#also: I don't have a tag list

[chaos-in-one]

Friendly (or unfriendly if you're against this) reminder that this blog is supportive of ALL disorders. This blog does not think ANY disorder inherently makes someone a bad person, and is against any disorder being demonized. This blog wholeheartedly believes that a bad person having a disorder, yes, even if things that are also symptoms of their disorder are part of what caused harm, does not make the disorder a "bad" or "evil" disorder or excuse ableism and demonization directed towards the disorder.

Yes this includes personality disorders

Including npd and aspd

Yes this includes all psychotic disorders & disorders that cause psychotic symptoms

Yes this includes paraphilic disorders. All of them.

Yes this includes disorders that cause, or are even characterized by, attention seeking

Yes this includes disorders that directly have lying as a common symptom

Yes this includes dissociative disorders

Yes this includes any disorder with "gross" symptoms

Yes this includes physical disorders too

Yes this includes disorders that can cause loss of control of any kind- control of speech, control of body movement, etc.

Yes tis includes disorders that make someone "look scary"

This goes for literally any fucking disorder. There are not exceptions.

[asukachii]

"Why don't YOU drive for once?! Ya idiot!"

"BECAAAAUUSE! I... can't.. drive these things!"

[bonus]

(I don’t like putting watermarks so, PLEASE, if you want to post these gifs somewhere GIVE CREDITS! Also, don’t use them in edits/videos. Thanks~)

[hotshotsxyz]

beer & apologies

(buddie) (722 words) (7x04 coda)

It’s late, later than any reasonable person would show up on a friend’s doorstep, but Buck’s got this bright, warm feeling in his chest and all he wants to do is apologize so he can share it. For a split second he thinks about knocking, but that feels a little too much like going backwards. Instead, he lets himself in and hangs his key on the hook.

“Eddie,” he calls quietly into the still house.

“Kitchen.” The reply is soft, easy, like Eddie was expecting him.

Buck steps into the room and holds up the beer he brought.

Eddie looks up at him and grins, soft and warm in the glow of the lamplight. “What’s that for?”

“This is ‘sorry for acting like a teenager and spraining your ankle’ beer,” Buck says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Seriously, I’m sorry.”

Eddie sighs and pushes an empty chair back from the table with his foot, gesturing for Buck to sit. “I’m sorry too,” he says.

“No, no, you don’t—" Buck starts.

“Yeah, I do,” Eddie interrupts with a wry grin. “You should definitely be sorry-er, though, so I’ll take the beer.”

Buck snorts and sits, setting the six pack on the table between them.

“We didn’t—well, I didn’t…”

“I know,” Buck says. “I was just—”

“I know,” Eddie says softly.

A few, quiet moments pass, and it’s comfortable, exactly what Buck was missing the last couple of days.

“Hey,” Eddie says suddenly, sitting up a little straighter, “at least now I know why you always said no to basketball.” He smiles, loose and just a tiny bit mischievous.

Buck splutters. “What? No! I wasn’t that bad,” he protests.

Eddie lifts his injured ankle and raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, well maybe, but—”

“Uh-uh,” Eddie says, “no buts. You haven many talents, Buck, but basketball isn’t one of them.”

Buck ducks his head and grins. “Maybe I’ll get Tommy to teach me, then I can beat you without playing dirty.” Saying Tommy’s name out loud gives birth to a few giddy butterflies in his stomach.

“You two make up?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Buck says. “He uh—texted me.” The butterflies turn to little rocks.

“Good,” Eddie says, “that’s good.” He grabs a beer and twists the top off. “I really think you guys will get along, if you give him a chance.”

“We, um. Yeah. We probably will.” Buck grabs a beer of his own and stares at the label.

He doesn’t—he didn’t mean to lie. It just kind of… came out. Which, it’s Eddie. Buck knows he could tell him exactly what happened, right now, and it’d be fine. It’d be completely fine because it’s Eddie and he knows Eddie would be cool about it, probably even happy for him! But when he goes to open his mouth it just. Doesn’t.

“How’s—uh. How’s Marisol?” he asks instead, tripping over his words.

Eddie shrugs. “She’s fine, same as always. Apparently Christopher got her to play Fortnite, which, according to him, was a disaster.”

Buck laughs, shaking his head. “That kid,” he says softly.

“That kid,” Eddie agrees. He takes another swig of beer and sits back.

“Hey, wait,” Buck says suddenly. He lurches forward and snags the bottle out of Eddie’s hand. “You can’t have this, you’re on pain killers.”

“It’s my apology beer!” Eddie protests.

“Nope, two sips is plenty. I can’t hurt your ankle and your liver on the same day.”

“It’s after midnight, it’s tomorrow,” Eddie pouts. “Give it.” He makes a halfhearted attempt to grab it back, but Buck holds the beer aloft.

“Nuh-uh, absolutely not,” Buck says. “You can drink your apology beer this weekend.”

“My apology beer is going to be flat and stale,” Eddie replies, unimpressed.

Buck rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy you a new apology beer, alright?”

“Promises, promises.”

“I will!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie laughs. “You better. Want to bring it over on Saturday? We can watch the game.”

Buck’s grin falters a little bit, even as that warm feeling bubbles up in his chest all over again. “I uh- can’t, sorry.”

“What, you got a hot date or something?” Eddie asks with a laugh.

Buck takes a long swallow from the beer he stole from Eddie. “Yeah, something,” he says with a hollow laugh.

He feels like a liar.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I haven't read these books at all, but your art is so fun and cute that I like seeing your comics a lot regardless. Fantastic Silly Little Guy energy.

Thank you for enjoying my silly little guys and my comics B*)

[knockknockitsnickels]

I think this is one of my favorite lines from the Wraith route because of (imo) how much the meaning changes depending on if you got there via Spectre or Nightmare. For Spectre, it honestly strikes me as a genuine question. Why are you doing this to her? If you're on the Spectre route, you presumably already know the Narrator can't really be trusted, since you had to reject his reward to get here. What are you hoping to gain from continuing to hurt her? For Nightmare, it honestly just makes me sad. As the Shifting Mound describes her, "She desires only companionship, but the only thing she knows is how to hurt." This line feels like a plea from someone who genuinely doesn't understand why you keep rejecting her. She wants to be with you, but she just can't understand how to do that in a way which doesn't hurt you.

[lil-lemon-snails]

Have some low-quality sun screenshots while i stress over colour palettes :)

vvv

Went through SO MANY stages w this design and i'm still not 100% about it BUT- progress is being made (maybe)

Witness my pain

[recareels]

gmorning Clari!!! 💘 I’m not sure you’ve done it before, but I’d loooove to know what type of yanderes you’d classify your genshin faves as 😘

ANDYYYY i am so sorry i am responding a few days late to this and that’s because i accidentally wrote you a whole novel for an answer :) your ask sparked so many thoughts and i just BLAAAH spewed them all over the page (*ﾉωﾉ) ugh ahahaha ANYWAY oh gosh okay i have so much to say, let’s get into it!!! also apologies for how MASSIVE ajax’s is waaaah

characters: wriothesley, ajax [childe], kamisato ayato, thoma warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, yandere behaviour (gaslighting, obsessiveness, toxic relationships, delusional thinking, manipulation, over-protectiveness, etc) words: 2.1k

₊˚⊹ 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲

WRIOTHESLEY is the controlling, authoritarian type that feels like a really strict father, all under the guise of ‘protecting you’ and ‘keeping you safe’. he veers into delusional territory a little here because he genuinely believes what he’s telling you (and himself) and genuinely believes himself to be doing the right thing. he isn’t possessive, he just wants to make sure you’re going out with safe people. he isn’t obsessive, he just wants to know where you are at all times in case an emergency strikes and he has to come find you. he isn’t overbearing, he just cares and is proactive—don’t you want him to care? can’t you see he’s only this ‘protective’ because he loves you? 

he has thoroughly convinced himself that this behaviour has nothing to do with jealousy or a desire to keep you locked up, to keep you 100% certainly safe and his forever, and nothing to do with wanting to exert complete control over you, orchestrating your every decision—and he’s pretty good at continuously deluding himself into believing it. he’s so good, in fact, and his logic is so sound, that it has YOU wondering if you’re ‘just being crazy’, if you’re overthinking things or reading too much into them. wriothesley has had a lot taken away from him, after all, and he knows exactly how the mind of criminals tick—can you really blame him for being a bit paranoid? maybe you’re the one who’s overreacting and being unreasonable. maybe you’re even feeling a little guilty for being so ungrateful—shouldn’t you appreciate having someone who loves and cares for you this much to go to such extents? shouldn’t you want to relinquish all power to someone you love equally as much? shouldn’t you trust him to make only the best, most sound and appropriate decisions for you? you probably should. 

₊˚⊹ 𝐚𝐣𝐚𝐱

AJAX is kind of like, the typical yandere, and he encompasses several ‘types’, evolving throughout the course of your relationship and shapeshifting into different variants depending on the situation itself. and while the other three men seem normal until you’re in too deep with them, refraining from showing symptoms of yandere-ness until after you’ve been with them for an extended period of time and mean a lot to them, ajax is weird from the very beginning. 

almost immediately you can sense that there’s something slightly off about him, but you can’t put your finger on what it is. it’s so subtle that it doesn’t strike you as particularly dangerous, leading you to merely write it off as one of his quirks and nothing more. 

he’s overbearing right from the start, of course; not necessarily enough to be concerning just yet, but enough for it to be abnormal—unusual—and noticeable (which reminds me of your lil ajax piece!!!). from the instant he sees you, he is irreversibly obsessed with you. you permeate his every waking thought, and eventually begin to leak into his dreams, too, and suddenly he can barely breathe without knowing where you are and what you’re doing, his concentration consumed by you. 

he begins stalking you—‘overseeing’, he had called it—making detailed notes of your favourite locations and your most frequented friends. he’s constantly got an eye on you one way or another, even if he has to employ other people to do it for him, discreetly reporting their findings every few hours. he tells them you’re in danger—which, you are, technically—and that you must be observed at all times from afar, silently and stealthily. 

ajax is patient and he can play the waiting game, carefully devising and then revising his strategy based on your moves. he loves playing predator and prey, gets a thrill from how the hunt unfolds—much like a battle, it’s a story, a rich tapestry you and he are constantly and concurrently creating, together. and that he thinks is so beautiful.

in textbook yandere fashion, once he’s gathered a sufficient amount of intel, he begins ‘showing up’ randomly at your usual spots, ‘bumping into you’ fortuitously. charming and sweet, the only thing that’s initially unsettling is just how well the two of you get along. ajax is sure not to mimic you too much—he doesn’t want to be a mirror, after all, and being too similar is far from a good thing (especially when it matches so well it simply can’t be coincidental).

well—that, and the sharp glint in his eye that flares with something dangerous every time you giggle or gush, every time you fall further for him. and once he has you enchanted, ensnared, you’re trapped for life, tangled up in him so tightly that he might as well have fused to your flesh. 

ajax likes to tell you it isn’t about power and control, but he knows that it is. he’s smart, and he’s self aware, and he doesn’t really care if this is ‘wrong’—he sees it as necessary and he genuinely believes he knows better than you do. he has to take care of you, or else who will? you’re clearly not capable of satisfactorily doing it on your own, so he must (god, how would you manage without him?). even if you oppose him or fight back against him, he’s purely convinced you’re bull-headed and stubborn, snorting at your wanting to be independent when he truly knows you’re too stupid take care of yourself ‘properly’ all on your own.

violence is a mainstay of your relationship, but not towards you; never towards you—merely towards everyone around you. his jealousy knows no bounds, but you will rarely see it outright. instead, ajax prefers to hone his emotions, to fashion them into a weapon or use them as fuel to thoroughly tear apart anyone who looks your way in a manner he doesn’t like. it’s his job as your lover and keeper, isn’t it? 

₊˚⊹ 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨

AYATO knows what he is, and he doesn’t care. why should he, when he’s sure what he’s doing is ultimately correct and he’s used to having everything that he wants, and everything going his way, even if he has to force/manipulate it to? he’s so skilled at that in particular—manipulating situations and events to procure favourable outcomes for himself. in ayato’s mind, you should be grateful that he affords you so many freedoms—he could lock you away in the basement or a padded room, chain you to a bed with no entertainment or stimulation save for the books he has so conscientiously selected for you, and no other human contact aside from himself. but he trusts you, and he doesn’t want to go to those measures (though rest assured, he has promised you he will not hesitate to reach such heights if he deems it absolutely necessary, no matter how much he doesn’t want to; you staying his comes before his personal preferences and pleasures). as such, he allows you to roam the estate grounds under the watchful eye of his closest confidants and most capable guards (usually thoma, unless he is otherwise occupied and busy); he allows you access to letter writing materials (though they must go through two rounds of supervision and revisions before they are approved; once by thoma, and once by ayato himself); he allows you to go out in public as long as you are with him, etc. 

despite these apparent freedoms he affords you, he still picks your outfits out for you each day, and he devises a comprehensive meal plan for you each week, and creates schedules and rules he expects you to follow, thoroughly and meticulously to the letter. it is these subtle forms of ownership that he enjoys the most. he doesn’t feel the need to shout from the mountaintops, loudly and aggressively, that you are his, because the fact is so obvious, so evident, the second anyone merely glances at you. you walk like him, you talk like him, you sit, stand, and bow like him, just like he trained you to. 

ayato is also the type of yandere to punish you. he is molding your pretty little mind into exactly what he wants it to be, and that means that undesirable behaviours must be immediately and severely corrected through appropriate punishments—you must learn, or be taught what is right and what is wrong in ayato terms + definitions, so you will refrain from repeating such behaviour in the future. he is truly crafting you into the most perfect, precious, obedient little doll—and having a blast while doing so. it’s his little pet passion project, in a way; something he looks forward to working on when he has a moment of spare time. 

ayato was sly and clever with the way he initially enticed you, entrapped you, but underneath his cool, precisely chiseled exterior, ayato is selfish, manipulative, and extremely controlling. all decisions are ultimately made by and go through him. he will skillfully and carefully cut you off from all lifelines and communication, rendering you wholly dependent on him, and then will meticulously chip away at your mind until he sculpts it into exactly what he desires—someone who is as obsessed with him as he is with them. he slowly, stealthily, and steadily induces a severe, irreversible case of stockholm syndrome. the damage he does to your mind is permanent—and that’s exactly his goal. you now live for him. your days are marked by his appearances, his comings and goings, and the only thing you have to look forward to is seeing + spending time with him. you live to please him, live to be with him, and become absorbed by him, so you are merely an extension of him and no longer an individual yourself. everything revolves around ayato—he is your entire universe. 

₊˚⊹ 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚

THOMA is the most dangerous type of yandere, because thoma is genuine. thoma’s feelings are 100% authentic—and he earnestly intends to bring you no harm whatsoever—they’re just way too intense. he loves you so much that it veers into insanity, and the passion he feels towards you (and towards keeping you safe + claiming you as his) is so fierce that it physically hurts him to experience, chest blistering with scorching adoration and razored affection, something so dense and so all-consuming that thoma wants to claw through his own flesh and pry his ribcage apart spoke by spoke just so he can experience a shred of relief. 

thoma is, for the most part, an honest guy—starkly, brashly honest, so honest it shatters his words and gnaws at his voice, leaving it rough and raw, splintered to shards; but you can always trust he says exactly what he means. he severely lacks self awareness, not even realizing that his behaviour is inappropriate and extreme (he just cares about you SO much! it blinds his rationale and erodes his logic, incapacitating his ability to understand that he’s so suffocating it borders on terrifying). 

but what makes thoma so incredibly perilous is his sincerity. he truly just wants to keep you safe, eyes brimming with tears and voice hitching on barely contained emotion as he thoroughly explains to you his logic for stashing tracking devices in your bags or his reasoning for shattering the kneecaps of the man who made you uncomfortable at work, sentiment thick in his throat, words straining with the weight of his honesty, with the desperation for you to understand, to see it his way. he swears to the high heavens that he’d never hurt a single hair on your pretty, precious little head, and promises that he doesn’t want to scare you, but firmly asserts that he will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. 

and he means it. thoma is, in the most essential sense, your guard dog. he’s so sweet towards you, even submissive at times, always subservient to your every wish and whim, your every demand and desire, but he’ll fucking rip anyone within a meter of you to pieces with his teeth and bare hands alone if he feels as though you are being threatened in any way—and his standards and definition of ‘threatened’ are extreme and absurd, of course, causing him to react in a way that is severely disproportionate to the situation.

it borders on too much all the time—he is too obsessive, too protective, too clingy, but he’s also so sweet, so gentle, so incredibly bonafide that you can’t help but not be upset with him. he only does what he does because you’re his entire world, right? what’s so harmful about that? 

[averycutesalamander]

thoughts about public woohoo with boothill? i feel like he'd be into it sometimes

public woohoo 😭😭😭 ur so funny omg

i think he matches your vibes on it? in the sense that when you're into it, he's SUPER into it, but when you're not, he's perfectly happy without it. he definitely doesn't shy away from risk, and he especially loves taking risks when you're involved.

i kinda think he's of two minds about it. on one hand, he absolutely has a possessive streak, so making everyone know you're "his" is super appealing to him. (on that note, pull out the ol' "i'm yours" on him, and he'll go crazy. like, hands and teeth and everything all over you kinda crazy.)

on the other hand, he's... well, pretty greedy about you. there's a line in DHCS that acknowledges this pretty directly...

He's nearly overwhelmed by the suffocating urge to kiss you; to bite marks into your delicate little throat; to bend you over this counter and have his way with you, onlookers be damned.

(Hm. Maybe not that last one – he’s far too greedy, far too possessive, to expose you to a room full of strangers. He’d much rather keep you all to himself; his to covet, his to adore, his to break.)

in regards to a scenario? well...

(read on ao3 if you'd prefer)

Boothill has decided that he absolutely hates this new contact.

First of all, she's cagey as fuck, and she constantly dances around the point. Secondly, she only ever communicates in the most obtuse code he's ever seen. Thirdly, she absolutely insists that, for his next lead, he has to find her at a masquerade to receive the information in person.

She's lucky that her intel is so damn valuable, or he'd have wrung her neck a hundred times over by now - and unloaded his revolver into her a few times for good measure.

He rants and raves to you for quite some time, venting his frustration as he swears up and down that he's never turning to her again once this whole affair is done. By the time he runs out of steam, he's slumped against your shoulder with his arms wrapped around you, utterly drained. You pet his hair soothingly, letting him cool off before quietly asking, "Is there anything I can do to help, honeybee?"

He's quiet for a long moment, before finally lifting his head to look at you, a peculiar look in his eye. "Well..." he's begins hesitantly, "would ya put me in an early grave if I asked ya to come with me, sweetpea?"

You laugh, shaking your head in open amusement. "I suppose I can spare you, just this once." You press a quick kiss to his forehead, your smile turning a bit mischievous. "Get me a dress and treat me to ice cream after, and I'll do whatever the hell you want."

The very next day, he brings you to a shop - pleasantly small with an obscenely well-crafted selection. You balk when you walk inside, immediately stunned by the space, because this isn't just for rich people, this is for rich people. The moment you turn to him to argue that this is way too nice, you find that he's already grinning and shaking his head.

"I don't give a hoot what ya say," he drawls, openly delighted. "What the fork else am I gonna burn all this IPC cash on, huh? Let me treat ya, sunshine."

And so, you end up getting the most extravagant article of clothing you've ever touched in your life, guided by an incredibly sweet attendant that doesn't even blink at your cluelessness. Boothill lingers in the dressing room, whistling obnoxiously every time you step out in a new dress; he practically faints (whether or not it's a joke is up for debate) when you walk out in a comfortably tight underbust corset, his eyes trailing lasciviously from the curve of your waist to the swell of your chest. (He thanks every higher power he can think of that his cock is kept in an internal compartment, because lord fucking knows he'd be so horny that he'd risk busting his jeans open.)

Once you settle on a dress and have it sent off to be tailored to your size, you keep him company while another attendant takes all of his measurements for a suit, fitting him into one to test how well the jacket hugs his waist. He grouches about how this doesn't fit his style at all, but shuts right up when he sees the look on your face. (Maybe wearing a suit won't be so bad if you keep staring at him like you want to eat him alive.)

In the following days, the date of the masquerade looms over you - and all the while, Boothill eyes you with a look you can't quite decipher.

Finally, it all comes to a head the day after you pick up your newly tailored outfits.

His eyes are dark when he holds up a remote-controlled vibrator - one that syncs to his neurochip, which lets him control it with a simple thought; there's an app as well, which would let you shut it off on your own if you ever got too overwhelmed. He tilts his head in question, and the gesture might've seemed innocent if not for the untamable hunger in his eyes.

If you decline, that's the end of it, and the entire masquerade passes without too much incident. Once business is done, you dance and chat, berating the event's selection of alcohol and quietly mocking the outfit choices of every aristocrat you see. If you accept, however...

The night of the masquerade arrives on your doorstep, heralded by the anticipation bubbling in your gut. The atmosphere is so taut that you both get ready in silence, but his hungry eyes tell you everything you need to know. He helps you into your dress, does your hair for you (he's shockingly good at it), and, if you'd like, paints your nails with his unfathomably steady hands. You help him with his tie, braid his hair neatly, and straighten out the relatively simple black, silver, and red mask on his face. And all the while, he stares at you like a wolf sizing up its prey - watching, prowling, waiting for the time to strike.

Finally, the time to leave arrives. You stare at each other for a long, tense moment before he finally rasps, "Back against the wall, doll. Spread your legs and lift your skirt for me, won't ya?"

Oh, you're already done for, and the night has only just begun.

He gets down on his knees in front of you, easing down your underwear with cold fingers. He's ready to prep you, but to his delight, you're already getting wet. He looks up at you with piercing eyes, grinning wickedly. "Filthy girl," he scolds without heat. "I haven't even touched ya, n' you're already soakin' your panties?"

You whimper when he grazes your folds with his fingers, openly admiring the way your slit trembles. "Can you blame me? You've been looking at me like you were gonna fuck me before we even left."

He laughs, dark and gritty. "Oh, you're barkin' up the wrong tree, cutie." Then, he lifts the toy, pressing it right against your entrance. "I'm gonna make you work for it first."

Without further preamble, he slowly, agonizingly eases it inside, and when it's fully seated, you have one end nestled right against your g-spot, and the other pressed tauntingly against your clit. For a moment, you think that's going to be the end of it for now - but then he eases it out ever-so-slightly, giving him just enough room to lap hungrily at your clit. You gasp and shake on your feet, clenching one hand in his hair so tight that he growls into your cunt. You throw your head back against the wall and moan all pretty for him, helpless as he circles your bud with his tongue.

He holds you there, just like that, subtly thrusting the toy against your g-spot, winding you tighter and tighter, and just when your breath hitches, just when your thighs start to tremble, just when you're about to tip over the edge-

He pulls away, sending you crashing back down to earth.

You whine in anguish as he settles the toy back inside you, sliding your panties back on like he'd never been there at all. He kisses your thigh tenderly in what might've seemed like sympathy if not for the devilish glint in his eye.

"Sorry, honey," he hums, not sorry at all, standing back up and licking your come from his lips. "Gonna have to wait."

(Oh, if only you knew.)

The ride over to the event is quiet and tense, but rather peaceful - until he starts testing out the vibrator, that is. He holds you in his lap and wraps his unrelenting arms around you, which might've looked sweet to the chauffeur, but you know better. You keep your jaw clenched tightly, trying to get yourself into the practice of stifling all of your noises and reactions - but he seems to take that as a challenge, because he hikes the intensity higher and higher until you're trembling like a leaf against him, your fingers wound in his suit jacket. And just when it nearly overwhelms you, just when you think you might reach your peak, he lowers it back down to a subtle hum.

And then you arrive to the masquerade, and the true depth of what you've signed yourself up for hits you full force.

He lingers with you for a time, keeping the vibrator rather low, even turning it off on occasion. He grants you the small mercy of adjusting to the crowd in relative peace, but you're already so wound up that it doesn't do that much good. Eventually, he kisses you sweetly on the lips and murmurs, "Gotta go take care of some business, sweetpea. You gonna be alright?"

It's a genuine question, so you answer genuinely. "As long as you don't torture me the whole time you're gone."

When he smiles, you feel like you've just stepped into a trap. "Of course, baby. I'll be back in a jiffy."

He's nice enough to let you get situated in a quiet corner with a drink before he starts fucking with you. To his credit, he sticks to his word...

But only to the letter, and not to the spirit.

He torments you for most of the time he's gone, but not quite all of it. For the most part, he sticks to the lower settings; you seek him out through the crowd, and he meets your gaze across the ballroom while he speaks to someone you don't recognize, his eyes glittering with promise. You thank every Aeon you can think of that no one tries to talk to you while he's gone, because he won't stop randomly spiking the intensity, higher and higher until your fingers are quivering around the stem of your glass - then he drops it right back down, leaving you stewing in a mix of grief and relief.

You completely lose track of time, your eyes going distant and hazy as you put all of your focus into keeping yourself together. He scares the hell out of you when he finally returns, looping one arm around your shoulders and leaning close to your ear, purring, "Hey there, sugar. Is somethin' wrong? You're lookin' a lil' faint."

The look you give him is positively murderous, but he just laughs right in your face. Then, with mischief in his eyes, he invites you to a dance - and how could you ever say no to a face like that?

He might find the music stale - nothing will ever beat the music from back home - but it's all worth it to watch you squirm. Just before the first song begins, he leans right next to your ear and whispers, "Count how many times ya come, and how many times I deny ya. You can do that, can't ya, princess?"

When you hesitantly nod, his smile turns lethal, sharp enough to cut both ways.

(What he doesn't tell you is that you aren't going to come at all. Only he gets to see you like that. Only he gets to feel you tremble. Only he gets to hear all of the pathetic little noises that spill from your lips.)

He edges you the entire fucking time, and he keeps you on that dance floor for as long as you can stand it. Again and again, he builds you up, then breaks you down, guiding you seamlessly every time you stumble or trip, the toy jostling against your g-spot with every step. If you ever get too quiet for his liking, he turns up the vibrator until you can't help yourself. The little noises you make are lost to the crowd and the music, but not to his enhanced hearing. Get too loud, and he turns it back down until you pull yourself together - over and over and over, until your brain feels like liquid in your skull. Before long, you're leaning into his shoulder, using his body to shield the way your jaw drops whenever he brings you to the edge again.

And every single time, you whimper that ever-increasing number in his ear, and every single time, he purrs in delight and croons, "Good girl."

He murmurs filth into your ear the whole time, his breath washing over you as he describes in ruinous detail all of the things he's going to do to you later, all of the ways he's going to break you.

Eventually, he leans close and murmurs, "How wet are you, doll?" The timbre of his voice so close has shivers skittering up your spine. "Bet you're soaked by now."

Just to fuck with you, he hikes up the intensity of the vibrations right when you open your mouth to reply. You trip over your own feet, but he sweeps you along without batting an eye, somehow making your slip-up look natural.

When he finally turns it back down and you compose yourself, you grit out, "I was soaked before we even got here, you fucking basta- oh!"

He smiles with the most unconvincing mask of innocence the world has ever seen as he raises the intensity again, your backtalk dying in your throat. Then, as he lowers it to a more reasonable level, he turns his head to press a kiss to your temple to hide his wicked grin from any onlookers. "Poor baby," he croons, so demeaning that it has your walls shivering around the toy. "You drippin' down your legs yet, sugar? Bet it's smearin' all over your thighs."

You answer him with a pretty little whimper, and he can't help but chuckle, low and husky in your ear.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. Once I'm through with you here, I'm gonna take ya somewhere nice n' quiet, and then I'll get down on my knees for ya," he rumbles. "I'll hold ya up against the wall and lick your thighs clean, 'til you're beggin' me to put my tongue in your pretty lil' hole, 'til you're beggin' me to suck on your clit."

On and on and on he goes, until you're so fucking drenched that the entirety of your inner thighs are slick with your wetness, until you're so desperate to come that you think you might fall to your knees and beg for it, audience be damned.

Just when you're about to tap out, right when you're about to cave and beg him for mercy, he sweeps you into a grand dip at the end of a song, and you're trying so hard to keep it together, and just when you think he's going to finally let you come-

The vibrator goes completely still.

When he finally pulls you up, he wraps a strong, possessive arm around your waist, guiding you off the dance floor with the poise and seriousness of a man on a mission. You're so out of it that you barely register when he sweeps you into a bathroom, but you certainly snap to attention when he wheels around and pins you flat to the door with his hands tight around your hips. The lighting casts his face so starkly in shadow that all you can see are the red pinpricks of his pupils.

Without saying a word, he cranks the vibrations to the maximum, and watches you fall apart.

You moan and whimper helplessly under his stare, and as your peak rapidly creeps up on you, you can't stop yourself from begging. You whine and beg and plead for him to let you come, completely shameless in your need.

"I've been good," you gasp, your throat closing as you race toward the edge yet again. "Please, please, please, bee. I've been good!"

He stares, utterly silent, pinning you with his unwavering gaze.

Your orgasm is so close you can fucking taste it, and your heart is pounding with anticipation, because you still don't know if he's going to let you come, if he's going to deny you again, if he's going to keep torturing you, if he's going to leave you stranded on this edge forever and ever and-

Oh- Oh, fuck, you can't take it- You can't-

You come so hard your vision goes white.

You can feel the pressure of his lips against yours, swallowing up the broken wail that escapes you, drinking it down, down, down as you spiral in the clutches of your orgasm. Your knees collapse from under you, but he supports your weight like it's nothing, keeping you pinned like a moth against the door. As you ride out the waves of your climax, your fingers wound tightly in his suit jacket, he gradually eases the vibrations lower and lower, coaxing you down; finally, you go completely boneless against him, fully trusting him to keep you upright, and he shuts off the toy entirely.

He holds you while you recover, petting your hip with his thumb, cradling you as you piece yourself back together.

"I think I just died," you mumble into his jacket, your mind still heavy with fog.

He chuckles softly, pressing his lips into your hair. "Well, I guess I'll have to revive ya," he murmurs as he pulls away, grasping you by the chin and forcing you to face him, and his voice is thick with gravel when he says, "because I'm not done yet."

You're not quite sure what expression crosses your face, but whatever it is, it makes him grin wickedly.

"How many times did I deny ya, princess?" he rumbles, as if he hadn't been counting alongside you the whole time.

You take a trembling breath, clearly needing a moment to piece your brain together. When you finally answer, your voice is as fragile as a breath of wind.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart. Didn't realize I'd done so many," he lies blatantly, smiling in a way that might've seemed apologetic if he weren't grinning like the cat that caught the canary.

Then, his hands trail slowly downward, and he kneels on the tile in front of you, gradually raising the hem of your skirt higher and higher. You instinctually take it from him with shaking fingers, hiking it up to expose yourself to him. Sure enough, you've completely soaked through your panties, and drops of your slick trail obscenely down your legs. Ever-so-slowly, he eases your panties downward, licking his lips at the sight of you.

"Lemme make it up to ya, baby," he murmurs, his eyes fixed shamelessly on your cunt. Then, he looks back up at you, his eyes dark and all-consuming. "I'll make ya come once for every time I cut ya off. Ain't I generous?"

He's going to kill you. He's going to eat the fucking soul out of you. He's going to break you apart until your mind is ground into dust.

He eases the toy out of you, and a heavy stand of your come stretches and snaps as he pulls it away. Without a moment of hesitation, he laves his tongue across it, moaning obscenely at your taste. You watch with an intoxicating mixture of awe and arousal as he cleans the vibrator end-to-end, licking up every drop until nothing remains; then, he tucks it nonchalantly into his pocket, utterly unbothered.

"Don't forget to count, doll." He grins up at you with too many teeth, leaning closer to your pussy. "And... make some noise for the folks outside, won't ya?"

@opheliaflavoredinstantnoodles @ikeagroceries @shadowstadium @theswashbucklingspy @cosmo112 @fxngtasy

[posi-pan]

a day late, but i’m here now so let’s spread some love and support for pan folks!! i hope pansexual, panromantic, panalterous, pansensual, panplatonic, panaesthetic, and pangender (and any other pan related labels i might’ve missed) people have a lovely week. i love y’all so much.

pan week is december 6-12 💗💛💙

[koushuwu]

They’re Beautiful

time skip!Iwaizumi Hajime x afab!reader | 18+ content | 1,137 words | established relationship, kinda rough sex, kind of hand fetish i guess, very mild choking. Iwaizumi finally understands your obsession with his hands.

Iwaizumi Hajime never had the largest frame in his social circle and he was well aware of that. Yeah, he was muscular with broad shoulders and it wasn’t like he was short either, but there was always someone taller or broader than him. What he did have though, was the largest and prettiest hands that you’d ever seen; something that you’d never neglected to remind him. Truth be told, the ‘big’ part was the thing you’d told him most often, but he knew you found the pretty as well.

He never really understood your obsession with his hands though. They were just hands after all. Of course, without them he wouldn’t be able to play volleyball, something he very much loved doing. So yes of course he liked them too. But it was clear to him that it was for very different reasons that you liked them. And to a very different extend. You’d always make sure to tend to his hands after a game. You played with his fingers when the two of you were hanging out, relaxing. He even noticed you taking pictures once or twice, when he’d held your hand in his.

He didn’t really understand it. At least not until the two of you started getting more intimate. That’s when he suddenly started seeing his own hands in a different light.

He had big hands alright. He noticed it the first time he cupped your breast in his hands. The way his fingers pressed softly against your skin made his mouth dry. He’d swallowed hard as he drank in the sight. He really had big hands, he noticed again, once when he held onto your hips when you were on top of him, clothed pussy riding his jean clad thigh.

Iwaizumi started actually understanding the liking you’d taken to his hands, but he didn’t entirely get it, before that one time when you grabbed the base of his hand with both of yours, lifting it to your lips. The two of you had been intimate more than once at this point, but not once had he experienced anything quite like watching you guiding his hand to your lips. Like watching the passionate way you wrapped your lips around his fingers. Your gaze had locked on his and kept him in a delirious chokehold as your tongue swirled around his digits, effectively covering them in saliva. His cock jumped at that point. His hand looked good in yours. It looked good against your skin. It looked so utterly delicious in your mouth. Maybe he actually began to really get it.

“I bet your hands would look good around my throat,” you told him once and forcibly suppressed a chuckle when his eyes widened and his adams apple bobbed in his throat. You’d crawled up in his lap as he was sat on the bed after a shower. Both of your lips were swollen from heated kisses shared. “Do you want to try?” His eyes searched your face even as his cock throbbed underneath you. He wanted to, that much was clear, but he wasn’t just going to assume. He wasn’t like that.

“Are you—“

“Sure?” You finished his question for him. “Hajime, please. I want to feel it. Don’t be shy, you can be a little rough if you want,” you said and took his hands in yours, guiding them from your hips and up. Up. Up. Iwaizumi watched in awe as you placed his hands against your throat.

“I—“

“Hajime,” you all but whined, rolling your hips against him. And at that point, Iwaizumi’s gaze flickered to his hands as he let them slide up further against your skin. Yeah. His hands were big. And you were right. They did look good against your neck. At that moment, Iwaizumi thought he finally completely understood. They were beautiful. But not because they were his or in themselves. They were beautiful in unity with your body. As if they were made for your body. It got it. He understood. That’s how it started.

Now he had you on all fours on the bed, cock buried inside of you. His rhythm had your eyes rolling back in your head and his gaze fell on his hands against your hips. They were beautiful. His gaze flicked up to where you threw your head back against a particularly harsh thrust of his hips.

“You said I could be a little rough, didn’t you?” Iwaizumi asked. Even now, as he found it so hard to resist, he wanted to hear you say it.

“Y-yes—“ your voice broke off and a moan tore from your throat. “Haji— Please—“ and that was what it took before you felt it. Iwaizumi saw himself moving before he realized that he was. It was as if he was in a trance when his fingers threaded through your hair and pushed.

“Haji—“ Your arms gave out as Iwaizumi forced your body to bend further, face smushed into the pillow. Your loud moans filled the air around you, as Iwaizumi changed the angle of his thrusts, to go even deeper.

“Fuck,” he cursed. “Look at me,” he urged and loosened his hold to let you turn your head further. You looked up at him, out of the corner of your eye, and even in this state, you couldn’t get past how beautiful he looked. His eyes were curiously fixated on his hand now resting against the side of your face.

“Hajime,” you babbled and he swore he could have cum right then and there. He didn’t. He managed to hold back, even as a low groan rumbled in his chest and he pressed down a little harder. “Harder.”

Iwaizumi obliged. Happily at that, with his gaze locked onto your face on the pillow and his hands against it. He rocked into you harder. Cock aching for release when a little cripple of drool slipped from the corner of your mouth. Iwaizumi relentlessly fucked into you, and watched up come undone by him. He watched your eyes rolling back, your tongue lolling out and your saliva slipping down on the pillow. He bullied his cock into your tight warmth until the both of you reached your climax and through it. Even then, his fingers twitched against your face.

With his thumb, he swept the drool off your chin, and he knew that he finally understood. He really did understand your obsession with his hands after all. And after that one time, Iwaizumi was never able to see his hands the same way again, because whenever he tried, he pictured them against your skin. He pictured them pushing your face into the mattress. He pictured them around your throat or with his fingers in your mouth. But he had to admit, that that truly was a beautiful sight.

tags: @prettyiwa​

[saline-coelacanth]

I've had Ocs on the brain so I decided to make a Ninjago Oc Ask Game! This is my first time making an ask game, I tried my best with the questions

🐉 Are they an Elemental Master? What element do they have? If they’re not an EM, do they have any other non-elemental powers?

🗡 How good are they in a fight? Do they have a preferred weapon?

🖤 What’s their opinion on the ninja?

💖 Do they have a crush or significant other?

🌈 What’s their sexuality?

🎨 Do they have a favorite color? What is it?

🖊 What season would they be introduced into the story? If not directly introduced in a season, when in the timeline are they introduced?

🐍 If they were a Serpentine, what type would they be? If they’re already a Serpentine, what other species would they be if they weren’t Serpentine?

🏔 If they could travel to any realm, which realm would they go to?

⚡ What have they been up to after the merge?

❗ Could they beat any of the ninja in a fight?

🧠 How did you first come up with this character? Any interesting details about creating them?

💀 How much trauma do they have?

🌪 Do they know spinjitzu?

🐱 If they were to have an animal symbol, what animal would represent them?

🎮 If they were in Prime Empire, what would their avatar look like?

👪 Do they have any family members? What’s their relationship with their family?

⏳ How long have you had this oc?

💪 What is their greatest strength? What’s the biggest thing holding them back?

☝️ If they could only exist in one season of the show, which season would they be in?

Feel free to reblog this so your followers can send you asks about your Ninjago Ocs!

[crookedfivefingers]

3.13 | ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʟᴏʀᴅꜱ

link to the post I accidentally wound up prattling endlessly about in the tags 💀

[harpoonsnotspoons]

I will ruin you

[kakusu-shipping]

Wait I don't wanna be an asshole who only posts Silly Meme Crossover ships, so REAL FAST, I don't get crossover ships much but one I HAVE been considering and I'll share it to offset the silly haha meme I just posted. Deal? Cool

Checkered King X Kinger

Both Kings in an Unreal world, both Chess Themed, Both Purple-adjacent, and both are tragic bisexuals who lost their beloved wife (Checkered King to an unspecified illness, Kinger to Abstraction)

Do I think they should kiss? Eeeeeh. Do I think they should go to the same group therapy sessions and chat? Absolutely.

I dunno if you asked me a crossover ship I liked now I think I would say these two. It helps I consumed all of their medias in the same 24 span of time.

[the-dragon-girl-27]

Drawing I never posted time so funny story:

so there's this one like really REALLY good Miku cover of a Super Sentai song i found like a year ago and recently i went "hey maybe i should make some fanart of it because I like the cover so much I can even shill the cover in the post so other people listen to it"

then i started drawing this and went to look up the cover to get in the mood only to discover the creator deleted the original upload and replaced it with a version that used AI art for the thumbnail (i am SO salty that guy made amazing covers whyyyy) (this is the saltiest ive ever been about someone using AI) and uhh the cover itself is still great but AI art goes against my morals so I don't wanna link it but I was already inspired to do this art so i finished it anyway

WHOOPSE

we can just say now this is art of Miku as a Shinkenger or whatever to my 2 followers that appeals to

(anyway this is how you learn i've been slowly falling down the tokusatsu rabbit hole recently)

[dear-ao3]

Next time add a tag when you post something about Taylor Swift because seeing anything having to do with her makes me irrationally angry and I have every possible thing blocked

thank you

this also you?