#Nylon Bed Socks

[bug-ina-rug]

Aspec representation is important because

"For as long as I can remember, there has been something in me that's been livid and sick and at odds with the world around me."

. . .

"It's an obsession, an interest I've never understood, even when I was still skinny and gangly and was told to have some fun with the other kids" . . . " I thought we'd brave the old tunnels or go out to the fields proper to catch swamp eels and frogs like I was used to with Maiko. Their idea of fun was not that. I left barley having told my name to anybody" (Moonspirited, Anju Imura).

Aspec representation is important because

"And the question is so absurd, it makes Brindle burst into laughter. It is all people seem to care about- single or taken, both words somehow a violence. But there is a space outside those words where Brindle and Fig reside, and it is a part of what makes them so well suited for each other. They are not single, floating through life independently and alone. They are not taken, like a victim of some theft. Perhaps what they are is given, honestly and hopefully, to one another in equal partnership" (Well Suited, Rosiee Thor).

Aspec representation is important because

"and i collect the soul of the doctor who insists he is so worried about my asexuality and Dales asexuality when he puts asexuality in finger quote marks like its a bad thing a not-real thing a thing that's catching a thing that's just to be expected when we are malnourished" (Nylon Bed Socks, Madeline Dyer).

Aspec representation is important because I would put every word of this book on this tumblr post if I could, because there is more in this book that tore me apart and there is more in this book that is still yet to tear me apart.

ALL OF THESE QUOTES WERE TAKEN FROM THE BOOK Being Ace WRITTEN BY MANY AUTHORS AND EDITED BY MADELINE DYER, YOU SHOULD READ IT IT'S A REALLY GOOD BOOK.

ASPEC.

REPRESENTATION.

IS.

IMPORTANT.

Aspec representation is important because kids are still told in health class that everyone feels attraction

Aspec representation is important because somewhere in the world there’s a 12 year old crying because they feel broken

Aspec representation is important because I still get told “that’s not real” when I come out

Aspec representation is important because people still think the A in LGBTQIA+ stands for ally

Aspec representation is important because everyone deserves to see someone like them on screen

Aspec representation is important because people still think that asexual and aromantic are the same thing

Aspec representation is important

[yandere-daydreams]

file #3: the foot fic.

part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.

pairing: yandere!nanami kento x reader (jjk)

length: 2.1k.

warning: non/con, fem!reader, oral sex (f. receiving), foot jobs, unhealthy relationships, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of kidnapping, unbalanced power dynamics, and cannot mention it enough: feet.

You weren’t entirely sure how you’d ended up here.

Which was to say, you weren’t entirely sure how you’d ended up in this position, not this physical location – the small kitchen of Nanami’s up-until-recently neglected apartment, back pressed against the rounded edge of a pristine marble countertop and hands clasped so tightly in front of you that your knuckles were beginning to turn white. That, you could explain in fifteen words or less: Psychotic Ex-Boyfriend Kidnaps Overly Trusting Partner To Roleplay Repressed Domestic Fantasies, with further elaboration possible if you ever got the chance to talk to anyone who wasn’t currently holding you hostage. That, as much as you hated it, was normal. You knew why you were here.

It was much less normal to have Nanami on one knee in front of you, head bowed and one of your feet sitting in the palm of his hand. You hadn’t decided whether it was good abnormal or bad abnormal, yet, but still – not normal.

It must’ve been a rough day. He always looked tired when he got home, but tonight, he seemed exhausted – blond hair in a state of styled disarray, tie gone and shirt already partially unbuttoned, the circles under his eyes just a shade darker than they had been that morning. There was a cut on his cheek, too, and a tear along the wrist of his sleeve. Usually, he would’ve tried to get you to fuss over the damage, to trade privileges like a few minutes of T.V. and the latest news about your friends and family and not being handcuffed to his bed whenever he couldn’t watch you himself for sex and domestic labor and the faux-reciprocation of his obsession, but you hadn’t been able to say anything, let alone do anything before he’d fallen into his current position at your feet, his cheek resting gingerly against the inside of your thigh and his pale face slightly pink. He hadn’t said anything, either. You were starting to think he never would.

Unable to find an explanation written on the back of his head, you turned your attention to yourself. You’d been thinking about what you were going to make for dinner when he got home, because cooking meant he had to trust you with something more dangerous than a plastic spoon and you couldn’t go back to not being able to hold your own toothbrush, even if that meant having to trip over yourself to play housewife with your captor. You were dressed for housework, but that didn’t mean much. Nanami picked out all of your clothes, and he liked you in soft, pastel silk gowns and cutesy, garish vintage dresses. Your current dress was far from overly provocative – the neckline above your collarbones, the skirt falling to your knees. He’d seen you in it before, too, and never had this reaction.

The only new factor was your socks, but that would’ve been ridiculous. It was a new pair – a far cry from the thigh-highs and nylon stockings he usually bought for you. The material was thick and white and cottony, only ankle-high with ribbed hems and a lace trip. He was cupping the arch of your foot, his hand slotted in the tender space between the heel and the upper sole, and the plush fabric rubbed uncomfortably against your skin as he shifted his hold ever so slightly downward. More out of reflex than anything, you jerked back, your toes curling downward as you tried to weakly pull yourself out of his hold, and as if pulled out a trance, Nanami snapped up at you, tired eyes weary and lips slightly parted. Your eyes met his, and for a second, it was all you could do to stay still, to stay quiet, to not yell or scream or thrash until finally, Nanami’s weary expression broke into a slight grin, an airy laugh trickling past his lips as his stare fell back to your foot. “They’re… cute,” he started, slowly, nuzzling his cheek gingerly against your thigh. “I knew they would be, but—” A pause, a kiss to the tender patch just above your knee. “—you always manage to surprise me.”

You managed to smile shakily. “Sorry, Kento, I didn’t mean to distract you. Why don’t you sit somewhere a little more comfortable? I can start on—”

“In a minute.” Another hand was brought up and wrapped around your ankle, just above the lace trim of your sock. His forehead settled against your thigh as he lifted your foot gently and with an almost painful sort of delicacy, pressed the sole of your foot into the bulging tent in his pants that you’d been trying so hard to ignore. You felt his lazy grin press into your skin, and something cracked open in your chest.

This time, you couldn’t stifle your immediate reaction; lurching back, your hands finding the edge of the counter as you tried to pull away from him. It took nothing for him to keep you in place, though, and even worse – the ball of your heel pressed into his shaft as you tried to get away, rolling against his cock with a little too much force and drawing a low grunt from the base of Nanami’s throat. Instantly, you regretted moving at all. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

 “Again.”

You fell silent. His head lulled forward, pressing into your thigh, and somehow, you managed to spit something out. “…I’m sorry, Kento?”

“Again, angel, please,” he muttered, his eyes falling shut. You didn’t move, but he didn’t need you to – his hips jutting forward, grinding stiltedly against the sole of your foot. Any vague illusion of wholesomeness was forgotten entirely as he fell onto his knees, unabashedly rutting against your leg with all the shame and all the pride of a stray animal, desperate for its twisted idea of affection. You made a half-hearted attempt to distract yourself, to focus on the white tiles of his kitchen (not quite dirty, but not as clean as they could be, either – you’d have to do the floors tomorrow), then the far wall (there was a layer of dust along the edge of the light switch fame – you could take care of that later on tonight), but it would’ve been impossible not to think about the wet, hot breath fanning over your thigh, the stiff cock throbbing against your foot. You thought would’ve gotten used to his—uh, his unwanted attention by now, gone numb to the feeling of his mouth on your neck and his fingers on your clit, but this was a type of fresh humiliation you weren’t familiar with, the kind of unthinkable debasement that made your face heat-up and your thought spiral down, down, down. When your paralysis persisted, Nanami grit his teeth, rocked your foot against the length of his cock without ever letting his hips stop moving – like he was trying to fuck a hole through your heel. It was a rough, jagged motion; almost clumsy, despite the fact that you’d never seen him so much as trip. It might’ve left you off-balance, if you hadn’t been holding onto the counter so tightly. You might’ve fallen, if you thought that you would be enough to make him stop.

You shut your eyes, forcing yourself to suck in a shuddering breath, but that was a mistake – showing any kind of weakness was a mistake. You felt one of his groping hands on your upper thigh, then your ass, finally finding the thin, flimsy material of your panties and pulling. There was no elegant way to strip you down, so he didn’t try to be elegant. There was a harsh tearing sound, the feeling of blunt nails scraping against unprotected skin, and then, scraps of ruined material were scattered on the floor at your feet, the skirt of your dress pushed up to your waist as he forced his face between your legs, mouth already open and tongue already lapping over your cunt.

It was a bad position; the distance too far, the angle too sharp, everything about strained and awkward and unnecessary, but Nanami didn’t seem to notice, didn’t seem to care. His tongue ran over the length of your slit before he latched onto your clit and sucked. Instantly, it was too much – a strangled cry tearing past your lips as you buckled into yourself, your knees nearly giving out as another reverberating moan sent pangs of something sharp and electric stabbing into your core. Against your better judgement, your hands shot from the counter to his hair, your fingers soon knotted in a mess of blonde in a futile attempt to pry him away from you. He only melted into your hostile touch, one of his hands remaining on your ankle while the other found your hip, keeping you still and pliable as his attention dipped lower, the flat of his tongue pushing broad patterns into your entrance as the bridge of his nose ground lazily against your clit. “Love you,” he mumbled, his voice little more than a throaty, ragged murmur – almost too deep to be audible and constantly interrupted by the sound of your slick on his lips, on his tongue. You wished he wouldn’t talk. You wished he wouldn’t pretend to love you. You wished he wouldn’t force you to do the same. “You’re so—so pretty, and so perfect, and—”

A guttural moan cut him off, and his attention shifted, his head lulling back just far enough to stare up at you with eyes so soft and so tender, you could almost forget he was humping your leg like a bitch in heat. You were suddenly aware of your own distraught expression – all grit teeth and misty eyes, misery and pleasure flooding through your veins in tandem. You wanted to ask him not to look at you. You needed to ask him to stop, but—

You felt a frigid ache in your left wrist – the wrist he’d kept shackled to the bedpost for the first three weeks of your kidnapping. You tried to open your mouth, but your tongue was deathly dry, your throat stuffed with cotton, the feeling not entirely unsimilar to the residue left behind by the velvet gags he used to shove in your mouth when you didn’t want to lay there and let him break you. You couldn’t say anything, couldn’t do anything as he let out a final, primal groan – as you felt something thick and hot soak through the fabric of his dress pants and into your ridiculous, childish socks. He whined into your cunt, fingers burrowing into your waist as he dragged you that much closer to his mouth. His tongue fucked shallowly into your cunt, and a whine caught in your throat as your vision burnt white, as you came unwillingly on his tongue.

You couldn’t do it, anymore. With his hand still on your hip, his cum still searing into the sole of your foot, you collapsed. Nanami caught you before you hit the ground, and you hated him for it. You wished he’d let you crumble to the tile floor, wished he’d just watch and laugh as you curled into a ball and stayed there for the rest of the night, the rest of the week. You wished he’d—

Oh, god, you’d made yourself cry. Nanami let out a breathy chuckle as you sniffled and tried not to wail, kissing your tear-stained cheeks with a gentleness you couldn’t seem to link to the man who’d just cum to a pair of socks. “It’s alright, angel. You can let it out.” Another kiss, this one to your forehead. “Too much?”

You nodded, burying your face in his shoulder. You felt his arms wrap around you, keeping your body pressed into his chest as he pushed himself to his feet. There were a few seconds of quiet, unthinking solace before he lowered you onto your shared bed – a pair of shackles still hanging, unlocked and waiting, from the headboard. Immediately, you scrambled for the nearest pillow, burying your face in the plush material and sobbing openly. Nanami’s comfort came in the form of a wry grin, a pair of hands on your hips, turning you onto your stomach and starting on the buttons of your dress.

As he settled between your legs, his calloused fingertips skirting over your bare skin, you couldn’t help but wonder if the shackles had really been so bad.

[novacqnes]

✩ nights like this // sevika

⋆ summary: no coherent thoughts…just stressed councilmember!sevika coming home to you after a rough day.

⋆ warnings: a shit ton of sappiness & fluff, reader loving on sevika

⋆ pairing: sevika x fem reader

⋆ word count: 1.3k

embers of scarlet and coral smacked against the screen of the fireplace, silently stirring sevika from a trance. her head pounded against her skull, locking the rest of her body into place. now this sofa, cheaply made of leather and nylon, was her only comfort. fragments of light reflected off the glass windows, briefly illuminating the door right across from her. in its midst she could single out a you-shaped figure leaning against the doorway. small crescents adorned your eyes as you rubbed away the fatigue in them.

“come to bed,” you whispered, trudging towards her. you hit the sofa with a soft thud, pressing a light kiss to sevika’s soft lips.

she let out a low groan, snaking an arm around your waist, “not yet, go on without me.”

you nibbled on your lower lip, tilting your head to the side as you inspected sevika’s face. her features were tense, eyebrows drawn together with sharp, pensive lines decorating the space between them. her legs were fixed into the ground, boots still on, which was completely uncharacteristic of sevika. for a brief moment, her hazy grey eyes struck yours, they were gentle and radiant. it always amazed you just how hypnotic they could be. they revealed everything about this woman, but this time they weren’t brimming with intense sexual desire but a fervent need for comfort. 

“that bad?”

she shrugged, “something like that.” you waited for her to say more, but nothing else came. rather, you were greeted by an uncomfortable silence and the impossible task of trying to read her mind. her eyes flickered between the fire and your eyes, calling, screaming, pleading out to you so that there was no need for words. sevika’s body was rigid against yours; she looked as if she’d crawl from her own skin and right into the sofa. she detested this feeling. you couldn’t know. you couldn’t see. she needed to protect you. that’s what she told herself as images of the council and their disapproving glares riddled her mind. deeper and deeper, she became trapped within her own mind, leaving you with no option but to intervene. 

she felt your hands on her thighs first, slowly traveling down to her calves before reaching her boots. 

“let’s take these off,” you cooed. 

you started at the dark laces, pulling each one through the silver loops that decorated the sides. once this was done, you tugged them off sevika’s legs, exposing her fluffy rainbow socks. your lips perked up into a smile as your girlfriend quickly looked away, fighting to keep a straight face. it was progress, although you could see that she wasn’t fully comfortable, so you kept at it moving behind her.

you reached for her cloak, peering down at her for approval. “this okay?”

“mhmm….” sevika nodded, sinking further into the couch. she closed her eyes, humming lowly as the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly began to rise. sevika’s skin burned with each slight touch of your hands against her body. warm and hot with determination, you ran them across her smooth skin, moving to undress her in one quick beat. with the cloak tossed to the side, you peeled off her vest, shirt, and bra, leaving her exposed before you. you ran your palms over her sculpted chest, feeling the muscles tense underneath you.

“you’re with me, relax baby.”

she sighed, “i’m trying….i just hate bringing this shit home to you.”

you brought your hands to her face, rubbing your thumb along the scarred skin of her cheek. her eyes were reluctant at first, but you continued with a soft tone emanating from your voice, “look at me sevika, i’m okay. just let me take care of you.”

you moved the dark strands of hair from her face, eager to meet her eye. they were gorgeous. half-lidded and heavy, they were trained on your face, unwavering in spite of the fatigue that pulled on them. it was like a silent battle, a fight that you only saw slight glimpses of before, but sevika’s mask was cracking. in piltover she was utterly alone, and the mere thought of her shouldering that burden chewed at your soul. thus you moved your hands to sevika’s shoulders, desperate to be the support that she needed. once more you looked at her face for a response. silently she nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your jaw before leaning back. 

time slipped by as you undressed her, softly massaging her skin, freeing her from the strain that tore through her body. slowly her features grew more relaxed, shooting you small grins every once in a while as you worked. from the corner of your eyes, a bright halo and its golden rays peeked into your home through the window. half of the living room was illuminated with a faint yellow glow, making visible the antique table in the center of the room and the rest of sevika’s body.

“how’s this?” you hummed, massaging out the kinks in her neck.

she slurred, “perfect…i swear if i have to hear the word contingency agai—“ 

“you’re doing the best you can.”

sevika shook her head as you removed your hands from her shoulders. “it’s not enough. y/n you should see the look on some of their faces; it’s like they don’t even see me.” hurt, frustration, and anger, it spilled from her in one stifled breath. you moved swiftly to her side, cupping her hand in yours. the two of you sat in silence, caught in the sun’s warmth. 

“sev,” you began, “you’re one person, you can’t put that on yourself.”

“i have too,” she whispered, her voice small. sevika’s eyes stung, they begged her to close them and stumble into your bed, but her mind argued the opposite. doubt crept to the forefront of her brain, pervading her perceptions of herself. was she strong enough to do this? could she be enough for you? in the midst of the murky clouds there was no definite answer, and that tormented sevika beyond belief. she’d stayed up for hours, the allure of sleep looming over her as she clawed for an answer, desperately seeking it in the form of solitude.

“i’ll go with you to piltover.” 

her eyes widened, a sheepish grin taking hold of her face as sevika brought a hand to her mouth, “oh, you wouldn’t last a second.”

“what?” you sputtered, playfully smacking her hand away. “i’ll go everyday if i have too…i hate sleeping by myself.” 

she let out a low chuckle, snapping her neck towards the sunrise, taking in the bright, soft pink and yellow hues that fully lit up the room. sevika looked back towards you, her heart beaming with an intense longing and love for the person before her. she adored the way the colors merged with your skin, basking you in a warm glow of sunlight. it captured your beauty like no other, making your girlfriend fall even deeper for you. bare and exhausted, sevika yearned to pull you close. she wanted to feel your skin hot against hers as you floated into a deep slumber, fleeing the world and its worries for just a moment. this was her answer. 

“i love you so fucking much.”

“do you?” you teased, leaning in to place delicate kisses to the underside of her chin.

she nodded, “yeah baby, i do.”

you moved to her ear, allowing your breath to lightly tickle the sensitive skin, “then you know that you don’t owe anyone anything. not those council members. not even us zaunites. you can walk away, and i will love you all the same. i just want you happy.”

“this makes me happy,” sevika smiled, rising from the couch before quickly scooping you up in her arms. 

“good, let’s go to bed.”

[st7rnioioss]

• . ⋮ SKATER!CHRIS x GIRLY!READER introduction .ᐟ ֹ ₊

— a skater!chris x girly!reader moodboard

skater!chris: he’s in a band, messy and tousled hair, skating late at night, green day and nirvana, impressive cd collection, multiple stickers on his skateboard, converse preferably in black, grunge and alternative rock, huge selection of hoodies that all smell a little like weed, baggy jeans, stud earrings, he has nirvana's “in utero” angel tattooed on his back, wired earphones, really funny even though he doesn’t attempt to be.

girly!reader: she’s in the schools book club, mary jane platforms, shy but opens up when you get to know her, neat notes, clairo, her hair is always maintained, beauty and brains, baby pink, plaid skirts, she always smells heavenly, ultraviolence by lana del rey, hair clips, pearl or small hoop earrings, muji stationery, knee socks and lace/nylon tights, the sweetest, always has a little diy craft going on whether its crocheting or painting.

MASTERLIST

۶ৎ skater!chris introduction

۶ৎ girly!reader showing skater!chris how to scrapbook

۶ৎ girly!reader getting touchy with skater!chris since shes drunk

۶ৎ skater!chris giving girly!reader head!!

۶ৎ skater!chris carrying girly!reader to bed after she fell asleep admiring his tattoo

© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Prewar!Cooper Howard has a little kink that he's embarrassed to discuss...

He's taken you to your first fancy Hollywood shindig, a cocktail party at some important producer or something's palatial home. It's the first time you two have gone out in public together as a couple, and Cooper had initially been nervous, both about the way people would talk and who would hear that talk, but things had been fun and relaxing all evening, leaving you celebratory and clinging to one another affectionately on the cab ride back home.

You peel off your heels and drop them by the door, missing the way he eyes you as you do. The ache in your arches is distracting at this point, and you crack a joke about the things being torture devices as you shuck them. They're your favorite shoes for nice occasions, earning you plenty of compliments as well as lots of praise from Coop, but they're a pain.

Both of you settle on the couch, your head resting on the arm as you recline, your feet in his lap. He's turned on the radio and is humming along with some slow tune. The liquor had been flowing heavy at the party, and you're both a little toasty as you joke and recount the night's events.

Offhandedly, you mention again that your feet are absolutely killing you from standing in your stilettos all night. Your thoughtful boyfriend quickly offers to rub them for you, and you happily allow him to grab the first stocking-clad appendage, settling in on your back as he begins to rub away.

You can't help but notice, though, that there's a growing tent in his pants as he digs his thumbs into the soft fabric of your stockings, as you hum and sigh approvingly at the way he rubs away the throbbing.

At first, it brings a little grin to your lips, stealing a glance at him, seeing the heavy blush creeping up his neck. Naturally, you assume he's reacting to the sounds you're making, and you begin to tease him with the only appendage you have within reach: your sole.

To say that he enjoys you rubbing your nylon-wrapped foot against his erection is a major understatement. It's clear he's embarrassed, avoiding your eyes as they search for his, but it's also clear that this is driving him wild, his hips involuntarily grinding against your heel as he continues on with the "massage", which is rapidly devolving into him simply pressing your foot down into his lap.

It goes from amusing to arousing quickly, and before you know it, you've splayed your other foot against the floor so that he can watch as you slide your hand into your panties, rubbing feverish little circles around your clit as you watch him hump against your socked foot.

Things rapidly reach a fever pitch, and soon, you're yanked completely into his lap, aggressively riding your way through some very risky unprotected sex. Normally, you're both much more careful than this, but something about what you've just gotten up to has you both so hot and bothered that you can't even make it upstairs to where you keep the condoms. He doesn't even attempt to pull out, only pins you on your back in the soft cushions as he spills inside you.

Neither of you brings it up again for a few days, and you come to assume it was just a silly little experiment inspired by the alcohol. One of your favorite things about being with Cooper is how the older man teaches you things, allows you to experiment in a way that makes you feel safe, so him wanting to try something a bit weird once is unsurprising to you.

However, a few days later, he surprises you with a spa day, pays for you to be pampered while he spends the day on set. One of the services included is a pedicure, but you think nothing of it between the facial and the seaweed wrap. Naturally, when you're home again that evening, you're incredibly relaxed and Coop is more than happy to take advantage of that, spreading your stress free body across the bed and worshiping every inch.

It's when he's on top of you and easing his way inside that it becomes apparent that he may have ulterior motives. He admires the softness of your skin after all the spoiling, running his hands along the velvety expanse of your thigh, tracing up to grope at your calf as he pumps between your legs. They're hooked over his shoulders, and he slowly bends one to trail kisses, up and up, from your kneecap to your ankle, his mischievous gaze burning into you as the kisses continue onto the arch of your foot, bent in for proper access. This tickles, but in a way that tingles up your spine. You're already very close to cumming.

But then he opens his mouth and sort of half-guides your toes to his lips, sucking them gently into his mouth, and the shock and sensation flying down your spine is enough to violently shove you over the edge, spasms rocking your whole body as he strums the sensitive spot between your first two toes with the tip of his tongue. This is more than enough to force you to cum and to force you to accept that fancy movie star Cooper Howard may actually have a bit of a foot fetish.

This is certainly not a kink of his that he would've freely discussed before, between the social stigma of being one of "those guys" and the fact that he's never really had a partner who was too keen on exploring in bed. The thoughts had been there in the past, but were easily brushed off with just a little self-consciousness. With you, though, he feels the sort of connection that allows him to know you'd never judge him.

There's a lot of experimenting in your future.

[after-witch]

Indulgence [Yandere Feitan x Reader]

Title: Indulgence [Yandere Feitan x Reader]

Synopsis: Just Feitan wanting to touch your nyloned feet.

Word count: 774

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, forced footplay, brief tickling

Feitan's grip on your nylon-clad ankle is not especially tight. His fingers do not press into your flesh, ensuring small printed bruises that will last for days.

Instead, he holds your ankle like it’s something precious and sentimental. Like you held your grandmother’s porcelain figurines when you were little, and she’d told you again and again that she loved those figurines so much that if you were to crack a single one, it would break her heart.

But, taking in the look in his eyes, perhaps sentimental is the wrong word. He looks more fascinated than anything else.

“Feitan?” You ask, shifting yourself on the worn cushions of the sofa. You don’t dare pull your foot away--he’d stop you, if you were stupid enough to try.You’re not that stupid anymore.

He doesn’t acknowledge you at first.

You curl your toes, unused to the stretch of the thin nylon material over them--and his eyebrows actually lift up. Seeing any expression on him that wasn’t irritation or disgusted glee while he tortured people was almost astonishing enough to make your own eyebrows raise.

“What are you doing?” he asks, voice low, almost husky.

It’s the question you wanted to ask him.

“Nothing,” you say. Right? You’re just sitting here. He’s the one acting odd.

“You curled your toes.” His answer is short. Factual.

Because well, you did curl your toes. But… you didn’t mean anything by it. They were stiff, you’ve been sitting here so awfully long, and Feitan hasn’t explained a thing.

He didn’t respond this morning when you asked why there were nylons on the bed with the outfit he’d picked out--a short white nightgown that you’ve had for ages, worn in the armpits, with a lace trim that needed a good bleaching--or where your socks had gone.

He didn’t give you a reason when you told you to sit on the sofa, or when he grabbed your legs and yanked them up, forcing you to pivot around to avoid an uncomfortable twist in your hips.

Nor did he offer up any explanation when he’d taken your ankle in his hands and placed your foot on his thigh and simply… held it there--is still holding it there.

“I… I didn’t mean to?” You lick dry lips. “I mean, I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just going to ask you why you’re…” You trail off as his eyebrows go from high to furrowed. 

Slowly, his other hand moves from its spot on his thigh and hovers above your foot. Your heart begins to beat faster--you weren’t disobedient lately, or at least he hadn’t said so.

He wouldn’t break your foot without telling you the reason, surely. The lecture he’d given after he broke a few of your fingers the first (and last) time you’d ever slapped him was a testament to that.

His fingers descend--one, two, three, four, five--but he doesn’t break your foot. Instead he begins to massage it.

That should make your heart slow down, but instead it only speeds up, even as his fingers begin to press down harder, a firm pressure down the length of your arch, then up your sole, ending just underneath your toes.

The nylon material shifts under his fingers. It feels strange, like some kind of thin second skin that heightens the sensation of being touched. It feels warm from the rubbing, despite the vague undercurrent of ticklishness that makes you want to yank your ankle away.

His fingers begin to lightly massage your toes, which stretch and curl instinctively. It’s too light, too ticklish.

Your breath hitches.

So does his.

“Ticklish?” He asks.

You nod. Lying had been trained out of you long before this.

He hums. There’s a pit in your stomach that begins to eat itself as you watch emotions play out on his face. It’s harder with the cowl up, but his eyes can give enough away, if you know how to look. You’ve had lots of practice.

He’s delighted by something.

Which is rarely a good sign.

Still, you know better than to try to yank your foot away, even as his fingers return to your toes, pressing down harder. It still tickles, but there’s more to it, now. The warmth is back, an unexpected, unwanted pleasurable feeling.

He stares at you the whole time, gauging your reaction.

Your fingernails dig into the sofa, digging into the already frayed threads. You bite your lip. You don’t want to give him anything. But he’ll just take it anyway, won’t he?

It’s going to be a long evening, you think. And judging by the expression on Feitan’s face--he thinks so, too.

[columboscreens]

columbo is so gender to me but i dont think i could ever look like him</3

i think it's totally possible for anyone to embody his essence. you can even manage to rock something directly inspired by columbo without looking like you're cosplaying.

hair

if you have columbo's hair type, it's actually pretty easy to emulate his styles. i even know people who show pictures of columbo to hair stylists to get his look. my partner's hair in its natural state is very similar to columbo's--dark, wavy, tending to grow in spite of gravity rather than with it. whenever he gets his hair cut, he shows the stylist photos of late 60s/pilot episode peter falk, whose look is actually pretty on-trend for the current era. it works out pretty well.

your swag may have aged well pilot columbo but you can't beat floof

failing that, getting any haircut that is natural, low-maintenance, and not too attention-grabbing captures the visual language all the same. for reference, natasha lyonne in poker face has her hair in natural-looking, messy waves that to me just exude columbo.

clothing

how you present yourself to the world is up to you, but if you want to invoke columbo, there's a lot more you can do than buy a tan raincoat.

in an era of sharply-cut, wide-lapelled constructions, fat tie tuesdays, and gucci loafers, columbo stands out as classic comfort personified.

his collar, tie, and lapels are slim, proportional, and unassuming; they'd look good in almost any era. his pants fit closely to his leg but not too wide or slim, and sit at or near the natural waist. though his suits, shirts, ties, shoes, socks, and even coats rotate, there is a consistent color palette keeping him "on model". he embraces earth tones: creams, forest greens, light browns, dark browns, stony grays, rusts, and roses. his clothing seems like an afterthought, but it's an extension of his personality--rumpled and unassuming at first, yet sharp and deliberate upon further inspection.

amid the 1970s explosion of synthetic popularity, it says something that every stitch of textile on columbo's person is natural (aside from the raincoat, which is probably nylon or poly--he wears it without a lining and uses it as essentially an oversized windbreaker). his boots are leather with crepe latex soles; his tie is silk. his shirt is cotton, a bit boxy but comfortable and properly fitted. because the construction of his suits is roomy and unstructured, and because they're made of linen, they wrinkle easily.

this is easily confused for appearing slovenly. actually, all things considered, his clothes fit him pretty damn well, it's just hard to avoid wrinkling natural fibers like linen and cotton, especially in hot weather. he's running around los angeles sweating up a storm, the man needs loose, breathable fabric.

point is, columbo dresses very thoughtfully. since these clothes are workwear for him and he works a hell of a lot, it's imperative that he factors in the weather, his comfort, and proper fit when picking clothes. he wants to like and be comfortable in them while looking unassuming. so even though he sometimes ends up looking like an unmade bed, his choices are deliberate.

you could invoke these principles in your own appearance by picking earthy colors/jewel tones and comfortable, natural fabrics that you enjoy wearing, which has the added benefit of being better for you and the environment. consider also taking a few garments in to be altered. it's usually not that expensive, supports your local needlefolk, and makes even cheap clothes fit great.

as a last little aside, i think having a "signature" clothing item akin to columbo's raincoat would be a nice touch. a jacket, a pair of shoes, even a watch or necklace. something you always wear. if you really do want a raincoat like his, just make sure you're not buying a trench coat, because, repeat after me: columbo does not wear a trench coat.

[ticklygiggles]

Dangerously Close At Night | Rafayel x Reader [N$FW]

Collab with @lovelynim

A/N: Happy Valentine's day! Precious Fabi and I worked together to write this little n$fw piece with our favorite babygirl from Love and Deepspace! Thank you for writing this with me, Fabi! ❤️ I hope you all enjoy it! (Also, big thanks to this anon for inspiring us)

Warnings: this fic is very feet centered, so read at your own risk

Summary: Rafayel dared to forget to buy you something for you on Valentine's Day. Of course he'll get a well deserved punishment, but why is he enjoying it so much?

Words: 2,811

A pretty, large, red ribbon, made out of the finest silk in the market. Delicate, but with strings firm enough to keep things in place. There couldn’t be a better choice to restrain him.

“So, is this your great idea for a Valentine’s gift?” Rafayel said, his voice full of snark and pride. You smirked, telling yourself inside your head that he wouldn’t keep those for long - not tonight.

After sitting on the edge of the bed, you start to slowly work on the buttons of your own shirt, revealing some extra bits of skin in an attempt to earn his attention and, above that, set the mood. You could tell that he was hiding his nervousness just by how tense his shoulders were, by the way his restrained hands fiddled behind his back. 

“This is just the setting. Why the rush? It’s your fault for not buying me anything anyway,” you said, kicking off your high heels before crawling a little closer to him. “You said to yourself that I could get anything I wanted…”

Rafayel chuckled, resting his head back in the pillows and letting out a nervous sigh. You could tell he was still trying to figure out your plans, but couldn’t come up with anything. “So, miss bodyguard… is this what you wanted?”

You rolled your eyes, admiring his helpless state for a few more seconds. You slowly reached to his leg, feeling the fancy fabric that his pants were made of and tracing a short path from the top of his thigh down to his knee. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle when Rafayel nearly jumped off the bed from just that touch. “Are you nervous? Scared that I’m going to do something bad to you?”

“W-well, you are looking at me like a shark would look at a wounded fish,” he averted his gaze, trying to force his way out of his binding one more time before sighing in defeat.

You shook your head, amused by his answer, and continued to move your hand down his leg, stopping as soon as you reached his ankle. “What kind of person do you think I am, Rafayel? I thought that, by now, you’d have a better picture of me,” you muttered softly, moving your hand around and tugging at the back of his shoe. 

“Or is this the better picture you have of me?” You asked, looking at his face with the corner of your eyes while letting his shoe drop to the ground. “Comfortable?” You smiled.

“Barely,” he snarked and your smile only widened as you pulled his other shoe off as well. “Hey. Do you have any idea how expensive they are? Could you be more careful?” 

“I can't,” you said just as your eyes caught sight of his feet. Rafayel was an elegant man. Very stylish and very careful with his appearance. Perfect hair, perfect face, impeccable clothes and shiny shoes. From head to toe, Rafayel was a handsome man, flashy and attractive.

For this reason, you were not surprised to find that his feet were wearing neat black nylon socks. His feet looked… pretty. You felt your cheeks heating up a little- this was the first time you felt so fixed in this part of another person's body. Rafayel certainly was too attractive. You swallowed thick. 

“W-What are you looking at?” 

You chuckled, lightly running your fingers up one of his soles. “Your feet, why?” 

Rafayel jumped at your touch and gasped sharply. His foot jerked away, but you caught his ankle, pulling it back so your fingernails scribbled lightly against his sole. Under his toes, swirling against his arch. Rafayel giggled, pulling at his foot and trying to kick you with the other as he squirmed like a lovely fish out of water. 

“Puh-lease! It tihihickles!” 

“Well,” you giggled, “that could be because I am tickling you, silly.” You grinned, looking at his bright smile and rosy cheeks. “I always forget how ticklish you are, Rafayel,” you teased, suddenly stopping. 

Rafayel went limp against the bed, giggling and chuckling. “If you're going to be so mean, you better- what are you doing now?”

Grinning at him, you kneeled in front of his feet. Rafayel's eyes were wide, pupils trembling as you pulled his silky socks off. His toes scrunched and fanned out, wiggling as if he was trying to get rid of the tingly sensation from earlier. You smiled, taking one of his feet between your hands. Rafayel tensed, but before he could pull it away, you gave it a firm squeeze and started rubbing your thumbs against the sole. Rafayel gasped, but a low groan escaped him as you massaged his foot; your thumbs kneading the muscles by the sides, knuckles rubbing against any knot at his arch and the ball of his foot. 

“Aw, look at you…” You cooed, dragging your thumb from the top of his heel to just below his toes while pressing it against the soft skin. “Enjoying yourself?” Your words made his cheeks go even redder than before, that bright shade of red spread up to the tip of his ear.

Just as he was about to answer, you pressed down a little harder and forced a sweet (but embarrassing) sound out of his lips, making his breath go uneven. “W-what, agh… what are you uhuhup to? Is this y-your plan?” Rafayel panted, trying to still sound confident and charming, his usual act, but you could read right through him. 

His arms trembled, desperately trying to break free from the ribbon keeping them together, as you continued to experiment different methods and switch between different kinds of touches, keeping Rafayel at the edge, unaware of what to expect from you. “What’s so funny, Rafayel? You’re smiling so much tonight. Still feeling ticklish?”

“Y-you- hmph…” He sighed, turning his face away and arching his back a little, almost as if to get more comfortable inside his bonds. “Y-you keep tihihickling me. How c-can I feel ahanything else?” Rafayel retorted, clasping his knees together and letting out another heavy, long sigh.

You couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t trying to pull his feet away from you anymore and was, instead, trying to fight something else other than your touch… the sensations that came from it, maybe? He gasped, giggled and chuckled with every stroke and pressure to his foot; his toes fanning out when you tickled his sole, as if asking for more. 

Feeling the heat from your cheeks spreading to your ears, you gulped. Something in your head clicking. This was… an interesting discovery. 

“Your feet certainly are sensitive, right Rafayel?” 

“W-What?”

You nodded with a grin, your nails gently scraping at the soft skin under his toes – the sound that came out from his lips barely surprised you, but still, it made you tremble inside. His feet really were sensitive, perhaps because they were new to him. 

“I mean, I can tell how much you’re enjoying this just by looking at you,” you grinned, holding his foot down with one hand and using your thumb to gently push his toes back, stretching out the sensitive skin. Your other hand soon joined, tracing lines up and down with the tip of your nails, being extra careful - and sadistically slow - while doing it.

“A-agh, nohoho!” Rafayel gasped, laughing a bit too much for how little effort you were putting into playing with his sole. “Yohou are juhuhust mehehessing w-with me!!” He whined, arching his back in a renewed fit of giggles, his foot twitching inside your grip as if he was trying to move it away from you - but you could easily tell that he wasn’t.

His skin felt good to the touch: soft, warm and adorably delicate. You felt like you could end up hurting his feet if you used just a tad more of strength. “And how else am I supposed to get you looking like this if not messing with you?”

You couldn’t tell what kind of noise came out of Rafayel’s lips when you teased him, but you definitely needed to hear it again. His cheeks were burning in a bright shade of pink that stretched out to the tip of his ears, creating a mesmerizing contrast with the dark hues of his disheveled hair. On top of all that, Rafayel had the most handsome smile you ever saw on his face - carefree, vulnerable and a little shy.

You knew this was driving Rafayel crazy, but so were you. You were flushed, feeling butterflies in your tummy and your chest and the tingling sensation between your legs only grew the more you gave attention to Rafayel. He was excited, turned on. Looking up, you could see the bulge in Rafayel's pants and your mouth watered. Was he being more sensitive than usual? Or were you being too good at riling him up? 

He gasped heavily, “wait, what are you- ngh!” A pretty moan escaped his lips when you suddenly pressed a wet kiss against the arch of his foot, followed by another and one more. “H-Hey, where are you k-kissing, ah!” He moaned your name as you started to swirl your tongue against the ball of his foot.

Your fingers lightly tickled his arch and his heel. Your other hand climbed up his leg under his pants, pressing against his skin firmly like a massage; you didn't reach all the way up to where you wanted to touch, but he gasped and jumped when you gave his inner thigh a squeeze. Rafayel closed his legs, as if trying to hide how aroused he felt. With his other foot, he gently pushed your shoulder, but there was barely any strength on his touch. 

“Aaah, pl-please,” he begged, arching his back when your tongue found its way between his toes. Your teeth scraped at them carefully and your tongue fluttered under them making him whine and let out choked chuckles. “T-this ihihis too m-much!” 

No, it wasn’t, you thought, unable to snap back at his pleas as your lips were busy doing something else. Despite Rafayel’s effort to hide it, the tent on his pants became more and more evident, his hardened cock throbbing with each lick, each stroke and each tickle. 

“Ngh!!- N-not there, ahh,” Rafayel cried, gritting his teeth and tensing his back when you pressed your tongue under his toes. You also couldn’t help but notice his hips slightly thrusting upwards, as if his dick was desperate to be freed and worshiped like that as well - a sight that made you smile against his skin.

It was no mistake to say that you were breaking him apart. The more you worked on his soles, the more aroused and desperate Rafayel seemed to be. His cool and charming persona was torn apart and all that was left was a man aching, craving for more.

You kissed his toes, gently nibbled at the side of his foot and dragged your tongue over his arches, over and over and over. Rafayel’s reactions didn’t seem to ever let you up, always rewarding your moves with delicious, intoxicating sounds that only made you want to keep going on and on. 

His plain white shirt was starting to look a little translucid after sweat began to stick to the cloth; his eyes sparkled as the dim light of the room reflected on the tears clinging onto his lashes and rolling down his cheeks; and a little wet spot began to take shape on top of the tent in his pants - that definitely was going to leave a stain, you thought.

You moved your head back slightly, grinning and licking your lips in a teasing manner as you exchanged looks with him. “I’d feel bad if I didn’t know how much you like this,” you mused, using your nails to tickle the saliva-covered skin of his foot to not let him rest. 

“Hnng- nohOHoho!! Ehehe, I cahAHAHan’t!”

“You look overwhelmed, Rafayel. Do you want me to stop? To let you go?” You tilted your head, admiring the way he thrashed his head left and right while laughing like a maddened man. “Come on, it’s a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question. I’m not even going that hard on you, I’m sure you can still talk, right?”

An annoyed groan escaped his lips amidst the laughter - it was still Rafayel. You knew how much it would hurt his stupid pride to beg you, how upsetting this kind of thing was to him. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder: was his annoyance as big as his arousal right now?

“Agh- n-no! Ahah, dohohon’t- ahh! D-don’t stohohop it”

You smirked at his words. “Don't stop it? Maybe if you beg like a good boy, I won't stop,” You tried your luck while your nails ran over the soles of Rafayel's feet with light but quick touches. “That's something easy to do, right Rafayel? After all, you want it so badly, don't you?” 

He let out a low, annoyed growl as he giggled and circled his hips. “Pl-Plehehease– please d-dohon’t stohohop.”

“That's a good boy,” you mumbled before latching your mouth back to Rafayel's unattended toes on his other foot. He moaned carelessly, toes fanning inside the warmth of your mouth as you licked, bit and kissed them carefully. His other foot, moisturized by your saliva, was still under a tickly attack that kept him giggling and laughing and whining, but he kept both his feet still for you to play with them. 

The sounds he made took their toll on you. You were leaking, tingling and clenching. If you had known that this would be his reaction to having his beautiful feet under your attention, you would have done it a long time ago. Who would have thought that a few tickles and a few kisses here and there would be enough to silence this dramatic boy?

“I… lohohove ihihit,” he suddenly said and you hummed against the ball of his foot. “I l-lohoHOve it whehen you t-tihickle my tohohoes!” 

That surprised you. He was not one to easily admit he liked something, especially when it was making him go crazy like that. You closed your legs, your hips thrusting slightly as you suck on the soft skin under his toes. Rafayel groaned deliciously. 

“F-Fuhuck… I th-thihink I'm g-gohonna–” 

“Oh? Really?” You arched an eyebrow, your eyes filled with lust. “Go ahead. Cum for me, little sea star.” 

Your fingernails tickled in between his toes on one foot as your teeth scraped at that delicate skin under the digits of his other foot. Rafayel cried out a broken moan, his arms twisting, trying to break himself free, but he didn't need that because he did cum only after a couple of seconds. 

“Aaaagh, fuck!” His body trembled as Rafayel moaned your name out loud, thrusting his hips upwards. You could only catch a few glimpses of his face, but it wasn’t to notice how stunned Rafayel looked at that moment. “E-enough..!” Rafayel pleaded, his voice hoarse, barely able to make it out of his throat.

Taken a bit off guard, you shook your head as you chuckled. Complying to his request, you let Rafayel move his feet away and rest them on the mattress - just to make sure they were out of your reach.

“My, I was just playing around… and you are already like this?” You teased, crawling on top of him and gently reaching out for his face with your hand. You gently brushed your thumb over his eyelids, wiping out the tears that were still clinging into his lashes.

“Y-you were being really mean, that’s what you did,” Rafayel whined through a heavy sigh, his body looking like it was going to melt on top of the mattress at any given moment.

“So you didn’t like it?”

“...I’m not saying that,” he pouted, lazily tilting his head to look at you and let you have a better look at him. You smiled softly, pushing his bangs away from his forehead.

“Got it… still,” before Rafayel could react, you placed your hands on his shoulders and pinned him against the bed once again, “don’t you think it’s a bit unfair if only one of us gets to cum?”

“W-what? That d-doesn’t count! There wasn’t even c-”

“But you did have an orgasm, Rafayel. I saw it myself,” you smirked, sitting on his stomach and starting to unbutton your own shirt - this time, all the way down. As you threw your shirt off the bed, you couldn’t tell if Rafayel was scared, excited, flustered or all of them at once. “It’s my turn to feel good now.”

After swallowing heavily, Rafayel seemed to gather the courage to look up to you again. “F-fine, go ahead…”

“Good boy,” you grinned. This was just the beginning of a really, really long night.

[beautifulblooms]

A Lord Brought to His Knees - Karl Heisenberg x Male Reader SMUT

So I may have more things to pull out of my hell that is google drive, anyways, enjoy this shit show, not actually proofread btw, this hasn’t been touched in at least a good couple years, so once again first person pov might be shitty.

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!

Let’s just start off with how Karl ended up in this situation, he decided to be a bitch for much longer than he should’ve been. You were both called to a meeting held by Mother Miranda and of course, Karl wanted to try and tease you. Wrong day, wrong time, things were already going haywire because of some mishaps in the factory that day. One of the dead bodies that had been experimented on got out of its little holding area and started causing havoc. This led to a very upset you, a few broken tables and doors, and one very dead experiment. So when Karl decided to tease you at the meeting by brushing up against your crotch several times, even palming you through your pants once or twice, you knew that tonight he would get his punishment. And that he wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow. Exiting the chapel you grabbed Karl’s wrist and began pulling him to your shared sector of the Romanian countryside you lived in.

“Woah, what's with the rush doll? We’ve got plenty of time to get back to the factory before dark, besides none of the lycans would dare touch either of us.” Karl said trying to A. figure out what pissed you off and B. calm you down a bit.

“Oh trust me, I’m well aware of that, but you on the other hand should be worrying about what’s going to happen as soon as we make it back to that factory. Now walk faster.” There was nothing but anger and bitterness dripping from your words as the walking pace you set became faster. Karl realized he might’ve pushed you too far and now he would have to deal with the outcome, he could handle it, right? Spoiler alert, no he couldn’t. Upon reaching the factory and opening the main doors, you dragged Karl inside and slammed the door shut. “You have exactly five minutes to get your ass up to our room, strip naked, and lay yourself out on that bed before I come up there and give you what you deserve.”

There was nothing but anger and lust in your voice as you gave him very clear instructions about what you expected of him. Karl soon hightailed it up the stairs, taking off his hat, coat, and glasses on the way up. Opening the door to your shared room he began stripping the rest of his clothes, his boots and socks followed by his belt and necklace. Quickly pulling off his shirt and pants along with his underwear he jumped onto the bed, laying himself out like you instructed. You, on the other hand, took your sweet time to get the ropes you had been saving, nylon ropes so they wouldn’t hurt his wrists and ankles too badly and walked up to the bedroom where a naked Karl awaited you.

Walking through the still-open door you looked to the right to see Karl on the bed, sprawled out with a hard-on. A smirk came over your lips, happy he so easily followed directions given how bratty he was earlier. Placing the ropes on the bedside, you began to strip yourself, slowly of course to tease Karl. Once you were down to nothing but your boxers you grabbed the first bundle of the nylon rope, unraveling it to tie up his ankles.

“You my dear have been very obnoxious today, and because of that,” you tied his left ankle to the bedpost, “you will be at my will for the next several hours.” Finishing off his right ankle you moved back to the nightstand to grab the next bundle before repeating a similar process with his wrists at the top of the bed.

“C’mon I didn’t tease you that much I mean it didn’t even look like ya got hard from it.” Karl’s words were shaky, trying to reason with a very angry and horny you was not going well for him, nor would it go well over the rest of the evening.

“I don’t want to hear it, you pushed it too far on a really shitty day and now, here’s the consequences.” A twisted smile replaced your previous expression, finally getting to remind Karl that when he teases there are in fact things you can and will do as retaliation. Finishing up his wrists, you stood back and moved to the end of the bed, staring down at the lovely sight. The powerful Lord Heisenberg tied to his bed with a raging boner almost begging to be touched at all. Walking back over to the nightstand you open the drawer on the bottom, pulling out a black gift box, this is where Karl starts to regret what he did. Once open, all the lovely little toys and things you could ever want to use on Karl were inside vibrators, fleshlights, plugs, dildos, cock rings, and even a cock cage, to say you had the strangest order history from the Duke was an understatement.

Looking down at your options, you pulled out one of the vibrators that you could strap around his dick and one of the larger plugs. Placing the box by his feet you crawl onto the bed and straddle his chest to face his dick, strapping the vibrator around his cock and turning it on pretty high he began to jerk his hips up at the mild touch from you, and extreme stimulation he was now experiencing.

“Oh fuck me, why so god damned high?” Karl was groaning and forced some words out in protest of your actions.

“I will just give it a while, and it’s turned up so high because I said so.” There was a bittersweet tone to your voice, happy with how he was taking the punishment. Moving off his chest, you turned around and shuffled between his legs, now grabbing the plug you pulled out. “This will stand in for me for a little bit, so get comfy.” You smiled sickly at him, the face he made was enjoyable to you given what you were currently doing. Pushing the plug to his rim, you started slowly feeding it into his hole, moans left the lord below you. Finally bottoming out the plug, you began to thrust it in and out of him gently, trying to make this enjoyable for him for the short period you were touching him. Thrusting it in one last time, you let go of the glass plug that now sat inside of him, a small noise of distaste left his mouth when you stepped off the bed and moved to the desk chair on the other side of the room, in perfect view of the bed.

“So are you just going to watch me deal with all of this from over there?” Karl was upset that you weren’t touching him, his words still shaky, and struggled as the vibrator continued its job.

“Yeah, I am, I might just read a few chapters of a book while I’m at it.” Another sickly sweet smile was sent in his direction while you grabbed the book off the desk to your left, opening it to where you had read last. However, Karl was rather determined to get you to touch him, moaning, groaning, and whining too loud for you to focus on the words written on the page.

“Please just come touch me, anything, please, I’m sorry, ple-” Karl’s sentence was quickly cut off by his first orgasm of the night, you were honestly surprised it took this long considering you had put the vibrator on nearly 5 minutes ago.

“I thought I made myself very clear that I was going to let you deal with all that for a while before I did anything, this is your punishment remember?” Without even looking up from the book you tried to remind him once more that he was in the dog house for the shit he pulled earlier. Trying to once again focus on the novel in your hands you took a deep breath and started reading. The sounds of Karl’s moans and whines were pleasant background noise at this point, you were now able to tune them out to some degree, but still keep track of how many orgasms he was having.

Finishing off the 20th page of that evening, you looked over at Karl for the first time since you sat down. His face was covered in tears, spit dribbled down his chin and mixed into his beard as his abdomen and thighs were drenched in his own cum. The sight could make anyone turned on, but knowing that this happened because of you made it even better. Accepting that his five orgasms were enough without your help, you grabbed the bookmark and placed it between the pages, closing and setting down the book on the desk before standing up. Walking to the end of the bed you smiled at Karl.

“How do you feel baby?” Your mind was still set on making sure he knew better than trying to tease you in front of everyone again.

“Please just fucking touch me, it hurts please, I’m sorry I won’t do it again just *groan* touch me” Satisfied with the response you got, you crawled onto the bed, sitting between his legs as you turned off the vibrator and took it off, his cock red and angry, still hard as could be even with cumming five times. Leaning up to his face, you kissed him as a reward for putting up with this for so long. He could’ve just used the safeword after the first few orgasms but he stuck through it like a good little puppy.

“You wanna be touched huh? Who do you want to touch you, who makes you feel the best?” There was still something in you that knew he wasn’t quite broken to where you wanted him, persistent to get him to whine and beg for your dick a little more.

“You, I want you to touch me please, you’re the only one that makes me feel good, please just fuck me, fuck me (y/n)” There it was, that’s all you needed to hear to make you pull the plug out of his ass. Standing up to pull your boxers off, you reached over to the nightstand once more to grab the bottle of lube you kept in the top drawer. Popping the cap off, squirting some of the cold viscous liquid into your palm before rubbing some on your cock, now fully erect at the sight of the fearsome Lord Heisenberg broken to almost nothing. Getting back onto the bed, you sat between his spread thighs, moving one of your fingers that still had lube on it to his ass and pushing it in slowly. His moans were like music to your ears, curling the finger you had inside him you quickly put in a second and started to scissor them.

“Just put it in already, I’ve been sitting with that plug up my ass for an hour, I’m more than stretched.” His bitter attitude was making you wish you had left him for another hour.

“I will fuck you when I want to fuck you, and you will be patient.” You should’ve known that he would backmouth you as soon as you started to touch him. Continuing with your stretching you shove a third finger in and continue to scissor him. The only noises in the room were the squelching of his lubed hole and his moans. Pleased with how stretched he was you pulled your fingers out and jacked yourself off a few times before pressing the tip to his ass. Finally pushing into him, you slowly continued inch by inch, his hole almost sucking in more of your dick each time you pushed in more. Bottoming out you just let the both of you sit there for a minute, letting Karl get used to feeling full and you get used to his walls squeezing your cock.

Pulling all the way out to the tip of your cock, you slammed back into his hole setting a brutal pace, only chasing your own pleasure at this point. Pounding his prostate his moans jump a pitch as he grabs at the ropes binding his wrists to the bedposts wishing he could do nothing more than rake his nails down your back.

“Let me touch you, I want to hold you, (y/n) please” Karl’s composure was starting to fully crumble, and you smiled at his begging. You were not about to let him possibly overpower you by letting his arms free so you pulled out of him and moved down the bed. He whined as you left his hole, not happy that his pleasure had ended, no matter how painful it was. Untying his ankles very quickly, you moved between his thighs again and pushed into him setting your pace back to what it was.

“Y-ou bastar-“A moan cut off Karl’s words as you rammed into his prostate, changing your angle to make sure you hit every time now.

“Be careful with your words pup, they might just be your ruin.” There were a couple of breaks in your sentence as low groans left your throat. Karl’s walls clenched around your cock as he came once more, seeing him cum only spurred you on more to keep pounding into him. “God you look so hot like this, covered in your own cum while I fuck you dumb.”

Karl could only reply with whines, not able to formulate words with how fast your hips pistoned into his. He was starting to break down to where you wanted him, finally. Not slowing down at all you continued to ram your cock head into his prostate, he needed to cum at least two more times before you were satisfied with his punishment. After a few more thrusts into him, he started to clench around you. The added pressure to your cock made you cum into him, but he wasn’t getting away just yet.

Continuing the brutal assault on Karl’s prostate, your thrusts didn’t slow down, you barely felt any overstimulation at all. His whines and pleas to slow down were music to your ears as Karl looked up at you with teary eyes and puffy cheeks.

“Does puppy like my cock pounding his hole?” The taunting only brought more whines, poor thing couldn’t make any actual words anymore. “C’mon I don’t like being ignored, give me an answer pup.”

“Y- *hic* ye-ess” managing to get but the one word out was hard enough for the lord, with his overstimulated body and throat raw from moaning. Karl’s orgasm came quickly with each pound of your hips onto his, the knot in his stomach grew tighter and tighter before he came. Well, not really. He orgasmed, but it was dry, nothing but his stiff cock sitting there and a blissed-out look on his face.

“Just one more baby, I know you can do it for me.” Your tone started to show more kindness, and I'm happy that Karl put up with so much of this already. Folding his legs at the knee, you threw them over your shoulder, locking Karl into a mating press. Somehow you managed to only get faster in this position as your cock head drove even deeper into your lover's ass. A few minutes later Karl had yet another dry orgasm while you finished chasing your second, filling him to the brim. You let Karl’s legs go from their position but didn’t quite leave him just yet. The moment you took to catch your breath, you also used to lean up to the smaller male's wrists and untie them from their bonds.

The lord was too weak now to do anything but lay limply on the bed, legs still loosely wrapped around you. Pulling out you groaned from the wave of pain and overstimulation that hit you, only able to imagine how Karl would be feeling in the next few hours. You climbed off the bed and headed to the connected bathroom, knowing you couldn’t lift Karl up, and that he definitely couldn’t walk you settled on wetting a rag and heading back to him.

“Hey baby, do you need anything? Some water or Tylenol?” there was nothing but love and pure contentment in your voice as you began to wipe Karl’s chest, thighs, and face down with the rag.

“Mmhm” so weak from the rough treatment he couldn’t even express more than a groan of approval.

“Alright, I’ll get you some water” Leaving a kiss on his head, you snagged your boxers off the floor near the desk and slipped them on, headed down the hall to the kitchen to grab one of Karl’s mugs. Easier to hold a mug than a glass in his condition. Then rummaging through one of the cabinets you found the Tylenol, pouring two into your palm you headed back to the bedroom. Karl hadn’t moved an inch from where he was when you left the room. “Here, sit up a little.” Placing the pills and water on the nightstand you helped to move him up slightly with a couple of pillows behind his back.

Giving him everything he needed you sat down next to him, running a hand over his thigh.

“Remind me not to piss you off again” A small chuckle from you followed his statement.

“Oh baby, I could remind you time and time again but you wouldn’t listen, we both know you’re too stubborn for that.” You leaned up to lightly kiss him on the lips. It was already past dusk, and he decided it best to simply lay in bed and sleep until morning, not like he was going to be up early like normal.

“You sure you’re okay? I didn’t go too hard on you?” Trying to see what level of care he would need in the morning you asked him a couple of questions.

“If you went too hard I would’ve said the damn safe word, now get over here and cuddle me.” His demand was cute, but you followed it nonetheless, not wishing to be anywhere else in the world at that moment.

“I love you my dear Lord Heisenberg.”

“I love you too Lord (L/N)”

[squirrellypoo]

Hot on the heels of my blood drip socks, I've loom knitted this 💜🖤 pair in anticipation of Interview with the Vampire season 3, using the colours and logo from the Rockstar Lestat S3 teaser.

First, I turned the logo into a pixellated, two colour, 32x30 pattern using the excellent Floss Cross site. I wanted to only have the logo on the outside ankle, so I'm proud that I remembered to move it to the opposite corner for the second sock!

In order to keep the floats short & tidy, I used three separate mini-bundles of black yarn instead of just using the ball. This meant I was juggling four strands instead of two but I got a much neater result inside.

I used my favourite Kb Sock Loom (fine gauge) set at 56 pegs. 🧶 Glendale Fibres Standard Sock in “Violet” 75% superwash merino / 25% nylon and @mothyandthesquid’s merino sock yarn in “Midnight Black” 75% merino / 25% nylon.

I knitted these toe up, with the Kitchener cast on, then knit the toe, 75 rows knit for the foot, an Eye of Partridge heel, then 10 rows of knit, 30 rows of the pattern, followed by 10 more rows of knit and finally 5 rows of 2x2 rib and a stretchy cast off.

The most impressive thing about this pair is how quickly I knitted them up! In total, this pair took me only 16 days from casting on to blocking, with the second sock only taking me FOUR DAYS! 😳 This is absolutely a new record for me, thanks to stress knitting and opportunistic infections on top of my Long Covid keeping me in bed even more than usual… but yay for one-of-a-kind Vampire Lestat socks!

[foot-model-reviews]

Lilith - review

Looks = 9

Smell = 10

Smell description = Cheesy

Anyone who gets a 10 in smell ranking is the worst smelling of the worst. Normally I can’t quite sus a smell to describe. managed to get a hint of cheese through all of the rancid pheromones. She wore converse, unchanged black socks and unwashed nylons. I had my mouth free thankfully. She had black painted toes. She had me on the bed and sat on my chest

[greenandhazy]

I just queued up a post about sustainable fabrics and started to write something in the tags before realizing that it was drifting away from the point

but PSA: with the caveat that the most sustainable item of clothing is the one that's already in your closet, I would suggest that if you are someone who struggles with temperature regulation, you should seriously consider adding more linen and wool to your wardrobe. determining the "true" environmental impact of various fibers is v complicated, but for a start they both use significantly less water than conventional cotton, and imo the improvement they've had on my quality of life is well worth the substitution.

linen and wool are by far the best fabrics for temperature regulation--the former is lighter and more breathable than cotton and will keep you cooler in the summer, the latter is breathable but heavier and more insulating and will keep you warmer in the winter, even if it gets wet. (there's actually a saying among people who hike/do winter sports that "cotton kills" because you are more prone to hypothermia in cotton undergarments than in wool.) do not even get me started on linen/wool vs polyester.

this is something that I think is especially important given higher cost of heating lately, higher temperatures due to climate change, and the number of people who have health conditions or medications that make them sensitive to heat. this isn't to say that your clothing/bedding choices will compensate for a livable environment, but as someone who used to wake up 2-3 times a week sweating in synthetic sheets for four months of the year, and shiver in an inadequately heated room for another three, these little swaps can seriously make extreme temperatures a little more bearable.

that being said, wool and linen do tend to be more expensive, so if you're looking to get the most bang for your buck, I would recommend starting with:

linen sheets, even just a fitted sheet (some companies do sell them solo). overheating while sleeping is literally the worst.

linen pants, especially if you work in a job that doesn't allow you to wear shorts. linen shirts are also nice, but even cotton/poly shirts tend to be thinner than pants and might already be short-sleeved/you can roll up the sleeves, so the impact of pants will be more immediate.

a chunky wool sweater. avoid cashmere, and merino unless it has cables--these are very soft, lovely wools, but they're generally pretty light and made more for their softness than their insulation properties. for maximum warmth, you don't want a thin "office sweater," you want a "my Irish gran knit this in her cottage on the windy coast" sweater.

wool socks. these are more likely to keep you dry and warm if you're walking through slush or rain, in addition to just general walking-around-the-house warmth. for these I would say the type of wool matters a little less, generally because you do want socks that are somewhat lightweight so you can wear them in shoes. and just FYI you're also more likely to see wool socks blended with silk, nylon, or spandex for strength and elasticity, so don't drive yourself up the wall trying to find the mythical 100% wool sock. even hobby knitters tend to blend wool with something because of the amount of friction that wears on socks.

again! the most sustainable type of clothing is what you already own. but some of these are the kinds of small swaps you can definitely make over time, and you might find them genuinely helpful.

[terraelbus]

small headcanons about Killer

- he has shoes, the soles of which leave cat tracks, but he doesn't wear them on important missions, since Nightmare forbade it, because such tracks are too noticeable, and if they have to retreat, they can be tracked down like this.

- Killer is constantly bored, cause in order to keep himself busy, he often gets involved in arguments or starts them himself. He's also an avid gambler and usually spends his weekends at the casino or slot machines, spending almost all of his savings or spending absolutely all of his money if he stole someone's wallet, driving the poor guy into debt.

- the only thing he knows how to cook is hot chocolate (Killer makes it simply amazing, each of the Bad Sanses will confirm this).

- he smokes electronic cigarettes and sometimes hookah.

- he can easily find a common language with anyone if he wants, so he constantly gets involved in some kind of story, from which the rest of the Bad Sanses have to extricate him before the boss finds out about everything. Once he became friends with some miner, and in the end, after a few hours, he worked as a laborer with him and his team in a mine that was located next to an active volcano. There, Killer was entrusted with driving a truck, with which he almost fell into the very mouth due to brake failure, but was able to jump out of the cab in time. Everything would have been fine, but the fallen truck awakened the volcano, which was supposed to wake up only in a few years, so the entire brigade had to flee from there in a hurry.

- in all the universes where Nightmare often takes him on missions, he has cats that he feeds.

- he likes parkour and is also quite flexible. If he needs, for example, to go down in a couple of seconds, but walking up the stairs takes a long time or is simply boring, then he can easily parkour by jumping over the fence and sliding along the wall.

- he doesn't recognize the importance of matching socks. He is always in different ones; he can easily put on a rainbow stocking on one leg and a nylon short sock on the other, which he doesn’t remember where he found, or one mesh sock and the other with a print of ballerina frogs.

- once every few months he has days of despondency, when he is extremely depressed and works on autopilot. He doesn’t tell anyone what’s going on, and sometimes he doesn’t even say a word at all for all the days, which terribly annoys the rest of Bed Sanses. On such days, he usually comes to one of them, lies down on the bed and either immediately falls asleep, or simply watches what they are doing. No one raises a hand to drive him away, because the only thing worse than the silent Killer is the silent Killer, who went off to God knows where without warning anyone.

- у него есть обувь, подошва которой оставляет кошачьи следы, но он не надевает её на важные миссии, так как Найтмер запретил, ведь такие следы слишком примеча��ельные, и, если им придётся отступать, то их могут выследить так.

- Киллеру постоянно скучно, потому чтобы хоть чем-то занять себя, он часто ввязывается в споры или сам их затевает. Он также падок на азартные игры, и свои выходные обычно проводит в казино или у игровых автоматов, спуская почти все свои сбережения или тратясь по полной программе, если он украл кошелёк у кого-то, загоняя этого беднягу в долги.

- единственное, что он умеет готовить, это горячий шоколад (он получается у Киллера просто бомбезно, это подтвердит каждый из Бед Сансев).

- он курит электронные сигареты и иногда кальян.

- он легко может найти общий язык с кем угодно, если ему этого хочется, потому постоянно ввязывается в какие-то истории, из которых остальным Бед Сансам приходится его выпутывать до того, как босс узнает обо всём. Один раз он закорешился с каким-то шахтёром, и в итоге через несколько часов батрачил с ним и его бригадой в шахте, которая находилась рядом с действующим вулканом. Там Киллеру доверили управлять грузовиком, вместе с которым чуть не свалился в самое жерло из-за отказа тормозов, но вовремя успел выпрыгнуть из кабины. Всё бы ничего, но упавший грузовик пробудил вулкан, который должен был проснуться только через несколько лет, потому всей бригаде с пришлось в спешке бежать оттуда.

- во всех вселенных, куда Найтмер часто закидывает его на миссии, у него есть коты, которых он подкармливает.

- ему нравится паркур, а ещё он довольно гибкий. Если ему нужно, к примеру, спуститься вниз за пару секунд,а идти по лестнице долго или просто скучно, то он с лёгкостью может пропаркурить, перемахнув через забор и проскользив по стене.

- он не признаёт важности одинаковых носков. Он всегда в разных; он спокойно может надеть на одну ногу радужный чулок, а на другую капроновый короткий носок, который не помнит, где нашёл, или один сетчатый носок, а второй с принтом лягушками-баллеринами.

- у него раз в несколько месяцев случаются дни уныния, когда он находится в крайне подавленном состоянии и работает на автомате. Он никому не говорит в чём дело, и даже бывает вообще не произносит ни слова за все дни, что ужасно напрягает остальных Бед Сансев. В такие дни он обычно приходит к кому-нибудь из них, ложится на кровать и либо сразу засыпает, либо просто наблюдает за тем, чем те занимаются. Ни у кого рука не поднимается прогнать его, ведь хуже молчаливого Киллера, только молчаливый Киллер, который свалил неизвестно куда, никого не предупредив.

[demisexual-kingdom]

Any good book recommendations that explicitly include masculine demisexual or ace characters? Let me know if that's too specific. The only one I've read is loveless

I've recently read the being ace antology, which was very good and had some diverse ace rep. As for other books i'm not really up to date

This recent rec post on tumblr looks promising

This one looks interesting as well

And there's the goodreads page for being ace, careful for TW for aphobia, violence, death, loss and discussion of societal pressures towards sex or romance. In particular one story “Nylon bed socks” deals with eating disorders, mental health institutions, familial rejection and neglect and suicidal tendencies (it also features a plural main character)

Hope you find anything you like!

-Mod Ruadhan

[lisainpampers]

So Daddy and I have parted ways though we will try to remain friends he will no longer be in control of my decent to babyhood and I will be running the show

The rules that I will be following is as such

1 Diapers and plastic panties are mandatory. If I choose to wear panties they will be overtop of a diaper and underneath plastic panties

2 babyfood or purée food and toddler formula is mandatory as well as a bib is to be worn at all meals and snacks infant cutlery can be used or just hands

3 the nursery will be primary build goal. Including a high chair a change table and a crib in the interim a play pen will be required

4a baby style clothing will be required at all times onesies rompers skirts and babyish dresses but any short talls or skirts must be snapped at the crotch

4b adult bra’s will not be worn only sissy bralettes or nothing. Tights will be worn and only see through white will replace nylons and or socks with the exception of ruffled socks

5 as always all questions will be answered and submitted publicly on tumblr.

6 tv shows will be limited to children’s shows and movies.

7 a pacifier will be worn at all times when not speaking or eating. And fully on display at all times. And to be used at bed time

8 baby toys will be limited to rattles and soft toys or sensory toys and limited to 12 months and under

9 a diaper bag will be fully stocked and taken everywhere

10 at home crawling will be allowed only

11 the toilet is off limits. Diapers will be used for the intended purpose. Baby wipes will replace toilet paper.

12 no less than 40 diapers/ 1 case will be purchased every two weeks.

13 diaper checks can be asked by anyone and posted to tumblr

14 messy diapers must be attended to immediately but wet diapers must be thoroughly used

15 I will answer any questions that people ask no excuses but I can still protect myself from attacks

[fiamac]

Ha! Of course, you would pick that one.

Fun fact, years ago @teacuphuman09 made this post about Inception. And I wrote a few pages in which Eames, renowned artist with a wild reputation, wants to paint a nostalgic pin-up on the side of a plane. Arthur answers the ad for a live model but protests Eames's mediocre taste in lingerie. He comes back the next day, and they make... ahem, beautiful art together.

Excerpt:

Arthur arrives dressed in slacks and a button down. Nothing designer, but his best friend picks up tailoring jobs for a manageable price.

Money well spent, judging by the appreciative flash in Eames’s eyes. “Lovely, darling, but not exactly what we talked about.”

Arthur raises a taunting brow and slowly strips. Shoes and socks first, then his shirt, revealing a cream-colored silk corset trimmed in dark red lace. Without hesitation, he steps out of his pants, showing off the matching panties cut low under the hipbones. The set is exquisite and he knows it—some of his best pieces. Worlds above the scratchy nylon atrocity Eames had yesterday.

Eames walks a slow spiral around him, moving closer with each step until he’s standing face to face with Arthur. “I must say, petal, I consider myself a man of superb artistic vision. But I bow to your greater judgement. This is… perfect.”

“Thank you. So… where do you want me?"

Eames laughs. “And how,” he murmurs. And then he clears his throat, stepping back. “Here, if you please.”

He leads Arthur to a lawn chair set near the plane, laid flat like a bed. He covers the tacky plastic with a small blanket that looks soft and hand-knitted. “Lie down if you please, on your back. Wait, wait—head here, feet on that end. Good.”