on the back of their necks and pierce their nipples and clit. Later that evening we had the collaring and branding ceremony.

We brought both slaves dressed in black leather corsets, black garter belts, a little lighter colored stockings and black open toed strappy heels.

“Is the slave ready for its collar?” We asked slave Hannah.

“The slave is ready if you wish it to be”

We proceeded to place a black metal collar on the slave with a chain attached.

We proceeded to do the same to do slave Ayuna’s collaring.

“Is the slave ready for its collar?”

“Yes!!” Was all it would answer.

“That’s not the proper answer slave” as I applied the riding crop to it. After which I placed the collar around its neck.

Then we placed the branding iron in fire. Then we strapped both slaves to wooden benches.

“Is the slave ready for its branding?” I asked slave Hannah

“The slave is ready if you wish it to be”

We placed the iron on the slave’s back.


The slave formerly known as Hannah was now slave 1012.

Next was slave Ayuna’s turn.

“Is the slave ready for its branding?”

This time the slave refused to answer.

“Is the slave ready for its branding?!!” As I applied a riding crop against her. I then proceeded to brand her as she screamed in agony. The slave formerly known as Ayuna was now slave 1013. We gave slave 1012 a light flogging but slave 1013, we applied the cane.

When we retired the slaves for the night, we put 1012 on a cot. She was restrained but not too tight allowing it some comfort. 1013 on the other hand we put in the arch back device as we had the first three nights and subjected it to edging and total sensory deprivation.

We allowed slave 1012 to sleep till 8am the next morning and fed it sausage and eggs and juice for breakfast in a dog dish. We allowed the slave to eat without restraints. Slave 1013 was just given water and subjected to the treadmill for 3 hours.

The brothel owner arrived at noon to pickup his merchandise. Both slaves were placed in cages for traveling. Slave 1012 was put in first kneeling down with its wrists behind its back and its collar tethered to the floor of the cage. While 1012 was very compliant, 1013 was dragged kicking and screaming into the cage. We then placed the cages on dolleys and placed into their new master’s van. Within about an hour, both slaves would be on their way to their new lives as slaves in a brothel in Thailand.

The End