#(any actual content being posted is debatable)

[artidoesthings]

creating the most unhinged au with @boom-fanfic-a-latta and @graceandtheidiotsquad

[the-kipsabian]

i genuinely dont deserve the kind of kindness people show to me

[renthony]

In Defense of Shitty Queer Art

Queer art has a long history of being censored and sidelined. In 1895, Oscar Wilde’s novel The Picture of Dorian Gray was used as evidence in the author’s sodomy trials. From the 1930s to the 1960s, the American Hays Code prohibited depictions of queerness in film, defining it as “sex perversion.” In 2020, the book Steven Universe: End of an Era by Chris McDonnell confirmed that Rebecca Sugar’s insistence on including a sapphic wedding in the show is what triggered its cancellation by Cartoon Network. According to the American Library Association, of the top ten most challenged books in 2023, seven were targeted for their queer content. Across time, place, and medium, queer art has been ruthlessly targeted by censors and protesters, and at times it seems there might be no end in sight.

So why, then, are queer spaces so viciously critical of queer art?

Name any piece of moderately-well-known queer media, and you can find immense, vitriolic discourse surrounding it. Audiences debate whether queer media is good representation, bad representation, or whether it’s otherwise too problematic to engage with. Artists are picked apart under a microscope to make sure their morals are pure enough and their identities queer enough. Every minor fault—real or perceived—is compiled in discourse dossiers and spread around online. Lines are drawn, and callout posts are made against those who get too close to “problematic art.”

Modern examples abound, such as the TV show Steven Universe, the video game Dream Daddy, or the webcomic Boyfriends, but it’s far from a new phenomenon. In his book Hi Honey, I’m Homo!, queer pop culture analyst Matt Baume writes about an example from the 1970s, where the ABC sitcom titled Soap was protested by homophobes and queer audiences alike—before a single episode of the show ever aired. Audiences didn’t wait to actually watch the show before passing judgment and writing protest letters.

After so many years starved for positive representation, it’s understandable for queer audiences to crave depictions where we’re treated well. It’s exhausting to only ever see the same tired gay tropes and subtext, and queer audiences deserve more. Yet the way to more, better, varied representation is not to insist on perfection. The pursuit of perfection is poison in art, and it’s no different when that art happens to be queer.

When the pool of queer art is so limited, it feels horrible when a piece of queer art doesn’t live up to expectations. Even if the representation is technically good, it’s disappointing to get excited for a queer story only for that story to underwhelm and frustrate you.

But the world needs that disappointing art. It needs mediocre art. It even needs the bad art. The world needs to reach a point where queer artists can fearlessly make a mess, because if queer artists can only strive for perfection, the less art they can make. They may eventually produce a masterpiece, but a single masterpiece is still a drop in the bucket compared to the oceans of censorship. The only way to drown out bigotry and offensive stereotypes created by bigots is to allow queer artists the ability to experiment, learn through making mistakes, and represent their queer truth even if it clashes with someone else’s.

If queer artists aren’t allowed to make garbage, we can never make those masterpieces everyone craves. If queer artists are terrified at all times that their art will be targeted both by bigots and their own queer communities, queer art cannot thrive.

Let queer artists make shitty art. Let allies to queer people try their hand at representation, even if they miss the mark. Let queer art be messy, and let the artists screw up without fear of overblown retribution.

It’s the only way we’ll ever get more queer art.

_

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[helluvapoison]

jealousy, jealousy

˚✧₊⁎ The Vees ⁎⁺˳✧༚

warnings: violence, off page murdah, suggestive themes, possessive behavior

18+ only

watch out for red flags in real life and read at your own discretion ♡

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• The least jealous of the three, but that doesn’t say much, does it?

• Running an enterprise goes hand in hand with being an Overlord. Vox prides himself on being everywhere at once but he knows his limits. If wants to keep this cushy life he built, and you safe, he can’t spread himself too thin. That means occasionally cutting back on distractions

• So go out, have your fun— playtoys even! He’s not worried. Vox has literal eyes on you 24/7, access to your phone and all its contents, your lifeline is constantly synced to his peripherals. Really! He’s not worried!

• The problem arises when Vox feels threatened or undermined. If he’s in the same room, no one should even be looking at you! And if some sorry soul dared to touch you!? That’d be the last time they have hands

• “I’ve been looking for you!” He says from behind as his claws creep around your shoulders. He’ll ignore the Sinner, bringing your attention to him as security drags them away. You don’t need to know how jealous he can get

˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Sharing, shockingly, is not in her vocabulary! Not outfits, not credit, not the spotlight and fucking especially not you

• You’re her favorite project, she so lovingly calls you, which is a giant compliment. She dresses you every day so if— for some hellish reason— you left her side, she knows she has a visual claim on you. Vel quickly snaps and posts a pic of the two of you together before you go, just to remind her audience the fact you’re spoken for! Don’t you feel safe? And stylish?

• Unlike her partners, Velvette can multitask so having you around the studio can be an everyday treat! Unfortunately she has to split her focus, occasionally crashing the conversation to a stop so she can snap at someone

• Her eyes are sharp, they pick up on every little detail and seldom miss a thing. No one in her workshop would even think about approaching you, unless Vel asked, so it was all too easy to spot that new-nobody-model break his neck to check you out

• You’ve seen Velvette reduce even the oldest, most thick skinned to a puddle of piss in the street with her words. She doesn’t give anyone the chance to touch what’s hers. She’s shameless and loud, stopping the inappropriate behavior from across the room if she has to, “Oy! You! You’re fuckin’ fired, get the fuck out of here ‘fore I set you on fire!”

• As they run for the elevator, she debates if the clothes they’re wearing are worth keeping or not. With a glowing finger she swipes them off the model anyways, stripping them of her brand… and their dignity

• Velvette marks the occasion with a kiss to your cheek, stained with black lipstick, and another posted picture with a clever caption

˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Val invented jealousy

• He handles it as well as everyone expects

• It’s not limited to you, either! Business partners, employees, friends (if he has any left), play things, he’ll be up and arms about anything that belongs to him. There’s only one way to cut the cord tethered to him, and he’s always the one to decide how and when

• Val may have a lot of toys but you’re not one of them. You’re special— precious, actually!

• He has tabs on you at all times. Tracker in your phone, jewelry with his name on it, a bodyguard if he’s feeling particularly paranoid that day!

• Val also loves showing you off. Love bites are his favorite mark of ownership, he’ll show off wherever is most recent so be prepared to swat his hands away. Everyone can look, but only he can touch. He has four hands, one of them is on you at all times in public

• No one should manage to get in spitting distance of you— but if somehow they did and had the gall to talk to you… he’ll break their nose on the spot. He’d make quicker work with a gun, but then he’d get blood on you and he doesn’t want that

• “You’re so fuckin’ hot tonight, baby, look how clumsy you’ve made this idiot!” Val cackles, poorly masking his rage, “Seriously, I think you’re trying to get me riled up.” You open your mouth to deny it but he laughs again, carefully pulling you closer with both pairs of arms, “I’m only teasing!”

• Looming over you, Val shoots said idiot a murderous glare that gives them a five second head start. He’s yet to lose this game of chase. He always returns, clean as a crappy soap ad, to shower you in gifts in lieu of an apology for disappearing

[roostertuftart]

literally this

I saw someone say the other day that style would never work because Kyle needs someone that challenges him and

1. Idk where you got the idea Stan doesn’t challenge Kyle because oh boy does he

2. Also like. Idk? Challenge him how? Fight with him? It’s fine if you like kyman or whatever but Kyle is a really insecure character who CRAVES having people stand by him and support him. If anything, having Stan support him more (and vice versa Kyle supporting Stan) is what their relationship needs to work, not someone who’s gonna fight with Kyle and give him a hard time constantly/leave him to fend for himself more

[missfertileandferal]

lowkey super anxious to post this but im missing you guys so much <3

i plan on a solid return soon! i just wanted to get off my chest whats been going on:

Earlier this year, I dealt with an awful situation of my kinky stuff leaking into real life. My insane coworkers found my content and as I was serving on the clock, proceeded to show my customers and all the staff. then i was fired. Im traumatized to say the least but I over came it.

Come mid summer, I planned so step back for a little bit to move apartments no more than a couple weeks. What happened was both my job (i worked with close family friends so stressful) and a really bad situation with a companion found about my kink stuff. i never expected or was prepared for the humiliation, deception, and pain that would come from my fetish journey

My last job was such a loss. I had been blessed with a cute job as a medical office assistant without any credentials (i wasnt doing anything out of my capabilities of course) it was so peaceful and perfect compared to the drama of my last gig plus working with familiar people felt just like home honestly. Then I got covid. I was out for 2 weeks, at the same time i was moving into my new place. I tried calling them back to let them know I was cleared and ready to get back to work. I received a humiliating text. I was dismissed. That turned into a crippling anxiety of them confessing to my family what I do in my past time

The following week I was met with more disappointment. Ive said this before but I dont have many people in my corner. It used to suck to admit but I stand with pride now knowing those who are around me love me 100% regardless what I do or dont do.

One of my dearest dearest friends, who I had previously communicated what I do (not to a full extent they always respected it) called me very dramatically only a week before I planned to see them (they live across the country and we ALWAYS visit each other when in our cities) It still doesnt feel real tbh, the call only last 40 seconds. I was informed that “I was going on the wrong path” and could no longer be associated with. That’s alls that happened. 8 years down the drain

I was informed by outside sources that my hometown opps had gotten hold of my content (who my ex friend still associate with but I despise bc they’ve always been obsessed with me but in a bad way) and they had confronted him about being my friend. he pussied out and cut me off. they also mass reported my last instagram account😡🤬

I had to take some time back to seriously debate if these loses were worth it. I was swallowed with so much anxiety knowing that an uncomfortable amount of people in my zip code knew what ive been up to. its already complicated being into this and while at the same time not being in a plus size body. thats another conversation tho

That debate has turned into me accepting these events as the universe weeding out people/things that no longer serve me. This has shown peoples true colors, if I am not to be associated with because of my sexual freedom, body acceptance, and undoing of fat phobia then PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE.

Im recovering ❤️‍🩹 but my heart and hedonism can’t be helped. i love being a kinky lil gut slut. its helped me grow in so many ways from acceptance to living an esoteric dreamy life. i love all the hot girls and guys that i see on my timeline. they hype me up and vise versa. i love this little corner of the internet. my fellow freaks keep me going. i’ve been so on and off online but every time i come back to the sweetest words and support. thank you guys for your patience and consideration

my anxiety is to the roof as im typing. its crazy that these privacy problems havent been within the actual community. funny. if your still reading this I love you extra. ill be streaming on ig on my comeback day!

new ig acc @missfertileandferal💘

[thehmn]

I’m intersex and I’m very hesitant to make this post because it could very quickly turn into a shitshow if I don’t word my thoughts correctly, but I’ve noticed a small, slowly growing trend and I think it’s important to talk about this before it gets out of hand.

I’ve seen a couple of posts with a lot of likes and reblogs where trans people accuse intersex people of being transphobic when they want hormonal treatment or surgery for themselves to look more female or male. It’s never about forced surgery on intersex children, but specifically about adult intersex people who want treatment for themselves. In these posts people see it as subconscious transphobia because they think this mindset is supporting the gender binary and harms trans and nonbinary people who technically get intersex bodies once they start to transition with hormones and surgeries. In their eyes not only are intersex people who use hormones/surgery to visually get out of the intersex sphere abandoning trans people, they’re also working agains nonbinary people who use intersex people as proof that there are more than two sexes which justify the existence of more than two genders.

The fact that there are a lot of similarities between trans and intersex people should be obvious. Both groups are saddled with bodies that doesn’t necessarily represent their gender and both can experience severe body dysmorphia, but at the end of the day the biggest difference is that the bodies of intersex people change on their own.

If you’re trans, imagine if you were assigned your preferred gender at birth and was perfectly content and happy in your gender experience when you suddenly hit puberty and start developing sex characteristics that goes against your gender and suddenly people around you start telling you you’re not actually the gender you think you are. Basically, imagine the way you felt before you came out/transitioned, except reversed.

I can for the life of me not understand why a trans person who thinks hormones and surgeries are acceptable for trans people can’t extend that mindset to intersex people.

It’s an ongoing debate among intersex people wether we belong in queer spaces and I can see both sides. A lot of intersex people consider themselves cishet people with a birth deformity who aren’t any more queer than people with dwarfism. Other intersex people feel more at home in queer spaces because there’s generally more acceptance of people who fall outside the norm.

But at the same time, in my experience, you get a lot of the same questions in both spaces. Both queer and cishet people often assume intersex means nonbinary, and I’ve been asked more than once how intersex people can call themselves cis or trans when their bodies fall outside the two majority sexes, forgetting that it’s all about what gender you were assigned at birth.

This leads to situations where you’ll meet trans men with functioning penises and trans women with natural breasts. A child might be born with something that looks like a vagina with a big clitoris and be assigned female but once they hit puberty the big clitoris becomes a small penis.

And even if they’re trans and start developing sex characteristics more in line with their true gender they might not be ready for it yet. As a teenager you become a target if you stand out so if you’re a trans girl living as a boy and you suddenly develop breasts that can be horrifying.

I personally experienced a much milder version of this. As a child I was perfectly content with people calling me a girl but I also felt like a different kind of girl. Not in a “not like the other girls” or tomboy way. More like a girl with something else in the mix. It was a very physical feeling because I was naturally stronger and more boyish looking than other girls and I didn’t really feel like I fit in with either boys or girls but at the same time it didn’t bother me when I was grouped in with the girls during school activities. I’d play around with makeup in my room, giving myself a beard and chest hair without wanting to be a man. It just felt like the right mix. Then I hit puberty for real and developed breasts and hips but also a full beard and chest hair. Despite all the times I had done it to myself I was mortified. This wasn’t something I could take off. I stood out wether I wanted to or not. Shaving left me with stubble. People looked. People commented on it. And my breasts didn’t grow super big and a lot of my body fat sat on my stomach like on a man, which meant if I didn’t wear a very flattering bra and feminine clothes I was sometimes mistaken for a chubby guy with manboobs. I was NOT ready for that. I was already struggling to fit in at a new school so this was like a social death sentence, not to mention I wasn’t sure about my own gender yet. It was something I should be allowed to work out on my own in peace when I was ready for it without people constantly asking what I, a child, had in my pants.

So hormones was a gift that allowed me to “transition” when I was ready for it at a later age. I’m off those hormones now and live as a “woman with something extra” like I always knew I was, but the things I had to go through as a child makes me very sympathetic to intersex people who does not feel that way and just want to be a man or woman with nothing extra because that’s their gender and like everyone else they want their gender and gender expression to align.

I don’t think it’s fair to expect people to be a martyr for other people. Most intersex people think trans rights are important but that doesn’t necessarily mean they belong in that debate. I know a lot of trans people who think women’s rights are important but feel no obligation to help the cause by sharing their experience of what it was like living as one gender and then another and how much respect and dignity they gained or lost after they transitioned.

So while I understand the natural instinct of wanting intersex people be part of a lager cause I also think it’s unfair to call intersex people who want to look like their preferred gender transphobic.

I really hope I made myself understood and that this isn’t an angry post. I just saw this “intersex people are transphobic for taking hormones” opinion with little to no understanding of the intersex experience and I’m hoping to shed a bit of light on that ❤️

[freyanistics]

The fetishization of Hobie Brown

Side note: This post is not intended to start up the age discourse that surrounds Hobie. I am not going to get into it as this argument/debate comes up every so often and really doesn’t prove anything on either side you are on. I’m not dissuading anyone from absorbing any content of Hobie and saying it’s problematic EXCEPT for the things I’m pointing out in this post. If you see Hobie as a minor, that’s fine. If you view him as an adult, that’s also fine. Until the directors come forward and confirm his canonical age I am not going to bring up the same facts that is brought up whenever his age comes to discussion. This is just me bringing up a reoccurring issue I’ve noticed that doesn’t get too addressed by the community (and when it does it’s often pushed to the side)

The fetishization and inherently the oversexualization of Hobie Brown is not only problematic but also harmful. Black men being fetishized has been going on for decades since slavery times. I’m not going to go too deep into the history but if you’re interested this creator has a very good video discussing it.

With Hobie Brown being a darkskin black man that is part of the punk scene and comes off with a “rough” exterior you’re going to have people put stereotypes on him. Despite how he’s portrayed in the movie I’ve seen people headcanon him as this cold person who wouldn’t care about his partner’s feelings or come off as a womanizer that sleeps with a lot of partners without a care in the world. He fucks rough and is aggressive while the reader is this innocent person pulled under his spell. That’s where some of the problem delves with him being portrayed as this aggressive and sex deviant who doesn’t care about his partner(s) feelings. It’s a stereotype a lot of (mainly non black) people see black men as.

Despite the fact that Hobie in the movie shows to deeply care for his friends, even going as far as helping Miles who he didn’t even know up until now. He’s shown to be gentle when handling Mayday. Yet people still want to paint him as the polar opposite.

Take Miles G for instant. I’ve seen him get the same treatment with him being painted as a “gangster” who is aggressive and your typical gang lord despite him only having five minute screen time. While yes from that little time he does seem to be the much colder version of Miles Morales painting him out to be a thug goes into that dangerous fantasy a lot of people see black men. People (again mainly non blacks) view black men as this dominant and powerful man who is always aggressive in and out the bedroom.

The same can be said for Miguel who even the screenwriters have written him as “animalistic” and “feral”. Writing him off more as some beast than a human being.

Circulating back to Hobie there’s nothing wrong with finding him attractive the problem delves if you’re headcanoning him or viewing him as your stereotypical “hood” boyfriend who is deprived of any other emotion except for anger, jealousy, or this sex god who will beat up people for even looking at his partner. When we make these harmful stereotypes about black characters it starts to trickle down to irl and how we view actual people.

And we end up seeing shit like this on the daily. I don’t even have to explain why this is problematic.

All in all Hobie Brown is much more than just a pretty face. He’s a young black man living in an oppressive fascist society that he’s actively fighting against. He deserves to be treated more than just a sexy conveniently attractive guy but a much more complex character who’s backstory in atsv is still a mystery. If you’re just gonna sexualize him 24/7 and not see him anything outside of that you’re weird, and you’re even weirder if you headcanon with “he’s ugly but he got that big dick 🤪.”

[annerbhp]

If you would but indulge this fandom elder for a few moments, I'd like to point out a few things that I think can make all of our fannish experiences on this hellsite (affectionate) so much more joyful.

Try not to treat yourself or others as "content-providers."

This happens when you allow yourself to be influenced by real or imagined expectations and demands of others. "But I know people want..." "But people would expect me to..." "But they might not like it if I..." "It's been too long since I've written/posted anything..." "What if people get upset if I..." These are the joy killers. The only questions you should ask yourself when posting stuff to tumblr (or not) is "does this bring me joy right now?" and "would this cause harm?" That's it. You can also tag liberally so people can block stuff if they want. That's also a nice thoughtful thing to do. But try not to let the nebulous concept of "people"--your followers, your readers, the internet at large, or whatever--become a bogeyman in your own head. Most of us already have enough internal critics trying to trip us up at any given moment. Try not to invent more.

Treating others as "content-providers" happens if you send asks or comments to someone on this site demanding more content of a specific type, or insinuating that you are entitled to something from that person. You are communicating to that person that they only have value as a content-provider, and only when providing whatever it is you want. This is dehumanizing and ignores the thousands of reasons that person might choose to be here. Tumblr is not a subscription service. No one is paying for anything here. Most people here are just doing stuff that makes them joyful and we are lucky enough that sometimes they share it with us too!

2. Fandom is not a marriage.

The concept of "being in a fandom" is actually incredibly nebulous, as it should be! There is nothing you need to do or declare to be "in a fandom." There is no minimum threshold of love, or time, or interaction, or "production." It's just a feeling. A place. A space that brings joy. (And sometimes, heartbreak, but that's another topic all together.)

Fandom is also not a marriage. You can't cheat on a fandom. You do not have to have formal divorce proceedings and let go of one fandom before messing around with another one. There's no such thing as fandom infidelity. Neither is fandom a job. You don't have to give two weeks' notice. You don't have to post public intent on the town hall. You're not banned once you step out, never to return. You can "take a break" without any moral implications or risk of becoming the focus of a pop culture debate about whether or not you were justified to mess around with another fandom during that time. You can leave a fandom and never go back, all without having to consciously decide to do so. You can fall out of love with a fandom and then fall back in love with it later. It's not a marriage/job! There are no rules!

3. Take ownership and curate your own experience.

If there is a thing, or a blog, or a person who once brought you joy, but on balance no longer does, or makes you more disappointed or annoyed or upset than not, you do not have to keep interacting with them/it. Following someone on tumblr is also not a marriage. You can follow/unfollow as you like, no harm, no foul. It's just curating your personal joy, and I hope we will always wish each other the best with that. If you are scared of "missing out on something," then you will either need to block tags enough to make it enjoyable, or decide unfollowing is worth the risk if it makes you too unhappy to keep following!

The ultimate thing is, it's up to you to curate your fannish experience. It is not up to the person you are following to change to fit your expectations or hopes. (See point #1.) You can feel ways about this, of course! But those are your feelings, which are yours to handle. Do not put them on the other person. Do not send them asks demanding things or lashing out. It won't make you feel better and it definitely won't get you what you are looking for, unless your actual aim is to kill the joy of another person so you are not upset alone. In that case I'm not sure what to tell you other than you might want to spend some time meditating on that one and think about if that's really the kind of person you want to be. Or if this kind of space is actually good for you.

That's it for now. Thank you for indulging me. Don't be a dick on the internet, friends. Take no shit and do no harm. Take care of yourselves! 💕

[crosshairlovebot]

welcome home / hunter x f!reader

pairing: hunter x f!reader

description: you return home to find hunter in the shower, and he shows you just how much he missed you while he was gone.

word count: 4,036

warnings: NSFW 18+ explicit sexual content. heavy scent kink. plot only if you squint. p in v s*x. oral s*x (f receiving). slight overstimulation. lots of kissing. slight body worship. cr*ampie.

the need to write a part two to that hunter smut a couple of weeks ago was so strong there was no avoiding it. the hunter feels gripped me so hard they're shaking me around like a rag doll. i have never written a full smut sequence like this before, so please bear with me if it's not as perfect as i would like! i'm doing my best!

although the previous part (which is not essential to read to understand this) was written with gender-neutral pronouns, this part is with a female reader. i wanted to make sure i could actually write a scene like this since i've never done it before. gender-neutral smut is something i'd like to try in the future once i feel more comfortable writing in this style :)

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You rode the slightly odorous lift up to your apartment floor, the doors sliding open slowly once it arrived. The hallway light flickered every minute or two as you approached the door to your humble abode, your body aching after working more overtime than you should’ve stayed for. Yawning, you pressed in the code before promptly walking into the still-closed door with a thud.

You frowned, suddenly more alert. You checked the panel and saw that you had just locked your apartment, not unlocked it. Living on Coruscant – especially in an area not known for being the safest corner of the planetary city – had informally trained you to watch for your safety almost constantly. And the possibility that your door may have been unlocked by someone who may or may not be waiting inside to hurt you was a red flag.

Heart beating faster, you pressed your ear up against the door, to see if you could hear anyone and your eyes widened when you heard a faint groan coming from inside.

Panic began to course through your veins, and you debated whether or not you should call the authorities before deciding against it. They wouldn’t get here in time to be of any use, and so many crimes happened on Coruscant that you doubted anyone would even come at all.

Instead, you steeled yourself and then typed in the code again.

Save for the single lamp you always left on; the apartment was dark. The yellow light bathed the small space in a soft glow that made everything look a little less like a standard-issue Coruscanti apartment and a little more like a home. You quietly dropped your bag by the door, picked up a vase from the entryway and crept into your apartment. It was then you heard the shower running and the soft hum of a smokey tenor echo through the apartment. Your shoulders instantly relaxed.

There was only one person who would break into your apartment and take a shower.

You placed the vase down on the kitchen bench, a smile biting the corners of your mouth as you walked to your small ensuite bathroom, the humming getting louder. Your smile only got wider when you saw his armour stacked neatly next to the dresser. You could hear the hum louder from here, and your heart squeezed itself against your ribs. He was happy.

You opened the door slowly, knocking softly even though he would sense you were there as soon as the door opened. “Hunter?”

The humming stopped and Hunter’s wet head poked around the shower curtain. If he was a sight when he was dry, he was completely ethereal when wet. His hair stuck around his shoulders and neck, water dripping down his tattooed face onto his neck. He smiled out the side of his mouth, eyes bright at the sight of you. “Hey, you.”

You grinned, just as pleased to see him. “Hey. You’re back.”

“I am.”

You nodded to the steaming shower. “Can I join you?”

He wordlessly pulled back the shower curtain as his answer, revealing half of his bare muscular body. You undressed quickly, piling your clothes on top of his blacks that had been kicked near the privy before stepping in with him. Almost instantly, you were engulfed in Hunter’s arms, his wet body pressed against yours as he pushed his nose into your neck, breathing deeply.

“Someone missed me,” you smiled, hands holding his upper arms and squeezing them gently.

You felt his breath on your neck as he nuzzled his nose against your skin. It was always the first thing he did when he saw you. “You have no idea how much,” the words buzzing against your skin.

At the feel of his half-hard length pressed into your stomach, and you chuckled. “I think I can guess.”

Hunter trailed his hands down your body, nose still buried in your neck. He loved the way you smelled. Something about it drove him crazy, though you weren’t sure what it was specifically. But you’d never complain.

You felt him pull you closer, and his wet hair fell onto your shoulder as he dragged his hands up and down your thighs and hips. The water cascaded over you both, and when his hand dipped between your bodies down to the place between your legs, you tipped your head forward to rest on his shoulder as you moaned. “Hunter,” you choked out as his hand moved in slow circles there, and you felt yourself slicken at the touch.

Hunter pressed light kisses to your neck and shoulder, marking a trail up to your ear with his lips. “Been waiting for you to get back.” His voice was ragged like he’d been running, rasping out of him all breathy.

His fingers still moved slowly between you, and you whimpered before telling him quietly. “I thought someone had broken in.”

Hunter pulled back to look at you, his hand stilling as he searched your face with a crease between his brow. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Sorry, cyari’ka, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head and looked in his brown-grey eyes as steam continued to rise from the running water. “I heard a loud groan…what were you doing?”

The corner of Hunter’s mouth lifted before those eyes of his darkened. “What do you think?” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw.

You hummed. The idea of him getting off in your shower as he waited for you to come home conjured up so many salacious images in your mind you had to squeeze his arms to steady yourself. The thought of him in here, cock in his hand as he stroked himself to just your scent…it only made the arousal building inside you burn hotter.

“Couldn’t wait for me?” You croaked out.

“Kriff, no. As soon as I stepped inside you were everywhere,” he continued his kisses, sucking at your jaw. “And it only got stronger. Every breath I took you were there, inside my lungs, seeping into my skin. You know how insane you make me, and it’s been months…” He drew back and brushed his nose against yours. “Are you mad?”

“God, no,” you breathed against his lips.

“Good.”

Hunter finally kisses your mouth then. His mouth slants over yours and it’s impossible not to moan into it. His tongue moves over your lips and slides against yours. To think when you met him, he had no idea how to kiss and now he knew the inside of your mouth better than you did.

He groaned into the kiss, and you knew his senses were in overdrive right now, the hot wet of your mouth only driving him crazier. He pushed you back against the tile, his solid body trapping you between the cool of the tile and the heat of his skin. His hands gripped your hips as you snaked one leg around his. With his now hard length pressing between you, it was so close to where you needed it. You arched into him, the need to have him as close as humanly possible so intense you could comprehend nothing but Hunter’s kisses and hands as he did everything he could to consume every part of you. Your only thought was how badly you wanted him to.

You had missed him too, after all.

Your hands went into his hair, tugging at the wet strands as he continued to explore your mouth. He broke away but only to resume his kisses down your neck, his tongue lolling out to lick the skin and the droplets of water in between the kisses. Steam from the water clouded your vision, or was that because of the sensation of Hunter’s hands against you? You didn’t know. You moaned as his kisses travelled down your torso.

“Hunter,” you choked out as you watched him lower to his knees in front of you.

“Missed you so much,” he said again, the words vibrating against your skin.

You caressed his temple with your thumb. “I missed you.”

He groaned loudly against the skin of your stomach. “You smell incredible.”

You whimpered, so incredibly turned on as he moved his mouth down, his lips dragging across your skin, and you watched him descend lower, his eyes half closed and rolling back. You could see just how hard he was, up against his stomach. The water continued to flow down his shoulders and half-tattooed torso, down into the hair that covered most of his front.

You raked your fingers through his hair, nails against his scalp and you felt his moan on your stomach, and the sound ignited your insides with desire. It felt like your whole body was electrified, pulsing with need and he’d barely even done anything.

“Hunter, more, please,” you breathed out.

Hunter didn’t need to be told twice. He groaned, standing up and shutting the water off as he kissed you once more. He pulled back, sliding the shower curtain roughly across its pole before picking you up effortlessly. Your arms and legs went around him as he buried his nose in your neck again as he walked to your bed, both of you still dripping wet but neither of you caring enough to do anything about it.

Hunter lay you down gently, moving you up to the pillows as he climbed on top of you. His hair fell forward, dripping onto your chest and he leaned down to suck the droplets off your skin.

You moaned as his mouth travelled to your neck again, kissing you there, his lips sucking gently, and you knew there would be a nice mark there tomorrow that you would grumble about trying to cover for work. But right now, the idea of him laying a claim to you made every nerve ending in your body tingle, especially the ones between your legs.

His lips then made their way to your chest, and he moved to one breast, taking the nipple between his teeth, making you whine before he circled his tongue around it, sucking gently. Your back arched off the bed and you felt his hand slide underneath you, between your shoulder blades, drawing you into his mouth more. He sucked gently, then moved on to the other one, repeating the same ministrations with his tongue.

You panted, mewling with every pinch of his teeth grazing your nipple. He was taking his time with you, as usual, savouring every single part of you. You knew he’d be tired after spending months completing gruelling missions, but he was still eager to pleasure you slowly, work you up until you were begging for a release only he could give.

Exhausted, but never for you.

He released your breast, wetness from his mouth glistening the peak in the dim light. He continued down once again, leaving open-mouthed kisses as he lowered himself between your legs.

He looked up at you, eyes dark with want before he sat back on his heels to spread your legs a little wider, holding the inside of your thighs down with his hands. His thumbs circled the soft skin there as he gazed at you all spread out for him.

He looked beautiful like his. His brown skin illuminated only by the light that managed to creep through the blinds, his tattoo etched down one side of his body which still shined with the water from the shower. His cock was so hard with need, precum already pooling at the tip – you’ve barely even touched him. He was just worked up over touching you, breathing you in. He was average in length, but his thickness set him apart from any other sexual partner you’ve had. You ached to feel it inside you, but if he was taking his sweet time with you, it would be a while before you felt him stretch you.

Hunter was nothing if not thorough.

“Hunter…” you whined, sitting up on your elbows.

“Look so pretty like this,” he told you, not an ounce of insincerity in his tone as he crept down to his elbows, arms wrapping under and around your thighs as he pushed his nose against your centre. He breathed in deeply, and the groan that erupted from the back of his throat buzzed against your core.

“So good…” he murmured as he pushed his nose against your clit, making you jerk. He placed a kiss there before gently bringing it into his mouth to suck. You cry out, hips bucking up into his nose and he moans again before his mouth finally moves over you completely.

You arch your back off the bed as his tongue moves artfully against you. The sensation continued to stoke the fire that had been building the minute he wrapped his arms around you in the shower. You moved your hands to his hair, clutching the roots with your fingers and pushing him closer as he licked and sucked like a man starved. And in a way he was. Your hand was no substitute for this. He licked a line up, before bringing his lips around the bud again and sucking gently. You couldn’t think about anything but his hot mouth and tongue against you. You ground into his mouth, needing more friction as the pleasure began to build in your belly, coiling in hot spirals as Hunter continued. He groaned into you through his ministrations, and when he felt you clench on his tongue, he pulled you impossibly closer to his mouth as he moved his tongue faster. Your breaths filled the room, pants loud and moans echoing in the space. You could feel the mattress move underneath you and you looked down at him with hooded eyes to see him rutting against the mattress, getting off to the pleasure he was giving you.

“Hunter, please, I’m so—” Your words were barely audible, but Hunter knew what you meant as he pressed his tongue harder against you, bringing your clit into his mouth and sucking one more time, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. You cried out, the band inside you snapping as pleasure erupted.

Your back arched and you cried out his name like it was an incantation, over and over as he continued to move his tongue through your undoing, groaning against you as you came all over his tongue. Your hands tight in his hair, you tugged as you shuddered underneath him until the tremors slowed, and you lay breathless, limbs heavy. You looked down at him as he emerged from between your legs, mouth glistening with your come, coating his lips and chin. He licked his lips and groaned. The sight of it was so obscene you felt your body flush.

“Good girl,” he told you before he climbed over you, capturing your mouth in a kiss. You could taste yourself in his mouth and you moaned at the way his fingers briefly dipped inside you. “So good for me,” he told you against your lips. “Always so good.”

“Need you inside me,” you mumbled back.

Hunter groaned and you watched as he drew back to lean on his heels again, using the fingers he’d just brushed through your folds to lubricate his length. He hissed as he circled the tip and down the shaft before he coated his fingers again and slid them in his mouth, sucking them gently with his eyes closed, savouring the taste. You watched him, mesmerised.

Was this man really yours?

He positioned himself at your entrance, holding himself above you with strong arms, face over yours. His eyes were so intense, their brown-grey colour boring into you. He gave you a look, one that differed from the wanting gaze he’d been giving you. This look was one of tenderness, one that asked if you were still good – still okay with this. You nodded and he pressed his lips against yours once more before he eased himself inside you.

You gasped as you stretched around him, clawing at his shoulders as you locked your legs around his. He groaned as he bottomed out, filling you completely. He caught his breath and when you clenched around him, he made a choking sound, swearing.

“Been too long,” he whispered.

“Too long,” you repeated before he drew himself back out slowly. He pushed his nose into your shoulder again as he groaned loudly. Then he slowly began thrusting, the sounds of your moans and groans filling the room, along with the indecent sound of his skin hitting yours as his movements increased in speed.

“Hunter,” you moaned his name, and he groaned in response. His hands found your hips and he adjusted his position so he could reach deeper, and he continued to roll his hips against you, your hands clutching at his forearms as the headboard hit the wall repeatedly.

Sex with Hunter always felt amazing. Full of the kind of passion that almost didn’t feel real. It was full of moans and groans and tantalising touches that built you up and up so when you finally let go, the fall felt so good it was almost immeasurable. It was filled with kisses and though he wasn’t much of a talker, he would whisper how good you felt against him. No matter how rough he was being, you felt safe in his hands and cared for – he made sure of that. Being in the throes of pleasure with Hunter was an all-consuming feeling for you both, one that you relished whenever you got the chance. His time home was so fleeting, that anything you could both do to tell each other how much you missed the other, how much you loved the other, you would do. Later, you would use your words. But right now, your bodies spoke instead; each press, clench, shudder, whimper, and groan said the words for you both.

You could feel those familiar hot coils building again each time he buried himself in you, and you could feel his movements falter slightly as he came closer to his own release. He’d come up from your neck again and you looked up at him, mouth agape as his hair, now half dry, fell over his handsome face and the curled ends tickled your cheeks. You reached up and placed some behind his ear, hand cupping his jaw.

“Hunter—”

Hunter nodded quickly, eyes dark and pupils blown. “I know.”

Of course, he did. His senses were so in tune with your body he could feel the subtle changes of your arousal and smell the way your body was on the precipice of falling.

Hunter’s hands held your hips and the headboard, and he rocked himself into you, faster this time. He panted, a husky noise from the back of his throat sounding with each thrust as he brought you closer. You rasped out a string of yeses as the sensation that had been building rose to its peak. You locked your legs around his thighs, clawing at his back as you clenched hard around him, crying out.

Your back arched into him, fingernails forming crescent moon carvings in the skin of his arms as you shuddered against him. His name fell from your lips as you writhed underneath him, riding out your orgasm as he continued to sink into you on the verge of overstimulation.

“Come on, cyare,” you whispered to him as you were still trembling. "Still got my implant."

It wasn’t a second later until he gave a ragged cry as he stilled, spilling inside you. His eyes screwed shut and his teeth gritted as he groaned loudly – the way you had heard him through the apartment door before. Half collapsing on top of you, he pushed his face into your shoulder again, this time biting the skin there as his thrusts became languid, drawing out as much of his release as possible. You hissed as his teeth claimed your skin, but no matter how worked up Hunter was, he always made sure his bites weren’t too hard.

When Hunter’s shudders stopped, both of you caught your breath. You could feel his breath tickle your shoulder, and this was the first time since you’d been home that you registered the familiar musky smell of his skin. You smiled and kissed his shoulder while he was still on top of you, the tangy taste of his sweat on your lips.

Hunter slowly emerged from your shoulder and looked down at you, eyelids heavy and hair all tangled. You smiled, still dazed, and reached up to push it out of his face, tucking it behind his ear again. He smiled warmly at you before kissing the inside of your wrist.

He hissed as he pulled out of you, and the loss of him down there was so prominent you felt an ache. Hunter rolled off you and lay beside you on his stomach for a minute, his eyes drooping shut for a moment before he forced them open again.

“Hang on,” he said and kissed your shoulder lightly before pushing himself up and heading into the bathroom. You giggled as you heard the cupboard door open and shut before the tap turned on. You turned on your side, still half-limp, watching him wet a towel and then re-enter the room.

He sat next to you as he wiped between your legs sleepily, the warm towel a gentle caress on your skin before he placed it on the bedside table and lay down next to you.

You smiled and pulled the covers back so you could get under them together. They were damp from your hasty decision to not dry off beforehand, but they would dry as you slept. You watched as Hunter nestled himself in the mattress, eyes closing, but when you didn’t move closer to him immediately, he peeked an eye open. He reached out to you under the covers, with a frown.

“Come,” he said, his voice thick with exhaustion.

“I did. Twice,” you smirked as you let his hands circle your arms and pull you in closer.

“Shuddup,” he slurred, but he still smiled, kissing your temple as he tucked you against his chest. You breathed in the scent of him as you rested your head on him.

You chuckled. “You smell like me.”

“Good. Need to smell like you forever,” he pushed his nose in your hair, taking a deep breath in. “What is the name of this soap, anyway? Gonna place an order.”

You laughed. You loved he was like this – all soft and sleepy after you’d come together. It was a side only you saw, the shedding of that broody exterior he reserved for his service to reveal the tenderness that was a secret for your eyes only. “I think it’s generic brand vanilla and starflower.”

“Smells fucking incredible,” Hunter mumbled, making you laugh again. You kissed his chest and after a moment of silence where all you did was breathe together, he said, “You okay? I didn’t plan to do all that the second I saw you.”

You smiled. No matter how exhausted he was, he always had to check in with you.

“I’m really, really okay, Hunter,” you told him. “There are worse ways to be greeted upon returning home.”

“I at least wanted one conversation with you before I had my way with you,” Hunter murmured in your skin, kissing your shoulder again, this time where he had bitten you, his lips soothing the slight ache there.

“Talking is overrated,” you joked with a shrug, snuggling into his chest. You felt it thrum with a deep chuckle. He knew you loved to hear him talk.

“Tomorrow, we can talk. I have so much to tell you,” he breathed, lips brushing your temple.

You smiled. “Me too. Tomorrow.” You patted his chest gently. “Sleep now, cyare. I know you’re exhausted.”

Hunter hummed, on the cusp of slumber. “Tomorrow.” You felt his body relax. “Love you, cyare,” he mumbled into your hair.

You heard his breathing become deep and even, his chest rising and falling, his heartbeat steady against your palms. You smiled, closing your eyes. “Love you more.”

banner art by @vimse thank you for reading! <3 again, this is my first time writing a full smut scene like this so feedback (delivered kindly) is really appreciated!!

🏷️ @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @chopper-base @wenalena @shredderwest @leavingkamino @r2d2staser @beckbucket @pb-jellybeans @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo @ezras-left-thumb @lovelycurls @fruitsaladtree @literallydontlook

TAGLIST FORM

if you're a regular on my tag list but haven't been tagged, it's bc your age isn't in your bio/have said you prefer sfw fics.

[thesandyhooktragedy]

was adam lanza a pedophile?

this is a topic of hot debate. personally i don’t believe it add or subtracts much from his case, but nevertheless people love to discuss it. so let’s discuss!

why do people think he’s a pedophile in the first place? from a young age, lanza had a fascination with violence against children. in elementary school, lanza wrote several stories featuring violence against children.

later in life, lanza would write a 35-page essay defending pedophilia as part of his college application. in this essay, lanza postulated that pedophile rights were part of the “liberation of children”, and that children should be able to make decisions as adults would. lanza also stated that he believed an “adult-child relationship” could be “beneficial for both parties”.

lanza would expand on this essay on his youtube channel, CulturalPhilistine, in an 8 part series titled “On pedophiles and children”. the transcripts for these videos can be found here

after lanza’s attack on Sandy Hook, police would find notes and basic sketches of scenes for a play called “Lovebound”, written by lanza, on his hard drive. the play would depict a relationship between a 10-year-old boy and a 30-year-old man.

many users of the forum that lanza was on, Shocked Beyond Belief, seemed to have an impression of him that included him having an attraction to children.

(full sources of picture one and three can be found here and here! these specific screenshots were found from a post by lanzagf.)

so, was he a pedophile? we have no definitive way of knowing, and there’s an equal amount of evidence suggesting that he wasn’t one. when police searched lanza’s hard drive, they found no sexual content featuring children.

it’s well known that lanza was an odd man all around, so perhaps his fascination with violence against children simply came from his “antinatalism” and general violent thoughts rather than an actual attraction to children. maybe the impression that other SBB users had of him came from his awkward personality.

the biggest question, i think, is does it matter?

an article published by the Connecticut Post puts it best—

Dr. Charles Herrick, the head of psychiatry at Danbury Hospital, said it is difficult with the information released to date to know if Lanza's interest in pedophilia had any influence on his behavior.

"The material related to his obsession with mass shootings is far more compelling about what is driving his behavior," he said.

although pedophilia could be a possible motivator of lanza’s attack on Sandy Hook, his fascination with mass shootings—something which appears to be a trend in a lot of mass shooters—is far more relevant. however, the Connecticut Post’s article offers an explanation on how lanza being a pedophile could’ve motivated him to attack Sandy Hook.

[Dr. Fred] Berlin said one could speculate that Lanza, if he had pedophilia tendencies, could have targeted the elementary school in an attempt to eliminate temptation.

"The idea is that someone who has a strong desire for something and they're forbidden to act upon it, they can be angry at the source of temptation," he said. "It's not unreasonable, given what happened. There must have been a tremendous amount of rage inside of him."

as i stated, there’s no definitive way of knowing whether or not adam lanza was a pedophile. either way, i don’t believe it adds or subtracts much from his case, as it does little to change much about his moral character. i don’t believe there’s any point in arguing about something that only serves to make a tragedy more disturbing.

what do you think? was adam lanza a pedophile or not?

[beetlejuice-e]

DEALER — ELLIE WILLIAMS ͏ 🚸 𖥨᩠ׄ݁🌘

pairing — toxic! ellie x reader

synopsis — ellie can’t seem to leave you alone reaching out to you months later after no contact

warnings — manipulation,, fed up reader,, micro cheating,, gaslighting,, stupid reader,, mentions of stalking,, crazy ellie. suggestive content.

authors note — @mousymaven requested this awhile ago and i’m just now getting to it hope you enjoy! first time actually writing a whole drabble and not just text posts

word count — 2.3k

lower case intended!

— ellie did not leave. in fact she would stay at your house all night if she had too. she was going to see you one way or another.

you felt a wave of anger wash over you, why was she doing this after all that time. it had been a little over 3 years since you’ve left ellie to basically rot. you were done with her for good and she knew that.

things didn’t end well between you two, obviously. ellie put up more of a fight than you did but it didn’t work. there wasn’t anymore fight left in you. the woman did more damage than she imagined, she physically and mentally drained you of what you had left.

sure your relationship was great and you loved her dearly but she didn’t. she was never any of those things to you. she was never loving or caring. all she cared about was dealing and getting high. missing out on date nights and anniversaries just to make a couple of dollars she wouldn’t even think about sending on you and when mentioning it to her she’d say “i’ll get you something next time.” whenever next time came around it was the same answer. you were sick of it.

it was the middle of your shift when you got the text from the unknown number who turned out to be ellie and honestly it made you sick to your stomach. you were at the happiest point in your life and she ruined it just like that. you managed to finish all of your work before you went home to kill ellie.

not understanding her motive and why she was doing all of this. you lied about calling the cops just to see if she would go away which she didn’t. still stubborn after so long, she wasn’t happy you moved on. that would be HER and not some other woman.

ellie managed to make her way inside your home, it was different from the last apartment the one you both lived in together. way more security and locks on it. she liked that you were scared of her now. it gave her a sense of power.

nothing changed about the way you lived. every thing had to be cleaned up and organized just the way you wanted. that drove her crazy when the two of you were still together. she couldn’t let go of you. she couldn’t you were everything she needed and deserved in a relationship.

you’d be home any minute and she couldn’t risk being seen first thing when you called in she wanted it to be a surprise. after a few minutes of walking around she found your bedroom which looked pretty cute. it seemed like you got rid of all of the stuff that reminded you of her which made her upset. picking up a few of the items on your dresser like a picture of you and your new girlfriend disgusted her, she still respected you a lot so she didn’t throw it away like she wanted too. she searched through your clothes all of her favorite things she liked on you still in your wardrobe. out of the corner of her eye she saw a bottle of perfume that looked all too familiar and this stopped her in her tracks. dropping the piece of clothing out of her hand she basically flew over to the dresser and picked up the bottle. rose milano her favorite scent on you out of all of the perfumes you own. she could feel herself getting more and more excited about seeing you. spraying on a few spritz of the perfume she set it back in the exact spot so you could suspect anything.

meanwhile…

after some debating with yourself in your head you made the decision to go home, hoping and praying on the way that ellie lied about being at your house. it was about a 20 minute drive to get home and the whole time you were filling up with anxiety. you didn’t know if you could face ellie especially not after all she’s put you through.

you were now on the road to your house and from the looks of it there seemed to be no sign of ellie being there. a sigh of relief escaped from your mouth as you parked your car in the driveway. you took your nice little time to grab your bags out of the car while ellie hide somewhere off into your closet.

it took you awhile to lug all of your bags out of the car and into your house so ellie was getting a bit impatient. before you unlocked the door she managed to make it in the living room so you could see her first thing when you walked in. screw the hiding she wanted to see you right away. turning the key in the door you stepped inside. ellie could feel herself getting more and more excited as you stepped into the doorway.

usually all of the lights in the house are off before you leave so you didn't think anything of it when you say most of the nights on when you stepped inside. out of the corner of your eye you saw a figure sitting on your couch. ellie. letting out a blood curdling scream you tossed what you had in your hands at her, you were sure the entire neighborhood heard you scream that's how loud it was. all ellie did was laugh, she found this funny. the look on your face was priceless, obviously you didn't believe she'd be here and here she was...in your house looking way too hot.

"why are you in my house?" you asked through gritted teeth, this only caused ellie to roll her eyes. why are you acting confused? she said she would be at your house. 'you didn't miss me baby?" she asked pushing the bag to the side and standing up from the couch and making her way over to you. she was now towering over you, feeling her breathe on your face. the smell of mint fresh gum and the only strand of weed she smoke indica.

"no i didn't miss you get out of my house or i'm calling the cops" you spoke to her so harshly it actually hurt her feelings. pushing past her you went off into your roman basically barricaded yourself inside. you couldn’t face her, not now. seeing her made you feel sick.

ellie couldn’t believe this, you were being so dramatic.

she followed after you once you ran away and leaned against the door being able to hear your loud breathing by putting her ear to the door. it made her think of something else.

“baby please open the door i wanna see you.”

“i don’t go away ellie!” you screamed once again. “why the fuck would you show up to my house when i told you not too? do you have horrible comprehension skills or something.”

“i wanted to see you why is that so hard for you understand? just open the door for me please?” she asked softly and this caused you to cave. you hesitated before opening the door to see ellie with a big ass grin on her face.

“don’t make me regret this.” you rolled you eyes and went towards your bedside getting your bags down on the bed.

“you won’t i swear.” ellie shook her head and watched as you walked over to your bed. over the course of 2 years she would tell you were eating your rice and cabbage because my god. it wasn’t her goal to come over and win you over but man was she considering it now. she stayed quiet while you unpacked you things and just watched you.

once she was sure you were finished she sat down on the bed and pulled you down to sit on her lap. “i missed you so much y/n.” she spoke rubbing your upper arm with her thumb. she stared for a good while and it kinda creeped you out. as much as you hated her you couldn’t deny how good she looked.

“i can’t believe you’ve been letting like bitch have what’s mine you should be reallyyyyy ashamed of yourself you know that right?” she asked landing a firm smack on your ass.

“i’m not agreeing with you if that’s what you think.” you spoke getting up from her lap before she forced you back onto it. “ellie can you stop im trying to get in the shower.”

“you can shower later, let’s smoke.” she said gently pushing you off of her lap so she could get up. standing up she went over near your closet and found the blunts she dropped while hiding in your closet. “dropped these while i was hiding oops.”

you stared at her blankly and shook her head. “i don’t like you.” you said heading over to your closet and pushing her out of the way. you found some clothes to change into since you didn’t wanna smoke in your work clothes.

“wanna try this new strand i made?” ellie asked basically ignoring you as she plopped back down onto the bed. fumbling around her carabiner she took the lighter off of it and lit the blunt. taking a hit she watched as you slipped out of your work clothes. it was like you were doing these things on purpose. it was like you didn’t want her to leave.

“do you walk around the house like that when she’s here?” she asked patting her lap so you could sit down on it again. “well it’s my house so yes why?”“don’t.” she spoke blowing the smoke from her mouth. “don’t what?” you asked pulling the bonnet over your hair. “don’t walk around like that when she’s here.” she laughed in her face and sat down on the bed beside her. “you sounds ridiculous…it’s my house ellie i can do what i want, she’s my girlfriend she likes it.”

ellie groaned. she didn’t like that you moved on. “why do you call her that?”ellie groaned. she didn’t like that you moved on. “why do you call her that?” she asked. “my girlfriend? because that’s what she is, i think you need to stop smoking seriously it’s making you dumb.” you said grabbing the blunt away from her and taking a hit for yourself. it was a lot stronger than you remember so you went into a coughing fit.

it’s not like she’s going to be for long.” this made you get yourself together because what did she mean by that. “what do you mean by that?” you asked leaning over to grab your phone from the dresser. “she’s not gonna be your girlfriend for long because i’m here obviously. you don’t really live here you’re just using her to heal from me duhhh.” you shook your head at this statement because it was far from the truth. you were over ellie. you’ve been over ellie for awhile now and you were sure she was just saying this to get in your head which was working.

“everything you say is bullshit did you know that?” ellie smacked her teeth. “it’s not bullshit if you know it’s true. you don’t love her, you’ll always run back to me and you know that so why not just leave her?”“why would i leave her? she’s not like you ellie she actually treats me right” you sighed and took another hit from the blunt. you knew ellie was right but would never admit that she would take that and try to use it against you anytime she could. “i treated you good, that’s a damn lie.” you rolled your eyes at this because that was a lie and she knew that. “right…”

“look i didn’t come over here to talk to you about that. now can you come here why are you all the way over there? are you scared of me or something?” she asked inching closer and closer to you. you didn’t know if it was the weed but she really made you feel some time of way. she was addicting.

“why would i be scared of you ellie? you aren’t that threatening..” you shook your head and moved away from her just to see how she’d react. she huffed and gripped onto your thigh pulling you closer to her. grabbing the blunt from your hand she put it out and set it on the dresser. now hovering over you she leaned down so she was now in your face.

“ok so what’s up the i don’t care attitude then?” she asked. now breathing on your face. you knew not to look at her because you’d fold. grabbing your face she made you look at her. “i asked you a question answer it.”

“maybe i just don’t care, have you thought about that?” you asked staring up at her. “can you not be a smart ass right now?” she rolled her eyes and rubbed on your cheeks. “you look so cute like this.”

groaning you pushed her off of you. she was being ridiculous and she knew that. “dude get out of my house you’re annoying.” she laughed at this because she knew you liked it just but the way you were looking at her. “don’t be like that. i’m sorry i swear.” she said still laughing at you. she hovered over you once again and placed soft kisses on your lips, she stopped after the 7th kiss and looked down at you. “see im sorry do you forgive me?”

you had to shake your head to pretend like that didn’t happen. you had a girlfriend you loved dearly but ellie kissing you made you miss this. you missed the feeling you had when you were with her. your girlfriend didn’t give you the feeling ellie did. the adrenaline. the guilt. it was wrong. you knew that but you always. always. found your way back to ellie.

sighing you sat up and ran your hands down your face. “yes i forgive you, ellie” you smiled and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

tags — @beforeimdeceased @abbysvictim

[bbina]

content warning: smoking & drinking lol

you don't know how long you've been walking around aimlessly inside the convenience store, debating on what you need to fill the void you feel deep inside

for the first time in a long while, you couldn't pin point what you were feeling. is it rage? is it anguish? is it longing? you don't know

after giving it much thought (though you've been going over it the whole time you were on the way to the convenience store), you take a deep breath before grabbing a couple of cans of beer before heading towards the cash register

"a pack of cigarettes too, please" you tell the cashier, putting down the cans of beer on the counter

as your items were being checked out on the cash register, you slowly start to feel a little guilty over your decision on getting a pack of cigarettes. you've made a promise to both karina and giselle that you'd stop smoking a little while ago but here you were, about to start your vice again

"have a nice night" the cashier bows, breaking your train of thought. you gave the cashier a little smile, taking your plastic bag before walking out the store

it was raining. you thought the weather couldn't be more perfect to match what you were feeling

luckily the convenience store had umbrellas on their outdoor tables.

perfect. this was all you need right now

you settled onto one of the tables before unpacking whatever you bought inside. couple of cans of beer, some junk food to snack on and of course, your cigarettes

what better way to express your emotions by pigging out on a rainy friday night alone with your thoughts

. . .ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

the sound of the rain pattering around you felt comforting in a sense. you were merely alone with your own cloudy thoughts as you try to navigate through this heartbreak of yours

you don't even know what time it was. you turned your phone off after posting on your instagram story. not wanting to be bothered for the mean time. for tonight, you just wanted some actual alone time. you forced yourself to head out because if you were in bed right now, you would've been a mess

your ex having a new partner in such short notice shouldn't affect you like this but it's affecting you greater than you expected

there was that feeling again. where it felt like your body was telling you to crave it. maybe you are craving it– no scratch that. you need it

swallowing the lump on your throat, you fish out the little red box you know all too well

you've never felt more alive when you felt the addictive substance fill your lungs for the first time in a long while. with each puff you take, the more you feel the weight on your shoulders are temporarily lifted. at some point, you felt tears prick your eyes as you let yourself be consumed with what you truly feel inside

you are starting to get exhausted of keeping up the act of being okay when you weren't fine at all

“a pretty lady like you shouldn’t be smoking”

a voice speaks up, causing you to jolt and drop your cigarette on the wet ground.

you didn't even realize you had tears running down your face til that voice breaks your deep trance. quickly, you wiped your tears before looking around to find where the voice came from

on your left, you see a man who seemed to be around your age. you couldn't really tell since he had a hat on and the fact he was wearing glasses

you take a good look at the man before spotting a cigarette on his hand

"i could say the same about you" you scoffed, turning back around to get another stick from the cigarette box but something in you stops yourself from doing so

"you're calling me pretty too?" the man jokes, walking up to your table. his hand then rests on the backrest of the chair in front of you, "may i sit with you?"

you nod your head yes. for some reason you didn't feel any sense of danger whatsoever but maybe you were just too caught up in the feels to even realize that you may or may not have invited someone you're not supposed to, to sit with you

the man hums and sits down in front of you. now that the man was up and close and personal, you then recognize who he was.

it was wonbin, in the flesh

your eyes widened upon the realization. oh my fucking god, you thought to yourself. you start to hide your face with your hair, in attempt to hide your identity from wonbin

wonbin takes a hit off his cigarette before raising an eyebrow at your odd behavior. why were you hiding all of a sudden?

"why are you hiding your face?" he asks, making small talk, "it's okay to cry, i don't judge"

you stopped rummaging your hair in attempt to hide your face when you hear his comment. did he just assume you were crying and that's why you were hiding your face from him. you tuck your hair away from your face before answering him all sassily

"i wasn't crying" you deny, "what made you say that? were you watching me?" you sass

wonbin seemed to be flustered by your sudden accusation as he suddenly started choking on his own spit, sending him into a coughing fit

as he was choking in front of you, you could only offer your half empty can of beer. wonbin quickly grabbed the can and gulps down the liquor in attempt to calm himself down

"what the fuck" wonbin grimaces, wiping his mouth with his jacket sleeve, "i wasn't! i just noticed you drinking all alone so i thought you were going through something, damn!"

now it was your turn to be flustered. wonbin didn't mean harm. he was just stating what he witnessed. besides, he wasn't wrong. you are going through something at the moment and that's why you are in fact drinking alone

"actually you know what, yeah you're right. i was crying" you admit, slumping back on the chair "and i am going through something. nice eyes you've got there"

wonbin's mouth falls open in shock. he wasn't expecting to be literally right on the dot. now feels a little embarrassed for pointing out something he shouldn't have

"oh, i'm sorry-" wonbin starts to apologize but you cut him off by shaking your hands in front of him

"no don't apologize. you didn't know" you let out a small laugh, "it's fine"

"are you sure? i didn't mean to be rude. it was just a random speculation and i didn't mean to intrude that way" wonbin rambles, feeling genuinely sorry about it

"i told you it's fine" you wave him off, "anyway enough about me. what about you? what are you doing here on a rainy night?"

now it was your turn to ask him

wonbin purses his lips and thinks for a moment before answering you

"nothing. got a lot in my mind so i just wanted to clear my head" he replies curtly. throwing his now finished cigarette on the ground before stepping on it

you nod, empathizing with him. you too also wanted to clear your head

"guess we're on the same boat here" you chuckle, "love sucks ass"

wonbin's ears perk up at the mention of love before he starts laughing too. "you're abso-fucking-lutely right"

before you know it, you and wonbin started slowly opening up about your recent problems to each other after coming to a realization that you two were in fact going through similar things

wonbin was currently ranting about how unfair his life has been at the moment, you checked your phone for the time and wow it was already almost 5 AM

"oh my god" you say outloud, unknowingly interrupting wonbin. wonbin pauses and waits for you to continue, "i'm so sorry for interrupting but i just realized it's almost 5 AM" you say, showing wonbin your phone

wonbin's eyes widened and checked his own phone. "oh shit we've been talking all night"

you let out a nervous laugh when you read through your notifications that karina, giselle and seunghan bombarded. all saying along the lines of "where are you" "reply"

you are so dead

"i'm really sorry for cutting you off but i think it's time to take my leave. my friends are looking for me" you clasp your hands together as you bow in front of wonbin, apologizing for leaving so abruptly

wonbin only laughs and agrees that it was time to leave as well

"then it looks like it's time for me to take my leave." wonbin starts to stand up but then he holds his hand out, "thanks for listening to me by the way. feels like some weight has been lifted off my shoulders" he smiles genuinely

you take a second to look between his hand and his face before gradually taking in his hand, shaking it

"well, it did seem like we both needed someone to talk to without the feeling of being judged"

wonbin laughs, "agreed."

you take your trash and disposed them properly. before you could bid goodbye, wonbin had already left

you then realized that you two forgot to introduce yourselves but you actually feel a little relieved that you didn't. if anything, being strangers to one another that had a heart to heart talk just seemed surreal and needed in that moment.

like what were the odds of you two meeting each other at this random convenience store because of a shared common factor which was love?

you don't know why, but you had a strange feeling that you'd be seeing him around more soon

alone together ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 . . . love sucks

── taking comfort in the thought that you are together in aloneness through late night talks, heartfelt confessions, and a genuine connection. with your shared experience of recent heartbreaks, you wonder if getting together would be all worth it. in which you find solace in each other's company, that you are alone together.

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꩜ notes .ᐟ FINALLY they met. first written piece in a long ass time, so sorry if i'm a little rusty!

꩜ taglist .ᐟ @onlywonb @rosesfortaro @starwonb1n @wonychu @totheseok @dolloie @hyunjinsnumberonefun @binluvsu @onlyhyunjin @annswwa @wonbinsvlle @hakkkuu @ilovejungwonandhaechan @artstaeh @lecheugo @odxrilove @bunni @saranghoeforanton @nujeskz @nakam00t @kyusqult @nctsshoes2 @revehosh @s9nwoo @daegale @palchokitty @dutifullyannoyingfox @oshakyao @koryutte @b-riize @meowbini @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @winuvs @i03jae @seouci @enhacolor @leehanascent @sweetiejaeyun @dearestjake @cupidslovearrows @sasfransisco

[pillowbugs]

idea: submas au(?) where pre-battle subway, both of them were already somewhat known on the internet, but for different reasons. maybe not super famous, but definitely notable in their various circles.

let's say emmet has a blog / vlog (iamemmet) where he and a couple friends (elesa, burgh, etc) just mess around and battle and stuff (think online / showdown battle videos on yt except they're actually irl). he does talk about trains sometimes, and is visibly excited whenever he does, but most of his fans are there to watch him battle more than anything.

meanwhile, ingo runs a train blog (Conductor I) where he posts long and detailed writeups of virtually anything to do with trains. he is known to be quite passionate, and has gotten into various extremely heated arguments with other railfans on internet forums over the merits of certain trains and railfan etiquette. maybe he collabs with other blogs covering other topics run by his friends (e.g. trains vs planes annual debate feat. highflyinggirl (skyla), starlight express review feat. spectralscribe (shauntal), etc). overall, though, he's fairly guarded regarding his personal life, and most of what people know about him, excluding his train-related opinions, is from whenever he collabs with other people.

they have collaborated with each other before, so people absolutely know they're twins. there is a running joke about how emmet's fans might actually know more about ingo than his own fans, simply because emmet is much more open with his personal life and inevitably that includes a lot of stuff involving his brother.

so one day, they both announce that they're taking an indefinite hiatus from their blogs because of a project. after almost a year of speculation - oh, look, there's a new battle facility in unova! wait, these guys look familiar... and it does happen to be a facility integrated into the subway...

so of course, their existing fans congratulate both of them on their new positions, everyone's celebrating. both of them do return to posting on their blogs after things have settled a bit more (albeit less frequently than before the hiatus, because they have a job now). however, with their newfound mainstream fame, comes a gigantic new wave of fans from the battle subway.

and this is where things get incredibly messy within the fandom. maybe less so on emmet's end - he's quite open on his blog about being a subway boss, and vice versa, and he acts more or less the same way on both accounts, so within his fanbase, the question is just "when did you find him?" because he's been the same throughout. he is emmet. that's it. though, there is of course still a bit of fan elitism from those who found him before the subway and know all the "deep lore" about him.

ingo's fanbase, however, is an absolute bloodbath. there are actual factions. the two most notorious are the subway-onlies, the ones who are most likely to be called fake fans by the rest because they're only interested in his persona as a subway boss; and the conductor purists, who only enjoy his blog and forum presence but not his irl job, and think he has gone downhill after achieving mainstream success. in fact, many of the subway-onlies don't even realise ingo has a 'personal' blog, or any social media presence besides his official account as a subway boss, while the most diehard conductor purists have disavowed the battle subway because in their minds, it's taking attention away from the blog.

a big reason for the divide is that ingo gives a very different image on his blog and as a subway boss; a passionate, friendly railfan who can be quite verbose especially in roasting people online, versus the professional, polite facility head with a serious demeanour. many fans who found him through the subway are surprised at the content of his blog, even if most of them also love seeing this side of him. a certain subset of the fandom is very insistent that the blog shows his 'real' personality, while his being a subway boss is entirely an act.

in short, big fanbase = problems. many people looking in are genuinely terrified and confused as to whatever the hell is going on in there. there is Drama. get the popcorn.

[ladyloveroll]

(These are my ACTUAL notes from my friends birthday party full of people who absolutely did not know who the fuck Itachi and Kisame were or how pairing names work or what a ship is.)

Writing kisaita (on and off) for 15 years

Never get tired of the ship

Excellent, friendly people in the fandom to keep making content (Cynni)

Presentation is less about the specific ship and more about the general qualities that make their ship S-tier. You may find this echoed in your own OTP, IDK.

Powerful, badass characters who can kick anyones asses no problem, as depicted where they are casually taking a stroll after Kisame (who still has his little fo-hawk) casually takes down the four-tails

Kisame is noted as the ‘tail-less jinchuuriki’

Itachi is clearly a fucking powerhouse, we don’t need to debate that

Working with strong characters means you are more easily able to portray their weakness and explore that side of them since that rarely gets screentime

Auxiliary, not main characters

Main characters are harder to write because they spend a lot of screen time accomplishing their goal and doing Plot

Auxiliary characters are more malleable, and morally gray ones especially so

Depicted here are Itachi and Kisame, separately, being ordered by their villages to kill their own people. They carry this order out, but do not particularly like it. Nor are they particularly loyal to their own villages, despite carrying this order out. It’s hard to say where their loyalities lie.

The answer is WITH EACH OTHER OBVIOUSLY

Any ship that has a timeskip has LOADS of canon-verse material you can work with, especially if it feels like the characters have changed or their dynamic has changed.

For Naruto especially, WTF are Kisame and Itachi doing for three years? Clearly neither of them are out capturing jinchuriki. They aren’t seen lounging around Amegakure or Akatsuki headquarters. They are just traveling the world. Probably doing hits. Probably hitting on EACH OTHER WOOOOOO

Long time skips mean a few thing: 1) Canon divergence, 2) Canon compliant, 3) pre-time skip, 4) during time skip, 5) post time-skip; and that’s not even the AU’s

They clearly haven’t made any other friends during this time either so lots of relationship to explore

The Naruto franchise is notorious for retconning. Probably because Kishimoto (the writer) was pushed to create at a pace that was impossible for any sane or healthy man to keep up with.

Fanficition writers can take advantage of this poor writing by interpreting the character in a lot more ways than if the character was solidly written.

There are a lot of different ways Kisame is written, and accepted as so

Itachi less so but we don’t have time for that

Retconning allows you to take a writers mistake and turn it into utter brainrot that ten other people (me) will reblog every 3 years

This one is kind of specific, but if you like angst then OH BOY this ship has a lot of potential for it

Any OTP that involves an angsty edgelord and a sadistic tagalong can indulge in either EXTRA ANGST and be able to balance out the angst with humor

The KisaIta ship has 4 great themes about it:

Redemption

Acceptance

Forgiveness

And Existentialism of course

Dynamic:

Sharkboy / lava girl

Edgelord / goof

Leader / follower

Maybe old? / a touch too young

Respect for each other

S-tier OTP because of strong themes and repeatable dynamics

Kinkfest here we come

S-tier OTPs must be able to withstand an intense variety of smut writing

Powerful level = able to handle pain and dish out pain

Body things? = more positions

The Shape of Water was one of the single best thing to happen to the KisaIta 18+ fics because (even though it existed before the movie came out) a lot more readers were into it now

Also, Kisame makes this ship work more than Itachi. He is fucking DEVOTED

at this point I was running out of my 10-minutes (THEY HAD THE AUDACITY TO PUT ME ON A TIMER) so i just backfilled the rest of the presentation with fanart and memes i like

Why do I like KisaIta?

I mostly write smut

They’re great at smut

I also like angst

They’re always great for angst, either character

Also look at them they are hot AF

Beefcake service-top vs. ‘shaped like a katana’ masochist

Healthy dose of hurt-comfort

They’re extremely flexible to write and so there’s a lot of stories you can create

thank you for not reporting me to the powerpoint police

[vessel-token]

—give me all that you can give.

Sleep Token Vessel x F!Reader.

Tags ; Explicit Sexual Content. Body Worship. Dom/Sub Undertones. Implied Body Insecurity (Reader). Mention of Religious Imagery. Cunnilingus. Nipple Play.

AN ; okay god this took me WAY too long to actually write… forgive me, truly. this was based on a post i made a little while ago, and i just finally got off my ass to write it! also holy shit, this is only the second x reader i’ve written in years, so i apologize if it’s a little shitty… it’s also awkward writing dialogue for a guy who doesn’t exactly speak. this isn’t overly graphic since i wanted to shoot for a bit more poetic vibe, but it is smut, so MDNI and read at your own risk! ⚠️

Divider ; @benkeibear

It’s a pair of calloused hands walking down your naked sides, each taking their separate turns to wander from the destined path that is your hips. It’s the way that Vessel has seen every inch of you more times than he can count and yet, his attention will always be snagged by something as simple as a mole or freckle or scar. He’s plenty aware of the existence of any mark on you of course, but they give him an excuse to detour from his inevitable goal in order to brush his thumb over them. You personally don’t understand his fascination, nor do you get why he feels he needs a reason to explore your body, but you certainly aren’t complaining.

Currently, he finds his place against your chest, his lips pressing featherlight kisses to the valley between your breasts.

“Gorgeous,” Vessel whispers, entirely sincere. “Breathtaking.”

In the back of your mind, a voice speaks out in protest of his brief praise. It gives arguments for a matter that Vessel will no longer allow you to debate. Your appearance is that of a god in his eyes, like something carved from the finest marble; intimidatingly beautiful. Your creator must have taken a little more time on you, he’s sure. It kills him a bit inside to know that you don’t always feel the same, but he understands. It isn’t something he can fight you on, he cannot change your mind by brute force alone, but he can do this.

He can prove it to you in his own way.

“Lay back for me,” Vessel tells you. It’s not quite a demand but he isn’t asking, either.

You listen, if only because you know this isn’t meant to be a time for arguing, and move from your original place on his lap in favor of sprawling over your shared bed. It feels like a dissatisfying trade off at first, but Vessel is quick to make up for it.

He situates himself between your thighs, running his hands over them before giving an appreciative squeeze. He leans down and braces himself with one hand beside your head, kissing his way down your neck as he descends upon you. Each time, without fail, you’re stuck by just how reverent Vessel is. He handles you like an object of worship, firm enough to ensure your presence, but not rough enough to mar your precious surface. Admiring and mindful, but never shy.

Of course, that isn’t always the case. Sometimes, lets his inhibitions go. On those nights, neither of you are separate entities. You’re both one thing, not exactly mortal and not exactly god, just two beings desperate to be tangled together in spite of whatever tore them apart initially. On those nights, Vessel’s back becomes decorated with the angry red lines of your clawing, while your hips and neck bear bruises in the shapes of his hands and teeth. He’ll keep going for hours until you’re both well and truly sated, grinding into you when his own stamina begins to deplete.

A warm mouth closing over your nipple startles you back into the present, your body responding before your mind as you arch your back to try and press your chest into the sensation. You can feel Vessel humming against you and you belatedly realize he must’ve done it to get your attention, which you’re all too happy to reward him with as you card your fingers through his hair.

“You’ve got me, love,” you assure him.

In response, he gropes at your other breast, pinching and rolling the hardened bud between his fingers until you whine. He sucks at the one currently in his mouth, teasing you with his teeth and tongue before ultimately pulling back.

“Where did you go?” Vessel asks, referring to your earlier daydreaming.

“To you,” you answer, smiling free and unrestrained as you gaze up at him.

You see his lips twitch up into a self-satisfied grin, clearly pleased to know he has your focus whether it’s in person or in your mind. He bends down to kiss you and his sweetness proves to be deceiving the second he slips his tongue into your mouth, seeking out your own to play with until your lungs are aching with the need for oxygen. When he pulls away, you can’t help but chase after him before you catch yourself. Unfortunately, Vessel notices before you can stop and his smugness immediately becomes evident in the way that he chuckles.

“Be patient,” he chides lightly. He places his hand over your throat in a manner entirely unnecessary but wholly intentionally, and uses it to gently press you back down into the mattress.

You bite your tongue to keep from giving him attitude, resisting the urge to point out that you’ve been patient all day and you need him now. Usually you wouldn’t even bother feigning self-control, but you’re in the mood to be spoiled and Vessel’s idea of spoiling just so happens to be persuasive enough to make you behave. Just for tonight.

Your eyes never leave Vessel’s form as he begins to kiss his way down your stomach, continuing his journey until he’s returned to his favorite spot between your legs. You feel yourself tense in anticipation, but it does little to prepare you for the spark that shoots down your spine when you feel his breath ghost over your cunt. You must’ve done this hundreds of times by now, yet something about the way Vessel does it somehow never fails to make it feel like the first.

He flattens his tongue as he drags it over your slit, pausing to pay special attention to your clit and continuing to do so until your hips are shaking with the effort not to rut against his face. He introduces his fingers to the mix, easing one into you while he continues to suck and lick. You can feel your walls twitching around the welcome intrusion, plenty slick from how long you’ve been waiting for this, and that petty side of you hopes that it gets across just how patient you’ve truly been.

“You taste divine,” Vessel groans, his voice coming out muffled because he refuses to pull away from you for longer than a second.

The compliment is sweet, but you’re more focused on trying to ride his tongue, only his hand on your thigh prevents them both from squeezing shut around his head. You’re sure he wouldn’t mind regardless, he seems to love it when you get as lost in the moment as him, but you’re trying to be good. Why, exactly? You’re starting to forget. Maybe it was to get eaten out by a man disguised as a walking sex god, or maybe it was because you needed the reassurance that you could be good. You could deserve this and Vessel.

Before your mind can spiral down that rabbit hole any further, another finger pushes into your tight heat alongside the first, crooking and scissoring them. You cry out and your hips buck on their own accord, clutching at the sheets beneath you if only so that you don’t disrupt Vessel. He licks a long stripe up your cunt again, reveling in your wetness before returning to your now-swollen clit. The constant pressure from his tongue is nearly too much, pulling all sorts of downright pornographic sounds from your throat as you writhe underneath him.

“Ves, fuck,” you hiss, daring a glance down at him. It’s a poor choice because the sight of him practically feasting on you like a man starved is almost enough to undo you. “I’m gonna cum, love, I’m—”

Vessel mumbles something that sounds a lot like permission to your wishful ears, and then he seals his lips around your clit and sucks at the same time that he buries both fingers up to the knuckle inside you. Just like that, he unravels you, your cunt clenching around his digits and your back arching off the mattress. You cum with his name on your breath, chanting it like a litany; a prayer to the man that granted you divine intervention with each touch. You weren’t sure if you’d ever make it to Heaven but here, beneath Vessel, you did not need to. You already glimpsed it every time he kissed you and told you he loved you.

He continues to lap at you until your thighs begin to tremble with the overstimulation, and you reach a hand down to gently push his head away. Vessel flashes you a toothy grin, crawling back over you and letting you get an unobstructed view of the mess you’d left on his face. That sinful tongue of his darts out to clean what he can reach, and you wipe away what he can’t with a tissue you’d plucked from the nightstand. When he leans in to kiss you, you can still taste yourself on his lips, but you consider it a worthy sacrifice as you loop your arms around his neck.

“How do you feel?” Vessel asks, bumping his nose against yours in a sickeningly sweet gesture. You never fail to notice how he always checks in on you after you have sex. Regardless of if it’s slow and sweet or rough and quick, he always ensures you’re alright.

“Like I just died and came back to life,” you snort, still a bit breathless.

The laugh he releases reverberates through his chest, a soft and steady vibration against your own as he buries his face in your neck. You can tell without even seeing him that he still has more in store for you, can feel the smirk that he presses against your skin when he kisses it. Even when he wears his mask, Vessel never seems to be able to be as discreet as he wants to be. He’s expressive and transparent for the most part, and you love that about him. Whether he’s out on stage or in private, he remains genuine.

“Then I hope you don’t mind another resurrection or two,” he whispers, his teeth brushing your throat as he speaks. “Because I’m not done with you.”

Taglist ; @lee-by-thy-side @delacroix471 @cesthoney

(let me know if you’d like to be added!)