#“lemme make it better :(” he says while nearly killing you with orgasms

[littleplantfreak]

i feel like umemiya would hear about no nut november and take up the challenge just bc “WOW!!! sounds interesting!!!!” but like realistically how quickly do you think he would lose or do you think he’d lose at all?

Aria you sweet peach I'm pondering in a gazebo while it rains so let's go *cracks back*

-Tbh...He's got great self restraint with everything unless it's pertaining to you? So I don't think he'd make it, especially if it's a bet between the two of you and you start to play dirty.

Even if you didn't though, you're just so enticing in every way. How is he suppose to cope, and not show you how much he loves you, and yes he can do that without sex but he's a touchy guy and he'd have to be careful about it otherwise it'll be a month of agonizing edging every day. He starts getting overly sensitive about it and honestly a little wound up.

Trying not to hump into you while you're both cuddling or having to cool himself down with a cold shower after you sit on his lap for too long would be his life now, and he doesn't think it's worth it. A real breaking point is when you're laying on the couch and he's between your legs laying his head on your belly and he goes to press a kiss on it and sees such a needy look on your face when he peeks up that he remembers it's been about 3 weeks since he's eaten you out. He wants to smack himself in the head because what the hell is he even really getting from this? A headache and an unloved girl that's what, so he's gotta rectify it real quick. Actually tries to make up for all the times he could've made you feel good so watch out cause he'll go deep into overstim territory.

So he could last 3 weeks max but less if his partner's actively trying to get him to break his streak.

[winterbites]

(Major JoJo's Bizarre Adventure anime spoiler warning) My review of...

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Stardust Crusaders and Battle in Egypt (I'm counting them as one whole season but as two parts) is, admittedly, my least favorite season of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. 48 episodes long across the two parts, the show is definitely enjoyable but I personally wouldn't watch it again for anything other than a few cool fights. However, once again showing his viewers just how crazy his work can and will get, Akari makes JoJo's Bizarre Adventure even more bizarre starting with this season. For this review, I'm going going to take both parts into consideration. As usual, I'm going to keep my review as neutral as possible even if Stardust Crusaders isn't a top pick for me.

Unlike its predecessors, Stardust Crusaders has no narrator for the majority of the season, only showing up to speak the occassional thoughts of characters or animals. Akari always keeping things fresh, I think this is good for the show; we're no longer in the past so we don't need a narrator to tell us events as they happen in front of us.

First, I'm going to talk about the new element Akari brings into JoJo's Bizarre Adventure with Stardust Crusaders: Stands. An absolutely badass idea, Akari plays with this new element of the show beautifully. Unlike many other shounen manga/anime, the ability to control a Stand isn't solely about who has the biggest dick energy attack, but instead Akari turns the tables and uses the Stands for strategic battles; this way, it doesn't actually matter who's stronger or weaker, but instead who's smarter (which very much counteracts the art style of buff men quite nicely). Due to the Stands and mental/wit battles instead of physical battles the way it usually is in the shounen genre, JoJo's Bizarre Adventure takes a very unique turn for the better and works incredibly well given the context of the series.

Now lemme tell ya about the intros: I LOVE the both of them, and I'll start with Stand Proud from the first part of the season. So much energy, wonderfully timed visuals and the fantastic 3D-looking 2D animation; there is nothing about this intro that I don't like. It's ranked as my second favorite intro in terms of song choice, is tied for my number one in terms of visuals, and is tied for my favorite in terms of sound effects. The beautifully drawn night sky, the small addition of sketched art, the subtle hints of enemy Stands in the background, and the background constantly changing in such drastic ways are such terrifyingly engaging imagery that it makes me cry tears of happiness. Not to mention the hard to see hint of Dio at the end, only people who are active on-lookers or were shown that he's there at all will see him. I also love that, in the beginning of the intro, you see 5 stars, alluding to our 5 main characters, but then a 6th star appears, which alludes to Holly Joestar still sick in Japan. Also, the physics of Jotaro's chain and shadow is absolutely ravishing, it's little effects like that that really get me going, as well as the gradual breaking of glass at the end of the intro. The entire sequence is a masterpiece by my standards, truly a job well done.

Now, as for the second intro, I don't like it as much as the first one but it's still great in its own right. I adore the mixing of vocals, going from hard rock to the softer sounding male and then mixing them both for a wonderful Ora Ora Ora duet. I lean in towards my computer screen each time I watch the intro because the fast moving visuals are so enrapturing, not to mention you can see subtle changes in the faces of the characters and their body stance between the fast-paced frames. There's even one point where the group is lined up and the beat strikes, quickly switching them out for their Stands before swiftly changing to the next image. I also admire the way the credits are so well integrated into the intro, jumping and spiking along with the enthusiastic beat, emphasizing the song without being in the way. And when Dio uses his ZA WARUDO to stop time during the second version of this intro, I go into orgasmic bliss because it's so awesome; you can even see that piss bucket SMIRK while hearing his soft footfalls and I love it. Once again, there is nothing that I don't love about this intro.

Just like with Phantom Blood, there isn't much I can say about the soundtrack as a whole, but is fantastic in that it reflects the current situation and could easily switch up its beat when a battle turned.

As for the outros, I love Walk Like an Egyptian and its spirited inspiration, beat and vocals (fantastic job by the Bangles). There's no song quite like Walk Like an Egyptian so it's always a win in my book whenever it's used, especially in such a fitting case. I don't really like the second outro because, unlike every other intro/outro of the series, Last Train Home is a more somber or melancholy song, which doesn't really fit the show in my opinion. It's certainly a nice sounding song, but I'm just not crazy about it.

As for the characters, while I don't like them as much as other characters from other seasons, they certainly aren't bad either; we even get to see character development throughout both parts. Some characters become more mature, more level-headed and smarter with situations, and each person is internally unique as exemplified by their Stand. Some were more likable than others but, in general, the cast was pretty damn cool.

Now that I'm done gushing about all the things I love about this season, I'm gonna gush about the things that made me dislike this season more than the others, and I'm gonna start with the female side character Anne. This girl... did absolutely nothing throughout the show. In her defense, she didn't get in the way of the characters, but she didn't do anything for them either. She was even dropped out of the group halfway through the first part of the season, being inconsequential the whole way through. There was also some kind of weird sexualization going about her too: her age is never stated but she's definitely prepubescent (given the dialogue, she's probably 11 or 12 years old) but she had the body of a teenager and fawned over Jotaro. Once again in her defense, young girls fantasizing about older men (I personally enjoy the company of older men as they tend to be financially stable and more responsible) and having more developed bodies compared to their peers isn't odd at all; instead, it's actually very normal and healthy. However, Jotaro is 17, which is a lot older and, generally, the older the man (or woman) is the weirder it gets.

Speaking of sexualizing little girls, I want to turn attention to the Strength Stand user orangutan, Forever. This literal animal had the hots for Anne, and tried to do stuff to her that I can only describe as attempted rape, so that was a thing. Obviously, that's some fucked up shit that wasn't actually necessary to the story since Jotaro found out about Forever anyway and beat the shit out of him.

Next is, once again, Dio's motives. I love Dio, I really do, but he's just not that much of a well-explained character. His goal is explicitly stated this time around: he wants to rule the world. Fantastic, but WHY does he want to rule it? Who knows, it's never said why.

My next problem is with the villains of the show, they all seemed the same and reused to me. While each Stand (expect for two that did legit the exact same thing of stealing souls and putting them into objects) was unique given the user, whenever they were defeated they did one of two things: they either begged for forgiveness, which would always result in getting the snot beat out of them, or they swore their absolute loyalty to Dio (less of them did this) and died. Some of them would run away, but all of them (save for two Stand Users) never made another appearance, so most of them were just throw away characters.

Finally, my biggest problem is with Iggy, the last party member in our group of main characters who showed up at the beginning of Battle in Egypt. I know Akari wanted to make an animal Stand user to be a part of the cast and I know that Iggy was dragged out to Egypt against his will, but that doesn't make him any less of an infuriating character. For nearly the entire season, I absolutely hated Iggy: he was more useless than Anne as he intentionally turned his head the other way when the group was in trouble and/or DYING, he tried to sell Jotaro out to save his own skin as soon as he was introduced, and he had the absolute worst ambition of any of the characters in that he basically just wanted to be a pimp. After getting fucking up by an avian Stand user that totally should have won the fight (the finishing icicle appeared so much more slowly than all the other volleys, plot armor truly is invincible) and getting his leg dismembered, Iggy finally stepped up to the plate that he probably should have been on to begin with and earned my respect. Seriously, why would you so eagerly make an animal Stand user only to not use him for the entire show and then kill him off when he's barely shown what he can do? It makes no sense and it's so frustrating.

However, Akari truly has magic hands because as soon as Iggy actually started doing something, he immediately became a badass in my book and I cried another river to his death.

Speaking of deaths, just as a side note, why kill Avdol, bring him back, only to kill him again? As I understand it, Akari killed off Avdol the first time around but then realized that if he was going to kill a main character, he should probably make that character more important. But then Avdol died again and his death still felt insignificant. A good opportunity to learn on Akari's part, but I feel like bringing Avdol back to life didn't make much sense either.

[alrightinbed-betterwithapen]

Blue — Part One — David Dobrik x Reader

A/N: Hey-yo to anyone reading! This is my first time posting my work ever and it’s about the king maker, D. Dobrik. I hope you all enjoy it, I’m open to all criticism. Lemme know if the posting is weird or off. Un-beta’d rn, but I try to heavily edit. This is the first part of prolly a few parts that are in the works. I almost have the second part done, so we’ll see how this goes. Anywho, Kisses!

Warnings: slight dub-con, dom/sub, lack of communication, roughness, language, slightly smutty.

Summary: You never did claim you were smart when it comes to David. He’s turning in his seat to look at you and, of course, you shudder slightly.

You won’t leave until he tells you to...

It really was a simple arrangement at first.

—- x —-

Blue.

You liked blue the best. Green was a close second though.

You could lose track of time while staring at the deep blue that the bruise on your upper thigh was changing into. The bruise that started as a murky, ink water looking black color, was now blossoming into a sickly navy around the edges, the center of it still dark and swampy.

The green would appear in the next half day, ease its way next to the bluish, blackish mess. The green would make itself a home where the blue began, right along the edge. Maybe they would mix and create a painful yellow, a yellow you’d push at.

Hard.

Deep.

Angry.

Yellow was pretty, but you couldn’t accept it. No. Because yellow meant almost healed. Yellow meant in recovery. And there was no way in hell you’d allow your bruises to heal.

No, not when the rest of you was so, so not ready to get better.

Not if this was what being hurt meant.

You loved blue.

—- x —-

The hands gripping your upper thighs is too much. Too painful. Too heavy.

You let out a whimper, even though your whole body is shaking as you try holding it back.

“Oh,” he says, emotionless, “Oh no,” then his hands are gone. Pushing back off your thighs, pushing so your balance sways from where you are seated on the edge of the black upholstered pool table. Your legs still spread from where he stood just moments before.

David stands in front of you, an arms reach or two away, still and unmoving. His eyes hold the same anger you’ve become use to with him, hands clenched at his sides. His lips are swollen, but probably not as red or obvious as the trail of biting, stinging kisses he was just leaving from your collarbone and up your neck.

“You made a sound. I thought we discussed this earlier”, he murmurs through almost closed lips. His eyes never waver, never blink. All you can do is try to lessen the squirm that makes its way out of you.

Disappointment radiates down his body as he tips his head to the left, cracking his neck, and bring his arms crossed on his chest.

“We- you did. I’m sor-“ and the words tumble out before you can stop them.

He hates apologies. He also hates when you disobey the very clear cut rules he has started laying out at the beginning of each of these visits.

“Eh!” He tuts, livid, successfully shushing whatever your half baked excuse was going to be. Then he’s moving forwards, faster than you can comprehend, to grip your jaw in his left hand. He uses enough force that his fingers slip up and make your lips purse, eyes going wide. You can’t stop them from tearing up.

You have a sinking feeling in your stomach.

“Your Uber will be here in a bit. Make sure you wait outside.”

His words hang in the air as he drops his hand from you, retracting sharply. Then there’s this sneer, slightly over drawn on his lips, but spitting venom nonetheless.

Then, there’s his back turned to you, walking across the living space and down his hallway.

Then there’s you, perched on the edge of a pool table, alone.

This is the first time he leaves bruises.

—- x —-

The only concealer that worked to cover the slight bruise on your jaw was expensive and you’re damn glad the worst of it was on your thighs. ‘Cause fuck, this is not something you wanted to add to your routine, financially or physical.

Your phone dings when a new message comes in. You finish wiping off the last of your days makeup, the deep yellow bruise appearing fully on the bottom half of your face.

Picking you up at 4am. Don’t make me wait.

It was fifteen past seven in the evening. You had a late lunch around four, and to be honest, your appetite hadn’t been right since you had been kicked out by him three nights ago. But, you weren’t ready for bed. You weren’t even that tired yet, but also, not nearly amped enough to stay up until the earliest of morning hours.

No. No way.

Fuck.

You’re already making your way to find pajamas to lay out, as you finished the internal struggle in your head. Why fight? It’s obvious which side wins.

Fuck him.

The octave skipping groan you let out into your bedroom does makes you feel a little bit better. It’s just slightly cathartic. It make you feel a little more in control of this evening.

Then, you’re walking briskly back to the bathroom to have a quick shower and jump into bed.

Fuck me.

Your desire to finish what was stopped so abruptly, is waaay out weighing your need to stand up for yourself. Not tonight.

Tonight, you’ll listen if it kills you.

—- x —-

The crisp air of the early morning makes your skin prickle. It charges every atom in your body for what you hope happens tonight... this morning. Whatever. It also helps wake your ass up.

It’s twenty til four. You had set your alarm for fifteen past three, because you’re pathetic and desperate. But you’ve never pretended to be anything less with David. Otherwise, this whole dynamic would never work.

Your hands itch for a cigarette, the menthol ones sitting in front of you on the sleek, white outdoor table on your balcony. They’re only a slight reach away, but that’s a fifty/fifty gamble, isn’t it?

David’s pulled a cigarette from between your lips and thrown it to the ground before. All while whispering obscenities about pretty girls who taste like tar in your ear. But later that night, he was licking into your mouth trying to chase the taste and then he fucked you stupid.

So, all bets are off.

You decide to not tempt fate as your phone starts beeping three shrill notes before pausing, getting ready to beep again. It’s sad how fast you answer, pathetic really.

“Are you up?”

It’s ten til four now. You breathe a sigh of relief and say, “Yeah, I’m waiting on my balcony. I’ve been up for half an hour.”

You literally cringe at yourself, so forthcoming with him, down to the most mundane details. You shrink in your seat and bring you legs up to your chest, and then back down, jittery with nerves. His deep, ringing laughter sounds through the phone and doesn’t help you relax at all.

“Good girl,” he purrs, amusement still thick in his low growling voice. “Now, get downstairs.”

The line dies before you can reply, thankfully. You would have betrayed yourself again, a sheepish Yes Sir bound to have come out of you weakly. And knowing your luck, he would be in a Yes Daddy mood and your night would start with a punishment that would get you off, but leave you empty.

You’re up, grabbing your phone and keys, bee lining for the door. With your old white Vans slipped on and black zip up hoodie pulled around your frame, you glance to the mirror just right of your front door. Your jaw bruise is more faded than a couple hours ago, but still noticeable. Your hair is tamed, but still a mess and there’s not a bit of makeup on your sleepy face. David doesn’t like make up on you. He hates the way the mascara and tears stain your cheeks.

The walk out your door and down to him feels equally like a short journey to salvation and a long crawl towards hell. You are always torn, it’s what you want, but not quite. He’s not enough and far too much, and you’re addicted.

As you make your way to the edges of the parking lot, you can see his blue light illuminated face tilted down towards his phone. His brow is furrowed and you have a feeling you’re in for it tonight. He doesn’t glance up as you wait for him to open the passenger side door of his white, shiny Tesla, but his fingers push the button. He doesn’t acknowledge you while you get seated and start to buckle up, except to prod at the same button to close the door. He pulls at neck of his red hoodie, and sits up to drive.

You could speak first, but the fear of setting him off stops you. He’s pulling out of the parking space, phone haphazardly being thrown into the center console. It’s when you’re pulling the seatbelt the final few inches around your body to secure, that he reaches over to grab your wrist, stopping you.

“You don’t trust my driving?”

What a loaded fucking question. It’s like he’s trying to get you to piss him off, and that’s a bad sign in itself. You’re stuck staring at his profile while he gazes out onto the road.

He means, you don’t trust me?

No. Not particularly. You barely trust him with your orgasms (and that has shown to be a bad idea lately), let alone your life.

But that’s not a wise answer. That’s a very stupid answer. Especially since his knuckles are slowly growing white as his grip tightens on the wheel. He’s growing impatient while waiting for a response.

You drop the seat belt from your hand, the hand David hadn’t dropped yet, and let it snap back to where it rests near the door. The beginnings of a smirk make his lips tilt up. He still doesn’t look at you as he pulls his hand back. You want the ground to swallow you whole.

The red imprint of his fingers around your wrist where his hand had held you moments ago was already fading away. Not a bruise this time. Why did that make you ache?

“Besides, you can’t blow me with your seat belt on,” he says so, so casually, you have to stop yourself from recoiling.

He still doesn’t fucking look at you. And you have to make your eyes stop being so god damn wide as his left hand goes to push down his black sweatpants, past his hips to settle on his upper thighs. He’s just slightly hard, and you salivate. You’re pushing your self up on the seat and across the console in two long blinks (and far too quickly to be called anything other than needy). Your eyes look down to his growing member and then up to his face, over and over. You’re licking your lips before pooling the saliva in your mouth to the front, getting ready to sloppily and messy take him in.

His right hand sharply stops you, quickly tangling itself in the back of your hair and pulling you to a stop. There might have been a beep from the car signaling self drive mode was activated while you made your way over the console, but you can’t be sure. What you are aware of is the hand still gripped in your hair and the other reaching to your jaw, fitting nicely onto the bruise still lingering, to pull your face level with his.

He looks right through you.

“I didn’t say you could start,” he says with an adoring tilt to his voice that is counter active to the way he pulls at your hair harder and grips your jaw tighter. You’re being pushed forcefully back into the passenger seat like a rag doll and then he’s back to his natural position at the wheel. Staring straight ahead as goes to enable control of the vehicle and swiftly pull up the waistband of his pants. His amused, smitten voice unchanging when he says, “So eager that you don’t wait for my orders. Should I turn around, drop you back off?”

His left index and middle finger tap the wheel pointedly, staggered. The sound looms in your silence. You shake your head and murmur the quietest No you can muster. You back is flat against the passenger door where he tossed you. You can only stare ahead at him. Frozen.

“Tonight, you do not take initiative, you do what I tell you. You don’t speak or make noises unless I allow you to. You don’t think for yourself, at all. Starting now.”

You think his words should be a question. You think there should be a negotiation and an open line of communication. You think, this is the moment where you should be able to say “no,” and “please, not tonight,” and “I just want to make you feel good, I want to be good for you but I can’t under those terms.”

But that’s not how this works. That’s not how this had ever worked.

He watches you, from the corner of his eye, nod twice in your seat. His tilted smirk lights his face up with mischief. He doesn’t look at you for the rest of the ride to his house.

—- x —-

This whole arrangement had been perfect for the both of you, and casual as hell. It was the ideal way to compartmentalize the hectic schedules you both survived every day. You each had your own busy lives that neither of you felt the need to mix and complicate with a full functioning relationship. Not when it was really only the lack of sex that put you both on edge and unable to focus on your own lives and careers. The two of you were similar in this aspect, workaholics with control and self care issues.

This though, the pain and dominance or whatever, this was newer.

He had started this several weeks ago, with a simple request to not move a fucking muscle after he changed positions. He repositioned you on your knees, elbows bracing your weight under you and ass pulled up high. Even after his brutal thrusts had returned, you didn’t tremble or shake. You didn’t shift your weight or adjust your elbows. You were still. And David came embarrassingly fast.

But you’re one to talk, you came twice before he did, sweating profusely with the exertion of not moving.

From then, it was in everything you did. The requests became bolder and started appearing earlier in the nights you spent together. His requests quickly turned to orders over the course of three and a half weeks to the point you’re at now.

Just waiting, silently, in his car for the instructions to get out and follow him as he kills the engine.

You can’t remember the last time you were able to ask him how his day was. Even if it was an empty pleasantry, you did kind of miss it. You missed feeling like every thing you did around him wasn’t a fuck up.

You’re not sure if he’s gotten angrier or just accepted himself more, but the sudden changes in him has given you emotional whiplash along side the marks he physically left. You hated this as much as you loved it.

And if you were smart, you’d cut this shit off right now. You’d get out, call your own Uber and fucking wait for it at the curb outside the gates to his property, like you did last night. You’d cut your losses and high tail it before you broke completely under his will.

Well, you never did claim you were smart when it comes to David.

He’s turning in his seat to look at you and, of course, you shudder slightly. You won’t leave until he tells you to.

It really was a simple arrangement at first.

—- x —-

Part Two — Part Three — Part Four — Part Five