i never actually posted these here, only with the fic, and i still kinda like ‘em, so… yeah. teen au kaidan and liara end of summer heart-to-heart followed by cuddly making out.
Jenny’s eyes lol !!!
having trouble getting into the holiday spirit this year? a little tired of your usual christmas music? FRIENDLY REMINDER THAT THERE IS AN ENTIRE RECORDED ALBUM OF YAOI CHRISTMAS SONGS
featuring such ephemeral and festive hits as
- 12 Days of Yaoi
- Last Seme
- Carol of the Balls
- Gay Ride
- Deck the Balls
- Feliz Yaoidad
- Yaoi Press is Coming
- Let Him Blow
- Living in a Yaoi Wonderland
- Jiggly Balls
this was legendary
My little lady MissCherry and me, cuddling in the evening. Thanks Schpog for catching that moment!
Look at this guys look at this. It feels as cozy as it looks <3<3<3
I love these pictures so so so much <3
Early morning sketch (NSFW)
A friend asked me if I had any pointers on drawing dingle dongles and I may or may not have gotten totally carried away and drew out a bunch of stuff, heheh.
Figured Id post it just in case any nsfw artists found it helpful at all~
Also if I have any incorrect info or you have tips feel free to let me know. Always eager to supplement my penis expertise~ haha~
Excellent research doctor!
Jack had gotten rusty at counting cards. Blackjack wasn’t anywhere near as lucrative as Craps had been. Still, she managed to fill her pockets and head back up to the suite a happy biotic.
Miranda was waiting for her when she got back. The dress was gone. Now she was looking more like her old self, ready for go more than show.
She was also smoking. That was new.
"Is that one of mine?" Jack asked.
Miranda didn’t answer. She crossed the room in a strut, hips rolling like she was prowling. Jack was suspicious right up until the cigarette’s lit end arced down into her collar bone. She slapped her hand away, hard. The other woman laughed, amused.
"And I thought we were getting on so well."
Miranda stifled her laughter with an effort. “Oh, we still have far to go on that score.”
Jack reached to her neck and touched the ashy smear on her clavicle. “Not so far, if you’re hitting on me like that.”
She pressed a fingertip down onto the wound. The skin split and bled.
Miranda bit her lip.
"You like to be hurt?"
Jack shrugged. “What can I say? I get the warm and fuzzies when I fight. Some of that’s in my pants.”
Miranda cocked her head, surprised. Then her hands snapped up and shoved Jack backwards into the wall. She bounced and came back with her fists raised. Her heart was starting to pound and her blood was flowing. Violence was never too far behind.
"Don’t push me, Princess. I wouldn’t want to mess up that pretty face of yours."
Miranda smirked dangerously, like a dare. It made Jack wonder what else she could do with lips as expressive as those.
"Are you sure? You don’t want some of those ‘warm and fuzzies’ right now?"
Jack’s eyes traced Miranda’s figure downwards, to the positioning of her feet. Her stance was tight, combat ready. Was Queen Bitch actually into this as much as she was?
Probably not. But Jack was aching to feel bones breaking and flesh splitting under her fists. She wanted blood, hot and wet, on her skin. She wanted to feel the bruises swelling on her face and hands.
And Miranda had always been an attractive sparring partner. All that training, all that genetic tampering. Not to mention decades of repressed emotion and frustration. A heady cocktail of potential.
"I’ll destroy you."
"Do it then."
Jack lunged in. Easily bated had always been how people described her. It didn’t matter. She was too quick for Miranda and tugged her long legs out from under her in a snap double-leg takedown. She hit the floor with Jack on top, and even in her lust-addled state she couldn’t suppress an internal quip. Miranda’s usual position. She smirked to herself.
Once upon a time, she’d never have had a single thought while she was fighting. Was that a sign of personal growth?
She laid into Miranda, a heavy right and left to the sides of the head, a punishing blow to the flank, an elbow to the jaw, before she managed to get her foot up against her stomach and kick her off. Jack backed off, guard raised, as Miranda shot to her feet.
A snap punch to the base of the ribs turned out to be a feint. Miranda drove an uppercut into the side of her chin while she was off balance. Her head snapped back, a riot of colour spiralling across her vision. Her mind fogged with a blissful wash of endorphines and internalised euphoria. Blood filled her mouth from where she’d bit through her tongue. Her arms prickled with gooseflesh.
She liked where this was going.
She kicked Miranda in the side of the knee to stumble her. It was like kicking a metal post. She took a punch to the stomach for her trouble, then blocked a barrage aimed for her head and neck with her forearms. She could feel the flesh bruising under the impacts, her tats colouring purple and blue.
Miranda’s face was an impassive mask, but her eyes were narrow, vitriolic. Her hair had fallen out of its tail and was spilling around her head in an ebony cascade. Her breathing was heavy but strong. She was starting to sweat.
Jack lunged in, grappled her around the shoulders. Miranda fought to push her off but she had locked her hands. Skin bruised under her fingers, solid sinew turning malleable. They leaned into one another, each fighting for dominance. Sweat slick skin slid across sweat slick skin. Muscle strained beneath. Jack could hear her breath, could feel it hot on her neck and ear.
And then her teeth were in Miranda’s neck, biting, incising, drawing blood.
She let out a noise that Jack only ever heard women make in entirely different circumstances. It surprised her enough for Miranda to slam her to the floor and wind her.
The other woman slithered down on top of her, sliding her hands the lengths of Jack’s arms and pinning them at the wrists.
"I told you my failures were my own. So is my pain. In spite of what I am, I can earn pain. If I can push my body further than it can go, if I can fight harder than it can handle. My father tried to take me beyond pain, but the truth is, I love it. Because its mine. All mine."
She tilted her head back, giving Jack a view of the bruising along the line of her jaw, the thick patches of purple on her shoulders in the shape of Jack’s hands, and the bleeding wound in her neck. It was a tease.
Jack twisted her hands free, snatched a fistful of Miranda’s hair, and bit her again. She made the same noise. Jack grabbed her backside appreciatively.
Then Jack kicked her off. Miranda rolled over and brushed loose hair out of her face. She looked surprised, verging on hurt, wondering if she’d been rejected.
Jack rolled her neck and lifted her fists.
"Up. Again. Let’s do it again."