#and I kinda hope this is explored a bit more

[fallenfrommars6277]

Okay, I've seen the cameo where George hints at Edwin's "first adult experience" with the Cat King and I wish to share my two cents about it.

First of all, disregarding which pair anyone ships, I believe we can safely say that Payneland will eventually be endgame: it is left as an option by Charles in Hell, it is hinted in the show and it is basically sustained by Jayden and George themselves.

I am, for one, a Payneland shipper. I admit that at first I wanted them to stay just friends because I am a sucker for great friendship stories, but rewatch after rewatch I started to see them as soulmates in a romantic kinda way.

Nevertheless, I think (and honestly have thought since the beginning, not just because they said that now) that it would be great to see how Catwin would evolve and in particular I think it's just right that Edwin has his first experiences with the Cat King, maybe not straight away sex, but in general intimate experiences.

Let me explain.

Yes, it would be nice to see Edwin and Charles getting together and awkwardly kissing and having together their first intimacies: it would be a first for both of them, because I believe that while Charles may have fooled around a bit, he didn't ever actually make love to anyone, let alone a boy. So it would be all romantic and gentle and blushing virgins and it absolutely would be great.

BUT.

Both Edwin and Charles are on a journey to self discovery, in general but especially in the love and sexuality area, but they are at different stages of it. While Edwin has been repressed for over a century, he has been now awakened (by Charles, by Monty and above all by the Cat King) to feelings and sensations and wants that he now needs and IS READY to fulfil.

On the other hand, Charles isn't there yet, he just now learns that his best mate is in love with him and he feels nothing but love and adoration towards him but he fundamentally doesn't know what actual love (as in being in love with someone and being the one someone is in love with) looks and feels like, also they're both guys and while he has been nothing but supportive of Edwin about him coming to terms with his homosexuality, considering the time and especially the household in which he lived in, I don't think he wouldn't have problems realizing and admitting to himself that he is bisexual (I know it's not canon, but come on) or at least that he fancies another boy. And even when this happens, I think that he would have a lot of holding back, being insecure about his "ability" to love and not wanting to hurt Edwin.

That said, I think that Edwin has always loved and will always love only Charles, but it is only fair for him now to start having his experiences and exploring his sexuality and, while Edwin and Charles have been a whole for over 30 years, doing everything together, I believe this is something he has to do by himself and the best person with whom to do this is the Cat King because they're both attracted to each other, because the CK is very experienced and I think this would be someway reassuring for Edwin (like he's doing this, he's experimenting with someone who knows very well what he's doing), because the CK would never be judgemental of his inexperience, and above all because the CK cares about him, but also knows that no matter how much he can care about him and be affectionate towards him and even love him, he will never actually have him because Edwin's heart belongs to Charles since that night in the attic.

I expect (yes, I'm talking like this is actually happening because maybe I'm delusional but I've not given up hope yet about a second season) that while Edwin does this and experiments and learns things about a part of himself that has always been hidden and repressed, Charles someway does the same, of course not realizing that he wants to have sexual experiences because he is, if not actually experienced, more acquainted with this "area", but that he has to explore his sexuality to understand how he can fit loving Edwin into it and then actually act upon this, but to do this he also needs to find a way to separate himself from his father, from his painful childhood, and control his anger and navigate and accept his own emotions, all the shades of them, to start appreciating himself and considering himself worth of loving and being loved.

In conclusion, as I said before, they both are going through a journey, but while Edwin's at the end of his and is ready for what comes next, Charles has just now started it, so it's just right that just this once they don't do this together, because they KNOW that even if they take metaphorically different roads, they eventually will find each other at the finish line.

[marshes-of-bones]

I wasn't going to write a message here but I wanted just to be sure to warn people about my tags because it seems rude not to warn for Real Talk in public but like I want it to be at the top since I hadn't anticipated writing the notes.

UH I accidentally kinda wound up venting in the notes here about a real bummer of an event in my life because this comic brings it to my mind, because of both solidarity and disagreement with Saint's view here (But not in a bad way!)

Also yeah this is all inappropriate stuff to be dumping on someone's post and I'll delete it if OP asks me too absolutely no problem at all, but I dunno, I kinda had an exceedingly rare (I don't give details on this because that's super duper extra bummer stuff) thing happen that is applicable to sentiment in the comic, so I kinda hope my ramble has some degree of... Usefulness? Maybe? In some way? Probably not though, and sorry for making a big deal about it by commenting here and stuff but uuuhhhhhhhh yeah

One last thing to be sure because I usually word things awkwardly, I have been loving this series including this particular one, this one jut has Extra Feelings attached for me. And op I hope it's nice to know that your work has helped me a lot lately.

Hey Saint what do think about those who would rather stay in this world rather then leave it

scratch scratch

[canisalbus]

As a longtime (2015ish) follower of yours, its been fun watching you become... more tender? toward Machete. back in the day it was angst angst angst, and i loved it! but you cant know darkness without light and vice verse. Youve been a massive inspiration the whole time btw. Its nice to see not-anthro!Machete again too

.

[arl3kinka]

Hello :D do you have any p1 Dude headcanons?

hi hi.

oh boy, I thought I had a few, but after I sat down to write them just realized I might have a bit too much more than what I’ve expected, haha.

POSTAL 1 DUDE; headcanons

first of all! some headcanons make reference of how he was before the first game, so trying to apply them to the guy who’s terrified, sitting on the floor while hugging his gun would be pretty useless

also, if instead of a hyphen there’s a star it’s to address DID in Dude (I don’t have DID myself and I’m not close to somebody who has DID, all I know is from research I’ve done myself, so if there’s something wrong please tell me.

if you’re not into the DID idea just ignore the stars.

anyway, here we go:

✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

— Before what happened in 1997 I think he was still a disaster, but a bit more functional.

I’m not gonna dig a lot into how he was while growing up, but he’s an only child that comes from a christian yet dysfunctional family, so after he finally had enough saved money and the legal age he moved to another city (not Paradise) to start again and never looked back, probably with a bit of help coming from Uncle Dave, the only family member that cared about him.

★ P2’s been with him since he was a kid/pre-teen. P1 doesn’t really knows who or what P2 is and at first is pretty much afraid, thinking he’s a demon of some kind. But after a while and seeing how he stands up for him (when he’s unable to defend himself, make friends, etc) and he’s not really trying to harm him he relaxes for a bit.

— He’s always been pretty much a loner, but not to the point to isolate himself completely. He had a tiny group of friends who were also as “weird” as he was who were also into the alternative/goth subculture. Those were probably the best years of his life.

But still, following the last point, I also think he’s one of those people that when they feel bad they isolate themselves for some time and then come back like nothing happened. It usually worked, until it didn’t.

— I have no idea of where I readed I don’t know if it was the Wiki, TV Tropes, in a reddit comment or somewhere else but I think that during the development of “Postal” the Postal Dude was around 27 years old. I don’t know if it’s true, but I’ll go with that.

And, to add some more flavor, I don’t remember if it was Tumblr or Reddit, but somebody had the headcanon that the 14 of November, the day the first game begins, it’s also the Postal Dude’s birthday.

I can’t remember who had such a good idea but I love it way too much, I love angst with all my heart so now it’s my headcanon too.

(if I see the original headcanon again I’ll give credits to the person)

— [ tw // mentions of drugs ] Definitely smokes both cigarettes and weed, but the last one just from time to time. Has tried acid or mushrooms but rather stick to weed.

He hasn’t done crack or anything too heavy, not before 1997.

— He has little to no idea of how to cook. He can do some basic stuff to survive, and he has tried following a recipe in the past, but it’s definitely not his best . Not like he enjoys it either.

— His body: pretty tall. He has a bit of a complex with his height, finding clothes of his size can be complicated and it’s a bit awkward too.

His body is a bit built (he does some work out because of the idea that somebody can attack him at any moment is enough to make him try to learn some self defense alone in his room). Compared to P2 he's has more corporal mass, but not as much as P3 would have. He's an in between. Not skinny but not fat either.

He’s also pretty pale. Not because he can’t get tanned or anything, but because he would rather go out when the sun is already setting or during night or, in general, prefers to stay at his house.

In general he’s one of those people you see on the street and catch your attention: it’s not always that you see a really tall guy with long ginger hair.

— He doesn’t cut his hair because he likes how it looks on him but also because he’s too lazy (and anxious) to go to a hairdresser. He sometimes cuts it himself, and since he has no idea there have been times it ends up disastrous, but since I think his hair is a bit wavy it doesn’t look really bad.

He also doesn’t maintains it really well, he only uses shampoo and, maybe, one of those 3 in one bottles and that’s all. If it’s really cold he dries it with the hairdryer, but rarely does so.

— His handwriting is HORRIBLE. Not like if it’s like hieroglyphics, you can read it, but it’s just really ugly (the diary/war journal entries is how he writes, but since he was pretty stressed and scared it’s a bit more agitated). Also makes too much pressure, not to the point of ripping of the paper but you can feel it on the other face of the sheet surface if you brush it with your hand.

Likes to write for himself, it’s therapeutic and the best way to cope, the less harmful to himself too.

— Following the last point he also likes to make some doodles, especially when bored. Nothing too serious though, the typical thing you do when you’re in class bored and you only have a pen in hand and a paper. You’ll see plenty of them that decorate his notes and diaries. They’re a bit chaotic, his traces being a bit messy.

— If he was accepted in RWS he might have some knowledge about the videogame industry or related. Not sure of what, probably graduated in some studies about it. Maybe a programmer? I dunno.

— Definitely neurodivergent. Either autistic or ADHD. Or both.

His main interests being weapons, movies and videogames. Predilect genres? Terror and horror. He’s not much of a reader though.

On a side note, easily overwhelmed with people he’s not close with touching him (or in general, he’s not opposed to it but would rather if the other person asked for permission) and large crowds, and the main reason he wears he started wearing sunglasses it’s because sensitivity to bright lights.

Still, he’s undiagnosed so he has no clue why he’s like that and why can’t he be normal, sometimes thinking he’s a bit dramatic. His group of friends also had other neurodivergent people who he could rely on so he didn’t feel that bad after all.

— He hated going to clubs for that same reason, even the more alt ones. Too much noise and people. He probably went there because of his friends and enjoyed it for a little while, but would’ve rather been doing anything else.

★ P2 liked it more than him, so when they made plans with their friends he was the one who was in control most part of the time.

— He’s the kind of person that I think would listen to pretty much everything, but definitely his favorite genre is hard rock and metal and its sub-genres: goth metal, black metal, grunge, industrial, you name it. Maybe nu metal it’s not really his thing.

Still, he jams pretty much everything so you could catch him singing a Spicegirls song and he would deny it with his life.

★ It’s in fact P2 who prefers nu metal and wouldn’t care what he’s listening to. Would probably tease P1 about it though.

P2: “You’re listening to Madonna? I thought you didn’t liked pop”

P1: “...shut it”

p2: “Whatever you say edgelord… "LIKE A VIRGIN JUST, LIKE THE VERY FIRST TIME- ♪"”

— He’s bisexual, but still in the closet and pretty deep in there. He has done a few things with other guys but nothing too serious or further than making out probably. Partly because he has some internalized homophobia from the family he comes from (in himself! would never judge or care is one of his close ones was in the queer community) and because generally he sucks at dating.

★ Again, P2 is more open about it than him, and probably the one who had those interactions with other guys, but since P1 was not really uncomfortable with the subject he never went too far.

P2 tried to talk to him about it, but P1 just refuses.

— Also, how did I forgot to mention this? Religious trauma.

Now, he has a weird relationship with his christianity and beliefs, his morals, and how he views himself since he was teached to be a good christian, and he kinda wants to be good at the eyes of God, but at the same time he’s into too many stuff his parents told him they were satanic and bad. He has mixed emotions about it, it’s like he wants to let it go, but he’s unable to do so.

To him the cross he carries around his neck is not for the aesthetic, but he’s not because he’s a good christian either. And when he’s feeling at his worst? It’s like a dog collar, reminding him how all the trauma his family beliefs have harmed him, but at the same time he cannot let it go for some reason. It’s like an abusive relationship both with himself and with his religion, if he even believes in it. It’s complicated to understand? He’s just as confused as you are.

Maybe the problem it’s not the religion itself, maybe it was his family and now because of them he can’t really feel comfortable praying (even if he sometimes finds himself doing so on the nights of rough days) or having a normal relationship with his christianity. Whatever it is, he’s traumatized.

★ And P2 doesn't helps either. He just does not cares about it and when he sees P1 having a breakdown about it, knowing how hard the subject is for him, just prefers to not to get involved, because, anyways, what can he do to help him? He just does not know either, it’s something he has to resolve himself. He cannot help him in everything.

P1 sometimes has called P2 a demon during his attacks, and even if he just ignores it it’s true that it can get annoying after all the times he has tried to help him, and every time they had a fight about it P1 ended up worse, so P2 decided to not get involved any more time for that too.

— I think he’s both shy and introverted, but don’t misinterpret me; not shy in a cute bean who gets all nervous and blushy. No. More in the staring at the person like if he was a deer in front of the lights of a car type of shyness, trying not to get too nervous, and after a few seconds he responds to whatever that person said or asked, hoping it wasn’t too cringy or awkward. He usually gets like that when he’s interested in a person (doesn’t matter if it’s platonic or romantic) and doesn’t want them to get weirded out by him

More introverted than shy, that’s for sure.

— If he’s having a good day his neutral face just looks tired, in his worst I doubt anybody would be able to get to see him because in those days he locks himself in his house and refuses to go out, but if it’s the case (probably the clerk of a shop because he ran out of food) it’s a mix of anger and fear (mainly due paranoia and hallucinations, trying to put and angry face to make the others don’t bother him).

— He could be INFJ (Ni Fe Ti Se) or INTJ (Ni Te Fi Se). If that was the case I think it would be due to Se grip.

I could go more into details because I really enjoy MBTI and see how its functions work on fictional characters.

★ Not the same as P2 of course, but that's a story for another day.

— Pretty much stoic, but on the inside? A mess of emotions he does not know how to untangle correctly. He can get emotional when he’s alone, but that’s a part nobody would ever see of him. He’s not going to let anybody see him in such a vulnerable and weak state.

— Now, returning to the main point. I could really go into details of what or why I think it could have happened for him to literally go postal, but I think the main point is that he moved to Paradise trying to escape from his life. And you may ask “but you said those were the happiest years of his life!” yep, completely, but there can be a few things that alone could have been bad but tolerable, but too many of them make them unbearable: maybe he distanced himself from his friends, had to move somewhere cheaper because of money, his mental health going downhill, etc.

The thing is, he moved to Paradise, and it was probably his worst mistake.

Uncle Dave lived there, that’s why he chose that city, but even with that he had almost no contact with him besides the first few days? He was on his own, alone again.

— Ironically, I think he actually worked for a post office. It’s the only job he could find.

— Both his physical and mental state got way worse. He’s never been a really healthy person, but still tried to take care of himself at least a bit. Going out only when heavily necessary and, after a while, not even going to work anymore. That's when he really ran out of money and got the terrifying letter: he got evicted of his “safe place”. Was his house even a safe place at this point? He couldn’t feel safe anywhere anymore.

He could have called Uncle Dave, but at this point? He was just so disconnected with reality he didn’t know what to do.

★ P2 saw him fall and had no idea of what to do at this point. He was tired of trying to help him so he just ignored. P1 felt so bad that, even if he find P2 annoying at times it was the last thing he needed, the last familiar thing he had disappeared hurts him to the core.

— [ tw // mentions of self-harm ] Even if writing in his journal really helped him to calm down during bad days it doesn’t mean he didn’t do other more harmful things to himself when he was at his worst. Before moving to Paradise he handled it better, he was able to tone it down pretty much since he moved from his parent’s house, but after everything got so overwhelming again? He doesn’t know any better. And the worst part of it? Finds it both comforting and thinks that he deserves all this suffering. For everything. For moving away from his parents, maybe they were right after all. For being a bad christian, God, if he hasn’t done it already, would probably turn his back the day he has to pass Heaven's gates. For after being so happy and having friends and thinking he was getting better and how he throwed all out the windows. It’s all his fault, and he knows it, but he can’t bring himself to do anything, not even therapy, and cannot call his friends. Nothing. The world’s still going on without him. He just feels like when he was a kid, but worse.

★ And here’s where he appears: the Other Dude (to me not the same as P3). He’s shows him his most intrusive thoughts, those who make him feel sick. OD slowly persuaded him to do horrible things not to himself, but the others. He’s twisted and manipulated everything, every little hope he had. P1 confused P2 with OD at this point, and was the one who made P1 get out of his house after a really long time, but with a gun in his hand, ready to kill everybody who made him feel so miserable and worthless. At this point he’s just gone.

At first, ironically, P2 tried to get in the middle of it, a bit confused of what or who OD was. Why he was so similar to himself? How long has he been there? But even OD persuaded him at some point.

Both P1 and P2 were tired of the way they were living and feeling. So why not change it?

I’m not sure who’s the one who got out of the house ready to cause a massacre, if P1, P2 or OD, but the thing is they all agreed at some point.

— I know this is going to be a bit weird, but I don’t think the whole game stages are real? It sounds weird, but let me explain: you really think a guy who has been locked inside his house for so long, having horrible hallucinations, almost no sleep (and if he had any, probably full of nightmares), not taking care of himself is really going to go too far? It does not matter how many weapons he may carry, it’s practically impossible.

Maybe the first 2 or 3 stages, but not much more before the police/militars/whoever it was got him at some point. The others only happened in his head, his mind going ahead of him, overthinking, and lately, his guilt getting over him.

By this I’m not saying he’s less of a horrible person, he did what he did and it’s sickening, it does not matter how bad he was feeling, killing people who have nothing to do with you and your problems is not the answer. Even if they were the cause, it’s not the solution.

— Leaving aside that all the “Postal” games are usually a parodies of real life and black humor (asides from the first game and “Postal Redux”) and taking it for something more serious, I don’t think “Postal Dude” it’s the name of the Postal Dude.

It was a nickname given both by the survivors of the massacre and the media.

— Also, after what he did he was everywhere. In the newspapers, in the TV, in the radio. That’s how Uncle Dave and the group of friends he had back in the city he lived before found out. But how could he? He was such a nice, quiet guy… he wouldn’t hurt a fly!

His group of friends, who since he moved without saying anything, didn’t pick up their calls and in general ignored them and decided it was for the best to just let it be.

Uncle Dave, on the other side he was worried. What the hell happened during all those years they were separated? It couldn’t be something he decided overnight, there had to be something more, right?

— He got his hair shaved at the asylum. After that he didn’t had it that long in his whole life.

— He got locked in the asylum, and being locked in there, alone again with his thoughts, it was dead of him. Metaphorically speaking.

★ P1 went dormant, refusing to think of what he has done, or at least accepted to do. He couldn't take all that blame, it was impossible. Every time he remembers it he wants to puke. He now really want to be dead. There’s no way he can redeem himself from that, God definitely has abandoned him. OD also disappeared. He just provoked all of this and now what? He accomplished what he wanted, where is he? He bring out the worst part of P1, was he trying to corrupt him and breaking him was not in the plan or was the plan breaking him from the start?

Whatever it was left P2 alone, also feeling guilty of what he has done. He does not feel as bad as P1 but he also cannot feel happy as OD probably feels. What they’ve done it’s horrible, but how OD manipulated them to do it? Even worse. Even for P2 whose morality is more gray-ish than P1s.

He hates it, he’s locked in there with the hallucinations and barely speaks to P1 because he’s completely broken and refuses to do so. Now it’s the other way around. He’s growing resentful to him too for that, they’re both cupid, can he at least make him some company? Like he did when P1 was a child too? It’s unfair.

He has something clear though: if OD ever shows his ass again he will NOT let get on him like he did. And even if he’s annoyed at P1, not even him.

— After some time Uncle Dave brings himself to visit him. At first it was so grim. Dude felt so horrible for his actions he couldn’t bring himself to even look at him, but after some more visits, therapy and meds he started to light up a really tiny bit. It was something.

★ It was not really him, P1 was pretty much not wanting to know anything from the external world, it was P2 who decided to take the lead. P1 didn’t wanted to live anymore? Fine, he would take his chance then. To live the life he never could since he’s always been on P1 mind, rarely being the one in control.

Maybe he was pretending, or maybe he genuinely wanted to get better, but the thing was: he wanted to get out of there, if there was a chance to do so, he would try it. At first do what the workers said, and if that didn’t work he would escape. He does not care. He wants to try to live.

✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

okay I got a bit too carried away- I’m sorry-

hope you liked them! I’m not really skilled nor do I have practice when it comes to creating headcanons about characters even if I have a few ideas.

I’m thinking about posting a few more in a future,, but school work is killing me-

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <33

[fruitsofhell]

GK and DMK is one of those ships I don’t seek out a lot because a lot of characterization I see of DMK is... rather shallow? Not trying to police writers, but it’s kinda unappealing to write him as being Meta’s opposite and therefore just an annoying horrible person, when he could be much better used as a reflection of Meta to explore sides of his character y’know?

And because of the way I write him in my headcanon to explore Meta’s character he represents a really hyperspecific side of him, which is how messed up he was post Revenge of MK when he had his lil’ wildstreak and fought GK. Which makes him rather dysfunctional and un-romancable as a person, but actually does make that aforementioned relationship kinda interesting with my headcanon, it’s just that they can’t possibly interact lmao.

BUT, I have kinda already thought about the dynamic of that relationship, just in an au with Meta. Cause I explained in one post what that fight between GK and MK meant to Meta - about him facing the sort of monster he was letting himself become - but the idea is like, well what if he just submitted to that? If he just let that bitterness and resentment towards Dreamland consume him and found solace in the man from the myth he once saw as a boogeyman and now sees as a fellow outcast?

I guess that would be the dynamic my GK and DMK, and especially thinking about how DMK also got his ass sealed away in a little prismatic prison, they have even more reasons to relate to eachother lol. So now that’s something I actually want to explore, and I kinda hope there are other people who write that but like idk.

The other thing though is that I really REALLY don’t think this relationship is healthy, it’s literally built on the two’s bitterness and specifically on MK/DMK having a massive morality complex. And in general I feel like fandom shipping as a culture likes to lack nuance in stuff like this, so I might have to be the change I want see in the world (not actually adding anything just sitting and thinking about this in my head).

[rrover]

if they do make another game with botw/totk link and zelda (or just in the same art style as botw/totk) then i hope it takes place entirely outside of hyrule that poor continent has been wrecked enough

[chiarrara]

I feel like people spent too much time away from the canon of good omens season one and got stuck in the characterizations the fandom created during its absence between season one and season two, and don’t know how to pivot back to canon or compartmentalize that fanfiction from the canon being presented to them and what they Want to see. I could already see it in the explosion of fanworks from season one, I almost immediately tired of it and had no excitement for the second season

I feel like, yes but also s2 leans very heavily into fanon. like it draws almost all its plot points from fanwork and fan interpretation, so it's kind of facilitating that. I think the characterization shifted to some extent in this direction as well. I don't think it was a large shift, but I think this is *part* of what's causing the two camps of "aziraphale was acting out of character" and "aziraphale was completely in character" in ep 6. Because for the message and arc of the story in s1 (and the characterization in the book) it doesn't make sense that he would make that decision. But, if you're only looking at s2 you can find a lot of supporting evidence in the storytelling choices and characterization for why he did make that choice.

So yeah, I think people are on fanfic/fanon brain in the way they're interpreting and talking about the show right now, but also i pretty much see season 2 as a fanfic of s1 (and a bridge to s3, i guess, but that seems a little cheap tbh)

[kingdomoftyto]

I never did mention, but I finally beat Vesperia! It was okay--a more than solid rpg, but not one of my personal faves from the series. The plot was pretty standard for a Tales game--maybe slightly more deus ex machina-y in the final act, though I may just be forgetting the most egregious things from some of the other titles. Rita stands out as my single favorite character (to no one's surprise) and honestly probably one of my faves overall for the series. Judith was also pretty fun, and I liked Raven's story arc even if it felt a little clumsy or confusing at times. And obviously the Yuri-Flynn dynamic/relationship/tension pretty much carries the entire game.

Speaking of which, I've already devoured a week's worth of Fluri fanfiction (impeccable ship portmanteau, btw) and have a whole stack of longfics still waiting in my Marked for Laters. They're so stupid and noble and good for each other, I love them a lot. I'll have to rec some of these later if I think about it.

(I also found out yesterday that there's a heckign FEATURE-LENGTH MOVIE about the two of them as knights-in-training, which!!!!!!!! guess what I'm watching tonight)

Anyway. Glad I finally played it! Not sure it quite lived up to my expectations, but then again I think Arise simply raised my standards to an absurd level lol, so it's not entirely Vesperia's fault. It also would've helped if I'd been any good at using Yuri in combat, but alas,

[selfindulgentfandomstuff]

I do think kissing (not necessarily romantic all the time) is great and ppl should do it with whomever they feel comfortable (lovers, friends, qpp’s)

That being said, I personally cannot see myself kissing anyone really, MAYBE like on the lips but certainly nothing with tongue LOL

Idk it just is a liiiittle bit unsanitary for my taste! Like i really am honestly not trying to exchange mouth germs with someone else. Just bc we love each other doesn’t mean we have to share our oral micro biomes😭

This is SO NOT a dig against ppl who enjoy kissing- more power to you/gen but I just wish it was also a little more normalized to NOT kiss your romantic partner! Like I should not be expected to express physical affection in a manner that is uncomfortable to me! No one should!

Idk nothing happened to make me post this I’m just thinking! :)

[waywardsalt]

i love having post ph ideas and no idea where on the timeline they go

[wandaslittlebird]

That’s What Mama’s Do

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader

An early Christmas gift from Wanda encourages you to indulge your curiosities, and Wanda learns she can be a bit rougher with you than she originally thought.

CW: Stepmother/Stepdaughter, guilt, sexual exploration, flashbacks, anal (R receiving), spitting, strap ons (R receiving), spanking, inexperienced reader, mentions of videos taken during sex, dirty talk

Word Count: ~4.7k

A/N: It’s back and I’m so excited! I’ve extended this series to be at least 6 parts now, so get pumped everyone. I just kept having more and more ideas.

A/N: So definitely not 48 hours but like kinda close?? I was struggling with this part and I still think it might have worked better as a drabble, but I think it works anyway. This part isn’t nearly as Freudian, but there’s more of that to come in future parts! I hope you all still enjoy!

Thank you @marvelwomenarehot0 for reading this like 5 times and reassuring me I’m FINE

Part 3 of Her Special Girl

The days were filled with peppermint hot chocolate, soft blankets, Christmas movies by the fireplace, and lots and lots of cuddles. You and Wanda were practically velcroed to one another, completely inseparable. The two of you preferred to stay mostly at the house together, seeing as you couldn’t be nearly as affectionate when there were other people around in public.

What had started as an unpleasant fluke in your Christmas break, had turned out to be the best Christmas present you could ever ask for.

One this particular afternoon, you and Wanda were dancing together to Christmas music in the living room. She had you pulled close to her chest, gently swaying you back and forth to the jovial holiday music. But louder than both the music and her heartbeat, one thought came blaring through your mind.

How could you ever leave this? How could you leave her, alone? How could you ever be so selfish?

You leaned back so you could see her face. “Mama?” You interjected. Your eyes searched her’s, looking for a way to ease the guilt in your heart.

“Yes, little love?” She smiled down at you with a heart full of love and admiration. If she was holding resentment against you for leaving, she was doing a very good job of hiding it.

You swallowed nervously. “Could I give you one of your Christmas presents?” You asked. You hoped experiencing her joy upon receiving your gift would quell the aching guilt. “I have more to give you on Christmas. I just wanted to give you a special one while it’s still just the two of us.”

Her smile widened. “Of course, sweet girl. How about we do a special little gift exchange with just us. You know how hectic it gets on Christmas Day.” She bent forward and whispered into your ear. “Plus, I have a present for you that no one else is allowed to see.”

Your heartbeat quickened. She chuckled as she watched a blush rise to your cheeks. She smirked, drawing a medium sized box out from behind the tree. You followed suit, picking out a small box placed carefully on top of the pile of presents. You’d taken extra special care to wrap it nicely for her. You’d been excited about giving her this gift for a while now.

“You first,” you insisted, setting her gift down on the couch after she handed it to you.

You handed her the box, chewing your lip nervously. She unwrapped it meticulously, slowly pulling away the tape without ripping the paper.

Inside was a rectangular jewelry box, off white with a golden W.M. pressed into the center. She opened the lid and gasped as she revealed a gold chain necklace with three stones pressed into the center. The biggest one, in the middle was your birthstone, and on either size shone two aquamarines, the twins’ birthstone.

“Honey this is beautiful,” she said, pulling the necklace from the box. “But this must’ve cost you a fortune.”

You shook your head. “Not a fortune. I promise it wasn’t exorbitant. The gold was a gift from dad from a couple years ago, but…”

“You only wear silver,” Wanda finished for you. She chuckled at the general cluelessness of her husband, thinking he could just buy the most expensive thing on the shelf and you’d love it.

You nodded, smiling a little at the thought that Wanda remembered such a detail. You gently took the necklace from Wanda’s hands, clipping it around the back of her neck while she held up her hair.

“It’s perfect, darling,” she said, putting her hand affectionately over the stones. “Thank you, so much.” It sat perfectly on her neck, level with her collarbones. It looked beautiful on her.

You picked up your own present from where you’d set it on the couch. It was a bigger box than the one you’d given her, but it was light. You didn’t take the same care as she did with the wrapping paper, simply picking a corner and tearing off the paper. You unwrapped and opened the box to reveal a harness. It was very similar to the one you already had, except, instead of one O-ring at the base, there were two.

You tilted your head in confusion, examining the object. Wanda watched you nervously, slightly afraid the gift was unwanted.

She chewed the inside of her cheek. “Do you know what it is?”

“It’s a harness,” you answered. “But it has two rings for two…” the realization dawned on you as you spoke the words allowed. You stood in shock for a moment.

Wanda’s heart sank, thinking she’d gone too far. “It… it’s okay if you don’t wanna use it. There’s no pressure to try anything, of course. I just thought… you used to really enjoy…” she rambled.

You cut her off, still too caught up in your own thoughts to be paying attention to her nervous rambling. “Can we use it now?” You blurted out, excitedly.

She smiled. “Of course, little love. I thought you might like it. I remember you being rather fond of… playing like this.”

—————

You were standing in the doorframe of her home office, anxiously playing with your own fingers.

Wanda had been furiously typing away at her desk. The sound of keys clacking filled the silent room. Her face was focused, emotionlessly concentrated on the task in front of her.

You stood there awkwardly, trying to build up the courage to ask her your question. You certainly didn’t want to interrupt. You didn’t even like to interrupt her work when you weren’t about to ask embarrassing questions.

She was never upset with you, for interrupting her work. “Nothing that comes across my desk is more important to me than even your silliest queries,” she had told you. “Anytime I get to be talking to you, my work day has improved tenfold.”

Still, you stood in the doorway a little longer, hoping she would manage to notice you first.

After a few grueling minutes of going unnoticed, you finally decided to speak up.

“Mama?” You asked quietly.

Her face of pure concentration broke out into a wide smile. “Yes, my little love?” She responded, beckoning you into the room.

You exhaled in relief. She wasn’t upset with you for interrupting, at least. Now it was just a matter of trying to ask the question that brought you here in the first place. “I-I have a question,” you announced anxiously, cautiously approaching her desk.

“Ask away,” she instructed, leaning back in her car and swiveling it to face you. You had her full attention.

You looked down at the hardwood floor, unable to meet her gaze. Maybe this would actually be easier if she was still focused on work and you were simply in the background. “I… it’s embarrassing.”

Her face tilted, morphing into one of soft sympathy. “It’s okay, sweetheart. There’s no need to be embarrassed. It’s just you and mama here. You can tell me anything.” She reached her arms out, beckoning you closer so she could gently pull you into her lap. She sat you down and wrapped her arms around your waist, kissing you on the temple.

If she were anyone else, you wouldn't dream of asking her what you were about to ask. You lived in a world where questions, especially ones that may be considered taboo, were discouraged. Your curiosities had always been diminished and shut down, even since you were a child. And yet, Wanda was different. “You’re still growing up and learning about the world,” she’d once said. “It’s an honor to get to teach you about all the things you want to know. That’s what mama’s do, after all.”

You steeled yourself. “I… um… do you know how sometimes when we… play together you put toys inside of me and it feels really good?” You asked, trying to frame your question.

“Mhm,” she hummed affirmatively, trying to hide her growing excitement. She loved how flustered and embarrassed you got when you asked her questions about sex. It was almost as arousing as the “hands on” learning experiences themselves.

“I was wondering if… maybe you’d ever had toys in… the other hole,” you asked, looking down at your lap.

“Mmm,” she hummed again. She almost couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Were you really asking her what she thought you were asking her? God, you were more perfect that’s she could’ve imagined.

She kept calm, trying to contain her excitement. “I have. Mama doesn’t like to have things in her ass so much, but,” Her tone dropped lower and more sultry. She leaned over so close you could feel her breath on your ear. “I would love nothing more than if you’d let me play with yours.”

“R-really?” You stuttered. “You don’t think it’s… gross?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “No, sweetheart,” she assured. “It’s just another part of your body, little love. I don’t think any part of you is gross.”

“O-okay,” you said, leaning your head on her shoulder.

She pulled you tighter into her side, squeezing you in her arms and kissing your head repeatedly. “I love you so much,” she praised. “I’m so proud of you for being such a brave girl, and asking mama all your curious little questions about your body.”

“I love you too, mama,” you responded. You curled up in her lap, burying your red face in her neck.

“How about I forward all my calls to Natasha for this afternoon, and mama can show you all her toys and we can pick out some for you to experiment with, huh?” She whispered into your ear, voiced laced with excitement and seduction.

Your eyes went wide, and you nodded. It wasn’t the first time Wanda had dropped everything to fuck you, but you were shocked that seemed to be equally as excited about this as you were.

She led you to her closet, letting you peruse her collection. For someone who didn’t like to use them, she had a lot of butt plugs. She explained in depth their uses, the sensations of the different shapes and materials, and helped you make an educated choice of which one you’d like best. In the end, you both decided to start with a small metal plug, as well as a smallish strap. When you asked if she’d be pegging you with it, she chuckled.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that quite yet, little love,” she explained. “We’ll just use the strap like normal, but you’ll have the plug in this time. Does that sound good?”

You nodded. You were a little confused as to why she chose such a small strap if it wasn’t going in your ass anyway, but you trusted her judgment.

“One more thing,” she said, grabbing your favorite toy, the wand, before turning off the lights and leaving the closet. As always she took you to your own room rather than leading you back to her own. You both preferred to keep the sex out of the bed that her and your father shared.

She had you lean over the edge of your bed while she plugged the wand into the outlet. She handed it to you. “Alright love, I want you to make yourself feel good, okay? Can you do that for mama? Can you touch yourself while mama plays with your ass?”

“Mhm,” you hummed affirmatively, taking the wand between your legs and turning it on. You immediately shivered at the sensation.

She ran her nails softly up your back. “That’s it, good girl. Now just relax for mama.”

Her fingers moved down to circle your exposed asshole, watching the muscle tense in anticipation. You jumped at the unprecedented feeling.

“Shshsh,” she cooed. “Relax baby. You’re okay. Mama’s gonna take care of you. I’m just going to put a little lube on you, okay? It’s gonna be a little cold.”

You shivered again as you felt the cool liquid run down your untouched ass. She pressed her finger against your hole, gathering the liquid there before slowly starting to push into you. To her surprise, her first finger slid in rather easily.

You groaned at the sensation, muffled by the mattress. “Are you sure you’ve never had anything in here?” Wanda asked, suspicious but not judgmental. “It’s okay if you have, baby. You can tell mama. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

You whined into the mattress. “I-I… in the shower sometimes, I… explore a little bit.”

Wanda smiled, chuckling affectionately as she rubbed your back, slowly moving her finger in and out of your tight hole. “That’s okay, honey. You’re always allowed to explore your own body. Do you just play with your fingers? How many have you had?”

You nodded. “Just my fingers. And only ever one. I-I tried to do two, but… I couldn’t.”

She nodded, circling her finger around inside of you to get you comfortable. “Mama’s gonna try to add another finger now. Is that okay?”

You nodded. “Is… is it gonna hurt?”

She shook her head. “No baby, it shouldn’t hurt. If it hurts just tell mama and we’ll stop, okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

“Good girl. Now, just try your best to relax. Take a few deep breaths.” You felt a second finger at your entrance, slowly pushing past your muscles. You squirmed, at the uncomfortable sensation, but Wanda’s hand on your lower back kept you still.

“Good girl,” she praised as her two fingers fully pushed into you. “That’s a big stretch isn’t it?”

You whined. It didn’t hurt, per se, but there was an intense, unfamiliar pressure. You turned up the setting on the vibrator between your legs, keeping the discomfort at bay.

She spread her fingers out inside of you, stretching the muscles further. You moaned, the discomfort morphing into something more pleasant. The pleasure, oddly, didn’t override the discomfort, but rather existed beside it. “Mama…” you moaned, starting to slowly buck your hips back into her hand. “Feels… funny.”

“I bet it does feel funny, doesn’t it?” She said. “Do you like it? You wanna switch over to mama’s plug?” Typically, she would’ve insisted on taking things a bit slower, but, likely due to your own ‘self-exploration’, you were handling it a lot better than she’d expected.

You nodded. “Yes please.”

She slowly pulled her fingers out, watching your muscles tighten back up and close. She fantasized, for a moment, about opening you back up so she could spit inside of you, watching your muscles close as little bits of her saliva leaked out. But she’d save that thought for later. You were far from ready for that.

She took the metal plug and poured a bit more lube onto the end. The plug was a bit bigger than both of her fingers, but not terribly so. She pushed the cool metal against your asshole.

You jumped and whined at the sensation. She shushed you, putting a firm hand on your lower back to keep you in place. “Just relax honey, just like before. Keep playing with yourself.”

You did as instructed, taking a deep breath and focusing on the sensation in your clit. On your exhale, she started to push the plug in. She carefully pushed through the resistance forcing the plug into place.

“Mama!” You cried out. A range of sensation shot through your body all at once. Pain, pleasure, discomfort, pressure all came to a head in a sudden orgasm you hadn’t expected.

Wanda eyes went wide, seemingly taken as off guard as you were. She smiled and rubbed your back affectionately. “Aww,” she cooed, “did my sweet girl just cum just from mama’s plug in her ass. It’s okay, baby. You’re doing so good.”

“I’m sorry, mama,” you apologized. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as sensations overwhelmed you. Unlike your usual orgasms, this one only made you hungrier for more. You turned up the setting on the wand again.

“It’s quite alright, darling,” she assured. “Do you still want mama to fuck you while you have the plug in? It might feel a little different than it ever has before.”

You nodded eagerly. “Please mama!”

“Okay, sweetheart,” she chuckled affectionately, surprised and amused by your eagerness. She lined herself up with your pussy, pulling your hips back to meet her own.

You cried out, suddenly acutely aware of why she’d chosen such a small strap. With the plug in your ass, your pussy felt so much fuller than you would’ve expected. Your hands shot out in front of you, gripping the bed sheets for dear life.

Wanda made her first few strokes slow, watching as the base of the plug shifted with her movements.

“Mama!” You cried again. “Feels so… so full mama. Please!”

“Does it feel good baby?” She asked, rocking into faster. “Do you like having mama in both your holes? Do you like it when she fucks you with a pretty plug in your ass?”

“Yes mama!” You breathed. “It hurts, just a little, but it feels so good mama.”

“Aww does it make your ass feel too full baby?” She cooed. “That’s okay, honey. You can cry while mama fills your holes. That’s it. Cry for mama baby.”

In an almost Pavlovian response, you started to cry. The pain was bearable, even surprisingly pleasant, but Wanda’s command allowed your body permission to let the tears flow. You were glad your admission of pain didn’t seem to deter her, even when it was paired with tears. In fact, the sound of your cries only seemed to spur her on further, nearly pulling out of you and pounding back into you with every stroke.

“Mama I’m gonna cum again,” you sobbed.

Wanda ignored you, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm. You came harder this time, having to turn off the wand between your legs to keep yourself from overstimulating.

You tried to squirm away from Wanda, but she grabbed your hips harder and kept you in place. “No baby. Keep crying for mama. Keep making those pretty noises. I’m so close.”

You felt her hips start to falter before she pushed herself as deep into you as possible. She groaned, near collapsing on top of you before catching herself on the bed.

“That was so perfect, angel,” she soothed, pulling out of you while she gently ran her fingers through your hair. You whined at the sensation, lying limp on the bed. “Let’s get you all cleaned up and in some jammies, and then you can sit under mama’s desk while she finishes working. Does that sound good, little love?”

You nodded, groaning as she pulled out the plug and set it on the nightstand to be cleaned. Your head spun. All you could think of was your mama. You were so lucky to have someone who cared for you so deeply. You were so thankful you had her to guide you, to indulge all your curiosities. “Thank you, mama,” you mumbled tiredly.

“For what, sweetheart?” She asked, playing with your hair and looking down at your blissful face.

“For being here to teach me new things,” you tried to explain. Your head was so floaty you couldn’t get your words quite right. “And… and trying new things with me. And not thinking I’m gross or weird when I get curious about… certain things.”

“Of course, angel,” she said, kissing the top of your head. “That’s what mama’s do.”

—————

Wanda stood next to the bed, this time in her own room: the room she shared with your father. With him gone all week, her previous rules about keeping sex with you out of their shared space had gone as well. Unlike when you were young, it didn’t bother you much anymore. After all, you hadn’t seen him in years. In many ways, he wasn’t so real to you anymore.

So you held no discomfort about your current position, naked on your hands and knees in the middle of their bed.

Wanda was almost equally as naked, wearing nothing but the harness and the necklace you’d just given her. She was working on preparing and securing the toys you two had picked out in the appropriate O-rings. It she wasn’t so goddamn beautiful and you weren’t so goddamn turned on, she might have looked ridiculous.

But you suppose that was part of the gig with sex in general. It’s a little ridiculous, and, actually, mostly rather unsexy. But something about love and arousal morphs your perspective just enough to change everything: to make it a magical experience.

You’d chosen a smaller, blue dildo on the top. It was only about 6 inches long and less than an inch in diameter. On the bottom, you chose the first strap she’d ever fucked you with. It seemed fitting that the first time she’d use the strap on you in three years, she’d use the same one she’d used for your first time ever.

You felt the bed dip and she crawled onto the mattress behind you. She ran her nails down your back. “You are so beautiful, you know that?” She asked in a low sultry tone. She ran a finger up your slit. You’d been practically dripping since you’d opened her gift.

You shivered at her touch, instinctively buckling your hips back against her hand. “Please mama,” you whined. You were already so needy for her.

She wanted to hold out for a little longer, circle you while she toyed with your perfectly displayed body. But one look at your ass had her impatient. She needed to be inside of you, urgently. She lined the bottom toy up with your pussy, slowly pushing into. You were all too inviting, practically swallowing her. She was met with little resistance even in the first couple strokes. Then she pressed the top toy into your ass.

Instinctively, you tensed. “Shh, baby. It’s okay. Relax for mama. I’ve got you.” She rubbed gently at your lower back.

You relax, allowing her to push the toy into you. You whined as she pushed past the initial ring of muscles.

“Mama’s got you,” she reassured. “I’ll go nice and slow.”

The overwhelming full sensation immediately made your arms collapse, pushing you face down into the mattress. It was so much different than having her fuck you while you wore a plug. Rather than a static thing shifting inside of you, there were two things, moving simultaneously in rhythm with one another.

The stretch was overwhelming. You could feel both of the toys from both holes as they each pushed you open. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth fell open. She’d hardly been in you for a minute and you were already losing your mind. “Mama… mama please,” you pleaded.

She leaned over to wipe the hair from your face. “What is it baby? Tell mama what you need,” she said, concerned. It had been a while since she’d fuck you. Maybe this was too much for your first time back. “Do you need mama to stop? I can take the blue one off and we can just use the pink toy,” she suggested anxiously.

You gripped the sheets under your hands, jaw slack and mouth opened. Once again, her anxious rambling fell on deaf ears as your mind was consumed with pleasure. “Faster,” you said unexpectedly. “Please, mama, go faster.”

Her eyes went wide at the unexpected request, but she hesitantly started to build to a moderate pace. She gripped your hips, pulling them to meet hers with each thrust.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” she praised. The sound of your skin hitting hers alone was driving Wanda crazy. She took a few deep breaths, willing herself to calm down. But when your weak little voice cried out from underneath her, she lost all semblance of control.

“Mama, please, harder.”

She tilted her head, giving herself a moment to process what you were saying.

She remembered you at 18, meek and trembling under her. She recalled the way you stuttered when you asked her even the simplest questions about sex. You were so ashamed and afraid to ask anything of her back then. It would’ve taken you weeks to muster even a simple request.

And here you were, years later, underneath her once again, shamelessly begging for her to fuck you harder. She couldn’t be more proud.

She slammed her hips into yours, gripping you hard enough to leave marks. “Did you miss mama fucking you like this? Did you miss her toys filling you up until you couldn’t think anymore?”

You nodded. “Yes mama!”

“You’re taking me so well, little love,” she praised. Her eyes darkened as she watched the strap disappear into you again and again. She was fixated with the sight. “Mama’s gonna have to get the camera out so you can see what a little angel you look like from up here, taking my straps all the way to the hilt. Would you like that baby? Would you like to watch yourself get fucked by mama?”

You nodded. “Mhm,” you hummed, biting your bottom lip. Her words took you slightly off guard, but that didn’t stop them from further turning you on. It seemed your boldness was rubbing off on Wanda.

“Mama could record you a little video and then you could watch it while you touch yourself later, huh? See what a good little girl you are for me.”

You moaned, nearly screaming into the wadded up sheets. “M-mama…” you stammered. The way she spoke, telling you her fantasies so unabashedly, made your head spin. You supposed this was as good a time as any to bring a fantasy of your own into fruition. “S-spank me. Please. Spank my ass.”

Wanda’s eyes darkened with lust at the request. She placed a cautious spank on your right ass cheek. It wasn’t hard enough to actually hurt. It was more just for the sensation.

“Harder,” you requested timidly. “Please, h-hurt me.”

Wanda slapped your other side, harder this time. You cried out, involuntarily clenching around the toys. She spanked you again and again, becoming obsessed with the sensation of you tightening around her. “You like it when mama hurts you?” She asked. Her voice was deeper than usual.

You nodded. You sniffled back tears, desperate not to cry. You were so afraid she’d stop or ease up, thinking she’d hurt you.

“Are you gonna cry for mama?” She asked, picking up on your stifled sniffling. “Go on and cry for me, love. You know mama loves to watch you cry.”

The floodgates opened as you started to sob underneath her, nearly shaking. “Feels so good, mama. I love being stretched with your toys. I love when you hurt me. I love you. I love you.”

Wanda smiled. God you were a vision, crying and trembling underneath her, and asking her to hurt you while you told her you loved her. “I love you too, darling. Fuck. I love you so much.”

“Please make me cum, mama. Please let me cum with you inside me,” you cried.

“You can cum whenever you want, baby. Go ahead and play with yourself for me. Mama’s got you. I wanna watch you cum on my toys, honey. Show mama how much you love her present.”

You reached your hand back and played with your own clit. She started to spank you again. “Mama!” You shrieked as you fell apart under her. She continued to fuck you and spank you, grabbing your hands at the wrist when you moved to push her away.

“Shshsh, angel,” she soothed gently. “I’m just making sure I get it all out of you, baby. Just let mama take care of it, honey.” She took both of your hands, positioning them on either side of your ass. “Be a good girl and hold yourself open for mama, okay?”

She pulled out of you, leaning over to spit in your open asshole. She watched in awe as the muscle closed back up, leaving her spit inside of you. She’d waited years to see this. Had she had a bit of foresight, she would have brought a plug she could stuff you with after, making sure it stayed inside. Oh well. There was always next time.

She moved your hands away, spanking your ass one more time for good measure. You groaned.

She grabbed a cloth off the side table, carefully wiping your clean. You squirmed under her gentle touch, but she held you in place before gently laying you on your side.

Much to your chagrin, she climbed off the bed. “Mama…” you called after her, reaching out for her.

“It’s alright baby, I’m just gonna take this off and then I’ll get all cozy with you in there okay? Wait just a second for mama.”

You pouted for the whole ten seconds it took her to get the harness off. She crawled into bed next to you, pulling you under the blankets with her. You curled into her side while she gently played with your hair.

“You’ve never asked me to spank you before, little love. What was that about?” She asked kindly and nonjudgmentally.

You shrugged. “I don’t know,” you replied hazily. “I was always too embarrassed to ask before, but… I’m not so scared anymore.”

She smiled and kissed your head. “I’m glad you asked,” she admitted. “I enjoyed it. And I’m so very proud of you for being so brave. You made mama braver too, you know.”

You cuddled into her closer, looking up at her from her chest. Your eyes begged a silent question.

She giggled. “Ah, I thought we were asking for what we want now? Now you’re getting all shy on me again?”

You whined. Asking for things was hard, and you thought you’d done quite enough for one day.

She chuckled at your stubbornness. “Do you wanna suckle for mama? You earned it little love, being so brave and asking mama for what you want. Go ahead sweet girl.”

“Thank you, mama,” you say before taking her nipple into your mouth.

“Of course, baby,” she whispered, kissing your head. “That’s what mama’s do.”

Taglist: @wandanatsgirl @jordy-12 @snowy12 @wandamaximoffsbadgirl @wandaslovey @alicentsbunny @theloveweholdtohigh @inarayofmoonlight @boredandneedfanfics @hikyiwid @mrskatemaximoff @redheadsinmybed @wandaslamb @marigoldenblooms @emiliaisdead @lizziefor @virginiatcm @kittercandy

[wolviensabes]

Manhandle.

RQ: 'hello! i saw you mentioned in your wolverine alphabet post that logan loves his partners chubby… i was hoping you could write something nsfw with a fat & fem reader… maybe some body praise and stuff like that. that would be so good 😭😭😭 i love your fics so much💚💚💚' - @olivebebita

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+ || Kinda feral Logan bc he's obsessed w/ you...pure porn no plot, some manhandling, soft dom!Logan, PiV unprotected sex, swearing, light degrading, dirty talk, cunnilingus, aftercare

A/N: I will die on the hill that Logan loves his partners chubby. Idc. I didn't have the patience to edit this ignore mistakes pleaseee. WC: 2.4k

Logan cannot stand you for one reason and one reason alone: You drive him crazy.

Why the fuck are you so soft? Why do your hips sway so much? Why are you so doe eyed and sweet smelling?

His cock twitches in his pants as he sees you talking to another mutant. Fuck. He doesn't like it. He wants you for himself. He needs you for himself.

That's exactly what he does.

He grabs you and tugs you along, you of course go with him, being so sweet and naïve...when you're alone, he practically rips your clothes off. He normally would tease and play with you more, but he can't help himself. He's too eager, his patience is diminished.

Your soft gasp when he tore the fabric from your body made his balls grow heavy and a low growl rumble out of him. You were beautiful to him, your body drove him crazy. He felt hotter than normal, like he was going to die if he didn't have you. You made the most pathetic sound when his hand pushed between your legs and felt your soft folds, his calloused fingertips finding that sweet little pearl. "Fuckin' wet for me...from rippin' y'r clothes off, huh? You like it like this? Bein' manhandled?"

You felt your face heat up and your legs trembled, threatening to give out at any second. You stammered, unable to come up with a solid reply as you pathetically tried while his thick fingers explored your folds confidently. They prodded your entrance, making you tense a bit.

"Y'r tight, my damn finger has a hard time gettin' in here...how are you gonna handle my cock, princess?" he grabbed your face with his free hand, tilting your head up as he kissed you. His lips were warm, the taste of cigar and whiskey on them, a hint of salt and jerky. You melted into his kiss, even though he was claiming you this way. His tongue pushed into your mouth, invading you and exploring every inch as if he owned you. His teeth gently bit your bottom lip, he didn't want to overwhelm you too much, not yet anyway.

"That's it...whimperin' for me...you love this, I can tell by how wet you are. Can't imagine my cock in there...it's so tiny...have you ever been fucked before?" he grunts deeply in your ear, the sound making your entire body react as you shake. Your nipples erect and feeling stimulated by the fabric of his shirt as he stands close enough to rub against you.

"Logan...I...mmn, I have I just...-"

"You've never been with me baby, I'll show ya what a real man can do. I know when y'r fakin' too, you won't have to do that with me." He chuckled, his hand moving away from your dripping core and he grabbed your plush hips, lifting you up. "Goddamn...these things..." He threw you onto his bed, his hand on your belly for a moment, kneading you.

"Logan-!"

"I gotcha...just let me take care of you..." Logan's voice was gentle, but he sounded slightly condescending as he spoke to you, the clear teasing undertone made you whimper in response. His hands pawed at you like a man who had seen a naked woman for the first time, on your breasts, sides, hips. Hs grabbed your thighs, eagerly holding onto your flesh and spreading your legs apart for him. "Such a fat cunt you have, looks comfy, you'll treat my dick well won't you, sweet thing? Perfect little home for it...that's where it belongs isn't it? You're lost without my dick in you."

You squirmed below him, feeling vulnerable and exposed as he held you down. You couldn't deny how hot your pussy felt, you wanted to demand for him to stick it in, to just fuck you into the mattress, but you also didn't want to admit it, playing the game a bit. Besides, Logan was clearly enjoying how you were acting, so you kept it up.

"Ah...please..." You begged lightly, your legs falling limp and allowing him to open them wider. You felt so horny by now, Logan had a way of bringing it out of you. Your core felt like it was on fire, and you needed his touch more than air.

He placed open mouth kisses on your inner thighs, his teeth grazing the thin skin and biting your flesh teasingly. You could feel the slick, warm muscle of his tongue barely touch your sensitive skin as he continued to knowingly tease you. After his painfully slow movements, he finally got to your center, his pupils blown like he was on drugs.

Logan growled deeply, exhaling through slightly parted lips as his hands came around and held your thighs tightly. His head lowered, nose nudged your clit as this man took a deep inhale of your sex. Your face heated immediately, suddenly feeling embarrassed he was smelling you so intensely. His nose buried, your wetness covering it as he investigated further into you until he was satisfied memorizing your scent.

When he pulled up, he barely pulled away for you to say something about his little display and his lips latched onto your clit, knowing exactly where it was after mapping out your cunt mentally. He was torn between making you squirm and beg, or just taking what he wanted. You were intoxicating to him, he hadn't felt his cock throbbing to painfully before, patience was not an option right now.

You made the sweetest sound for him when his encased your clit in his mouth, his lips securing around that pretty pearl and he lightly sucked on it. His firm hands held you still while you naturally squirmed around from the stimulation, keeping you down even when you tried to buck into his mouth more. Logan pulled back enough for his breath to warm your swollen bud, and he grunted, "Stay still. You don't get to move. I'll make you cum, I'll decide when you've had enough."

The tiny whimper that left your trembling lips was enough encouragement, but he wanted to push a little more. So, the smug bastard leaned up and over you, glaring down, his wet lips shining against the dull light of the room peering through his always drawn curtains. Still, when the warm sunlight did peek through, he looked gorgeous.

"Say it. Say you understand."

"I...I understand..." you swallowed the thick lump in your throat, not realizing how tight it felt until you spoke again. He smirked down at you, his eyes raking over your form and he let his hands knead your body a bit more. "So soft...perfect for me. I can really throw you around hm? You can take it..." he groaned as he felt your body, his hands moving up to your breasts and holding them, massaging and pinching your nipples like an eager virgin.

Logan moved down again, his mouth drooled as he took your clit once more, his tongue lapping and teasing the bud before dipping inside your entrance. He tasted you, groaning like an animal at your taste as his tongue went deeper. You hooked your leg around his shoulder and pulled him closer, finding a loophole in keeping your hips still.

Luckily for you, he enjoyed it enough to allow it.

"Stop squirmin' princess...I've almost gotcha ready." He continued to work your pussy until he felt like you were ready enough. He pulled away and licked his lips, "Now...open those pretty lips." he swiped his fingers over your folds and then held them to your pouty face. "You're such a dirty girl...doing everything I say, aren't you?"

He lightly spanked your pussy, then pressed his dick into your folds and rubbed to slicken himself. When did he take his pants off?

You were interrupted when his fat head poked your entrance, forcing you to stretch out around the soft flesh and allow him in. You mewled desperately, the burn of it was so addicting. "Lo...Logan..!"

"Shh, sh, you can take it." he whispered and pushed until his head popped inside. You gasped, just his head made you feel dizzy. And he kept going.

Inch after inch.

You were squirming and crying softly, he was so big, ugh it felt amazing but overwhelming all at once. "L-Lo..Logan, I..aah," you blabbered, his thumbs swiped your temples as he chuckled down at you, his body keeping you warm. He pressed his scruffy cheek into yours so he could whisper to you while his hips rocked against you, his wet head smacking gentle, sloppy kisses to your swollen cervix.

"Shh, good girl, gooood girl," he praised you in a low, soothing tone, his voice contradicting what his body was doing to you. You felt like you were on fire, pleasure was shooting through every inch of you while that delightful burn remained as strong as ever. "Y'r doin' good...so good. Takin' all of me inside ya...knew you could."

Logan's hips moved faster inside you, driving himself in and out at a much better pace for the both of you. He held your legs up and watched himself move in and out of you, admiring the beautiful arousal that coated into his curls. He deliberately made slow, long thrusts so you could feel the mold of his cock perfectly.

Every vein, the plush head, how his cock formed your velvet walls and made you adjust.

It was everything you could've wanted from him.

While you memorized the shape of his dick, he suddenly threw your legs around his waist and he leaned over you, causing your hips to come up and off the bed a little. He began to drive himself inside at an animalistic, rough pace while he held you. His teeth bared as he let out the deepest snarl you ever heard from him. "You make me fuckin' wild, baby...look what y'r doin'...I'm actin' like how I should. A fuckin' animal."

You sobbed lightly from the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you, his cock hitting that delicious spongy spot inside that made you see stars. "Logan!! M'gonna cum...!" you cried, your fists balling the sheets by your head as you let out all your little sounds you tried to hide.

There was no reason to hide them anymore, honestly.

He kept going just as he was, knowing his movements and pace were perfect for you. "That's it...yeah baby, cum on my cock, show me how much you like it, milk my cock." Logan held your hips firm, his fingers dug into your flesh as he focused on his thrusts, driving deeper and deeper.

You finally let out a strangled cry, your vision blurring as your body released around him, clamping down on his dick like a vice and almost messing up his rhythm. "G-goddamn-"

"I'm cumming, fuck! Don't stop, keep going, keep fucking me!" you screamed desperately, reaching you and clawing his shoulder blades, your hips rocking against his thrusts as your mind just focused on riding out your orgasm for as long as possible. He moved with you until he finally let loose, one single thrust in and his cock swelled and exploded against your pretty cervix, spraying his cum inside and filling up your little hole. He dripped out of you as he continued to fill you up, cum squeezing past his cock plugging your pussy, but the sheer amount of it couldn't be contained completely.

Logan's chest rose and fell quickly, his skin in a thin sheen from sweat, as was yours, and you both stilled as you regained your breaths together. You were in a complete daze, your mind foggy from pleasure and good hormones, his dick still buried inside you and felt so right.

"Good girl...fuck, my girl." he grumbled and nudged your head to the side with his own, kissing your jaw. "Did so well...down we go, easy," he lowered your legs while speaking to you gently, pulling himself from your body and watching as his cum flowed out of you. You whined at the absence of him, he just tsked and shushed you.

"Ah, don't give me that...we have to get you cleaned up. Be good for me, and I'll make sure you're nice and cozy after." Logan chuckled at your dazed expression, lifting you up a bit and smirking at how you whined into him.

"Logan....noo, just a little longer..." You pleaded lightly, trying your best to convince him, but he was not going to give in. Instead he picked you up with ease, your weight didn't bother him in the slightest, and he carried you to the bathroom.

"Clean first, then we can lay all you want." He set you down in the bathroom, knowing you were very exhausted by now and most likely coming down from your orgasm high, so he made the clean up quick. His touches were gentle, carefully washing the rag over your body and between your legs, getting all the sticky cum washed away. He stood behind you and kissed the nape of your neck, giving you goosebumps even under the hot water. "Doin' good for me...keep it up, we're almost done princess..."

When you were finally finished, you were so relieved to lay on the clean bed. Your body was much more worn out than you thought, before you collapsed, your legs trembled and almost refused to hold you up. You snuggled into the sheets, smelling heavily of Logan plus a hint of the earthy cologne he rarely wears.

He joined you a few minutes later, his strong arms wrapped around you and held you close. His hand slowly caressed up and down your side, gently squeezing and massaging you. His presence and the tiredness hit you after cleaning, and the drop of hormones made you want to sleep. Your body turned towards him, your face burying in his chest as you let out a shaky breath.

"Easy...I gotcha...sleepy girl. Go on and take a nap, I'll stick with ya until you wake...promise." He kissed the crown of your head and held you firmly against him, knowing you were going to fall asleep any second. You drove him so wild but he also felt a strong need for you in other ways. He wanted you for himself in every shape and form, you were so beautiful, and he would make sure you believed it and saw yourself as he did.

If he couldn't convince you with words, well...he can always fuck you again and make you see.

Thanks for reading ily.

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <3

[monstersflashlight]

To kill a king, to fuck a dragon (Day 8/8 of 10k followers event)

A/N: Hi there people! I’m so, so glad that all of you took time to read all the stories I post, especially these past 8 stories that had been super exploratory for me. I think I did good enough, at least y’all seemed to like it. For this last one I added a bit more plot than usual, this is a tiny bit longer and I think the story is really good. I hope y’all love it as much as I do. Also, and once again, I want to thank ALL OF YOU for following this little corner of the internet and being so supportive and great, special thanks to all my patrons to make my life a little bit easier <3, this has been a blast so far and I hop y’all keep reading, hopefully this account is just the beginning of a much longer exploration of monsterfuckery for us all. (PS: If someone catches the very subtle Grey’s anatomy reference please let me know so we can be friends)

Dragon x fem!reader || size kink, slow-burn (kinda), sex with feelings, magic saliva, spit on pussy, multiple orgasms, overstimulation || tw: mentions of murder

You enter the cave and are surprised to find a door, a normal human door caved into the rock. It looks like a house, a house on the rock, but still normal. What the fuck? Your hopes and dreams of finding the dragon slowly disappear, your eyes teary.

Someone chooses that moment to speak behind you: “Who are you?” You turn around so fast you fall to the ground with a scream. The stranger looks at you like you are a bug he needs to squeeze, and you feel a tear running down your cheek. Fuck. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry even if there wasn’t a dragon. “Again: who are you?” His tone is harsh and you want to cry even more, but you bit your tongue.

“I- I came to find the dragon,” you confess, swallowing around the knot in your throat.

He looks at you like you are a joke, not even trying to help you to your feet. “What dragon?” He asks, his tone amused.

You get up and look at him, trying to look as serious as you can when you say: “They- They told me there was a dragon here.” You fail.

He chuckles, inspecting you up and down, his eyes zeroing on the few tears that escaped your eyes. “No dragons, just me,” he finally answers, his tone a lot softer than before.

“Uh-oh… Sorry. I’ll be on my way, then.” You try to get pass him, sniffling as you do so, trying really hard to get out before you start sobbing.

He sighs, and adds: “do you want some tea?” He offers you his hand, and weirdly enough, you don’t feel threatened or scared, you feel calm around him.

“Really?” You don’t want to sound too hopeful but you are thirsty and tired and you want to cry because there is no dragon and you basically lost hope of everything.

“Yeah, come on.” He motions you to follow him inside the rock house, and you are surprised about how cozy and homey it feels inside, like out of a fairy-tale kind of thing.

He makes some tea as you lean against the door frame of the kitchen, trying to look around as much as possible without looking too snoopy about it. Not that he seems to care that you are curious about everything, he just looks at you every once in a while like making sure you are still there.

“Why were you looking for a dragon?” He asks when he sets the tea cup on the table in front of you. A similar one in front of him. You sit and start sipping on the best tea you’ve ever had.

You sip the tea for a couple seconds, trying to decide if you can trust him, at the end you decide why not, your life is already ruined. “To kill the king,” you say. He chokes on the tea he’s drinking, and you have to bite down on your lip to stop from giggling.

“What?” He asks again when he recovers, his face red from the coughing.

“To kill the king,” you repeat. He still looks stunned so you give him more context: “I- I was bought when I was in the womb. My parents promised me to him in exchange for gold, and the day we marry is approaching. I don’t want to do it, he’s a foul man, and I didn’t choose this. I overheard some servants talking about the dragon in the mountains, and I though… I thought they would help me.” You try not to sound too bitter about it, but you can’t keep the despair out of your voice.

He looks at you like you are suddenly the most interesting specimen of a bug. “You escaped the castle and came here?”

“Yes,” you answer truthfully. There was a lot more implied in that simple question. You escaped, but not only that, they are probably looking for you and the king would probably kill those guards you ran away from. You try not to be too sad about them, they were cruel with you, laughing at you every time you passed, talking about how the king got a new hot wife.

“Are they still looking for you?” He asks, a lot smarter than you give him credit for.

“Probably.” It’s the truth but it still carries a lot of pressure as you say it. You understand though, you know it’s not his problem and you shouldn’t even be there. You’d find another way to escape the king. “I’ll be out of your hair, I promise. You didn’t sing up for any of this.” You realize the sun is setting in the horizon and you don’t know if you could find your way back to the village. Fuck. “I need to go. The village is a long journey from here,” you try not to sound scared, but an edge of fear permeates your voice.

He surprises you by saying: “Stay. I have a guest bedroom and there’s no way you could get back to the village if it’s this dark.”

You want to say no, to refuse, that’s improper, but the idea of going back to that golden prison is enough to make you say: “I’ll leave first thing in the morning.” It’s a promise you do to him, but also to yourself. That man showed you more caress that anyone in your life, and you didn’t want to cause him unnecessary trouble. You’ll leave in the morning.

Problem is… You never do.

The next day he prepares breakfast, and insists on showing you around his house. It’s so beautiful you are mesmerized. His garden especially. It’s so colorful and big and calm…. You feel an instant connection to the earth, and to him. He’s so easy to be around, he treats you so differently like what you are used to. And you like it. You like it so much that you get distracted until the sun is setting once again. And he never tells you to leave.

And days pass. One day turns into another, and you… never leave. You know someday they will come back for you. You know you can’t run away from your problems. But right there, in the side of the mountain with that nice man that took you in… It feels possible to run away. It feels possible to avoid the awful destiny that was set for you before you were even born.

He teaches you to cook, to take care of plants, to polish wood… He’s like a handyman that can do all, and you are his new apprentice, even though he insists on doing all the heavy lifting. But on top of that, he just… amazing. He takes care of you, but also you two argue about stupid stuff until you are red faced and you want to hit him, just to end up laughing when he tells you a stupid joke. You have the most fun you had in ages with him.

Until one day all shifts (pun intended).

You are laying around under the tree as he does some gardening. He wouldn’t let you near the roses in case you got hurt. “I have something to tell you,” he breaks the silence.

“What?” You ask, looking directly at him, a spark of something unknown raising inside of you, like bugs in your stomach, crawling around every time you set your eyes on him, on his beautiful smile.

He looks at you intently and says the most ominous thing: “I- I think it’s better if I show you, actually.”

“Show me what? Why do you sound so serious?” You try to joke, but it doesn’t land because he still looks at you with a poker face.

He looks worried, apprehension settling on his features. “Just… Wait until I’m done to say anything, please?” His tone is more than pleading, is more like he’s begging you to understand, and you don’t know what could possibly be so bad.

“Okay…” You tell him, anxiety spiking.

And then he turns. Literally. His body contorts and cracks, and there’s a bunch of things happening at once, and before you realize, there’s a dragon in front of you. A full on real dragon. What? He’s majestic, as big as a house and skin covered in the most precious scales. He looks like a work of art… you are mesmerized.

“You said there was no dragon!” It’s the first thing out of your mouth, an edge of hysterics creeping in your tone.

You laugh then. You laugh so hard and so much you have tears rolling down your eyes. He changes back, and tries really hard to cover his manhood with his hands, failing and making you laugh even harder.

“You are a dragon,” you say when your laughter dies down.

“I am,” he says simply, approaching you slowly until he’s right in front of you. “And I will kill the king for you,” he adds.

There’s no point in asking why he didn’t tell you sooner, you understand why. Why would he? Why would he trust his deepest secret to you? But him showing you now? It meant more than the world, it made you forget about everything and anything chasing you down. It makes you happy. He makes you happy.

“No. I don’t care about the king. I just… I love you. I think what I feel is love, I never felt like this before.” You tell him, heat creeping up your cheeks. He looks at you like he’s surprised, like he wasn’t expecting that at all. “Do you feel it, too?” You ask shyly, your hand over his chest, feeling his heart beat faster and faster.

“Ye- yes. I love you, too.” His confession is followed by his hands cupping your face, so soft and tender, you feel a tear running down your cheek as he kisses you for the first time.

You should have known better than to think your life could be so perfect.

You don’t hear them before you are captured. At least four soldiers appear at the edge of the garden and catch you before you can scream. You think about him, about your dragon, and lament how confused he will be when he returns and you aren’t there. You worry he would think you abandoned him… But you can’t do anything as they take you away from the only place you felt like home.

They don’t even wait a whole day before they are dressing you and pampering you in the best silks and makeups. Nobody says anything as you silently cry during all the process. The servants looking worried but not arguing with anyone, three guards at the door of every chamber you enter.

You are caged once again.

You walk to the aisle in between a crowded place full of people who don’t like you, nor the king for the matter. They just want to appraise his old self to gain some benefits, the same as your parents did even before you were born. He looks like a nightmare standing in front of the altar, and you want to run, to run far away, back into your dragon’s arms. But you can’t, guards all around the open garden the ceremony is taking place in. You stand before your soon to be husband and have to swallow back the tears and bile, his rancid smell hitting you like a brick.

The minister starts speaking about love and marriage, and you cry during all his speech. You dream of being far away from there, as far away as possible. Or at least as close to your dragon as you could.

When you hear the people mumbling around you, you turn around, a shadow obscuring the sun. You look at the sky and sigh, so happy to see him you could cry. Maybe you would cry if you weren’t so shocked that he actually showed up.

He roars as he lands, people running in all directions, hiding in every possible place. “YOU STOLE FROM ME!” He growls, breathing fire to the sky and making people cry out in fear. You look at him in all his glory, fascinated by every inch of his skin.

“We- we saved the queen to be,” the guard’s words are short lived as your dragon looks at him and breathes fire right over his body, instantly burning him to the ground. There’s a chorus of screams and cries again, and you have to bite your tongue to stop from smiling.

“She’s not yours! SHE’S MINE!” You shiver at his words, feeling them so deep inside you think you might combust, butterflies dancing inside your stomach once again.

“You can’t take her! I bought her,” the king’s words don’t help his case at all, your dragon roaring and launching for him.

It all happens so fast, one second he’s there, and the next one the king’s head is rolling onto the ground as everyone screams and runs away. You are shocked to the core, but he doesn’t let you wallow in that. He picks you up and takes flight. You realize he’s being very careful not to pickle you with his claws. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but soon enough you are in a place you know, a place that brings you memories of joy and love… The garden.

As soon as he sets you down, he orders you to: “Go inside.” His tone is harsh, almost a growl.

“No,” you answer, not recoiling, not moving. You approach him more, your hand softly caressing the scales of his chest.

He roars over your head, trying to scare you away: “Go inside, I’m not in my right mind right now, I can’t answer for my actions.” You aren’t scared of him, though. He saved you from your most fearsome nightmare, he’s just the big monster you are in love with.

“No,” you repeat, a big smile playing on your lips when you look up at him.

“Come on, princess… Please.” Him begging in that form does something to you, such a big and scary creature asking you to go inside so he can protect you from himself… You are more sure than anything that you are safe. Safer than you’d be with anyone else. Human or monster.

“No. I want you. I love you.” Your words finally go through him, making his big body shiver, you feel it under your hands, a big shake that leaves you breathless. “Take me, my dragon.” You know adding that isn’t necessary, but you are more than ready to be a bride, to be his bride.

“Don’t joke around,” he growls, grabbing your body with his big clawed hand and positioning you to look straight into his yes, his big dragon head so beautiful you have to reach out and touch him. He scrunches his nose, making you giggle.

“Make me fully yours,” you say again.

His responding growl is so loud it makes the earth vibrate under your feet. You shiver in anticipation. He tears your wedding dress of your body, wrapping his wings around you to create a bubble, so you won’t feel a single spark of cold in your human skin.

Your wedding dress is torn off your body as he launches for your body, your naked form shivering at the cold temperature around you, but he solves that easily. He wraps his wings around your body getting you close to his much warmer scaled body. You sigh happily.

He lets you down onto the ground and you look up at him, completely vulnerable. “Fuck me. Claim me. Love me.” You lower yourself to the ground, your upper body to the ground, your ass up. You know what you must look like: an offering, a sacrifice. And you are okay with that. You are okay being his.

“You sure?” He asks again, always the gentleman, always worried about you. You are more sure of this that you were about anything else ever.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you chant as his claw proves your entrance. You look around in time to see him biting on his fingers, two seconds later he’s claw-less and his now not-dangerous fingers enter you. You cry out and bury your face on the mossy ground, his chuckle making you flush all over.

He plays with your pussy for what feels like an eternity, making you come twice before he starts stretching you fully. He gets to three fingers, way bigger than anything you tried before, and you can’t stop moaning.

You come again as he spits on your pussy, the sensation so filthy and so good you scream and fall over the edge again. You feel tingly all over after that, your pussy relenting under his ministrations and somehow widening further, accommodating one more of his fingers. “My saliva has magic in it,” he explains, his tone amused as he keeps finger fucking you. You don’t know if you can come again, you didn’t even know that much pleasure was possible.

“Come on, come on, please,” doesn’t matter how much you beg, he doesn’t relent.

He starts scissoring his big fingers inside of you, stretching you impossibly wide, and you squirm under him, a pleasure so big you don’t know how to deal with it, your body pliant under his actions, your brain completely void of thoughts. And then he stops and you curse him so loud he starts to laugh, moving your body and making you squirm under him. He grabs your hips to stop you from moving and you feel the tip of his cock against your entrance.

He enters you slowly, so slowly. You want to scream, but your brain is frozen with the over-sensitivity of his dick inside of you. He can’t fit inside, there’s no way, he’s probably just aiming for a third of his length, but right now, with just the tip inside, you feel like you are about to burst. You reach down and rub your clit, unlocking something inside of you and crying out so loudly he roars as your orgasm makes your pussy constrict around him. He pushes in a bit more, and you keep coming.

From that point on, it’s all a blur of sensations and emotions, so much pleasure you are blind to the world around you. His dick is barely inside, but it seems to be enough for him, and more than enough for you. You feel like he’s going to split you in two in the most amazing way. He feels so big inside of you that you think you might die if he keeps rubbing against all your special spots at once. And if you do… You’d die happy.

“Take me. Take all of me,” that’s all the heads up you get before he’s filling you, one last thrust inside before his hot seed floods your insides. It propels you over the edge one last time, the world fading into blackness.

You pass out.

When you come back to your senses, you are laying on a bed and there’s a warm body behind you. You sigh happily as he kisses your forehead and makes sure you are comfortable and warm. You feel such intense love for him in that moment, that you have to turn around and try how well it would feel to fit his human dick inside of you (this time all of him).

He feels perfect.

[identifying-cars-in-posts]

Hi everyone

So i hate to do this again, but due to both personal stresses and the state of the world I’m officially going on an indefinite hiatus. I love running this blog and helping people but one, i have a ton of stressors happening in my personal life, and two, it feels wrong running a silly little gimmick blog when people are being needlessly slaughtered, persecuted against, and dehumanized in huge numbers for simply being, in the US, in Palestine, Sudan, Ghana, and so many other places. I’m black, trans, AFAB, and neurodivergent living in the US, so daily I’ve had to deal with trauma personal to me in the states while trying to do what I can to take action against the atrocities happening overseas. All that to say there are significantly more important things I think should be being done than running a gimmick blog on tumblr. As much as I love this platform and have had a blast with it, it’s also kinda terrible for my mental health, and something bad for my mental health has to go before I completely break down. I love y’all and have had a great time. If ever the world calms down, perhaps I’ll come back, but for now I’m deleting tumblr and stepping back.

It might sound selfish but I’m also not gonna be offering to hand off this blog to anyone else, this was a really fun personal thing for me to explore my special interest and as somebody who doesn’t have a ton to myself and is not interested in chasing any sort of legacy, I don’t feel any urge to keep it going under someone else’s moderation. I’d never had a platform before this so I’d like to keep it 100% mine, even when I’m not in a place to run it. I know that might be a bit of a controversial choice but it’s the one that feels right to me.

Thanks for coming along with me on this fun little project. Sorry for the things I said I’d do eventually that never came to fruition. Keep loving cars and learning about them, I hope at least a couple people who follow me here pursue that interest.

Love you all. Free Palestine.

- Alyx/identifying-cars-in-posts