#and i know that as soon as i watch it i will be CONSUMED

[shyamanuensis]

Boyfriend Benefits - Ominis Gaunt

Here's Ominis' play out of events following this little scenario. Sebastian's coming soon xo - MDNI + 3000ish words of slow burn smut.

There was a clear level of blatant animosity suffocating the air of your dorm as you sat sheepishly with your ankles crossed at your vanity; shoulders slumped. The mirrors reflection in front of you only managing to  cast an ounce of the uncomfortable tension you felt etching like needles across your sweat-dampened skin as Ominis paced the room in silence. He’d been doing so for quite some time now. Minutes, hours, who knew - but you were able to do little more than watch agonizingly as it seemed his internal thoughts argued with themselves. The way his boots hit the floor with each step, the way his fists clenched with every attempt at reasoning - you knew this was your fault. Or well… not only your fault. Sebastian was the one to blame for bringing your behind-closed-door secret to light after he let out the worlds worst compliment to Ominis after one too many whiskey shots behind the quidditch pitch earlier this evening.

“Your girlfriend tastes fucking delicious Ominis…”

The six words had consumed you since you were dragged away from your friends and tossed into the now awkward familiarity of the room where all that had happened just a few nights before. You hadn’t even had time yet to change the bed sheets. Eyes flickering to anything and everything in the room, your gaze ran across a photograph strip of Ominis and yourself taken on the first date you’d had together in Hogsmeade well over a year ago now; happy, in love, loyal.

“How could you?” It was the first thing he’d said all night since the quidditch pitch.

His tone was lower than usual as Ominis addressed you. Solemn. Dry. There was absolutely no feeling, no emotion, no melancholy. You shifted in your seat in an attempt to get comfortable if possible but it was no use; any move you made stung with self-regarded selfishness.

“Ominis… I…”, you had little more to defend yourself with than half-attempted apologies you’d already cycled through a half dozen times tonight already; in an attempt to fill the void and silence you’d been sitting through.

“And with Sebastian of all blood people.”

“It was a mistake. Honestly. It - it was a one-time thing.”

Oh no it wasn’t. That was a total fucking lie. Sallow and you had been getting up close and personal behind Ominis’ back for months now. Not that you’d admit it. You’d rather be flogged, tortured, forced to swear black and blue before you let that secret slip. A clandestine covert you’d take to the grave.

“Let… let me make it up to you Omi”, you tried to reason as he clearly wasn’t having any of your apologies. “ …I’ll, I’ll let you punish me. As you see fit.”

“Punish you?”

Ominis’ voice echoed throughout the dorm; a harsh, humourless laugh spilling from the back of his throat as the words escaped from his lips.

“You think you deserve a punishment? To be punished? Oh no sweetheart…”, he shook his head, fist tightening around his wand as he dropped it slightly, no longer aiding his mindless wandering; a wave of bitter conflict and disappointment washing over him instantaneously. “You deserve so much worse than that. You deserve to be cast out. You deserve to be shunned by everyone you know and everyone you love. You deserve to be left with nothing but the bitter taste of betrayal and the knowledge that you threw away the one good thing you had in your life.”

It was clear Ominis was angry, hurt — and something else. Each drawn-out breath he now took proved that he was wrestling with a conflict of emotions that ate him up from the inside. But there was something else; something lingering across his expression, across his skin, across his eyes which Ominis forced himself not to acknowledge.

“However”, his voice softened only slightly back to his usual tone as he approached you, “You want me to punish you… chastise you… seek payback for what you’ve done…”

Ominis reached out towards you with his free hand; soft fingers brushing against your dampened hair and tear-stained cheek as he pursed his lips; fighting himself on whether the path to retribution he was about to take was worth his time, his hassle, his energy.

“Fine. Consider this punishment your last and final warning. I’ll make you remember why you belong to me. I’ll remind you why you’ll never be able to betray me again.”

Fingers knotting into your hair roughly; Ominis yanked you up from where you were seated and forced you to stumble across the carpeted floor; onto the bed.

“Strip”, he scoffed, “Now.” The command in his voice was dangerously low. “I want to see every inch of that body which dared to be touched by another. Slattern tramp. I’m going to remind you exactly who you belong to.”

Robes, vest, tie, shirt, skirt - each item stripped and tossed to the floor as instructed without a question. Ominis listened intently to each garment fall and pool at your feet; counting them one by one as he crossed off the list in his head.

“I said strip. Strip.”

Your breath caught to knot in the back of your throat as you reached around the unclasp and step out of the lace undergarments you’d worn and were hoping to show off rather than despoil to the floor. Hearing the last two garments hit the floor; Ominis took a tight grip on your wrist and forced you down; back now against the bed.

“And maybe dear… just maybe… if you please me well enough, I’ll consider giving you a second chance you clearly don’t deserve. Don’t expect it to be easy though. I’m going to make you work for every scrap of forgiveness.”

Leaning down over you; his breath hovered hot against the sensitive skin of your ear. “Now be a good little harlot and do exactly as I say before I lose what little patience I still have left for you.”

Pushing onto the bed to kneel between your legs, you felt his fingers dance along the sweat-slicken skin of your thighs as his thumb found its way to your clit; pushing roughly against it. He scoffed at the barely there whimper you eluded, the minor shift of your hips that rocked beneath him. He drank in the feel; the heat radiating off your skin.

“Good girl…”, he murmured into your ear with an approving rumble. “I bet you look like a proper little slut laying there. Beneath me. My pretty little plaything.”

My - ugh; you had for a moment forgotten how possessive he could be.

“You thought you could forget that, couldn’t you? Thought you could get away with letting another boy touch you, taste you, without consequence?” As Ominis’ voice roughened so did his thumb at your clit. “You thought wrong my dear - oh so very fucking wrong.”

Lifting himself up to take both your wrists and pin them above your head, Ominis let the tip of his wand dig into the hollow of your throat and drag with a hot sting down the valley of your breasts.

“Keep your hands above your head”, he ordered, sitting up to shuffle back down the bed. “Don’t you dare move them or touch yourself without my permission.  This is about punishing you; not pleasuring you. Understood?”

Your semi-restrained form he ran his hands along, to paint the perfect image in his head of what he was dealing with tonight was absolutely perfect, even if he couldn’t see it. His wand snapping with a flick between your knees, you grit your teeth at the stinging infliction and mewl out a culpable groan.

“Spread your legs. Now.” The command was simple. “Show me everything. Give me access to those pretty pink folds that dared to be touched by Sebastian.”

You did as you were told. Knees falling; thighs opening; slit already wet. The mention of that name - ugh that name you just wanted to delete from your minds browser history. Feeling Ominis’ lips at your knees, you let your head fall back; each kiss tantalizing in this game of punishment and pleasure you were now definitely sure you wanted to be playing.

“You’re going to pay for your betrayal dear. You’re going to pay for hours, days, weeks, months years. Going to pay in ways that you can’t even begin to fathom or imagine; but first — first I’m going to remind you of exactly who you belong to and I’m going to make sure you never forget it again.”

Twirling his wand around with a schooled flick of his wrists; Ominis held the blade and brushed the hardwood aspen handle lightly over your folds. His fingers followed suit, feeling just how wet you already where as he pressed a kiss soft to your clit.

“Tsk, tsk. Look at how wet you are. Insatiable little harlot. Always hungry for more it seems; always craving something to fill that empty little void inside you.” Pressing the wands handle harder against your slick heat; the woods cool, stark contrast was teasingly delectable against your scorching heat. “I bet you forgot about that though… didn’t you? This is mine; all mine. To pleasure, to please, to control.”

Whirling his wand around; it was a short, sharp, slap of the tip against your clit that caused you to grip at the headboard; the handle finding its way swiftly to your entrance. Each word Ominis spoke was punctuated with a sharp thrust of his wand. You couldn’t hold back. Biting your lip only did so much to suppress the moans that choked in your throat and knotted off the tip of your tongue.

“Tell me dear; did Sebastian make you feel this good? Did his touch set your body on fire the way mine does? Always has?” He shifted the wand handle inside you to cradle up against that sensitive spot he knew would have you seeing stars. “Or am I still the only one to - let’s not say, satisfy you; but give you what you need?”

Ominis could feel your body clench and quiver around the wand as he thrust the handle in at an excruciating rate. He made note of the way the hitch of your breath changed, the way you gasped and moaned, rollong your eyes with each touch, back arching off the bed; chest rising and falling just the way he had intended. You stayed silent though - knowing the question was a trap. Knowing that it was something Ominis was hoping you’d just walk straight into. Chuckling against your skin; he kissed at your hip and let a cruel, wicked smile tug at the corners of his lips.

“He doesn’t - does he?”

You murmured a soft no in response not being able to keep the answer to yourself.

“Doesn’t what my love? Make you feel good? Fill you? Fuck you? Give you the attention like the desperate little slut you are.” Each word brought on a rougher thrust of the wand, it smacking against your swollen core. He could feel beneath him your lower body trembling; hear your hands grip at the headboard so lightly he was sure your knuckles were turning white. Ominis could hear the desperate, needy sounds falling from your lips and each clung to him; to the promise of pleasure, pain, and retribution.

“Remember this… remember the feeling of my wand inside you; claiming you, punishing you, pleasing you. Remember the way it makes your body sing. The way I play your body like the instrument that it is. You belong to me - you’re mine; now and forever. No matter what you do, who you do, how far you run, where you slink off to between the shadows… you’ll always belong to me.”

Gripping at your hip, Ominis pulled you down onto the wand, impaling you as he forced you to ride the wood with savage intensity as his mouth found your sensitive bundle of nerves and murmured against it.

“This is the start of your punishment - your penance.” He nipped at your skin; feeling your back arch off the bed again in a perfect curve of pleasure and ecstasy.

“Now scream for me. Scream my name. Let the whole fucking castle know who’s causing you to feel this way. Who you belong to. Let them know you’re mine and mine alone.”

The sweet sound of his name coursing through the dungeons was like the first songbirds cry to a new spring. He could feel the way your body tensed; hear the desperation as you repeated his name like a broken record again and again and again. Panting and gasping. The way your body clenched around his wand as if trying to pull it in deeper, needier; hold it inside of you with greed.

“P-pl-please Omi..”

“Please?”, he hocked with a cruel laugh as his lips continued to assault your clit. “Please what? Please stop? Please give you more?” He kept up the pace of his wands thrusts driving it deeper, harder, and faster into your dripping heat.

“You want to come, don’t you dear?”, he growled the question between your folds and brushed his tongue against your already occupied entrance. “You want to beg for it? Bed for me to let you find your release?”

Although he could feel his own desires climbing; Ominis remained stoic to how you were making him feel; your hips rocking in agony chasing a pleasure you knew he wasn’t going to so easily give up and in.

“Go on then; but this is all you get. The wand and nothing else. Come for me; like the helpless little slut that you are. Come on my wand; show me that you remember who you belong to.”

Ominis could feel your body starting to convulse beneath him; your walls grip at his wand like a vice as your high approached. The exiguity echoing from your voice against every wall in the room, testament to the desire and need you craved reward for. Hot breath against your slit, your hips bucked up towards Ominis - wanting to be teased, wanting to be fucked, wanting to be released.

“That’s it…”, he growled, “Come for me.”

A final brutal thrust of his wand pressed in as deep as the handle could go ground against your sensitive spots and walls forcing you to see stars as your hot, dripping arousal coated Ominis’ fingertips. For a moment; he was torn between that dark satisfaction of finally pushing you over the edge and giving into his own desires in the most primal way possible. He knew you wanted him, needed him, Merlin – help him; just as much as he needed you. Catching your breath, you closed your eyes and felt Ominis remove his wand from between your folds, the parting feeling causing you to whimper at the lost friction you so desperately needed.

With a guttural groan; Ominis lifted himself off the bed just enough to fight with his belt and trousers; revealing his aching cock which throbbed with a mind of its own as it strained towards your heat.

“Fuckk..”

As the head of his cock nudged your slick entrance; Ominis positioning himself between your thighs you begged for the chance to touch him.

“Permission to move my hands…”

“Granted love.”

They fell from the bedhead to grip at his hips; grasping through the thick trouser fabric.

“Please Omi… please, please, please, please, please.”

Ominis rocked his hips lightly forward; head of his cock catching on your entrance with a tease. A torment. Pushing you to the brink of madness. You tried to rock yourself onto him; feel him, need him; but Ominis didn’t give in. Through his shirt you could see his heart pounding. The short and sharp gasps he made, making it obvious that he wanted this as much as you needed it.

“I… I…”

Enough with the begging. Ominis reached up to wrap a hand around your throat as he sunk himself in with a groan so deep it caused the dorm room to vibrate.

“You don’t get to come until I say you can.”

He snarled as his hips started to move slowly but no less demanding than what you expected.

“You don’t get to find your pleasure until I’ve had my way with you. Used you for my own fucking satisfaction.”

Hearing you whimper and plead; feeling your body wither and tremble; this only fuelled Ominis furhter. His desire, need to dominate, to control, to reclaim what was his ignited.

“You’re mine. Mine to punish. Mine to pleasure. Mine to do with what I please and right now…”, Ominis ground his hips against yours, cock buried as deep as it could go, “…I please myself.”

As Ominis began to move again, his thrusts were slow; deep, deliberate. Each one planned and executed to stroke the desire you needed fulfilled. To keep you teetering on the knifes edge of release but not allowing you to fall over it.

“You’re going to take it all my little fucking whore; take every inch, every drop, every thrust and fucking thank me for it, because this…”, he explained with a particularly hard thrust which pushed you to the edge - length pulsating, “is what you were fucking made for.”

Hands sliding up Ominis’ chest to his shoulders, you gripped like it was a lifeline you couldn’t make it without and stumbled over your own confession.

“Y-you… you feel different… different to Sebastian.”

For a split second; Ominis felt his heart be pierced through the haze of lust and desire which clouded him. He was struck by a pang of jealousy; a searing rage at the thought of his best friend touching his girl. Sebastian’s hands against your skin. His tongue relishing the sweetness of your tight cunt. Ominis wanted to rage, to scream, to destroy everything that dared come between him and what was his, but he pushed that thought to the side as he felt your walls grip at his cock like a velvet vice. The way you engulfed him; consumed him, dragged him deeper and deeper in.

“Different?”, he groaned into your ear; his voice laced with both disgust and distaste.”Of course I’m different, you little witch. Sebastian’s just a pale imitation of what someone like I can do for you. A watered-down version of what you’re used to.”

You opened your eyes to look up at him; drinking in the words he said like a sinner being told their death sentence.

“I’m not some timid little boy pretending - I’m a Gaunt. I was born to dominate, to conquer, to take what I want and make it mine”, his thrusts became more erratic, “and what I want is to ruin you for anyone else.”

Ominis could feel his release approaching; the heat and pressure building up where he knew you wanted it most but he held back, determined to make you come first. To feel your pleasure before he found his own.

“So go on my little slut”, he coaxed; a hand dropping down to play your clit like a fiddle and throw you over the edge. “Take it. Take every fucking inch and remember that you belong to me.”

As you screamed his name and stopped thinking; body taking over, your cries of pleasure anguished and echoing off the dungeon walls, Ominis slammed his hips forward; driving his cock deep inside forcing you to feel the first spurts of his release, painting you inside out with greed. Collapsing on top of your sweat-slicken body; Ominis felt the last of a shockwave of pleasure tense through his body, a dark ecstasy that utterly consumed him. Heart still pounding; he could feel your breath, the way your body trembled, your ragged moans as you hesitatently came down from a high of your own.

“Mine…”, he whispered against your lips; catching them with his own for a deep, long awaited kiss, “…and don’t you fucking forget it.”

[doodler16]

I don't talk about/avoid talking about proshippers on here because if I do, and even I make sure to tag any proship post using the anti tags, proshippers will find a way to try to harass me, and I don't want my mental health to suffer all thanks to these sick fuckers (as my mental health is already suffering thanks to my job and other offline stuff).

But I want to get this off of my chest in terms of my chest. As an antishipper, I'm concerned about minors entering these kinds of spaces and consuming content that has proship themes (including Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss). The fact that there's a trend of minors watching Hazbin and Helluva Boss is concerning. Despite the shows having some sort of content warning at the beginning of each episode (and minor, of course easily ignoring that), Vivziepop has yet to make a statement regarding minors watching her stuff. And the fact that she has yet to address that issue, it seems like she doesn't care about her minors supporting her since it's just another way to gain income so she could use that money towards paying those A list celebs she hired while paying her animators pennies. And it's bad enough that she hasn't addressed the issue about the one child that asked Angel Dust's VA about how he felt recorded scenes involving very sexual themes.

I feel like, as a result of Vivziepop ignoring the issues of minors supporting her work, interacting with fans, and cosplaying as characters that they shouldn't be cosplaying, there's going to be a lot of grooming accusations coming forward about adults grooming child fans. Vivziepop, as a creator, especially as a creator of an animated series targeted towards adults, has full responsibility as to who should or shouldn't be consuming her work. And knowing she's not going to come out with a statement anytime soon, people are going to use that as an excuse to prey on the children in the fandom as her remaining silent on the matter is going to make people think that she's okay with minors supporting her (basically the whole "silence = acceptance" thing).

I'm also concerned that it will go beyond adult fans grooming minors to people who work closely to Vivziepop grooming minors. As of right now (but please correct me if I'm wrong), I haven't heard about anyone who works under her being groomers, but I'm worried that it will eventually lead up to that all because Vivziepop doesn't want to take a minute out of her day to tell minors not to watch HB and HH.

And it's not just Vivziepop that should be held accountable. The parents of these children who are supporting her need to be held accountable, too. These parents need to look into what their children are watching both online and on TV. A lot of (if not all) adult media contains content that children shouldn't be consuming. And what doesn't help is that there are parents who don't care if their kids watch this kind of stuff, including porn.

I highly doubt that Vivziepop will do the right thing by issuing a statement about minors consuming her work. From what I've witnessed, it's clear that she's putting profit over minor safety. As long as these kids are giving her their money, she doesn't give a shit if adult fans are acting predatory towards minors. And she'll do everything she could to sweep things under the rug if anyone who works for her are grooming on those minor fans.

Fair concern. Minors in the Helluvaverse community have always been a problem ironically despite Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss being for mature audiences. The closest thing Vivziepop has done from what I’ve seen so far is liking tweets that parent shouldn’t bring their children into adult panels.

Then Vivziepop said this:

I don’t know if things changed now with their booths/panels but both booths and panels ideally should be strictly 18+ (ID included too obviously), so they avoid situations like how a 9-10 year old asked Blake Roman inappropriate questions or any other uncomfortable situations. For Helluva Boss, Vivziepop could actually age restrict but if she does that she would lose more viewers.

Adult fans grooming minors have definitely happened. For example, an Anon mentioned their concerns regarding adult fans encouraging minors to ship ValAngel and how it happened to them. Luckily their friends got them out of that situation.

Right now at the moment there haven’t been any allegations of any Spindlehorse employees being groomers. I’ve only heard of drawing incest and rape fetishization. But only time will tell. Either way, Anon hope you are doing better.

[sillystarwrites]

Do you like dark asks? Cause I wanted to ask [based off a disenchantment scene] how would the tadc cast react if Jax, while pranking a reader with a glass bulb head, shattered it, which causes reader to flat out die. The light in their head goes out before nothing

A/N: THISSS FHSJDHDHSH consumes ask i love this and disenchantment sm. It’s been a while since I watched it tho 😔. Sorta made a new setup?? Idk what I’m doing, but I think it looks neat.

Type/Summary: tadc cast’s reactions to Jax pushing a prank too far and breaking the (gn)reader’s lightbulb head, killing them. Reader literally dies, so if you guys are sensitive to that, shoo shoo, we’ll have more stuff to feed you that won’t upset you soon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LIGHTS OUT!

Jax:

He was walking from his room, down past the vibrant landscape of the digital circus until he saw you sitting at the couch. He commonly pranked you, and it never hurt too much, so what if he broke your head? Surely Caine could fix it, of course.

He stealthily snuck behind you, attempting to be slow and steady, that wins the race, right? Until someone made eye contact with him. Ragatha. There goes slow and steady. Knowing she’d warn you, he shoved you quickly, cackling at your yelp until-

CRACK

Your head…shattered. The light, gone, now eternally dark. Was he maybe possibly scared as hell? Yeah. But he couldn’t just admit that, we’re talking Jax.

“Pfft, they’ll be fine!” he laughed, trying to be hopeful in his own way.

Later, when having discovers that no, you were not fine, and somehow…dead, he couldn’t stand himself. He barely even knew you outside of his pranks, but still. He can’t help but feel like the worst human being to ever human being. Which, those now pent up emotions, anger, grief, sadness, all go to his pranks. They get worse and worse, with his mental state too. He just can’t live with himself. He didn’t mean to, he really, really didn’t. Or did he? He can’t tell. He can’t ever tell. You’re gone. He can’t apologize. Everyone, except Caine and the NPCs, treats him like a monster. He’s heard their whispers, he’s seen their looks. He knows he is.

Ragatha:

She was relaxing, crocheting in the main area when he spotted Jax behind you. Just as she began to jump up, her cloth lips beginning to move, it was too late.

A loud CRACK sounded in the room, the deed done. She scrambled to get Caine, who was nearby, thankfully, but he couldn’t do much.

You’d always been more closed off, unless to the likes of Gangle, Zooble, or Pomni, so she couldn’t know you too well. That, of course, didn’t stop her from feeling guilty. She should’ve known. She should’ve helped. She should’ve done something.

She knew you were gone the moment the light was, all those bright ideas, thoughts, jokes, plans, evaporated into the digits of code in the circus. She couldn’t help but feel like she could’ve - no, should’ve - saved you.

She was furious with Jax, but also herself, neither of the two she’d ever forgive.

Caine:

He wasn’t around when it first happened, sitting in his rocking chair, with his favorite digital pipe when Ragatha ran over, panicking.

“What’s the matter, my dear? Are you all dying for a new adventure this quickly?” He asked, worried the morning was too quiet.

“No! No, no, y/n is hurt! Badly hurt!” She was speaking quickly, wasn’t that his thing? Something was definitely wrong!!

“Hurt? I’m on it, my radiant pineapple!” He joyously shouted, teleporting the two of them to you rather quickly, despite it only being a short run. 

Seeing you shattered on the floor was startling, nobody had played that game before, but nonetheless, he’d have it done quickly.

“I’ll fix them up in a jiffy, dear Rag-“ he attempted to reassure the doll as he snapped, but oddly enough, nothing happened. “That was just a fluke, I’ll have them fixed up in no time!”and so he tried again. And failed, again.

After several snaps filled the room, he was beyond worried now, “D-don’t worry everyone! I-I’m not sure what seems to be the issue, this should be working…”

“Then why isn’t it?” Zooble interrupted, irritated.

“J-just calm down, I’ve got it!” His snaps became white noise, he tried desperately for a good 30 minutes before floating above you. He decided to just…clean you up and shove you away, unsure of what else to try.

It was upsetting, losing a valuable guest such as yourself, and all the adventures seemed a bit less…lit up. Even worse, he didn’t get it. Why didn’t it work? 

Zooble:

They got there soon after Caine did, being with gangle and Pomni. They wish they stopped Jax, maybe then you’d still be there. 

After hearing Caine’s unexplained snaps, the trio walked out, confused until Zooble saw you. They couldn’t believe it. You. Shattered across the floor. It was fake, yes, but a terrifying site for those close to you.

After realizing what happened, they never forgave Jax. They refused to believe he ‘didn’t mean to’

“Come on, I didn’t mean to Zoobie, you know me!” Jax would try to explain, but they didn’t take it.

“Didn’t mean to my [boink sfx idk], Jax, sure you didn’t. Sure.” They would ignore, simply walking away.

They tried to adjust, attempting to ignore you even existed. Think red guy in the Death episode of DHMIS, if you get what I mean. Just trying to ignore you’re gone, ignore the problem and it’ll surely go away, right? Wrong.

Considering you two were close, they were used to you helping pick their Zooble parts. They always felt better when you did, but now it just didn’t feel the same.

It never would. 

Gangle: 

She always worried your bulb head would break, she just didn’t expect it to be like this. 

She walked out with Zooble and pomni, shocked at the sight. She was horrified, letting out a small squeak of surprise and panic, her mask shattering as she flinched.

“are they okay?” Was all she could ask, was all she would ask. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, but she did.

She sobbed for hours, her mask breaking every time she tried to fix it for the next week or so. She just couldn’t believe it, no way, no way! This wasn’t fair.

Like Zooble, she struggled to believe Jax’s plea for innocence, her trust with him forever lost. 

She still had Zooble and Pomni, so they helped her as she helped them. After spudsy’s, she did realize the happy mask was pointless. What’s the point of forcing happiness? You’re not coming back, and that’s okay, it’ll be okay, right? Right. Right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: sorry it’s missing Kinger and Pomni, I feel like I started repeating myself here 😭

[skateboardtotheheart]

painfully keeping myself away from the final season of Young Royals right now because I just know I'm not in the right headspace to enjoy it or pay attention to it in the way it deserves 😭

[tapakah0]

[atalienart]

✧*:･ﾟArt summary 2024

2014-2017 | 2018 | 2019 | 2020 | 2021

[shokupanda]

me when time moves forward at a steady pace: how the fuck is it more than halfway through july already. this fuckers rapidly sprinting when im not looking huh

[muchmossymess]

So I started watching full metal alchemist brotherhood bc I've heard great things about it, and I'm really REALLY liking it, but oh my god I did not realise how long it was

I thought it'd be like, 20 episodes, 25 max, not fucking SIXTY

Dont get me wrong this is great news there's so much and I'm in love but goodness me, much different to the eight episode formula we've come to expect. They really don't make them like they used to ig

[simptasia]

i'm getting my cervix poked today and not in the fun way. nevertheless it must be done, and i highly recommend cervical screenings to anybody that procedure applies to. early detection is so so important when it comes to cancer, my mum would still be alive if they found it in stage one, so i implore you not to ignore your body

[seventh-district]

so was anyone gonna tell me that Neil Newbon is the VA for Astarion or was i gonna have to find that out myself when he suddenly started uploading his playthrough of the game on YT

[zero-braincells-left]

what the fuck do i do now dude

[nolivingdudeami]

*

[helpimstuckinafandom]

I actually feel like i'm losing it I only started playing bg3 on friday/saturday and I am in withdrawl from just one day without it

[ourceliumnetwork]

i really am just going to have to lean into the fact that i just really like cheese board foods and deal with that, aren't I?

[zyafics]

CAN YOU PLEASE, PLEASE ON MY KNEES WRITE ABOUT BITCHY!READER X RAFE AND IT'S SMUT?? I FEEL LIKE YOU'LL DO IT JUSTICE!!! thank you

you literally read my mind because i was just thinking of this prompt that works so well with bitchy!reader!! hope you'll enjoy <3 (if it’s bad, look away!!)

WHATEVER SHE WANTS | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Blurb) | x Bitchy!Kook!Female Reader

Content — 18+, power/dominance play, p in v, doggy style, orgasm denial, and dirty talks

Word Count — 2.2K

l��llılı Whatever She Wants by Bryson Tiller

You always wanted Rafe.

It's your right. Since you were a child, you demanded the best in everything—toys, clothes, boyfriends. They had to be perfect. Had to be yours. And yes, it may come off a little superficial but who cares? It's what you deserve, and it'll be hell if you don't get it.

Since the first look, when you caught Rafe lounging on a chair with his friends, tipping the rim of his beer onto his lips, while his eyes scanned over the room in an attractive lazy way, you knew you had to have him. It didn't help that you were competitive, and Rafe garnered attention with women. They flocked to him and begged for a minute of his time. It became a game to you, and that heightened your need.

Everything was calculated. The makeup you wore, the outfits you curated, the glances. You always timed your arrivals—when you knew Rafe would be watching the door—and marked your exits. You knew exactly what to wear—dresses that tantalizing exposes your ass, but only as a preview—and the cosmetic style he liked. Rafe's the type of man who believes he wants a bare-faced woman, but truly, he wants something natural that enhances your features.

You came with friends. You left alone. You drank enough to loosen your nerves and danced with the crowd, but not enough to make a fool of yourself. You knew your tolerance and knew Rafe didn't like a messy girl.

At least, in public.

You caught his gaze a couple of times, flashing a flirtatious smile over your shoulders, but never lingered longer than three seconds. Rafe can't know how easy he can have you, because Rafe, like most boys, loves a chase. You're not easy, you're spoiled. He had to come to you.

And he did.

Rafe tried to introduce himself on several occasions. On those nights when you're leaving early—as planned—Rafe would cut to the door to pay a parting remark. "You're leaving so soon?" he would ask, "Alone? Again?" He would add. You always told him it was because no one caught your eye, and Rafe took that as a personal challenge. He would then try to tell you his name, as if he were different, to which you nod—detached—as if it didn't matter.

It drove him insane.

Because you didn't offer the same courtesy. You kept him guessing. He had to finally ask around to learn your name, which he would use to tease you the next time he saw you. And he did. And you laughed. But you acted like you didn't care. Like all the trouble he went through didn't prove a thing. That's when Rafe knew he needed you.

Tonight's no different. Just as you're about to leave, Rafe catches you with another smooth pick-up line. You just giggle. He studies how your eyes crinkle with amusement, the curve of your lips painted in his favorite shade of lipstick, and the lithe tilt of your head to the side as you ask him with your gaze, is that the best you got?

It isn't. But Rafe's determined to get further with you tonight. He continues to talk, asking about which men disappointed you and the reasons for your constant disappearances from these parties. And, for once, you're answering his questions with little resistance. Perhaps, it's because of the amount of cheap wines you consumed, or maybe you—for once—are tired of the games and want it to come to a fruitful end. Because when Rafe finally asks to take you home, you don't say no.

The walk to his truck is brisk. His arm wrapped around your waist, directing your path, while his fingers trail over the backless cut of your dress, producing a buzzing feeling beneath your skin. He's whispering something in your ear, but all of it is incomprehensible as you revel in the feeling of his touch and his touch alone. The feeling of your game coming to a conclusion.

And, just as you're about to reach the car, Rafe slams you into the side of the vehicle with a searing kiss.

His mouth catches yours and everything feels perfect. As if the buildup leading to this precise moment had been worth it, and every needy emotion rises to the top. His hand travels down the length of your body, to your hips, pulling you closer, and needing to eliminate all the space and wait you made him do.

Rafe's movements are swift and controlled. One of his hands props open the backdoor of his car, pushing you inside, and laying you against his leather seats. All without breaking the kiss.

"You don't know how long I wanted this, wanted you," Rafe blubbers between wet kisses. "Seeing you at every party, in these tiny dresses, not being able to touch," he rasps, bundling the hem of your dress into a tight fist. "Tell me you wear them for me."

"And if I did?" You say with a moan, tipping your head back to grant him access to your neck. "Did you like them?"

"Of course I did," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, the vibration of his words sending heat straight to your core. "You dressing up for me like my own perfect doll."

You want to retort that it's him who's in the palm of your hand, but Rafe sucks on a sensitive spot, causing your eyes to roll back and a whimper to escape your lips instead. He grabs your wrists with one hand, throwing them over his shoulder as he pulls you flush against his chest.

"So pretty, so fucking untouchable," Rafe kisses down the length of your throat, his fingers collecting the spaghetti straps of your dress before sliding it down the slope of your shoulders. "I'm going to fuck you so good."

His words snap you out of your haze. And while Rafe continues to expose more of your body, lamenting each reveal of flesh with a kiss, you withdraw enough to grab his attention.

"You're not fucking me in a car."

"What?" Rafe breaths, unable to snap out of the trace you had him in. Delirious with want, his mind warped around the idea of you being so close to attainable, that all rational manners left his system. He tries to kiss you again, to resume the moment, but you pull enough to send him a deadly glare, pouty and spoiled.

"Rafe, take me somewhere nice or we're not fucking at all."

He can't believe what he's hearing. He can't believe he's contemplating it. But Rafe doesn't understand that you have it all planned out to result in a perfect moment. You won't let it be disrupted just because Rafe can't drive the extra mile to take you somewhere nice. You'd rather leave him with blue balls.

"Are you serious?" He asks slowly, his eyes drawn to your swollen lips, the little pout, and the desperation to have them back on his. Sure, Rafe's had girls who wanted something more than a casual fling. He had them ask him for a better spot, but he never obliged. He never cared. But you're different. He wants you, and it's been a hell of a chase to get you here. He'll be damned if he lets it slip away because of a pretentious standard.

"Does it look like I'm joking?" You cross your arms over your chest, pushing your breasts further up. He nearly groans at the sight. "We're not having sex here."

"The nearest place has to be at least a fifteen-minute drive," Rafe argues. And it makes you upset, brows pinched together. "We can just—"

"I don't care," you snap. "Take me somewhere nice or I'm leaving."

You're serious. He sees it on your face. Rafe can't risk that, despite wanting to protest, because he knows he if he messes this up, he won't have another chance. Swearing under his breath, he drags himself out of the backseat and into the driver's side, pulling the car out of the parking lot.

Dangerously, Rafe speeds down the road, while you're sitting in the backseat with a self-satisfied demeanor, fixing your makeup through the rearview mirror. Occasionally, Rafe spares a glance through the same reflection, connecting with your gaze, and while there's subtle bitterness coiled in his chest, he recognizes the bigger prize at hand.

And what he can do with it.

Because, despite your bratty attitude, Rafe is a person who wants control. You want perfection. You two can have both.

That's how you find yourself in a newly-booked penthouse suite at one of the bougie hotels in Kildare, your head digging into the soft comforter of the bed, your ass in the air, as Rafe drills into you from behind.

When you reached the room, everything moved frantically. Rafe slammed you against the nearest wall to kiss you again—needing your lips, needing your taste—while his hands roamed over your dress and pulled down your cleavage, revealing your tits. Your hands wandered down his pants, unbuttoning them hurriedly, needily, and he assisted you by pulling them off alongside his boxers. His cock was big, slightly red with a pearly bead of pre-cum that rolls off the tip. And you could tell by the look on Rafe's face that he wanted you to suck it.

But you told him, "I don't do blowjobs."

So fucking pretentious.

It didn't matter. He hauled you over to the king-sized bed and pushed you onto the mattress. You landed with a soft thump, while Rafe hauled you up to your ass, pushing up your dress, until it became nothing but a bundle around your waist. His movements were urgent, and he wanted—no, needed—to be inside you because a bratty girl was going to be a great fuck.

And he was right.

You're perfect. The way you wrap around him, the way he sinks inside you. He doesn't know if it's because of the delirium of wanting you so desperately, of chasing you for so long—but he never had better pussy. And it doesn't help that your moans are sweet, breathy, and loud—begging him to go faster.

"Such a pretentious brat," Rafe grabs your throat, hauling you upwards till your spine rest on his chest, airway constricted by his harsh grip. "Making me wait this fucking long."

"R—Rafe," you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your skull at the way he's angling his cock deep into your cervix, bullying the sensitive spot over and over again until you're seeing stars.

"Had to get the princess treatment, did you?" He murmurs hotly into your ear, nibbling a spot on your neck as you rest the back of your head on his shoulder. His thrusts grow more erratic. "Had to make me earn you, didn't you?"

"You weren't going to fuck me in a car," you persist, and despite how cockdrunk you became, and how much of an attitude you're willing to sacrifice to feel good, you were still adamant about receiving what you deemed enough. He respected that. "I'm not one of your whores."

"But I'm fucking you like my own personal slut. Is that any better?" He bites the lobe of your ear, and his other hand wanders up to grab a handful of your breast, squeezing the fat before rolling your perked nipple between his fingers. You moan louder. "What does that make you?"

You can't seem to answer him, can't seem to find your senses. The words Rafe uses are vulgar, but there’s still no regrets about this entire thing. Rafe wanted you so badly, that he was willing to spend hundreds of dollars on a hotel he probably won't even stay the night in. All because you demanded it.

You win.

"Shut up," you stammer, your stomach tightening. "Shut up and just fuck me, Rafe."

Rafe grins. The hand playing with your tits slips between your thighs to assist, finding your clit easily as he rubs it with his thumb in sync with his thrusts. Breathy moans escape you as you arch into his palm, while he pistons deeper inside of you, bottoming out.

"You sound so pretty, doll," Rafe murmurs against your heated skin, "Come on, take my fucking cock."

Everything’s so dirty. The way he handles you, the way your wetness drips down your thighs, the way his words breathe onto your skin and tighten your core. But you love it. You do, but you're not willing to give in so easily. No matter how good it feels. No matter how much he feels like a prize.

"You don't deserve me." You whisper with a mewl, body tightening with the familiar wave of your undoing.

Yet, Rafe merely grins.

"But you're sucking in my cock like you need me," Rafe taunts, pleasure coursing through his body at the way your walls grip him in a vice. The way your words spark challenge and invitation. He knows, despite your spoiled attitude and pretentious demands, he'll do anything to get another chance like this. "Now, behave like a good girl or you're not coming tonight."

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tagging @starkeysprincess bc she saw it first <3

[supportgaza]

From Gaza to Ireland: Out of the Fire of War to the Fire of Soul-Crushing Survival Guilt and Fear for my Family

Note: My main account (@mahmoudkhalafff) was unfortunately terminated by Tumblr for no reason. This is my back up account. Please continue to boost my campaign. We are too close!

At times of peace, having to be away from your family for months and years is a high price you pay for obtaining an academic degree or securing a better job. Imagine while you are away, they were trapped in a besieged strip of land and thousands of missiles rained down on that besieged area of 360 km² around the clock for almost 11 months. That would crush every cell of your mind and drive you crazy, wouldn't it?!

Imagine suddenly getting addicted to watching the news and the gory videos and pictures all the freaking time. You follow relevant social media pages that only show images, videos, and stories of entire families that were wiped out in an instant in an airstrike and deemed as collateral insignificant damage. While plunging deeper and deeper into an unprecedented state of acute depression, I wondered: how come all my suffering from displacement, fear, and hunger in Gaza for 5 months during the war before being evacuated to Ireland is nothing but a drop compared to my ocean of suffering now?

The constant thinking of my family in Gaza during the genocide and all the potential scenarios is consuming my sanity and mental health at a time in my life and a place where I am required to be 199% focused and productive. To give you a glimpse of my horrible psychological suffering these days: I fear going to sleep because I know horrible horrible nightmares are waiting for me on the other side. Some have to do with the horrors of wars I witnessed in Gaza myself and others relate to the horrible potential scenarios I keep thinking about.

Seeing the images and pictures of Gaza makes you think a thousand earthquakes hit every neighborhood of the Gaza Strip! Nothing and no one has been spared. The horrific war has turned the place into a hell on earth, unfortunately. How can young people have any hope for a better future seeing the mass destruction and the relentless Israeli efforts to stifle Gaza and squeeze hope out of its people as a form of collective punishment. How monstrous and heartless!!!

Amid all this chaos and madness, my number one priority and focus is evacuating my family to Egypt as a first step and hopefully reuniting with them in Ireland at a later stage.

Please do consider helping me save my family by donating, reblogging, and sharing.

Note: Vetted by:

1. @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi # 151 on the spreadsheet of Vetted Gaza Fundraisers List]

2. @riding-with-the-wild-hunt Here .

Tagging for reach <3

@riding-with-the-wild-hunt @ibtisams @vakarians-babe @90-ghost @sayruq @fairuzfan @sar-soor @fallahifag

@el-shab-hussein @taamarrud @humanvoicebox

@plomegranate @queerstudiesnatural @commissions4aid-international @nabulsi @stil-lindigo @soon-palestine @communistchilchuck @palestinegenocide @northgazaupdates2 @northgazaupdates @ghost-and-a-half @kyra45-helping-others @kyra45 @commissions4aid-international @feluka @appsa