#I'd say sorry I keep reblogging your tags
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im-a-blackstar · 2 months ago
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The more I think about Fulgrim with Dad Zahndrekh, the more unwell I feel about it. It WOULD have fixed him!!!
Rotating Primarchs in my mind. Rotating Necrons in my mind.
Rotating... both...?
Thinking about baby Primarchs landing on Necron worlds.
Magnus on Solemance, with answers to all of his questions at his fingertips.
Or Konrad, who learns from 'Uncle Orikan' the ways in which the future can be bent, and the ways in which it cannot be, and how to tell the difference.
Fulgrim on Gidrim, learning the old Necrontyr concepts of honour from his father-Nemesor Zhandrekh, learning the subtleties of court politics, learning to duel from Vanguard Obyron himself.
Omegon as a space pirate, yes -- but under the tutelage of Thaszar the Invincible. Mortarion snatched up by Szeras instead of Necare of Barbarus. Jaghatai Khan traveling the galaxy with Anrakyr the Traveler, his organic mind lending an advantage that no tomb world in their path is able to anticipate.
I'm not really going much of anywhere with this. I just love both of these factions (I have ideas for a story/anthology with Guilliman and Trazyn, too) and think there's interesting potential there.
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bunnys-kisses · 3 months ago
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hiiii bunnnyyyyyy ! i'd like to request for pumpkin pie + vanilla cheesecake + berry trifle, with frozen latte + mint julep + dark roast coffee with max verstappen pleaaaasseeeeee :3
bakery menu!
want to submit an order? hit the menu up! there's tons of stuff to see! i've added new items to the menu to really spice things up! the small staff of bunnies (me) and the servers are here to take your order! don't want to suggest f1, then don't worry! there are tons of other fandoms to choose from! and thank you to this patron for such a lovely order! i see what you're envisioning here with the sub!max trope plus everything else. i hope you love it! enjoy! (also comments, reblogs & tags are greatly appreciated!!)
pumpkin pie ("i've met strays who were more obedient.") + vanilla cheesecake ("where are your manners?") + berry trifle ("wrong. try again.") + frozen latte (dumbification) + mint julep (punishments) + dark roast coffee (sub!character)
cw: smut/pwp, sub!max, dom!reader, punishments, dirty talk/degrading language, masturbation, teasing, jerking off, sex toys, mean!reader, filth (!!), mention of oral sex
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you weren't with max. in all fairness the idea of being a wag felt a bit... wrong. you weren't the ideal woman for the prestige of formula one. a little rough around the edges. but yet in the sea of models in monaco, max was currently knelt down on the floor of your bedroom with his arms bound behind his back.
painfully panting at the feeling of you on your knees in front of him. stroking his cock. the soft noises from his lips as he tried to buck into your touch, but he knew what would happen if he tried to take more than he was given.
"god max. i've met strays who were more obedient." you sighed as you continued to jerk him off. your smaller hand around his painfully erect cock. the tip of it was almost purple from the blood rush.
it was making everything painfully dizzy for him. his tongue felt heavy in his mouth as he tried to form words. but there was nothing to be said. this was a punishment.
while in all fairness, you couldn't care less what place max came in. you often had the races on when you made breakfast. you knew very clearly that max was the best. but when he came in fourth in the most recent race, just slipping out of the podium. you weren't shocked that he wanted to see you after. flying back home to monaco to see his mistress.
it wasn't about love. after max's previous relationship went south very fast, he yearned for something different. he didn't need arm candy, he needed a woman that'll dip her fingers into the sick desires in his head. mess him up inside and out.
like you were now. jerking him off alongside a toy, keep orgasm just out of reach. you sighed, "where are your manners, verstappen? did you leave them on the track? you didn't even say please or thank you when i invited you into my home." you shook your head.
max dipped his head down and you grabbed him by the face with your free hand, forcing those blue eyes to look at you. he swallowed and felt like he was going to explode.
he swallowed deeply, "i'm sorry, miss. i'm sorry." his voice was tight. he was so painfully desperate. it made something curl in your stomach. it was hot in a way. having him bound like this.
his strong arms behind his back. you often wondered if maybe you should get a collar from that thick neck of his. the thought was amusing as you continued to pleasure him alongside the toy stuck to his cock via medical tape.
you kissed him lazily on the mouth and said, "see. you do know how to be good. but, you need to be better."
he nodded dumbly, "i will. i will." his tongue was loose when he got this deep. when he was using all of his willpower to keep it together. poor, poor max verstappen. needing to be punished for every little mistake.
if you don't do it, then he'll beat himself down to the bone. your time being a dom had led you to understand. that men desperate enough to let go of the control, often had skeletons in their closet.
and you had only scratched the surface in the six months you've been with max. you held his face in your hand and scratched his scalp with the other. it was almost affectionate.
you said lowly, "i need perfection, verstappen. i will not accept anything less. and you know this. i let it slide when you get onto the podium. i am forgiving. but slipping past third is unacceptable."
he nodded, "yes, miss. thank you for your kindness.'
you kissed him softly on the lips. your red lipstick stained the corner of the man's mouth. he whimpered a little and you smiled.
his voice was light as he said, "please, miss. i'm sorry."
you smiled then got onto the couch, which made max whine. but not too much, or else the punishment would be dragged out. you were naked like him and sat down. you got one leg up onto the couch and exposed your wet pussy to max.
you dragged your fingers across your sex before you sank your fingers in. you rubbed your clit a little as you pleasured yourself. you sighed, "you have so much to learn, max. i bet you don't even know how to make a woman cum. you formula boys are all so greedy. take, take, take and hurt whatever woman you want in the process." you shook your head, keeping your composure as you pleasured yourself.
he whined, "not to you. never to you, miss." his voice felt tight. he was starting to lose it. the pleasure was eating his brain and leaving mush behind.
you seemed almost bored, un-amused by max's desperation. leaving him out to dry as he withered against the toy taped to his swollen cock. you said, "right. because you're a good boy, right? well.. good boys get world championships. you're slipping verstappen. what's going to happen if norris or sainz beat you."
he swallowed and squirmed, "I'll do better next time, miss. please."
you felt a flame in your stomach as you pleasured yourself to max's sweet pleas. the promises of being better. to push himself to the next level. and while the games were fun, you could tell that max was getting too far gone. his self control was slipping.
the last thing you needed was a sub off the deep end. this was kink sex, not fucked up therapy. you pulled your fingers out of your sticky cunt then leaned back into the couch to get comfortable. you then said, "cum."
and a moan choked out max's throat. he hunched over and let out a strangled noise as he came all over himself. ropes of cum hit all the way to his chest. he was a sweaty, overstimulated mess. he thought he was going to collapse over himself from the intensity of it all.
you chuckled a little at the suddenness of it. you leaned forward on the couch, your bare cunt exposed to him. your legs spread open as an invitation for him. you took him by the hair of the hair and looked into his eyes. "and how do we thank me for being able to cum?"
he swallowed. those blue eyes gazed up at you, his breath staggering, "trips? money? anything!" he sounded almost desperate. it was a good look on him.
you yanked his hair a little and said, "wrong. try again."
he said, "giving my mistress the pleasure she deserves." before you pulled him right up against your soaked cunt and he got to work. the groan that left his lips as his face collided with your pussy made you shiver.
you had to give max credit. you was determined when it came to repaying what he felt like he owed you. this was not a romantic partnership. but as max looked up at you, his tongue against your sex. you wondered if like most things max did, he was hiding from a truth.
you pulled him closer to your pussy and let him indulge. which only made his cock twitch in alertness. it would be a long night, and you intended to use every moment of it <3
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shenanigans-and-imagines · 1 year ago
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I Want It All: Part 2
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Part 1, Part 3
Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader
Kissing, Angst, Asexual Angst, Allusions to Past Relationships
Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It’s easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can’t pretend anymore?
A/N: OMG, thank you to everyone who has read the first part. I was not expecting for it to blow up like it did. Hopefully this next part doesn't disappoint. And as always REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!!! (Especially those I've tagged. I'd really like to know if you still like it.)
Word Count: 3.0K
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How could ten feet of hallway feel like a death march?  It was a question you never thought to pose to yourself, until you faced the distance between your door and Astarion’s. 
What could you even say to him? An apology was always a good start, but for what? Neither of you made any formal declarations of intentions towards each other. That was the whole point of this game of yours, to keep the other guessing. It wasn’t like you outright lied to him or made promises you didn’t intend to keep. 
So why did you feel so guilty? 
Of course, you could be working yourself up over nothing. He could just as easily laugh in your face. 
With all these thoughts swirling in your mind, you were almost surprised to see the light beneath his door reflecting on your boots.
A lump of panic tightened your throat. From the angle of the light, he wouldn’t be able to tell you were standing there. There was still time to turn around, put it off until morning–.
“The door is open, darling.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his voice. He didn’t sound upset or angry. Hell, he didn’t even sound smug. It was that rare gentleness he only took on when nobody else was looking. There were times it seemed to surprise even him. You didn’t stand a chance. 
With a breath, you opened the door. 
Warm candle light met your eyes, illuminating the room with a soft orange glow. The room itself was nothing special. Similar to yours it really only held the bed, desk and chair. The only noticeable difference was the widow facing due east, its curtains open allowing a view of the rain pittering against the window. 
Astarion had insisted on this room. You understood why now. He always wanted to start the day facing the rising sun. 
For a brief moment, you allowed the stillness of the moment to calm you, before turning your gaze to the man himself. 
Oh thank the Gods, he was still dressed. 
Astarion sat on the edge of the bed, in his most comfortable white ruffled shirt and black pants. Despite his casual appearance he still came off as nothing short of a prince awaiting his court. His lips were posed in a knowing smile as he regarded you, tilting his head to the side. The light of the candles caught his scarlet eyes, making them burn.
“Are you going to keep that open all night?” he asked. 
Blinking, you turned to see your hand was still on the door handle. A little too quickly, you shut it behind you. 
“Sorry,” you mumbled, not knowing what else to say. 
“It’s quite alright,” he said, his tone only mildly teasing. 
You stood there awkwardly, not really knowing where to put your hands. How in the hells were you meant to start a conversation after everything he saw? You were a bard for Gods’ sake. Talking was supposed to be something you were good at. Still the silence lingered, becoming worse with every second. 
Astarion raised an eyebrow. “What are you still doing way over there?”
You shrugged, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise up your neck. “Is there somewhere else you want me?”
He gave you a playful smirk, offering his hand. “Come on. I’d promise not to bite, but…” He trailed off, widening his smile enough for his fangs to show. 
Of all things, it was that small flash of teeth which put you at ease. He was poking fun at you. Surely that was a good sign. 
Slowly, you walked toward him, taking his outstretched hand. He was cool to the touch. His fingers a mixture of manicured softness and well fought calluses, leaving your skin tingling in its wake. You centered in on sensation letting it the ground you back into the here and now. 
He guided you to sit next to him, never letting his touch slip from yours. 
“That was…quite a performance,” he said. 
You gave a half hearted smile. It was as good a place to start as any, but you couldn’t look at him, instead focusing on the way his hand intertwined with yours. It should have frightened you or at the very least made you suspicious, but it felt too good. You didn’t want to break the spell. 
“I wasn’t expecting it,” you said, honestly. 
He gave a hum of agreement. “I don’t think any of us were.”
His hand trailed further up your arm, allowing his thumb to brush against the scars on your wrist. 
A small shiver went through you. The scars on your neck had long since faded after the first night you let him feed on you. You’d made a point to only let him bite your wrist from that point onward. It was meant to hedge expectations. You’d thought a neck bite would make the act more charged than you intended. What a fool you were. Of course he’d find a way to make even the barest touch feel intimate.
“The melody alone…I’ve never heard its equal,” he continued. 
You nodded, unsure what to do with his praise. You couldn’t dismiss it as easily as before. He sounded too sincere. 
“Thank you,” you said, softly, “but I’m not sure how much credit I can take. It felt more like the song was playing me.” 
“That doesn’t surprise me. How else could you explain such radiance?”
You felt now was the time for you to say something clever, but any words that might have formed fell heavy on your tongue as he moved your wrist to his lips, pressing a kiss to the raised marks of your skin. Your heart began to pound. No doubt he could feel every racing beat of it. 
“Are you hungry?” you said, the words blurting out before you could stop them. 
He laughed, the vibrations running down the length of your arm. 
“Certainly,” he purred, turning his gaze to you. “But not for blood. I was hoping you’d let me indulge in some other parts of you.” 
Panic struck you then, turning in your stomach as your eyes widened. “Astarion…”
“Don’t get shy on me now,” he said. He still held your wrist delicately in his hand allowing the other to brush lightly against your cheek. 
Your breath shook and damn you to the hells if you knew exactly the cause. 
“I saw you,” he whispered. “I saw what it is you truly desire. It was beautiful, passionate…starving, and all for me.” He leaned it close, the warmth of his breath dancing against your lips. “Am I wrong?”
Your mouth became dry as sand, forcing you to swallow. “Not entirely.”
“Would it surprise you then, to know I want the same thing?”
The sudden urge to laugh rose within you. Gods was this really happening? “I rather doubt that.”
“Then allow me to show you.” 
Before you could say another word, he closed the small gap between you, pressing his lips to yours. 
It was…nice; really nice, if you were being honest. His hand cupped your cheek, as if it were made of the finest porcelain. There was a care to his touch you hadn’t expected, leaving the door open for you to pull away. The assurance was enough to make you want to stay. 
You’d always liked this part. In truth, you craved physical affection; holding hands, hugging, kissing, they had a way of making you feel so much closer to those you cared for. The trouble always came when people expected more.  
He pressed further into you, teasing your mouth to spark a reaction. 
You needed to pull away. If there was a time for you to stop, this was it. But, it did feel so good. Maybe you could indulge a little longer. It was just kissing. 
Your own hand reached out, lacing your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. 
He hummed in approval, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. 
You let yourself get lost in him. It was easy to forget when he held you so reverently. For a moment you could convince yourself this was all there was. 
A slight shift in his body. His hands grasping you just a little tighter and next thing you knew you were on your back with Astarion hovering over you. 
His low moan poured into your mouth as he slotted himself between your legs and pressed his weight against you. 
Fear spiked within you, forcing the air from your lungs. Shit, this was happening.  
His lips left yours trailing kisses across your cheek to the underside of your jaw. 
“Just relax,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so well for me.” 
His lips met your neck and it was taking everything in your power to breathe normally. 
This wasn’t what you wanted, but it didn’t feel bad. Astarion was being so tender with you. Maybe, if you went through with it, things wouldn’t have to change. You could still flirt and tease. Hell maybe you could convince him to simply hold you now and again. All you’d have to do is let him have something for himself. It was more than a fair trade. Besides, he was experienced in this, certainly more than others you’d been with. You could do this for him. It’s not like you hadn’t done it before. 
His hands moved further down your body, teasing the edge of your shirt. 
The memory of that twisted melody came into your heart filling you with dread. The way you had been so willing to morph yourself into what somebody else wanted for the sake of not being alone. Wasn’t this supposed to be different? 
“Wait, stop,” you said, before you had time to question yourself. 
To your relief, Astarion didn’t hesitate pulling his hands away as if they just caught fire. 
“Are you alright?” he asked. “Did I hurt you?” 
You shook your head, that familiar guilt twisting inside you at his concern. “No. You didn’t do anything, I just…” You swallowed. You weren’t going to cry.  Not now. Gods, you were such an idiot. “Could you…could you move off me? Please.” 
His brow furrowed, but he did not question you as he pulled himself away. 
Cool air rushed over you, pulling a sigh of relief from your lips. For a long time you just laid there, calming the rush of adrenaline pumping through your blood. It was over. It was all over.
With an effort, you pulled yourself up to a sitting position. Out of the corner of your eye Astarion watched you, his expression unreadable. You’d expect nothing less from him.  
“I’m sorry,” you managed. 
“I don’t need an apology,” he said, firmly, “but I would like an explanation.” 
Slowly, as if to keep from frightening an cornered animal, he turned his body to face yours, making a point to keep a respectable distance. He really wasn’t going to make this easier for you. 
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked. 
You shook your head fervently. “No. No, you were perfect. That’s rather the problem.”
His lips turned into a hard line, clearly unsure how to take your statement. His eyes then narrowed, leaning closer to more carefully examine your features. 
“You’re not cursed, are you?” he asked, suddenly. 
The question caught you off guard, forcing a laugh. “What?”
“You know, something something, any man who touches you below the belt is smited. That kind of thing.” 
You shook your head, baffled as to where this conversation was headed. “No.” 
He nodded, in consideration “Alright then, any diseases you neglected to inform me about?”
“No.”
“Hells, don’t tell me you’re a virgin.”
“Gods no!” you snapped, feeling your whole body go flush. 
“Then what is it? One second you were there and the next…” he trailed off, before forcing a deep breath. “Look, I’m not angry, but if there is something wrong, I’d prefer to know.” 
“Nothing is wrong,” you insisted. 
“So why the hesitation?” he pressed. “You find me desirable. I’ve made clear I find you desirable. We’ve been dancing around each other for weeks and even have a proper mattress for the occasion. The only conclusion I can come to is there’s something you’re not telling me.” 
You opened your mouth only to close it again, wracking your brain on how to start this.
To your shock, Astarion remained silent. It wasn’t the quiet entitled anger you had received in the past or even idle confusion. He looked like he truly wanted to know. 
You let out a long sigh. There was no getting around it now. 
“I do find you desirable,” you said. “The trouble is, physically speaking…I don’t really.”
He raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Is this your way of telling me you don’t think I’m pretty?”
You had to laugh, shaking your head. “Astarion, I promise, you are possibly the most beautiful man I’ve ever met. But that doesn’t factor into why I desire you.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“No,” you said plainly. “It never has. Not with anyone.”
He cocked his head, his eyes caught between his natural suspicion and genuine surprise. “Never?”
You shrugged. 
“Above such things are you?” he said, dryly. 
“It’s not as if I’ve taken a vow of chastity,” you snapped. “I’m not trying to achieve some arbitrary moral purity. I just never felt attracted to anyone in that way. I can look at someone and know objectively they’re beautiful or handsome or any number of other descriptors, but that need, that hunger so many people describe, it just never clicked.”
He continued to stare at you blankly before his mouth turned into a hard line. 
“So when I was kissing you, just now. You didn’t feel anything?”
“Not especially,” you said, a little guilty. “Don’t get me wrong, it was pleasant. I do like being close to you. It’s just the things kissing leads to I’m not a fan of.”
You didn’t know what to make of the look that shot across his face. He seemed lost, somewhere far away, before blinking back to the present. 
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” he asked. 
“I meant to,” you assured. “I should have. I just…sometimes forget I don’t need a reason to say no.” 
You took a breath, willing yourself to calm. 
“I’ve spent a lot of my life thinking some part of me was broken. That if I waited long enough or tried hard enough, I’d feel the things I’m supposed to feel. I’ve come to terms with the fact I never will. I’m not upset about it. It just means that what I want, what I desire from another person, it’s different than most.” 
He took that in, his red eyes peering deep into yours as if truly looking at you for the first time. 
“So, if it’s not my body you desire, what else could you possibly want?” 
You stared at him as his expression suddenly hardened. His whole body turned on edge as if waiting for you to cast the ending blow. 
“What?” he prompted, sharply. 
You shook your head. “You really don’t understand, do you?”
He gave you an incredulous look. 
Keeping your movements slow and obvious, leaned closer to him. You reached out, moving towards his hand. 
He didn’t pull away, but the guarded expression never faded. 
You took that as a good sign, allowing your hand to rest on top of his as you looked him straight in the eyes. 
“Astarion, when I say I desire you, I mean all of you,” you said, keeping your tone as clear and open so there could be no doubt of the truth of your words. “I want your attentions. I want your adoration. I want your petty jealousies and loud annoyances. I want your teasing. I want your promises and your secrets. I want nights filled with your laughter and mornings in your arms. I want to feel your heart in my chest. I want to know it beats for me. And in return, I want to give you mine. So no, I’m not especially interested in your body. But for the rest? I’m insatiable.”
He only stared at you. You supposed you should take it as a triumph. You’d found an effective way to shut him up at least; declare your overwhelming love for him.
“I know,” you said, softly. “It’s a lot. I’m a lot. But, you don’t have to worry. I don’t expect anything.”
“You don’t?”
You gave a self deprecating smile.“Despite all evidence to the contrary, I’m not an idiot. I know whatever…favor you gave me, it wasn’t real.”
“That’s not true,” he said quickly.
You gave him a doubtful look. 
He grimaced. “Alright, maybe some of it was, but–.”
“It’s fine,” you cut off. “I know what game I was playing. I’m just not very good at it.” 
You pulled your hand away, letting your eyes fall from his. Despite the coolness of his touch, somehow your hand felt even colder at the loss of it. 
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice unnaturally unsure of itself. 
You tried to smile. “Don’t be. I’ll get over it. I always do.”
Something in his eyes flicked in the firelight. His expression turned contemplative as he looked deeply into your eyes. 
“I rather doubt that,” he murmured.
A sharp pain buried its way into your chest at his words, not because they were cruel or came from a place of arrogance, but because they were undeniably true. 
You pushed yourself off the bed, forcing down the well of emotion threatening to burst from your eyes at any moment. 
“I should go,” you said. “Goodnight.” 
You made your way towards the door only to stop at the sound of your name. It was said so gently, like a desperate prayer. 
You didn’t reach for it, not this time.  It already burned too much. 
Without another word, you stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind you leaving nothing but dark and silence.
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Tag List:
@yaimlight, @hallowedandhungry, @bluestuesday, @meggsssart, @murmoruno, @prophetszendo, @cabbit17, @sunset-sunrise-sunshine, @isharaneith, @thisisew, @easy-there-leftovers, @ohhnoimbisexual, @dolceaspidenera, @dork-of-the-universe, @righteous-scamp, @ambrolyer, @our-little-shared-infinity, @baldursgateslittlestar, @pkail, @nanaoise08squad, @becksynthetic, @deliriumcrow, @badgerstorms-art, @taraiel, @writingmysanity
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spookysteddie · 11 months ago
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That Friday Night
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Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader
read part one here
18+ MINORSDNI
cw: alcohol, drugs (weed and cocaine), clubbing, slight Dom!Eddie if you squint, possessive!Eddie, swearing, pet names, oral (fem!receiving), light choking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, edging, creampie. (let me know if I missed anything)
wc: 4.3k (I'm so sorry)
a/n: First of all, I want to thank every single person who liked, reblogged or made comments about part one. I was shitting myself posting it because (like I said) this is not an original thought. I'd read a few and it gave me this wave of inspiration. I am very proud of this part. It's also a little long (sorry sorry sorry I couldn't stop) . Also I don't think I'll be doing a tag list? When I used to do that no one on the list would like the fic and it was a lot of work. I hope that is okay? Let me know if you want more! I love and appreciate all of you!
...
You weren’t the type of person who got shy. Your entire job is being in front of a camera, telling people what you like, what you wear, the type of music you listen to. You did brand deals and went on lots of trips with people you didn’t know. Public interaction was easy for you and you definitely enjoyed it. 
But being personally invited to your favorite band's concert (even if you had tickets already) as their frontman's personal guest? It makes you weak in the knees. 
Telling your team about the phone call went about as good as one would expect. Anna and Case frown at you while continuing to say ‘you could’ve let it go to voicemail and we could’ve handled it directly with his people. AND why did you have him send the information directly to you?’
They weren't necessarily wrong in being upset. There were plenty of ways a conversation like that could be twisted and fucked with, especially if, for whatever reason, someone was recording the phone call. It was very easy for them to manipulate and edit that kind of shit, and drama was the last thing you wanted. 
However, the rest of the week went by without an issue. The gossip magazines had moved on to something else (though there were a few who continued to speculate about your non-relationship with Eddie. You did your deals, and kept yourself busy. And by the time Friday rolled around you were hardly nervous. 
Or that’s what you kept telling yourself. 
“Bell bottom star pants. Absolutely,” Hana says from her place on your bathroom counter, practically in the sink. “With that black leather top you love AND the red leather jacket. Oh! Oh! Oh! And the red boots!” 
You put the outfit on, looking in the mirror, “you don’t think it’s too… stereotypical?” 
Hana looks at you through the mirror, “no such thing. You look great.” 
Hana was one of the few people in your life who’d tell you like it is. You could trust her to tell you if her gut feelings were off, or on. She was your best friend and one of the few people who weren’t just here for the exposure. She’s here to be your cheerleader and you were hers. 
“Alright, let's get this going before I change my mind which I am two seconds away from doing.” 
… 
You should’ve changed your mind. 
You can hardly keep from throwing up as you're led by security to a private entrance. To get there you have to pass by their tour buses. All you can hear is loud music and whooping from inside. It’s clear they’re running around in there as the bus is rocking and all you can do is pray they don’t see you. 
You’re far too sober for the interaction you’ll be having at this current time. 
Unfortunately for you, the universe hates you. Just when you think you’re home free, the door opens, almost smacking you in the face. 
“Don’t think you can get away that easy, Asher,” Eddie says as he looks down at you. His pupils are blown wide, clearly from whatever drug he’s consumed. More than likely cocaine and weed. His words aren’t slurred so he isn’t drunk, though he does have a beer bottle in his large hands. 
God his hands, there have been many times where you’d imagine them wrapped around your throat, cutting off air as he fucks you like he hates you. You bet he could reach you even as he’s eating you out, he’s so tall and long. 
You wish you could say the grin you shoot at him is fake, however with the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour and smother you, it's not. You feel like a fucking school girl who has a crush. Your heart pounds so fast in your chest and you swear everyone around you can hear it. 
“We weren’t running away,” you say, voice a little breathier than you’d like. “Um this is my best friend-” 
“Hana, nice to meet you,” he cuts you off. It’s then that you see his eyes get wide and you know he’s been stalking your profile. Not that you can say anything because you’ve done it… a lot. “I, uh, saw the instagram story you put up earlier.” 
Hana smirks, “sure you did, big boy.” She pats his chest and is clearly much braver than you. That’s another thing about you and her, if one of you is feeling not confident, the other makes up for it. Like, on your own, asking for ketchup feels like cutting off a limb, but if she can't do it then it's up to you and vice versa. 
Eddie scratches the back of his neck, his black t-shirt stretching over his wide shoulder, “want to join us? We have alcohol!” 
“We would love that. Wouldn’t we?” Hana looks down at you with her brows raised, still taller than you in heels. 
You nod, “yes. Yeah absolutely! Are we allowed to photograph in here?” 
You know it’s a stupid thing to ask, but you also don’t want to take a photo of you and Hana and then not be able to post it. And what if you get photos with the rest of the band? Everyone already knows you’re going to be here. Just not… in this tour bus. 
Eddie nods, holding out his hand, “you are allowed to do whatever you want, pretty girl. And if anyone has an issue, send them my way, yeah?” He kisses the hand you’ve placed in his before leading you up the stairs of his bus. 
It's chaos in there, pure and utter chaos. You turn to look at Hana, silently telling her how insane this is. She nods slightly, but you see the grin on her face. Hana loves this stuff; the parties, the madness, all of it.
Eddie introduces you to the band, pulling you in closer by the waist. “You all need to be on your best behavior. No one touches her. Do you all understand me?” Your heart flutters at how serious he is and it instantly forces his bandmates eyes to fall to your feet. It’s impressive, actually. 
Suddenly, a bottle of beer is in your hands, passed to you by Eddie. “Oh… thank you.” You can hardly look at him as a small smile forms on your lips. His attention makes you feel all kinds of funny inside, your stomach doing flips. You know you have to look at him eventually, but he’s just so pretty that it actually hurts. 
“Um, so are you excited for your show?” This time you manage to actually drag your eyes to his. He smiles at you, his teeth so beautiful and perfect. It’s when he sits down that you realize that was a stupid question. Of course he’s excited. This is his actual job. 
He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at you through his lashes, you could kiss him. But you don’t for obvious reasons. Reasons you can't really think of at the moment. Not when he’s looking at you like that.  The beer bottle hangs in his right hand between his legs. 
“Very. Not much comes close to the feeling I get when we’re on that stage.” He shakes his head, curly hair moving with him, “plus, being able to hear people sing my songs back to me is fucking incredible.” 
His hand finds yours, pulling you a little closer. Eddie is testing the waters, you know this. Unfortunately for you, your brain can’t see through the cloud of lust. So, you let him pull you closer, sit you on his lap, and wrap an arm around you. 
Your brain does catch up, quicker than expected. “It seems like it’d be incredible. I applaud you cause I could never do that. I have stage fright.” 
He blinks up at you, “stage fright? Haven’t you done red carpet interviews and stuff?” 
You shift a little, shrugging, “well yes. But that’s different.” You can't stop the awkward laugh that comes out of you. It was true, it was different. You weren’t exactly sure why but it was. 
Eddie's thumb moves along your side slightly and it leaves goosebumps in its wake. 
“I’m being honest, the lights are so bright that I can’t see everyone in the crowds. Mainly just the front rows. Makes it easier.” 
Eddie puts his beer bottle on the ground by his feet before sitting up and grabbing a joint. He’s quiet as he lights it, puffing out smoke to get it going. “Want some?” 
He holds the joint towards you, waiting for your answer. You’ve done this before at the frat houses at college. You’ve done it here and there in high school as well. This is second nature, but this time you’re nervous. What if you forget how to inhale? What if you throw up? Any number of things can happen. 
Something happens inside you and your brain finally catches up to itself. A small stroke of confidence happens and without taking your eyes off of him, you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the joint and inhaling. His eyes stay locked on yours, his tongue wetting his lips. You pull back, slowly blowing out the smoke. 
“Fuckin’ hell.” It comes out in a whisper and you know he didn’t mean to say it out loud. His eyes falling from your eyes, to your lips and back again. 
God you want to kiss him. His pillowy lips would feel amazing against yours, you just know it. You start to lean into him, desperate to know if you’re right.   
A bang on the door scares the fuck out of the both of you and Eddies boot knocks over his bottle. It’s a good thing he drank most of it, the contents not spilling on the plush carpet. 
“Let’s get going guys. Put your dicks back in your pants, we have a show to do.” You know that voice, that’s their manager. He’s the one who called your people to make sure you had all the rules for this evening. 
Photos are fine. 
Everyone must be tagged. 
Nothing negative. 
Absolutely no photos of any white substances. Even if it’s sugar. 
That last one would be hard considering it was on every flat surface in neat, clean lines. 
You go to stand up, but Eddie stops you, his hand tightening on your hip. “Promise I’ll see ya after?” 
You nod, “y-yeah of course.” 
Before you know it, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft, sweet and you don’t want it to end. In fact, you totally forget about all the other people in the room. Your hands find his face, pulling him closer as his tongue begs for permission. And once you grant it, it’s game over. 
He tastes like beer and weed and cigarettes and you love it. You want more. You want to get closer. 
But it’s not long before the door to his trailer opens up, his manager stepping into the bus. “I said get your dicks and tongues together. We cannot be late.” 
… 
By the time the show is over you barely have a voice, and you’re sure you’ve never been more turned on in your life. It might seem silly to say, but Eddie's kiss lingered the entire show and all you want is more. 
Back stage the band is still running on adrenaline, drinking water for once to try and refuel for the rest of the night. The rest of the night being a club that they frequent. A club you don’t go to because of that exact reason. 
“Ohhhhh! There's the prettiest girls I’ve ever laid eyes on!” Eddie's voice booms as security goes to double check you and Hana. “Hey! Leave them alone. They’re with me.” 
Security stands back, hands raise like he knows it’ll cause more issues if he doesn’t. You almost feel bad for the poor guy, he was just trying to do his job. Like what if you had a bomb or something? 
“C’mon we gotta get outta here.” He laces his fingers with yours before he pulls you along with him. You look over your shoulder, catching Hana's eyes. 
Go! She mouths, hanging off Gareth's arm. I’ll meet you there! 
And so, you go. Are you nervous? Yes absolutely. Are you going to pretend you aren’t and have some confidence? Yes. Fake it till you make it right?
Eddie opens the door to the car, extending a hand, “ladies first.” 
You grin at him as you elegantly slide into the car, “wow. I didn’t know you were such a gentle man.” This time when you giggle, it's cute and self assured. 
“Yes, I have been told my entire life that I look,” he slides in sucking in a soft, thinking breath, “mean and scary.” 
“You look like a doberman but they’re precious babies.” You mean it too. He looks a little mean and scary, especially in the red lights of the stage. Not to mention the “devil music” (says the media) which can get a little dark. But that’s what makes it great, in your opinion. Plus, he does look like doberman. Like he could probably kill you but would actually not? 
“‘Precious babies?’” 
You nod, “mhm! I grew up with them. Very sweet and love kisses. Oh! And they each had their own comfort toys.” 
“Then maybe I am one because I do love kisses.” He’s closer now, his breath fanning over your face. He still smells like beer and cigarettes mixed in with the smell of his cologne. 
It’s your turn to close the gap and planting your lips on his. The kiss is hotter, more intense. One could argue it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your system that makes you so bold. You’re buzzed, but not drunk. It isn’t long before his hands are in your hair, tugging. It makes you moan in his mouth, opening up to him. 
He sits back, his hands in your hair pulling you with him, making you sit in his lap. Your legs rest on either side of his hips, your cunt nestled right against the bulge in his pants. He couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. You test the waters by rocking your hips, the friction being so sweet that you’re the one who lets out a moan. 
“God, that is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. “Should record it and use it in our next song.” 
You hum and grin, “I wouldn’t mind that. Always wanted to be in a song. Can’t sing though.”  
He nips at your ear, “that’s my job baby.” 
Eddie's large hand grips your hips, stopping your movements. You want to whine, you want to protest. You were so fucking close. 
“We’ll save that for when we're back at my place.” 
You grin and kiss along his jaw, “who says I’m going back to your place?” 
“The way you were just grindin’ against my cock, angel.” He grins, “also with how you’re lookin’ at me.” 
“And how am I looking at you? Hmm?” 
“Like you want me to fuck you while your brain leaks out your cunt.” 
You shudder at the crudeness of his words. No one has ever spoken to you like that and looked like him. The car stopping in front of the club saves you from trying to come up with an answer. One you know will either be embarrassing or non-existent. 
He looks over at the paparazzi that is waiting and sighs, “are we going in together or…” 
The decision you make is quick. If you’re going to do this, even for one night, you’re going to do it together and let them talk. You give him a quick kiss, “together. Give ‘em something to talk about, yeah?” 
So, you do. 
The second you’re out of the car, cameras flash and photographers call out a mix of your name and his and you can hardly understand what they’re saying. You don’t stop to pose, letting them only photograph you and him walking hand and hand. Give them crumbs as your manager says. Once you’re in the club, not even needing to show an ID or give a name. 
From there the night happens in a blur. The band has the VIP section where bottles of expensive liquor are brought over by women dressed in a bikini. You know how much all of this costs (more than you can afford that’s for sure) but you also know that all of this is on Eddie and the bands tab. He’s told you six times. 
So you drink. And you smoke. And you watch pretty white lines disappear, most of which disappear up Eddie's nose. Of course you take videos, vlogging your night and making sure to follow all the rules that were set prior to this meeting. Taking photos to remember the night. Hana is having a blast, taking shots like it’s her job and making out with Gareth in between. Of course she takes photos with you, sitting in your lap and giggling so much the photos come out blurry. But those are your favorite kinds of photos. 
“Dance with me?” Eddie says in your ear over the music. 
You take the shot that is in your hands, “lead the way.” 
The second you’re surrounded by sweaty bodies you feel invisible. You’re sure someone has cameras on you and him but at the moment you don’t care. 
Your hips move to the music, back against Eddie's chest while his hands explore your body. His lips move against your neck, sucking a dark mark into it that you know you’ll struggle to cover later. Again, you don’t care. What you do care about is the hardness that you feel against your back. 
You spin around, grinning up at him. God he’s so fucking tall you have to tilt your head up a good bit to look at him. 
“We should get out of here,” you say as he pulls you into him. 
He smirks, “thought you weren’t coming back to my place sweetheart.” 
“Seems I told a fib. Now, I need you to take me home and fuck me like you hate me.” 
It’s all he needs before he’s grabbing you by the hand and pulling you out of the club. The car is there and he quickly pulls you into the back seat. Once those doors are closed, the window tint so dark you couldn’t see inside if you tried, his mouth his on yours. Your stomach flips and the neediness you feel coming off of him. He pulls you till you’re straddling him, legs on either side of his hips. Not really the safest but at this point, all you need is his lips on you. 
The ride to Eddie’s consists of lots of kissing, so much so that you know your lips are swollen. You don’t get to see much of Eddie’s house, too focused on getting inside the house and into his bedroom. He drags you up the stairs, your hand is his. And once you’re in his room, he has you pressed up against his bedroom door. 
“You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Eddie pushes your jacket off your shoulders while he speaks, his words going straight to your clit. Your mind can barely comprehend that Eddie Munson, the man you’ve had a crush on since they were considered an ‘underground band,’ is currently taking off your clothes. 
You do the same to him, pushing his leather jacket to the ground before tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Me? You are so beautiful.” 
He hums, popping the button on your jeans, “should we take a poll on who's prettier? Winner takes the loser on a date?” 
That makes you laugh, “sounds like a deal. But first, you need to fuck me.” 
His eyes nearly go black at that and before you can think, he’s throwing you on this bed. You land with a small oomph. You decide to take a little initiative, pulling off your boots, scooting off your pants and pulling off your top. 
Eddie watches, rapt and almost possessed, his eyes scanning your partially naked body. It’s not anything more than someone would see if you posted in a bathing suit, but you can’t help but feel nervous that he isn’t going to like you. 
He quickly puts those fears (fears he knows nothing about) to rest as he settles between your legs. His eyes don’t leave yours as he kisses up your thighs. You know there is a wet patch on your underwear and you know he can see it. You do feel embarrassed about it, but at the same time, Eddie is slightly rutting against the bed so he must like it. Right? 
You can feel your body heat as he gets closer and closer to your center. 
“Eddie, please don’t tease me.” Never have you begged a man. Typically whoever you were in bed with did the begging, much to your dislike. You were desperate for someone to take charge. Now you know why they didn’t. One bruise and they get shit from all your followers. Even if you tell them to leave these men alone. 
But Eddie? He wasn’t afraid. 
“But it’s so much fun to watch you squirm.” 
You huff, squirming exactly like he said as he sits up to pull your underwear down your legs before setting back between them. “Need you to touch me.” 
He licks a stripe up your slit, sucking on your clit as he gets to the top. The sound that falls from your lips is beautiful, sweeter than the sound you made in the car. Now Eddie really wants to put you in a song, but the jealous, primal side of him never wants someone else to be able to hear your moans. 
In fact, he doesn’t want to think about any of the other men who’ve heard you make these sounds. Murder wasn't really on his list of things he enjoyed. Bar fights? Yes. Murder? No. 
“You make the prettiest sounds, sweetheart. S’very hot.”  He slides two fingers inside you with little resistance, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside you. The stretch feels good, your hips moving on their own, riding Eddie's fingers. 
You're close, the build up of this moment really getting closer than you originally thought. “Squeezin’ my fingers so tight, baby. Are you close?” 
You nod, afraid if you speak you’ll say something ridiculous. 
But that isn’t good enough for Eddie. “Words.” 
“V-very.” 
That was clearly the wrong thing to say because he pulls his fingers from inside you, the emptiness making you gasp, “no! No, no, no I was so close!” 
He laughs as he pushes his pants and boxers off his body. “Exactly. Want you to cum with my cock inside you.” 
You look down between your bodies and your eyes widen. He was big and you accidentally voice what you’re thinking, “fuck… not gonna fit.” 
His laugh drags your eyes back to him, his cock moving through your slick and bumping your clit. “Baby you are so wet that I have no doubt it’ll fit.”  
You don’t have time to be embarrassed about it because Eddie is pushing inside you. The size of him stretching you makes you feel like he’s going to split you in half. But you don’t care, the burn just turns you on more and more and before you know it he’s seated inside you fully. 
“Fuck, Eddie.” 
Eddie is panting, trying to keep still so he doesn’t cum before he wants to. “Feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. A man could become obsessed with this pussy.” 
He moves right as you begin to speak, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. He feels like he’s everywhere. “W-witchcraft” 
He fucks you harder, his cock hitting your cervix. You’re definitely going to have a bruise there but it's so worth it. 
“Didn’t know you were into dark shit. S’my schtick.” 
You wrap your legs around him, orgasm building again, “more alike than you originally thought huh?” 
He wraps a tattooed hand around your throat, squeezing gently and making your head spin, “oh, angel, I knew how alike we were the second you told everyone how bad you wanted to fuck me.” 
“C-can you blame me? Knew you’d fuck me just h-how I like.” 
You clench around him making him hiss, “yeah you need someone who will take control huh?” 
The hand around your neck slides down your body till he finds your clit, circling it. 
“Oh god! Please.” 
“I can get used to you prayin’ to me.” His thrusts are losing rhythm (something he’s usually very good at keeping) and you know he’s close. “Cum baby. I need it.” 
And it’s all you need to fall over the cliff and into bliss. He follows you, coming inside you while you squeeze around him. You both moan each other's names and you sigh as you come down. 
Eddie breaks the silence first, “that was… amazing.” 
You hum in agreement as he slides out of you and curls up beside you. You take a moment before getting up and cleaning up in the bathroom. When you come back Eddie has left out an old Corroded Coffin t-shirt and some boxers. And once they’re on, you slide back into his bed, laying your head on his chest.
“We should put that poll up, huh? I’m itching to win this bet.” Eddie laughs as he says it and before you know it, you two are finding a photo the both of you like and posting it on your story with the caption, ‘which one is prettier? Honesty is the best policy.’ 
“And now… we wait.”
886 notes · View notes
miothle · 3 months ago
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Hello! I believe this is my first text post ever,,,forgive me if I sound anxious (bcs I am) but I'd like to talk about some changes to this blog!
Firstlt, I'm so sorry for the inactivity - I've been unhappy with my current art (or rather the obligation to make art of subjects I don't really want to) to the point of being burnout. But no I'm not quitting don't worry,,
This blog was originally meant to be my art portfolio - for work purposes - but I've decided that I'd like to treat it more like a personal blog. I want to use this blog to share my passion and not hold it off for the sake of keeping it professional or smth,,,so expect more unfinished sketches/wips/merch photos in the future! Basically expect more yapping! (im so sorry)
Most importantly, although this blog has been 99% hoyoverse related art, I'll be stepping away slowly from hoyo games for personal reasons. So expect me to draw less hoyo and more diverse fandoms in the future (eg Wuwa, FGO, madoka, you name it)
With all the heads up being said, please feel free to unfollow if this is not your cup of tea! No hard feelings, I just want to say: Thanks for sticking with me until now, it truly meant a lot! I love seeing the nice (and down bad) tags from your reblogs...always make my day, never change🙏🙏🙏
That's all for now! I will yap again soon🫶
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captainzigo · 8 months ago
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Hi everypony!
My kofi is ko-fi.com/captainzigo if you enjoy my art, consider leaving me a tip! this is otherwise entirely a labor of love so,,,
you can also send a request with your tip! but if you choose to do so, please read the disclaimer later on in this post**
my non-art blog, where i accept asks is @snapewife-divorce-lawyer and my reblog-spam blog is @3amgaypotion also i am on bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/captainzigo.bsky.social
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that's a bunch of pictures of my oc(/ponysona) Prickly Pear. she's a cowgirl
Frequent/noteworthy questions below the break
**on donations made to me:
i still dont take commissions currently, but if you send a request with a donation, there's a 99% chance i'll do it. and that remaining 1% i'll probably just ask you for a different request. if you send me a request with a donation you are not sending me a commision. you are making a donation, and i might do you a favor as a result. you do not own the resulting art. and I am under no obligation to complete it or to do it in the way that you like. you do not need to make a donation in order to make a request. i talk more about it here
hello mutuals!
If you are a mutual, DM me for an invite to discord server and subsequently to minecraft server
on sending me asks:
any asks you send me should be like Strongbad emails. one paragraph. no attachments. unless you are sending me refs.
in any interactions, please keep in mind that i am a stranger on the internet and act accordingly.
unless I have explicitly said otherwise, you can safely assume that I do not count you amongst my friends. it is nothing personal, it is in fact the opposite.
why am i like this?
i am autistic. i say this because representation matters, but also because i would like to ask that you please be very frank with me. i don't even really need your patience. just say what you mean and we will get along fine.
can you draw my ocs?
you most certainly can draw any of my ocs. i'd love that acually. tag me
on (re)posting my art:
do not post my art on other platforms. do not repost my art period. I don't really exist on other platforms since i deleted Twitter. So if you see my stuff on other platforms, it's not me. except for my bluesky.
transformative works are obviously allowed, at least here in america where i live. but if you want my blessing, please keep them SFW, and try to keep the spirit of the original artwork
is my blog SFW?
im in my twenties. i keep my blog SFW (as i define it) as a strict rule.
i do not consider the fact that sex exists, that some people enjoy it, or some innuendo to be NSFW. i also do not consider swearing, even as tho a sailor might, to be NSFW.
are NSFW interactions ok?
in short: no. while i have no aversion to to that sort of thing, and often actually enjoy it, i keep this blog SFW. the intention behind my art is to be SFW even when it might be skirting the line. in general, and especially, specifically with mlp, i do not wish to have NSFW interactions on the internet. please respect this boundary.
on shipping:
in my opinion, all romance real or fictional should be between people who are similar in age, doing age appropriate things, not closely related, and all with mutual consent. i am not interested in witnessing or interacting with anything outside of these parameters.
on my blue hair and pronouns:
i am a trans woman. i am also bisexual. i am also poly and demi since im listing things. i am out online becasue i know how important it is to know that you aren't alone.
do i take constructive criticism?
NO 🖕👹🖕 FUCK YOU!!!!!!! GET BLOCKED IDIOT!! unless you are a marginalized person who feels i have unintentionally made you uncomfortable somehow with my art or otherwise. in that case i am sorry and you do me a great favor by calling me out. OTHERWISE FUCK YOU DUMBASS IF YOU DONT LIKE MY ART GO DRAW YOUR OWN 🖕🖕🖕🖕
“i hate bronies”…
i don't necessarily hate you if you self identify with that label. i like to make myself off-putting to keep creeps away. i talk about it more in this post: https://www.tumblr.com/captainzigo/744131513208176640/when-i-say-i-hate-bronies-in-my-header-its
brony?
i don't hold a lot of nostalgia for old brony stuff. infact it's quite the opposite. i was a child when the show came out, and more than that i was a girl. i am not a brony.
do i like g5?
i like all generations of mip including the new stuff. gen 4 is just the one i grew up with
why is my header aurora, bori and alice from the best gift ever?
well that would be because i hate them like a mother hates a child. like the sun hates the moon. like sickly victorian child hates the slightest morsel of bread.
on flurryheart:
i often draw stuff about cozy glow x flurry heart. this is with the understanding that cozy glow spends about a decade turned to stone. nullifying the age gap.
🤓☝️ i think you mean effect, not affect
i am dyslexic. i spell stuff wrong all the time and i type weird. please don't bother correcting me. wooptydoo your brain is wired normally. sending you a medal.
on my username:
i've had the same username since i debuted on the internet. zigo is the name of an oc i made that i dont really talk much about anymore. zigo is a fine enough nickname, and at least one person calls me that irl.
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cosmicstarlatte · 1 year ago
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Coffee Shop (Obey Me!)
━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━
You start a new job at a coffee shop in a popular plaza. You can't help but look forward to a certain regular. ♡
»Characters: Demon Bros + Dia + Barb
»Tags: Fluff, Bulleted Style, GN Reader, LeviLeviLevi-
»Notes: lol when was the last time I made a bulleted fic that wasn't a shitpost???🤯 Just simple short fluff lol, reblogs are appreciated + motivating ♡
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Lucifer:
Always orders a cafe con leche every morning
Keeps interactions short but you learned his name
Always so serious but he does look like a business man
A very very handsome business man cough
After working there for a little bit he admits he likes the way you make his drink & hates when you guys miss each other on days off
One day he comes in normal clothes & you got caught off guard when he made it to the register
"It's my day off but I was craving my usual. I'm glad to see you're here."
Pleaseee you gotta be blushing right now alalfkfldk
You notice the record store bag he's holding & start a fun conversation while its slow
It does get busier & unfortunately have to cut the conversation to both your disappointments
"We can continue this later...maybe over dinner if you're available?"
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Mammon:
Usually gets an icy blended drink, the flavor changes frequently
You see him every other day, it looks like he works at a retail store in the plaza
You thought he was cute & funny despite how loud he could be
One day he defends you against a really rude customer
You say your thank yous & give him his drink for free that day
"Yeah I guess I am a hero. Heroes get free drinks all the time though, ya?"
You couldn't help but laugh & accidentally let slip "you're really cute!"
He starts choking on his drink, stuttering & blushing
He goes silent for a moment before asking, "whaddaya say to a date one of these days?"
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Levi:
Usually orders sweet drinks & likes trying seasonal/limited time things
You've seen him at his job at the anime store in the plaza, since you visit there sometimes
You two are on friendly terms even though he can be awkward
You think he's very cute though, especially when he talks about his passions
You felt like you two were dancing around eachother so you decide to make a move
You drew a Gundam robot on his drink & wrote 'Gun-DAM you're cute!'
You nervously handed the drink & he took it without noticing the drawing on it
You watched as he left the shop,took another sip, then stop as he looked at his drink
You could see he was happily freaking out but then abruptly stop
He looked back to the shop & you waved a shy hello
He ran back inside to make sure, "S-sorry is this a mistake? W-was this for someone else??"
"Look on the bottom"
He raised the cup & looked under
Levi, AkuCon this weekend?
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Satan:
Usually orders a simple cappuccino but will add a flavored syrup occasionally
Comes in often on his breaks
You've seen him working at the bookstore in the plaza
He looks like a simple guy yet very charming
You always notice a book on him & one day you decide to ask what he's reading
You learn you read the same things & start having fun conversations every time he stops by
Eventually he asks you if you'd be able to give your thoughts on his writing
"Sure, I'd be happy to read it if you bring it!"
He gave you a flirty smile
"Actually I was thinking maybe we could hang out...like somewhere that's not here?"
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Asmo:
Always orders an iced vanilla oat milk latte
You see him every few days, really friendly customer that loves to chat & you become friends quick even though you want more
You find out he works at a nearby agency & is an up & coming model
You felt a little intimidated, he could be really famous one day!
Nevertheless you treat him just the same even as those around him changed, he lets you know how grateful he is
One day he comes in upset & tells you the agency is moving across town to a bigger location so he won't be able to see you there anymore
At the same time both of you blurt out
"I still wanna see you!"
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Beel:
You never know with this guy
He works in the sports store across from the cafe
He's always indecisive with the menu & one day just tells you to make whatever
You're his fave barista, he thinks you make the best drinks either way
Doesn't realize he just likes everything & has a crush on you
You can't help but get excited when he looks excited to see you golden retriever energy
You find out he's a foodie type & you guys talk about the local spots around town
"Would you like to check out the new sandwich store that opened a few doors down? Uh...like, maybe a date?"
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Belphie:
Usually orders a hot regular latte but occasionally orders hot chocolate
He appears to be a student as he comes in often to study & always looks tired
One day on your break you decide to chat him up & offer help on the subject he was struggling with
He thought you were cute & was thankful for your help
After a few weeks of tutoring (+some heavy flirting), he passed his exam flawlessly
"Actually can you help me with one other thing?"
"Yeah, what?"
"Would you like to go on a date sometime?"
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Diavolo:
Has a new favorite every week but really likes lattes/teas
You can tell he's important with his assistant present
You wonder why the assistant doesnt just get his order though
Anyway hes hot really friendly & chatty & can tell a few good jokes, you appreciate them!
He always seems reluctant to leave the shop which makes your heart flip
Always leaves a big tip! ... I want him to give me a big tip 😔
The two of you find out you have a lot more in common than you thought
One day he admits that these coffee runs are the things he looks forward to the most since his day is usually very busy & doesn't get much else normalcy
He lets slip that it's mainly seeing you that adds to his joy so he goes all in
"If you're interested, care to join me for dinner this weekend?"
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Barbatos:
Always large orders of a few different drinks (part of his job)
Though you notice he always orders tea for himself & likes to buy different tea blends
He's a very (cute) polite customer, one of the few
You two usually chat as you make his large order & you can't help but fall for him
Knowing he loves to buy limited release tea blends, you usually save him one before the cafe sells out
You never tell anyone about it but:
"I appreciate you always saving me one."
"Oh? How did you know!?"
"I have a friend who stopped by earlier & said it was one of those times they missed out. Yet, there always appears to be one for me even after sell-out. Thank you kindly."
You blush at being found out, "seems I've been caught!"
He chuckles & gives you another shock:
"I've been meaning to ask...will you allow me to take you out one of these days?"
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⬦You might also like: Customer Service︱Devil-Mart ⭐️︱You Are The Father︱MC feeling Insecure
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velvetvexations · 5 months ago
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just need to rant but today i found out that the author of the pills that make you green comics is against the use of transandrophobia as a term and i feel like my heart was ripped out of my chest. literally her comics were so affirming and felt so transmasc positive and now shes reblogging posts saying that "pro transandrophobe" people are like gamergate men. im hurting so much inside and i dont know what to do. i just want somewhere safe, i want safe blogs that are affirming and not always debating whether or not my oppression is real. i feel like even though its so bad for my mental health, the only place where im safe is discourse blogs, because i Know what their stances are, im safe with blogs like yours and corey's, even if seeing the arguments hurt it hurts less than feeling tricked and lied to. im sorry, i dont have anything really Important to say i just needed to vent 🥺😭
maybe, do you know any pro-transmasc blogs that do more positivity rather than engaging in discourse? i think i really need more of that on my dashboard
@tpwrtrmnky As my anon pointed out when I asked if they'd allow me to tag you in this response, you've already deleted the post that inspired this ask and you say you're going to address why you were unsatisfied with it soon, so I'll wait before adding, if you would consent to it, my own commentary. However, I'd appreciate it if you could read what's been written because it's very emotionally moving to me and I feel as though it's important for you to hear it. Thank you.
I want to say to you, anon, that I understand how it feels. Similar things have happened to me, which I won't get into so as to avoid discussion on if the situations are entirely comparable or not because that's not really the point, and it's crushing.
As to your question, as a result of how easily I'm triggered I follow practically no one who ever even mentions queer issues at all so I'm unfortunately not the best to ask for recommendations of that nature. I recently started following Corey's side blog where he sometimes does trying to keep it mostly positive, but since you mentioned him you're probably aware of that'n (corezy if anyone else would like it).
If anyone else has any recommendations please put them in the replies or send me an ask.
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tadpolesonalgae · 5 days ago
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Hi! Is the master list a wip rn? It’s not working for me
Hi! Sorry to commandeer this post but there are a few things I want to say relating to this.
So over the past fortnight or so I've actually seriously been considering deleting my blog, or just stopping writing fanfiction entirely. Most of Two Birds has been deleted and I started getting rid of a few Teeth and Talons chapters, I think all the links to masterlists have been taken down and I've made most of the cbmthy chapters private.
I don't want to mislead anyone by speculating why I've been feeling the way I have, but I'm fatigued, exhausted, demotivated, and I feel used.
Fandom to me is supposed to be about community, not to be taken as charity. That means interacting with writers. Reblogging posts with more than just sorting tags. Commenting something other than asking to be on a taglist.
I want to stress there are over 3,600 of you following me, and yet only the first part of cbmthy, Unchained, and Stockholm Syndrome even a third of you have interacted with. Most stories I write now have around 100-300 hundred notes, a fraction of those being comments or reblogs, which is such a small percentage.
My problem isn't feeling there aren't enough likes/comments/reblogs.
My problem is when I now share a fic with you, less than one twelfth of you are even seeing/acknowledging it.
If you don't like my writing, I'm fine with that; there have been others who have been kind enough to express how much they do enjoy it, and sincere enough that I believe it.
But for anyone who doesn't enjoy my writing anymore, please unfollow me.
If you don't have the time to read the things I write anymore, please acknowledge that and unfollow me.
If you don't have the energy to enjoy fandom anymore, please unfollow me.
I'm more than happy if 100 or so of you enjoy a post, because that's one hundred people who have enjoyed something I've taken the time to write, but the remaining three and a half thousand of you, keeping quiet, not interacting, potentially not even seeing the stories I work hard on, just feel like dead weight.
A drabble, or a head-canon post takes me about two hours to write.
A 2k/3k word fic takes me around five hours to write.
A regular cbmthy chapter can take me up to eighteen hours to write. Not including editing.
So to answer your question: I don't know if it's a wip.
I haven't decided whether or not to fix all the links. I don't even know if I want people to have access to all the stuff I've written.
Hobbies are supposed to be fun, but if the discontent and resentment outweigh my enjoyment, then I have to take a break from it, either temporarily or permanently.
I'd love to write a book one day, and I think having this blog is a great way for me to practice my storytelling, but I can't do any of that if I don't have the will to write.
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guppygiggles · 2 months ago
Text
It is extremely disrespectful to use an artist's work or templates if you are breaking their DNI to do so, especially if you are REPOSTING their work. It's even worse if you BLOCK the artist who has politely asked you to stop.
If I see this, regardless of whether it happened to me personally or not, I am going to block you. You've shown me that you're not capable of respecting artists or their boundaries, and I don't want to risk you doing the same thing to me or my friends.
While I'm on my soapbox -
Most of what I post on this blog is "sfw" in the sense that I primarily draw/write tickling between friends/partners who are clothed, or maybe just have their tickle spots out. That is primarily what I'm into... I like fluff, cuddling, and playful tickles between friends and partners the most. I get sad a lot, tickling makes me feel better, and it usually doesn't go much further than that.
I've talked about this before, but sometimes, tickling is more intimate than that for me. I'm not going to talk about my sex life with my spouse on this blog, but suffice to say, it's not "SFW." When I draw/write Casper and Avery together, sometimes what they do reflects the more intimate side of tickling. I am sensitive to the fact that some people might not like that, which is why I have a tag for it.
Some people are into tickling and are sex repulsed. Non-sexual kinks are a thing. That is completely okay, but that is not me.
I was raised to be ashamed of sex, kinks, fetishes, and even my own body. I am now secure in the knowledge that there is nothing "nasty" or wrong about intimacy -- including sex and kinks -- between consenting adults (yes there is more nuance here, but don't lose the forest for the trees, now).
You can put whatever you want in your DNI, that's your right and I will respect your DNI no matter what it says, but I'd ask you to consider: If you have "kink/fetish DNI" in your bio, what do you really have a problem with... is it that someone might have a fetish or a kink toward tickling -- regardless of whether it is sexual or not, and regardless of whether they post/reblog porn or not -- or is it just that you don't want to see a bunch of naked people being tickled on your dash every day...? Because if it's the latter... same. I come to this hellsite for art and stories, mostly for comfort, not to watch porn. I don't care if those blogs follow me, but I don't follow them back.
When I see people demonizing sex/kinks as a whole, calling it nasty, saying it's wrong, etc... that's beyond the pale for me. That type of language calls me back to my regressive and ignorant upbringing and that's not something I want to engage with, so I'm not going to follow you if I see that, and I'd honestly prefer you not follow me, either (since, y'know... I'm making that intimate content you hate.)
Sorry this got so long, I don't really like making posts like this and I try to keep it to a minimum, but I felt something needed to be said.
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just-some-random-blogger · 2 years ago
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hello gorgeous! if you don't mind modern au, i have an idea. if you don't feel like writing anything it'd be great to hear your thoughts abt it. daemon x wife!reader (who's somehow connected with magic but not targaryen) who are devoted to each other like madly in love. before daemon has to go to war they're saying goodbyes kissing, crying and not being able to let the other go. feeling like something's off he says smth like "i'll find you in another life. i'll find you in any time we'll be existing. i will love you any time i am alive" (in high valyrian or calling her some name in it) kissing her knuckles and going away. unfortunately, he was right. reader died some way while he was away and he remains faithful to her for the rest of his life (oc but whatever) and in the modern world he does find her. maybe targaryens are some sort of royal family, maybe they keep a family business or an ordinary family with lots of relatives. but he fins the reader and they somehow just feel. sorry if it's too much. i'd really like to read something about it but it absolutely ok if you don't feel like it. thank u in advance! take care!
Waiting For A Lifetime
Part 1 2 3 ?
Daemon Targaryen x Reader + Aegon Targaryen x Reader cos it just sorta happened
Summary: Overcome by grief, Daemon turned to black magic to revive you. Moved by pity, the witch who casted the spell promised you would live until you met your love again in his next life.
Word Count: 3k+
Warnings: Modern AU, fem!reader, mentions/depictions of death/still birth/war, my pretty boy aegon whom i would die for, angst, fluff, typos, etc.
A/N: i saw this last night when i woke up in the middle of my sleep and couldn't stop thinking about it. I changed a lot about your req nonnie. I do hope you still like it though. I absolutely could not help myself with this one and I got so carried away T_T also a lot of facts about the Targaryens have distorted so just just just roll with it ok ok ok thank you And yes i know this is a gif from the crown but i love it so much the hat falling off the kiss ITS EVERYTHING I WANT TO BE HERRRRRRRRRRRRR also i do acknowledge the fact that this anon came to me with this idea after i reblogged this amazing moodboard sooooo yeah i think this post sparked this fic idea lol ALSO ALSO ALSO 2022 MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!! LOVE YA ALL imagine seeing this post in like 2032 or smth shit thats like 35 years from now Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony pssst i made p2 "Never Before"
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Daemon's face was streaked with tears and sorrow. His eyes were bloodshot and his voice was as sure as it was grave as he repeated the word he uttered to the shaman, "anything."
She looked at him, able to taste the desperation in the air, "even if it costs your life, prince?"
Daemon looks at his love before him, his love that was carrying his child. He places his bloody palm on the gaping wound on her stomach.
"Your child will not live even if she does."
Daemon screws his eyes shut tightly. He begins to quiver in anger, in grief, in pure sorrow. He mutters, "anything," he slowly opens his eyes to gaze upon her lifeless face, "better it me than her. There is no world worth living without her."
The woman narrows her eyes at the prince. She knew he was the Targaryen, once heir, known to be rugged and harsh. The Rouge Prince. Yet, there was no trace of malice within his being, only what she would describe as true devotion, true love.
"So, may it be done by the gods old and new," she says, drawing the prince's attention to her, "I will plead for her soul that she may live."
Daemon watches the witch, as she stands to her feet from the ground they were both sprawled on, in front of the body of the dead woman.
"I will plead that she may live long enough to meet you again in another life, so that you may have the love you have now once more."
"Another life?"
"Yes," she says, "the gods recreate humans they are pleased with to grace the earth again. I am certain they will let you be reborn to be with her again. I will make it certain."
Daemon grabs the cold hand that was beginning to stiffen.
"Although, I am unsure if they will allow you to remember her."
"I will remember her," Daemon retorts, kissing the hand of his love, "I will remember her no matter form I take... I will, I must."
"So it remains to be seen," she says before speaking out her incantation.
And it would not be seen until nearly 2000 years later.
The times have changed drastically. Women wore pants and voted. Men where made to take more responsibility for their actions, though still got away with things.
And yet...
... my love for him never faded.
Every prince that was born and named Daemon, I hoped would finally be him. It went about like this century after century, war after war, plague after plague, rise after fall. I had feared the Targaryens would die out, but they proved to be as strong as the very foundations of the earth.
And it took the televised of the marriage of Viserys XXIX to Duchess Aemma of Eyrie for me to see the face of my love: Daemon, the Wild Child, the Knight of Knickers, as penned by the press. Ultimately, the prince of my heart.
I burst into tears when I saw his cheeky face as he nudged his brother at the isle. I pressed my hands on the screen, thinking to myself, the wait was finally over, he was finally here.
All that was left was for me to meet the Prince of Valyria.
Yes. That would be no problem at all.
Except it was, because Daemon was just as mad as he was in this life as he was in the last.
After all, he did not get those nicknames from the press for nothing.
I used up so many of my resources to even just get a glimpse of him. It was hard to catch him in one place. I mostly caught him with a scandalous headline in the cover of magazines and newspapers.
Tonight, it was a newspaper.
"You know," the bartender taps his finger on my newspaper that was sprawled out on his bar, "he's a frequent here."
I turn to the blonde, in his white dress shirt, black waist apron, and black slacks. I raise a brow as he purses his lips as though the information was ground breaking. He wipes on a glass with his blue towel.
"Gee, Aegon," I lean on the surface before me, "I would have never guessed that from the picture on the wall."
I nod at the said picture. It's one of Daemon and the current owner of the bar, Tywin Lannister, who also happened to own Lannister Land Corp, shaking hands. Oh, Lannisters.
"Hey," Aegon shrugs, pulling his lips down in a nuff-said manner, "it had to be said, since you're literally the only patron here that has not interrogated me with questions about the Knight of Knickers."
I snort, "then allow me to change that," I rest my head on my hand, "is he truly so dashing that his looks practically steal the knickers of the ladies around him?"
Aegon finishes buffing his glass and puts it down, looking up in thought, "mmm, I think it's mostly cause he's a prince that he's got the effect he's got. I've got no idea what possessed the first girl to throw her panties at him."
I giggle, "are you saying the prince is ugly?"
"Bit harsh, innit," Aegon pulls back, getting another glass, rubbing it down with his towel, "your words, not mine."
I roll my eyes, shaking my head, as I laugh at the light haired boy's muses, "you know, if we had been living at the height of the Targaryen rule, Daemon would have had your head for that, pretty boy."
"Gods, to be beheaded," he sighed, "a dream, rather than working here, taking about some monarch who lives off the money of the people."
I snort once more. Aegon's face softens as he breaks into a laugh himself.
"No, but honestly," he says putting down the glass and the towel, "you, my dear, are my saving grace. The highlight of my begrudgingly stretched out day," he stretches out a hand to me.
I chuckle at him as I take his hand. He presses a kiss on the back of it, making me grin at him in amusement.
"You're the only sane person here," he releases my hand, "everyone else is so desperate to brush shoulders with the prince, or simply even catch a of whiff of his flatulence."
I break out into a fit of chuckles, slamming firmly at the wood between us.
"No, I'm serious! I heard the fittest gal, a total bombshell, boasting with pride about how she managed a sniff of the bloke's fart."
I'm wheezing with laughter, unable to believe what I'm hearing.
Aegon releases a deep and dramatic sigh, "what has the world come to?"
I wipe a tear as Aegon watches me empty myself of laughter. His face crinkles in a pleased expression, Adam's apple bobbing as he chuckles airily.
I sigh, catching my breath, "well, if I ever become that desperate, I ask that you pray for my soul."
Aegon presses his palms together, "praying for that girl as we speak."
I chuckle, folding the newspaper before me, "I must say, I am actually desperate to meet the wild child myself."
Aegon drops his hands along with his humored expression.
I cannot help but laugh at him as I continue to fold the paper, "though, I would say I am the desperate kind that is so desperate..." I eye him as I press the grey material together, "that I, somehow, dread to meet him at all."
Aegon snorts, screwing his eyes shut as he wipes his face, "the Stranger. Don't say things like that! I nearly had a heart attack believing you."
"No, but it's true, Aegon!" I say with a faux wounded pout, "prince Daemon is my great love, we have been destined to meet for millennia!"
Aegon leans on the table, humming as he nodds his head, "yes, and I suppose I am Aegon the Conqueror."
I lean towards him and grab his jaw, "no, you look more like Aegon II. The spitting image, I dare say."
He scoffs, swatting me off, "I'm hotter than him."
I pull away, "yes. That I can agree with, pretty boy. Personal hygiene does wonders."
Aegon snorts and plays off the blush on his cheeks by wiping his nose with his thumb, "you speak as though you met him."
I straighten up, "that's because I have. He was once my nephew."
He narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. His face contorts at the thought.
I raise my brows at him, "have I not told you I am not only a Targaryen historian, an expert at that, but I am also a patron of the Museum of Ice and Fire? I'm married into their family."
"Okay," he raises a finger, "ew."
I snort.
Aegon lifts his jaw and hums, "well, now that you mentioned it, I always knew you were one of those insanely rich blokes who frequent here. I was thinking you were a mafia boss or something though."
I scoff in amusement, raising my brows at him.
He pushes his white sleeves up then raises his hand in defense, "you have a very intense aura about you."
"That's because you trigger my fight mode," I retort.
He huffs, "do I? I'm scared to know what you'll do to me when I've seen what you do to men who hit on you."
"Aww, don't worry," I coo, "I wouldn't hurt my pretty, baby boy."
Aegon doesn't get to reply when a customer calls his attention. With this, he pulls away and leaves me to my own devices.
We don't get to continue our conversation at all, for it was clear that the rush hour had begun.
I eventually pulled back and decided to entertain myself while my favorite bartender was busy. I swiveled on my stool, looking out to the room, spotting the jukebox collecting dust in the corner. I smile at the sight of it, thinking about how it was still here after all these years, in spite of being older than Aegon.
I stand from my seat and walk over to it.
Aegon, finding one patron missing, frantically looks around then calms, raising a brow.
I place my hands on the jukebox, bending over to check if it was plugged in.
Aegon snorts as he hands a man a beer, eyes not at all fixed on him, "that doesn't work, love."
"Mmm, ye of little faith."
Aegon is annoyed by the man that sits on the vacated stool, blocking his vision. In retaliation, he blocks out the sound of his voice. Aegon calls out, "if you can make that hunkajunk work, I'll clear your tab for you."
I chuckle as I pull the machine forward, checking its wiring, "I wouldn't want to make a kid working on minimum wage to pay for me at all."
"I only said I would clear your tab, doll face," is all he replies before he goes back to tending to drinks again.
I break into chuckles as I fiddle with the wires on the back. I admit, it took me quite a while to go through everything, which was why Aegon warned that he would not call an ambulance for me if I got electrocuted.
The sight of the jukebox coming to life was enough to shut him up.
I get to my feet with a huff, brushing my hands off with each other. I turn to Aegon, who was already looking at me in astonishment, along with a few other people in the room.
I smirk, "my tab then?"
"Good as gone," Aegon shakes his head in disbelief, cutting his hand across his neck.
I release a satisfied sigh as I punch at the hardened buttons and play whatever it was that was available to be played.
When the music starts, I close my eyes and allow myself to drift off with the music. The sound brings back some memories I had in the 1940's. If I recall correctly, it was around this time Daemon's father, King Baelon, was crowned.
I slowly moved to the rhythm of the song, swaying my hips, waving my extended arms out as I made my way to the center of the room.
Aegon stilled in his spot upon seeing this. His breath caught in his throat and he was only brought back to reality when someone demanded a gin. He looked around the room as he poured that idjit his drink and clenched his jaw tightly when he saw the onlooking crowd.
He snorts loudly, grabbing his towel, throwing it over his shoulder roughly, clearing his throat with more noise than necessary.
I smile to myself when I hear Aegon's familiar coughing. He had a tendency to do this whenever men around me started to be a bother. And I loved him dearly for it. He was a sweet boy.
With my eyes still closed, I continue dancing to the soothing song. My smile grows bigger when a section comes that tickles my musical senses. I chuckle as I twirl in my spot.
When I felt a hand come to my waist, I didn't have to open my eyes to know it was Aegon. He wouldn't have let anyone come near me at all without barking up a storm.
I hummed at the scent of him, familiar yet foreign to me at once. He must have changed his cologne. I prefer this one better. He pulls me close when I reach out to him, grabbing one of his hands and placing a palm on his shoulder. His dress shirt is softer than what I imagined it to be.
I am surprised when he leads us into a ballroom dance. In fact, I am so shocked, I open my eyes and see a blur of his white shirt and blonde hair as he spins me around.
I break into a fit of chuckles, screwing my eyes shut in pure bliss when he dips me, "I had no idea you were a dancer, pretty boy."
"Yes, well, journalists don't find it interesting enough to write about."
My eyes burst open at the sound of the deep voice.
My heart is pounding at the sight of the smirking man with silver hair. I nearly faint at the violet irises so close to mine.
"I do say," his hot breath fans on my face, "if we were spotted by one now, they'd have a field day."
I jolt upright and shove the man away. He doesn't seem to be offended by my harsh actions, and, in fact, chuckles as he reels back from my action, "not what I had expected and not the reaction I usually get, but there's a first for everything."
My breath hitches when he smiles at me. I turn from him, to Aegon, who was staring coldly from his place behind the bar. It seems the rest of the people here were doing the same as well, gobsmacked by the presence of the man in the middle of the room
I roll my shoulders back, turning to my dance partner, "Prince Daemon," I mutter, bowing my head slowly, "pardon my rudeness."
He chuckles, waving me off as he stuffs a hand in his pocket, "oh, no need to be so formal, my dear. I can understand the shock," he tilts his head at me, lips still curved, "you surely weren't expecting to be dancing with the prince and thought me to be someone else, no?"
I look at him and stare in silence. For the first time in my life, I was at a loss for words.
Everything was suddenly so real, and it was making my mind and my heart race.
Aegon watches this and clears his throat loudly.
It does not help anyone.
Daemon raises his brows at me in expectation, placing his other hand in his pocket as he leans on one leg.
I open my mouth. A second passes before I mutter, "I thought you were my pretty boy."
His lips spread into a toothy grin. Airy chuckles leave him, "I can be your pretty boy."
When he extends his hand out to me, it was like the heavens opened and I could hear the angels sing.
This was the moment I have been waiting for since that day that I came back to life and kissed him goodbye with a promise of finding him in his next one.
My breath was heavily taxed when I lifted my hand.
My soul nearly leaves me when I jolt in shock over the sound of a record scratching and jumping, repeating over and over again.
In that moment, I am hit by an epiphany. I am so overwhelmed with emotions that I could barely breathe. The sight of Daemon before me brought tears to my eyes. This was all I ever wanted, and yet-- and yet-- I was drowning. I could not breathe properly.
"I..." I shudder, making Daemon's face fall, "I have to go," I mutter through a strained breath.
Daemon knits his brows, shifting in his spot with his hand still out, "what?"
Aegon watched with tightly knit brows as I ran out of the room.
The prince drops his hand and spins on his heels, eyes locked on the runaway. His nostrils flare as his face contorts in confusion, "wait! Stop! Where are you going?!"
I heave heavily as I push past people on my way out. I am absolutely winded when I exit the establishment, hands shivering from both the cold and the nerves that were getting to me in this moment.
I walk aimlessly farther out, down to the lawn that was now dark, since it was gods-know-what hour.
"Wait!"
My heart drops.
I spin around when someone grabs my wrist. My heart is still quick in my chest when I see Daemon, heaving. His short, light hair was slightly tousled in its place. He knits his brows at me, tilting his head, "you dare leave your prince, Cinderella?"
My jaw hangs low.
He releases a sigh, shaking his head, "I forbid it."
Seeing him here and now made everything feel more Real with a capital R.
Daemon adjusts his grip on my wrist, pulling his hand back, so that he was now holding my hand.
I look at him, blinking the glassiness of my eyes away, still in shock of his presence. A million questions were running through my head, and I was glad to be able to even have the mind to ask one in this moment, "do you know me, Daemon?"
He tilts his head upon hearing this, brows knitting, lips curving. He releases a chuckle at the lack of formality and how haphazard the question was, but finds himself further drawn because of it, "no," he shakes his head, "but I would love to know you."
Hearing the words come out of his mouth shatters something in me.
He did not know me.
I turn away from him as I try to even my breath. I retreat my hand and step back as a shiver runs down my spine.
And yet here he was, chasing after me.
Daemon steps forward to make up for the space between us, "don't leave. Come back inside with me. I'll give you my coat, then you can boast that the prince of Valyria gave it to you."
I continue stepping back as I shake my head, "you don't understand," I mutter under my breath in High Valyrian.
"Then make me understand," he retorts in the same tongue with a chuckle as he shakes his head and takes a wide stride over to me, grabbing my hand again.
I gasp at the warmth of his touch. When I turn back to him, tears have finally fallen from my eyes.
Daemon's face hardens at the sight of it. His hand reaches out to my face, wiping the wetness away. The sight of his torn expression tears at me, bringing me more tears.
"Why are you crying?" he asks in High Valyrian.
I do not get to reply, as suddenly there is a loud burst from behind us, commanding both our attentions.
It's Aegon. He busted through the door with my things in his hand. Upon catching the sight of the two of us, he freezes, breathing heavily as the looks out.
Daemon's expression hardens; his grip on me tightens. He turns to me, jealousy coating his mouth when he catches I where I am looking, "is that your pretty boy?"
I do not reply to him as Aegon walks over.
Daemon pulls me close to him. I look up at him with teary eyes. Aegon looks between us, jaw tense as he hands me my bag, coat, and newspaper.
"Thank you, bartender," Daemon dismisses, patting Aegon on the shoulder, before turning from him to face me again.
When I catch Aegon's face, I finally have the wits to move.
I pull away from Daemon to put my coat on. I swallow a heavy lump in my throat at feel of the stares of the two men.
Once I have my coat on, I pull a card from my bag, handing it to Daemon. He wastes no time in taking it from me, immediately scrutinizing it.
"I'd..." I start, taking a deep breath, "like to see you again."
Daemon's eyes dart to me, breaking into a smile.
Butterflies explode in my stomach at the sight of him.
Aegon's face tenses.
I release a breath before asking, "when are you fr-"
"Whenever," Daemon blurts. He places the card in the breast pocket of his white shirt, "I'm free whenever."
I nod slowly at his words, "I have work tomorrow, but I do have a long lunch at 12-
"I'll call you a 11:55."
I purse my lips at his words, trying to hold back my chuckle, but failing, "11:55?"
Daemon grins, nodding once, "on the dot."
I chuckle, turning to my feet as I nod at his words, "11:55 then."
"On the dot," he nods, extending a hand out to rub his thumb on my cheek.
I turn to him just as Daemon pulls away and stuffs his hands back in his pockets, "I'll walk you."
I shake my head, turning to Aegon, who was still standing there, watching the whole interaction between us, "you don't have to. I have a car parked nearby."
"Then I'll walk you to your car."
I turn back to Daemon, who then offers his arm out to me. I smile, unable to deny him, or myself, of the offer. I take his arm, and the next moment, he leads us off.
I turn over my shoulder, raising a hand at Aegon while I offer him a smile, "see you, Aegon."
Aegon watches as I turn back.
There is a twisted feeling inside him that grows. He mutters softly. It is too soft for anyone but himself to hear, "see you."
1K notes · View notes
angelkhi · 2 years ago
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kiss it better - j.m
pairing: dilf!joel miller x babysitter!reader
summary: turns out joel is trained in first aid, among other things.
warnings: SMUT (18+ Minors DNI) oral (f), fingering, masturbation (m), age gap, creampie but not technically p in v, cumplay i guess, squirting? cum eating/swapping(???), praise, an inkling of overstimulation, hair pulling, needy joel, some dirty talk / bad language, nicknames: dove, pretty girl, sweet girl, idk just some down right dirty shit with some feeling, mentions of injury (a scraped knee and elbow), age gap, slight hurt comfort, grumpy bucky, kinda sweet ending. very sorry if i missed anything!
word count: 2.4 k
a little note: hi! this shit is nasty soz xx i wrote this for bucky but changed it to pre-outbreak joel cause yeah, also not proofread cause i don’t like reading my own shit, and sarah is like 5 in this, also if u know me no you don’t, okay love ya x likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏾
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"You, kitchen. I'll be down in 10."
You'd listened of course, planting yourself on the kitchen counter and awaiting his return, but those 7 simple words left you fidgeting for the entire 10 minutes he was gone.
Joel walks into the room without a word, puts the bright red first aid box on the counter next to you and pulls up a stool. You can't help but watch his fluid movements, admiring his grace and precision even in the smallest of movements. All of them are deliberate, calculated.
"This is gonna sting a bit." He rips open an alcohol wipe, sliding a hand behind your knee to keep you in place. "Deep breath for me."
"Joel, I can sort it myself- mother fucker!" You start to protest but he presses the wipe against your broken skin, the sting unexpected despite his prior warning.
"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Joel smirks, wiping over your knee once more, his fingers digging into your flesh when you try to pull away from him. "Keep still."
"I told you I'd sort it." You mumble.
"Stop being so proud for 10 minutes. Let me help you."
"But..."
He sighs, finally looking up at you. You're not sure if it's the intensity of his stare, or the fact that he's hunched over you, touching you so gently, as though a scraped knee just might break you, but that sigh defeats you.
"Okay."
Silence falls over you again and you continue to watch him work, smiling when he fiddles with small bandage and adds a princess sticker for good measure.
"I'm sorry about earlier. Didn't mean for such a dramatic entrance but you know Sarah, she's..."
"Stubborn and bossy."
"I was going to say strong minded and competitive. Like her father." His brow quirks subtly, but you pretend not to notice it.
"So... stubborn and bossy." Joel smiles, still completely focused on bandaging your knee, "There you go, all patched up."
You nod, unsure of what to say all of a sudden. Joel fills the silence.
"I've missed you." Three simple words, that probably would've had little effect on you if they hadn't come from him.
"You saw me yesterday Joel."
"You know that's not what I mean dove." He glances up at you, just for a second, but a second is all he needs to know you understand. Of course you understand. You've spent the better part of a year trying not to miss him.
"Always so proud. It's okay to let people help you."
"My pride took quite the hit today thank you very much, your kid is way too good at tag." Joel chuckles, and your bruised pride heals a little, knowing that you had made him laugh. The way that his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunches, the almost giggle. You want to commit it to memory. To keep them it your pocket safe and tight for when you needed it. Even as his soft eyes bore into your own, silently demanding an answer to his statement.
"Thank you, Doctor Miller. I'd better be going." It's cowardly, barely even a whisper, almost drowned out by the low hum of the fridge.
But you don't move though and nether does he. Joel smooths the bandage over your knee, his lingering thumb quickly replaced by his soft lips. Joel gazes up at you as he rose from his knees, his hands sliding up your legs with each fluid movement. His hands move on their own accord, across your thighs, skimming your hips and waist, moving up and up until he's cradling your jaw.
"I wanna keep you in just a little while longer for observations, doctors orders" You lean into his touch, hyper aware of how close the pair of you suddenly are.
"Hmm. Okay Doctor Miller, any other remedies... since you insist." You're breathless, the air in the room seeming none existent as you bend to his will.
"I can think of one."
He bunches your skirt up around your waist in one swift motion, urging you to lay back against the cool marble countertop. His lips are full and warm against your skin, lingering on the inside of your knee, his fingers holed in the side of your panties, dragging them ever so slowly down your thighs. Joel's every movement is slow and deliberate, as though he's trying to savour each and every part of the moment.
"Such a pretty cunt." A small burst of cool air against your exposed pussy pushes you closer to the edge of desperation. Joel's hair tickles your inner thighs, his soft shirt brushing the back of your knee
"Tell me you missed me." He's so close to where you need him, practically dangling himself on a string. "Tell me how much you missed me touching you like this."
Joel finally touches you, his thumb circling your hole, watching you clench around nothing desperately spread out on his kitchen counter willing to take anything he'll give you.
"Missed you, Joel. So much." He hums, pride seeping out of his pores, dark eyes flickering when you say his name.
"Fuckin my hand to the thought of you was torture dove. Nothin compares to this perfect little thing." His lips purse and a small burst of cool air brushes over your clit. You grow more and more desperate the closer he gets, you're practically offering yourself up on a silver platter and he chooses now to take his sweet time?
Your fingers thread through his shaggy locks, prompting him to do something or you'll do it yourself. Joel' laugh is quick and breathless, his eyes slipping shut when you lightly scratch at his scalp.
He leans forward, tongue dragging from your entrance to your throbbing clit. Your fingers tighten in his hair and he groans pulling back to speak.
"Just as sweet as I remember." He takes another moment, then his head is between your thighs.
You're not sure if it's been hours or minutes but Joel's head is still buried between your thighs, lapping at your clit and weeping hole like a starved man. Every time you think he'll give you some sort of a reprise, he just gives you more. Fucking an extra finger into you each time he comes up for breath, or simply just toying with your clit, enjoying the way you respond so diligently to his every touch.
Your hands find the edge of the counter out of sheer desperation, too scared you'll pull at his hair too harshly in this marathon of touching, that is at least until Joel's movements stop abruptly, his head lifting from between your.
"Joel, are you okay?" His large hands wrap around your wrists, prying your hands off of the marble and back into his soft hair.
"Don't stop-" he presses a sweet kiss to your thigh "-feels so fuckin' good."
He wastes no time getting back between your thighs, bringing you back to that ledge he'd left you on. The soft point of his nose brushes against your clit, your hands grasping his hair with fervour. Joel's moan is low and deep, vibrating from his lips right to your open cunt. The knowledge that you're giving him just a fraction of what he's giving you makes your chest swell, and you bet that if you had to energy to lift your head and look down on him, his trousers would be uncomfortably tight and his hips Joeling up at nothing.
He curls his fingers, hooking them perfectly against where you need him, his hand moving at an unnatural pace. You try to stay quiet so not to wake the little girl asleep upstairs, but you're being torn apart from the inside out and Joel's muffled sounds do nothing but spur you on. Once his lips pucker against your clit and his fingers rest on that perfect spot, you're finished. Torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer, you simply just let it happen, let him coax your body through a perfect orgasm until you have no choice but to push the gluttonous man away.
"So fuckin' pretty. Look at ya, all mine." He's breathless, supporting your now upright frame between his muscular arm and chest. He presses his soft lips to yours, and it's a mess of nipping and sucking. His tongue brushes up against yours slowly and deeply, the taste of your own orgasm lingering on your lips.
"Just one more. Gimme one more yeah? So fucking good for me dove." You nod, something between a hoarse sigh and a whimper when he asks for verbal confirmation. He slides two long fingers back into you with ease, right back with that bruising pace, watching with dark eyes as you grind your clit on the ball of his palm.
"That's it, I've got you sweet girl. Give it to me." Joel's efficient when he works your body. He enjoys how you clench around his fingers when your orgasm builds, or how your swollen clit respond so well to his touch. He likes it when you push your fingers into his broad shoulders, anchoring yourself to him. He fucking loves it when you muffle the high pitched scream in his shoulder, teeth digging into his skin slightly as you release over his hand.
Dark grey spots linger on the cotton of his joggers from where you'd gushed all over him, but he doesn't care. Joel cradles your face, taking you in, his own little slice of heaven on earth. His.
Your nimble fingers tug the waistband of his joggers until they're just low enough to release him from their confines. His fingers brush over yours, moulding them against him, guiding you to palm his cock in a tight fist. Joel's concentrated gaze flickers between your glistening thighs, your pretty eyes, your half parted lips, your wet pussy spread out just for him. He's frantic, chasing pleasure from your white knuckled fists.
You slip your hand free, tracing over the stubble on his chin, fingers trailing around the back of his neck, until they're locked in his hair again. Your grip is rough when you tip his head back slightly, and he shudders against you, hips chasing his fist.
You relinquish in the small amount of power, the new feeling sending a rush down your spine. His lips rest against yours, his soft noises brushing against your skin.
"You gonna let me make a mess of this cunt, huh? Gonna let me come all on your pretty pussy."
"Joel please."
"Fuck. You're too good to me." He's whining for you. Fucking whining, and it's all because of you. Joel's hips stutter and thrust into his hand, the thick head of his cock bumping against your sensitive nub, extracting every last ounce of pleasure from your already spent body.
"Joel, come inside of me. Please Joel, you're always so good to me, let me be good for you." His hips slow as he takes in your words, your hands on him. He works himself over with his fist once more before he grips himself at his thick base pressing himself against your sensitive clit once again. He slides himself down, down, until the head of his dick is pressed against your waiting hole.
The familiar stretch of him pushing into you has you whimpering, still so sensitive. Joel's breath stutters and his hands grip your hips as he fucks his tip into you. His thrusts are quick and shallow as he gets himself off and you're muttering against his lips how good he feels, how pretty he looks, how much you love it when he takes what he needs. You scratch at his scalp, and grip his hair that little bit tighter and he's keening over, pressing his lips to yours. His eyes squeeze shut and he whines into your mouth as he pumps himself empty inside of you.
He works swiftly, removing himself from your warmth, sliding you to the edge of the counter and falling to his knees.
"Fuckin perfect." He mutters to himself, watching as his spend leaks out of you, fingers toying with the mess he made. He drags his soft wet tongue against you, once, twice, slipping into your used cunt until you're clawing him away beyond over-sensitive.
But then he's up, and in front of you and you're reading and waiting knowing what he's about to give you and you're willing to accept it. He kisses you, the mixture of your slick and his come on his tongue. You take it, the debauchery act pushing you so far past the point of desire. His fingers still move against you, still playing with your clenching cunt until you're seeing stars.
"Joel, too much."
"M'sorry dove." He says, pulling his fingers away from you and sucking them into his mouth.
He moves quickly, reaching for a cloth and some of his pyjama pants from the washing pile on the dining table. He's careful when he runs it over your thighs and in between your legs, holds you carefully when he helps you down from the counter and slips you into the sleep trousers that are far too big. He's soft and warm and careful and everything in between when he holds you against his chest.
"Joel..." He hums. "I don't want to miss you anymore."
You pull away to look up at him, terrified that you'd misread the situation, that your cloudy brain and lingering crush on the father next door has made you overstep the mark.
"Don't wanna miss you either dove." His lips brush yours.
He seems nervous, it's beyond sweet, but you'd never felt so light, so relieved. "Stay?"
"What about Sarah?"
"Please, she's been begging me to date you for months." Oh.
"And what do you want?" His soft thumbs stroke your lips whilst he holds your gaze, soft yet demanding.
"I wanna take you out to dinner. Want you next to me when I wake up in the mornings. I want you to sit on my face til your crying. Wanna give you everything you want, no matter how ridiculous, I just want you, if you'll let me." Oh. Big oh. You pull him close, resting a hand over his quick beating heart, worried it just might give out.
"You already have me."
He flashes a toothy grin, his blue eyes sparkling even in a dimly lit room. He kisses you slow and sweet, pouring every ounce of care an affection into your lips making it certain. You absolutely already have him too.
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ghostwiththeemost · 3 months ago
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ FROM THE CRADLE TO CREMATION . . . DEATH JUST NEEDS A LITTLE CONVERSATION ~ !࿐ྂ
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Hey babes~ seems ya found my blog! Welcome to my humble abode. You may be asking “who is this SEXY SEXY man?” Well I’ll tell ya! I’m Behjdbbdnf… Beejkbngd… Bug wine. 🪲🧃. Use the emojis babe. I can’t type my own fucking name apparently. How fucked up is THAT?! Ugh, anyway… Let’s get onto the real shit. I’m the boss bitch here, you should hire me to get some shitty humans out of your beloved home. Or, call me up to fuck. Either works.
Alright, alright. People put their info and shit so I’ll do just that. I’m 🪲🧃, but ya can call me “sexy” or “handsome” or “sweets” or “pretty boy” or anything ;)~ Kay, moving on! I’m the ghost with the most, the biggest dick in town babe. He/him, but I can also be your/yours~ ;) I don’t care for labels, I’m a sexual beast. You wanna talk? Talk. You wanna flirt? Flirt. Send nudes? Eeeehhhh… Probably not, sorry sweetheart. I’d totally say yes, but that’d get me banned.
Anything else? Yeah, a lot actually. Ask me about shit. I’m over 600 years old, I’ve seen a lot, done a lot, witnessed a lot, I’m the fuckin best. I mean look at me, I’m the coolest ghost in town! ;)~ Also the best dick. DEFINITELY the best dick.
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Well well well! Quite Fancy seeing you back here! Yet ANOTHER wonderful roleplay blog, and even a BETTER character?!?!??!?!1 WOAHHHHH! Wowie!
Hi! I'm the wonderful mod behind this obnoxious green ghoul of a man, and I hope you can stay a bit, have a seat, chat a bit! Learn a bit, see some tags behind this wonderful super duper cool page, yakknow how it is!
The name's Dew! Dewey if you wanna be fancy, but nah, I'm just a guy on the internet here to write for his funny bug man. No formalities needed. The pronouns are HE/SHE! I'm Genderfluid and Gay!
Kay, mini bits of info here... I'm an adult! So that being said I'm going to keep a boundary on certain aspects such as some forms of nsfw and SOME ships. Mostly I don't care? I'd just prefer if you were to tell me or have your age in bio before deciding to imply nsfw ROLEPLAYS. Flirting or nsfw anons I don't really care about, it's bound to happen, but you get it. also beetlebabes dni you all SUUUUUCKKKK.
Let's see... I have some other accounts. @candycoffinss , @photographerstanheight , @screamingqueenxoxo ... Other stuff, we'll see what I reveal.
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Right, right... Tags and extra info... |🪲| ~ 𝑴𝑶𝑫 𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑲𝑺! - This is me talking!! >:] |🪲| ~ 𝑩𝑬𝑬𝑻𝑳𝑬𝑱𝑼𝑰𝑪𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑺𝑾𝑬𝑹𝑺! - Replies to asks, you know how it is. |🪲| ~ 𝑩𝑱’𝑺 𝑽𝑰𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑺! - call for interacts maybe?? |🪲| ~ 𝑩𝑬𝑬𝑻𝑳𝑬𝑱𝑼𝑰𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑲𝑺! - Random yapping he does, reblogs... etc. |🪲| ~ 𝑩𝑬𝑬𝑻𝑳𝑬𝑱𝑼𝑰𝑪𝑬𝑺 𝑯𝑨𝑼𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺! - Interactions Yeaaaaa
|🪲🔞| ~ 𝑺𝑼𝑮𝑮𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑽𝑬! - yea some things will be suggestive labeled just in case pleeease be cautious tyyy beetlejuice can be a menace.
ALRIGHT! FINAL BIT OF INFO!!!!! This writing of beetlejuice is a mix of everything, but I'm mainly leaning toward Justin Collette's version of Beetlejuice. He's still Beetlejuice of course, but keep in mind he won't be much like Alex Brightman if you're looking for an adaptation of him! (...There will be crumbs tho. Pathetic meow meow...) ANYWAY! Yeah, Just wanted to throw that out there, I didn't know if people would want my head for it LMAOOOO but YEAH!!! I'm free w any interactions btw. other fandoms, other blogs, movie characters, musical characters, do it !! >:] ok I think that's it... until I decide to go bonkers again. thanks for reading if you got this far! smooches ur forehead /p
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hermitw · 2 months ago
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I've been thinking about this reblog of yours for months and I finally figured out how to respond to it.
I went and read No Longer Human by Junji Ito and it was a very upsetting thing to go through. I don't think I can read it again. However, I came out of it thinking that Gege was probably inspired by it.
When Yozo is first introduced, I noticed that Takaba's backstory was very similar. Feeling isolated from others, he decided to become a clown to gain acceptance from others. (Citations in Image Captions)
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And later when Yozo was caught "cheating" (it's in quotes because those women are child rapists), I noticed that her face was really similar to the one Higuruma's client made when he felt betrayed by the trial outcome.
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There's probably a lot more to say about how themes surrounding CSA and suicide in this work are echoed in JJK, but I'm not able to make the post myself. No Longer Human is too far out of my comfort zone in terms of graphic depiction to delve into it deeper.
But you seem strong enough to handle it, so... Idk maybe run with this some more.
Ohhh this is so interesting! I could definitely read No Longer Human again - tbh I read Junji Ito's version years ago. This year I listened to the audio book and bought a copy - but it's like, a draft in the author's handwriting (bc I thought it would help me study Japanese and if I had an English translation that I'd read it on repeat lmao). But you're real for that - I forget how disturbed people tend to be trying to read through it, I'm sorry that was rough.
I did go back to read the reblog and idk how relevant all that was - I've reread the manga since and felt like, oh I might have been misremembering some things like Uraume - idk if they actually had a freeze response in ch. 219, since they did tell Yorozu to back off though it took a minute - but it's also interesting how their CT deals with ice. Like to have a fight response, they freeze others? It's so interesting but I can't be sure whether it's there at all. (ik that yap II inspired some more coherent posts, like how it influenced Choso's self-image, etc., I linked but didn't tag you back then bc I felt Annoying especially w heavy topics but I can definitely go back and find them if you'd like.)
On a twin peaks note (without spoiling it), I feel like it inspired jjk to some extent - I've been feeling like the last chapter will end the way s2 did. Or at least - with the weird dreamy themes, "we are the dreamer who dreams and who lives inside the dream", etc...
But you're right - Yozo and the others' reactions resemble more jjk characters than I would think to connect. Takaba's jokes are truly a shield... And now I have an excuse to read Junji Ito's version again? Thank u so much (also isn't it funny how September 28 Uzumaki airs and September 30 jjk ends?).
I think gege gets inspired by the most tragic stories, I wonder how much of that is accurate but I can't always be convinced otherwise.... Especially when anime / manga series that he's confirmed as influences often deal with autonomy in ways that I couldn't handle (Evangelion, the night beyond the tricornered window).
By the way - ik we've mentioned elfen lied before, but in the first episode, you know that coffee mug? How it looks like jjk foreshadowing? Even has snail head Mahito - cut off-, the baseball, Panda, the worm (also cut off).... and later the newborn babies that look just like Yuuji...
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I swear that elfen lied, Kagewani, and banana fish influenced jjk. It seems so obvious w those, maybe Vampire Princess Miyu as well.
Sorry for getting off topic - I've been looking into why Momotaro keeps coming up in jujutsu kaisen, and in the end it came back full circle to that damn coffee cup. Invest in a baseball team? A zoo? I'm going insane.
All this to say - rereading Junji Ito's version and seeing if I notice similarities between manga panels is so exciting. Gege even made a note that he asked for permission before drawing - I think it was the Uzumaki CT - So we know he's a big fan of Junji Ito. And it seems like there is a rly good chance No Longer Human inspired him as well (though I feel like characters with similar traumas having similar reactions is inevitable to some extent, if they're written in a believable way, it should be clearer when I'm reading both stories in the same format) based on the stories he has officially referenced.
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notsoattractivearenti · 10 months ago
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My Player of The Month (Christian Pulisic x Reader)
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WC: 900+
Warning/Tags: fluff
A/N: hellooooo i'm back for a bit!!! pls consider this as a way to say sorry i haven't finished my holiday fics lol. i had a lot of free time at work today and before i knew it i'd written a fic on the paper – full page front and half on the back! btw hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any errors since it's not proofread! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍 (Y/F/N = Your Full Name)
Christian was just announced as December's Serie A Player of The Month, and after the  home match versus AS Roma, he was pulled to the side of the pitch for a post-match interview. The reporter who interviewed him started with congratulating him for the award then asked him a few questions. One of the questions was what inspired him to do very well on the pitch, especially last month – since he got the POTM title – and before he revealed his inspiration, he looked at Y/N, who was standing a little further on the side, and bit his lip for a short while before his lips formed a wide grin he thought was unnoticeable.
“Umm… My life partner, Y/N. They really motivated me and will always do in the best ways they can and so, whenever I do well on the pitch, they will always get all the credits.” Christian proudly answered.
“I’m better as a player on the pitch and a person off the pitch because of them.” He added without letting Y/N leave his sight.
Y/N heard what Christian said and immediately blushed, then shyly waved their hand off their face trying to deny his ‘claim’. Christian noticed them and giggled.
“Look at them,” as he shamelessly pointed at embarrassed Y/N, “they’re trying to deny it but they know I said nothing but facts!” He laughed. “They get me going, always.”
The reporter let out an “Awww!” so loudly because he was loving the admiration Christian has towards Y/N – not only that, the genuine supportiveness between Y/N and Christian felt like one of a kind, like the world truly revolves around them.
“It feels like it’s Christian Pulisic and Y/F/N’s world and we’re all just living in it!” The reporter laughed.
He then offered to bring Y/N in to join the interview. “Would you bring them here to talk with us?” 
Usually, Y/N and Christian don’t really like to show their relationship off and try to do less PDA (public display of affection) just because they both prefer to keep things between themselves. But this time, Christian decided to show Y/N to the world, so he agreed to bring them in and called Y/N by whistling at them, then signaled Y/N to come join the interview with his hands. Y/N refused at first, so Christian excused himself and came towards them to pick them up himself.
“Come on baby, don’t need to be shy.” He gently whispered while stroking Y/N's shoulder to calm and convince them.
Y/N was nervous because they were not used to being in front of a camera, but at the time, suddenly Y/N felt a change of heart and could no longer refuse Christian.
“Uh… Alright, lead the way…” Y/N reluctantly agreed.
Christian grabbed Y/N’s hand and took them back to the interview spot.
Once Y/N got there and stood in front of the camera, the reporter excitedly greeted them. They weren’t comfortable at first, but with one of Christian’s hands holding theirs and the other hand gently stroking their upper arm, they felt more at ease.
“So, Y/N, how do you feel with Christian winning December’s Player of the Month and credited you as his biggest inspiration?” The reporter asked Y/N.
“Well, I wouldn’t take the credit because I know this guy has worked his butt off the entire time since he joined the club,” they stated, “so all I can say is that with his own hard work and determination that I have the privilege to witness, he’s purely earned the ‘Player of the Month’ title on his own.”
This time, Christian was the one who was blushing like crazy – he was utterly unaware and completely speechless!
“How proud can you say you are of him?” The reporter threw another question at Y/N.
“Oh, proud is an understatement!” Y/N exclaimed.
“I think at this point he is sick of hearing how proud I am of him.” Y/N laughed as they playfully pinched Christian’s cheek .
“But I will never get tired of saying it and will always mean every word.” Y/N continued as they gazed into his eyes.
Everyone who was watching could tell how swoon Christian was – his face couldn’t hide anything at this point.
“See? I do have the best partner in life.” Christian added a little comment as he kissed Y/N’s forehead.
“Oh I can feel my heart melting!” The reporter commented before he closed the interview. “Congratulations once again, Christian, and have a wonderful time celebrating you two!” 
“Thanks for having us!” Christian said while he shook the reporter’s hand before leaving the pitch with you.
As you both walked out the pitch, he whispered at you, “What an answer you had, baby…”
“I know right!? And I don’t even need any media training!” Y/N replied as they jokingly stuck their tongue out at Christian.
“Yeah okay, no need to brag…” Christian shook his head while his hand caressed the top of Y/N’s head.
“By the way, I’ll never get tired of hearing how much you’re proud of me.” He added.
“I know,” Y/N nodded, “because to me, you will always be my player of the month.”
Christian smiled, then leaned in to give a quick yet loving kiss on Y/N’s lips.
taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @brasiliangp @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover
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silenzahra · 4 months ago
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I have a concert tomorrow at this very hour and I'm SO excited and it just got announced on TV and I got so freaking nervous 😂
This means I probably won't be around till Saturday, but I wanted to let you know real quick a few things!
-Even though I'm in the middle of a reader's block right now, please know that I'm saving ALL your stories on my "Marked for later" list on AO3 so that I won't lose track of them when I'm ready to get at them! I truly LOVE your writing and your stories, dear friends, and I really hope I can read them all very soon! 🥰
-Since my new blog is still not properly organized (and this will still take some time), I'd like to let you all know that my old content, both the one I fixed and the one you all saved with your reblogs (💖), can be found under the tag zahra's writing which I've recently started using. That way you can easily find all of my stories and my headcanon posts in case you'd like to! And you're obviously free to use it too if you reblog my stuff 🥰
-Related to this, I know I have yet to properly thank each and every one of you who reblogged my musicians post after I fixed it! I'm sorry I haven't done it yet, but you'll all get proper answers as I deeply appreciate you supporting it even if it's already a few months old 🥰
-And last but not least, I'll continue to check the doc and get at my tags and PMs next week! These last few weeks have been a bit busy/hectic (and emotionally terrible as you know), and I haven't been doing so as much as I should. Hopefully I can finish soon with the doc as I feel so bad to keep you all waiting for almost a month now 😅
With this said, I'm most likely disappearing until Saturday! I truly can't believe I'm literally 24 hours away from relieving this 😭 Wish me luck trying to get some sleep tonight lol, I'm not exaggerating when I say I'm extremely nervous 😂
Love you all so much! 💖
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