envious of whoever has the omegatauri username rn
seen from United States

seen from Italy

seen from Singapore

seen from Russia

seen from T1

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Germany

seen from United States

seen from Australia
seen from Russia
seen from South Korea
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States

seen from Denmark
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
envious of whoever has the omegatauri username rn

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
hello..
Wow, ok HSS:CA squad except Skye and Erin are CANCELLED. No apology?? Not ONE mention or acknowledgement that they treated MC like actual trash?
Homesick
Characters: Suitcase, Knife. A lot of mentions of the Poker Pals. Ships: none Word count: 1071 Description: Suitcase feels homesick.
Hi there, again! This is a very self-indulgent fluff/angst. This is written to be read as if they were humans, but if you avoid a few details, you can read as if they were objects. Suitcase does have arms in this, but theyāre partially paralyzed. Happy reading!
Suitcase didnāt feel like getting out of bed. Sheās usually a morning person, and is always out of bed before 8 o'clock, but. Not today. Her limbs were stuck to her mattress, weighed down as if they were made of lead. She was drowsy and thirsty but she couldnāt bring herself to reach for the water bottle next to her bed.
PLS CLAUDE FLUF
Ask and you shall receive anon! Iām going to write this as if you were a human who contracted him.Ā (ļ¾Ā“ć®`)ļ¾*: dļ¾- Mod TrashĀ
One the rare occasion you can convince Claude to cuddle, heās really not the best at it. Affection, not to mention physical affection, is a foreign concept to him. Heās either going to awkwardly stand there, awkwardly sit there, or awkwardly lay there.
Claudeās going to have a very slow learning curve. The more physical affection becomes the norm of his life, the more he learns about it. At first, heāll just imitate what he observes. If you constantly have your hands in his hair, heās going to start petting and stroking your hair in return. If you rub his back, heāll rub yours. Go slow and do onto him as you want done to you.Ā
After the imitation phase ends heāll start to experiment. One day he might keep a hold of your waist, and if he sees you enjoy that, heāll do it more often. It may seem heās doing this all out of obligation to your contract but if he cares enough to put up with it, he likes you a lot more than he lets on.
His skin is always incredibly cold and there isnāt too much he can do about this. His hands and feet are the worst. To compensate for this, heāll often dress their bed in extra blankets if heās going to be near you at night. If convinced to come in a snuggle with you, you two are about to make a nest of blankets and soft furs in the middle of the bed.
Even though he may not be the most affectionate guy out there, he learns to appreciate the affection heās given. Even if itās only a very short period of time of the grand scheme of this demons life.
Break down his walls enough and Claude may actually be a decently affectionate and protective partner.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
| Safe In Your Arms |
The memorial was over, and everyone was retiring to their tents. Agronās body felt the effects of the abuse it had undergone. The beating. The nailing to the cross. The blood loss. The over exertion back to the rebels camp; for he refused to let anyone fucking carry him. Regardless, he had required the support from another, and that of course being Spartacus. Agronās eyes had been downcast practically the entire way. In part due to the swelling on his face, but another reason . . . was for the simple fact that he felt ashamed.Ā
Especially when he was to face Nasir. Nasir; who had embraced him so easily. Absent anger. Absent blame. Only to speak of the gods returning him to his arms. Agron felt . . . a fool. And now, he was a disabled fool. The use of his hands completely compromised. And thus, his spirits broken.Ā The hour was late and they were in Nasirās tent. Agron supposed, their shared tent. Though he knew not where he stood with Nasir after what he had done . . . after having left him.Ā
He wondered in this moment, if it was almost better to have died on that cross, than to return to him in this state. Agron sat on the edge of the bed, not wishing to admit the drain his body had felt. Though, it was hardly a secret given the physical state that could be easily observed. He said nothing. What could he say about all this? He could not stop thinking of the two holes in his hands.Ā His life had been his identity as a warrior. With that identity now stripped from him . . . he didnāt know who he was. WhatĀ he was.Ā
The Romans had ensured he would never raise a sword again, nailing his hands rather than the norm of the wrists. Death, a kindness. But kindness was not something to be expected from those Roman shits.Ā āGratitude,ā Agron said in a weakened voice, unable to keep the emotion from it. Though he could not look at Nasir. He was too ashamed, of everything.Ā āFor the aid.ā For the support, physical as well as emotional that Nasir had immediately offered as soon as Agron entered camp. The Syrianās heart too strong to give Agron what he deserved: which was nothing at all.Ā
@warrior-nasir
sigh