#and i'm not willing enough to do anything about it

[edward-munson]

outrageous lingerie | E.M.

Summary: You buy an exceptional underwear and your friends are making a deal for your own benefit.

Warnings: smut (18+ MDNI), oral (m receiving), masturbation (m receiving), vibrator playing

Word count: 2.9k

"Oh, you're totally going to wear this at the camping!" Robin squealed cheerfully while you were sitting on Nancy's bed as she finished packing her bag.

"No, I'm definitely not wearing this!" You rebut her idea and look at Nancy, who holds an amused smile on her face "Nancy Wheeler..."

"What?" She lifts her hands in surrender, holding back her wish to laugh "I mean, it should be fun. Come on, let's make a deal. If you do this, we'll give you two hundred"

"Woah, wait" Robin chimes in "I admit I'm pretty curious and excited to see how this works, but I am not gonna pay that much just for her to wear vibrating panties!"

You glare at her for being too loud and she shrinks back to sitting on the bed. And as this conversation wasn't embarrassing enough, Eddie seemed to have heard your commotion as he passed by Mike's bedroom. He halted in his tracks, walking backwards, stopping right in front of her door. You all snap your heads towards the curly haired man, who's mischievously grinning.

"Vibrating panties?" He asks and you throw them both a death stare "I'm in. How much are we talking about?"

"We" You interrupt "Are not doing anything"

"Please! I mean, the worst thing that can happen is for you to come in your pants" Robin stands next to you, snaking an arm around your shoulders "And you're making money out of it"

Eddie eagerly crosses his arms behind his back, still smiling at you as you roll your eyes in annoyance "Can I do it?"

"No"

"Please?" He begs.

"No"

"Then why did you even buy it?" Nancy asks, wriggling her eyebrows. She knew why you were willing to bring the piece of fabric to the camping. She was the one you went for help.

"Yeah, honey. Why not make good use of it since you spent your sweet money on that?" Eddie tries to convince you, but he's only making it rather worse.

"First of all, you were not supposed to hear this conversation. It's a girl talk" You shove your pointer finger on his chest and he snorts at you "And second, I wanted to do an experiment. I only asked Nancy if she had ever done it, but Robin is nosy as it is"

Your friend scoffs and pouts playfully "I am your best friend, you should've talked to me!"

"You're still a virgin, Buckley, no offense" You watch as she blushes and flips you off. "Okay, we're done with the conversation"

"How about we make it 50 each?" Eddie pressed.

Both girls shared a glance and agreed to his terms.

"Hey, this is not consensual. It's my underwear, you can't just force me to wear it!"

"It's good money, sweetie. We promise we won't tell Jonathan and Steve" Nancy goes back to finishing her bag.

"Yeah, because that wouldn't be the worst thing to ever happen"

"How would you even wear that out in the woods with all of us there anyway?" Eddie questions, confused with your idea.

"Nancy was going to help me and control the remote. Now, can we drop the conversation?"

But they didn't. Because now Eddie was curious why you picked Nancy to do that, when he could be the one just for the fun. But you bombed him with a pile of pillows, while he still mocked you and your idea. They still thought it would be a good idea if he did it and wouldn't shut up about it. Until you arrived at the far forest out of Hawkins. The place was peaceful and perfect for the moment, considering it wasn't cold nor was it hot. There was a wooden table by the lake, and there was enough space for your tent. You and Robin were sharing a tent, while Jonathan and Nancy would be sleeping together, but Eddie wanted to sleep in his own tent, leaving Steve out.

The entire day, while you were all enjoying the warm lake swimming and playing chicken, Eddie couldn't stop looking at you. He was being a dork and joking, yes, but he wasn't stupid. He couldn't stop thinking how it would happen if you wore the panties, and what you would look like wearing them. And it wasn't helping that you were wearing a nice matching bikini set, the bottom of it only being supported by the tied straps on the side.

You and Eddie were pretty close, intimate enough to make jokes of the kind, and even giving each other advice about sex life. Not that you actually needed them, and it's also not like you knew everything, but he was more inexperienced than you. He hadn't slept with many girls before. Even though it might look like he's a nerdy virgin, he definitely knows how to practice the art of being a tease. He knows you like his tattoo, he always makes sure to leave them showing whenever he wears a t-shirt, or when he's shirtless, like today. He lies on the floor above a spreaded sheet, leaning against his elbows as he gets sunbathed.

You try to avoid looking at the way his body hair trails down his stomach, reaching the waistband of his swim shorts. You love the way his abs contract when he leans back and his biceps become more prominent. And the realization that he's going to be the one in charge of the remote for the toy is giving you a headache. You tried not to make it too obvious that something was going on, because as soon as you put it on after taking a shower, it's when the show begins.

"Okay, so" He shoots you a smile, but you don't see it as comforting in any way "I'll give you the signal when Robin finishes her shower. We sit down and make our plates. You're done eating, I'll start"

Eddie says it with such an amused look, it's frightening you. You know what you signed up for. Not exactly signed up for it, but you're starting to regret buying it.

He's expectantly waiting for you to finally leave the community bathroom, clasping the remote in the pocket of his jeans as he helps Jonathan cook the sausages. Steve and Nancy are setting the table while Robin is the last to shower. You're stalling for time as you crouch in front of your bag, getting up the courage to finally go outside and sit with them at the table.

The toy is already resting against your cunt, you're wearing a skirt, and it feels completely strange. It's not an uncomfortable sensation, but it's not pleasant either. And the fact you have never tried it before seems to be another reason for you to rip it off. But the money. Think of the money. You take a deep breath and leave your tent, seeing Robin getting to her seat. You sit beside her and watch Eddie sitting across from you. He seems unfazed, holding the cutlery with both hands as it makes you feel relieved. You serve yourself and start eating.

One smooth movement and Eddie pushes the button for the first pattern. There are, like, 11 of them. In a subtle movement, your legs squeeze shut and you snap your head at him for a second. He's still eating his dinner like nothing really happened, both hands on sight. You look to your side, Robin clearly distracted talking to Steve about whatever. Fine, that wasn't bad, you could take it.

Not one minute later, he pushes the button to the fifth pattern that sends rhythmic waves of vibration. This one pushes you a little off to the edge of your seat, and it doesn't stop. When you look up at him, he's not looking back. But he's holding a smirk on his face when he eats a small piece of his omelet. Your knees start to falter when he changes the setting and the pace increases to something you can't exactly control.

There's a small faint buzz under the table, but the parallel conversation and the low music overcome the sound of it. You try to avoid giving it your attention and turn to Nancy, who's talking with Eddie naturally. And when Steve mentions your name about your last trip to Chicago, there's a jolt vibration cursing through your folds in a painful way and you almost buckle your hips.

"We got lost after we left the zoo and it took us almost one hour to find the others. And Dustin almost started crying to you, remember?" He asks in the midst of a chuckle and you force a laugh out.

You're going to fucking kill Eddie. He was not supposed to be doing this before you were finished eating. You swing one leg on top of the other to prevent the toy from continuing buzzing, but it's no use.

"He was so scared we wouldn't find them. And he gave Jonathan the biggest hug I've ev–" Your voice cracks all of a sudden and you glare at Eddie, who's seemingly enjoying your struggle. "God, I think it was a bug"

He snorts. Robin knows the reason behind your abruptness, but she's more discreet than he is. Steve resumes the conversation, not even noticing the way you sit uncomfortable. You can't stop shuffling on your seat, while Eddie keeps changing the patterns to whatever he wants. It doesn't get any better when you stop focusing on the conversations, feeling the waves of vibration tingling against your pussy. It becomes insufferable when you notice him glancing at you with a glint in his brown doe eyes, his head resting against his hand while the other hand stays under the table and he watches you.

You send him a knowing look and he smiles widely, pushing the button again and the same jolt wave hits your bundle of nerves. You squeal unwittingly and buckle upwards, the toy playing over your clit starts making you feel in complete shock from the sudden pleasure you're feeling. Your friends all look at you with creased brows and you send them a forced smile.

"Oh my God" You wince with the new patterned wave and force yourself up "I think this sausage is making me sick!"

You feel the lame excuse weighing over your shoulders when you leave the table, running out to the bathroom, screaming like there was really something wrong with the sausage. You lean over the sink, hands gripping the edge with shaking fingertips. Eddie doesn't really bother to turn it off even when you're not on the table, because the toy works from a good range and you hate it.

He stands by the doorframe, arms crossed against his chest and the same dirty smile on his face. You can see the remote against his palm and huff. "Can you give me a fucking break?"

"No can do, sweetie"

You shove him by the shoulders, walking past him as you round the community bathroom. There's a slight distance between the trees you're standing against and the table by the lake. They can't see or hear you.

"Where the hell are you going?" He asks as he follows behind, trying to catch up on you.

"To get my revenge"

"What-" You startle him as your hand flies down to his crotch and he stumbles back "The fuck are you doing?"

You slightly squeeze his bulge and Eddie lifts his head from his growing arousal to you, but he can only see your lopsided smile as a response.

"Okay, you wanna play that game?" He changes the pattern and the vibration sends you to a frenzy, your legs squeezing shut immediately.

"Eddie, please-"

"Yes, sweetheart?" His voice is almost a nagging, honeyed tone that he makes sure to use when you're this vulnerable.

"Eddie, I swear to God!" Your hands fumble with his belt, grazing the skin of his happy trail. He looks down at your fingers that quickly unzip his jeans and lower them.

He keeps pressing the buttons, changing the pace of the waves. You're in a mixture of pleasure and pain. The high and low of the toy makes you squirm.

"What the hell are you trying to do, sweetheart?" Eddie's voice drops an octave when you pull his boxer down and finally grip his cock tightly.

"Revenge" You respond with eyes locked on him. He immediately throws his head back and groans when you stroke him, but you freeze your movements and he snaps his eyes open. "See? Not so good when I do that, right?"

He wraps his hands around your fist and pulls you down to the grass with him, making you fall flat on his chest as he keeps his gaze at you. It only takes a second for you to forget the vibrator between your legs before you buckle your hips again. Your face is contorted and Eddie seems dumbfounded when he notices you're giving in to the game. He slowly holds your hand and slides it down to his aching cock again.

"Just... don't stop, okay?" He asks, uncertain. But you nod and start pumping him, using your thumb to collect his wetness, spreading the precum along his shaft. "Fuck, that's good sweetie"

He forgets the remote for a moment, relishing on your gentle fingers wrapping him up and down. His hips thrust upwards against your hand, losing his line of reasoning as he throbs into your hand. You rip him off his daze with a low moan, spreading your legs apart as you roll your hips against nothing.

Eddie presses another button and the vibration against your clit quickens, making you lightheaded, feeling your heart pounding against your chest. He's still fucking your hand absentmindedly, cursing through his teeth. You're both a mess of groans and whimpers, not even giving a shit about your friends.

"Eddie-" You feel the wetness of your pussy dripping down your ass, the fabric is soaking and you can't seem to be bothered about it.

"Ye- Yes, sweetie" He grunts when you squeeze his tip and stroke him up and down, rubbing your thumb over and back on the head of his cock "Oh fuck"

He hits the back of his head against the tree and changes the pattern in response to your movement. While you twist your hand around his length, you feel the jolt wave hit your swollen nub and it makes your arms become wobbly. You watch as he slowly starts to crumble down when you run your fingertips softly against his frenulum, flicking it from side to side.

Eddie knows he pushed the last pattern, meaning the jolt is three times more powerful and, thereafter, you're going to cum pretty soon. But he's in a shocked state when you suddenly dive your head down his slick cock, your mouth wrapping around his girth and your tongue savoring his taste. His hand rushes to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair.

You're in a blissful stupor of lust and you don't care. You and Eddie have been too close for like forever, and you don't think this would ruin your friendship. You feel too comfortable and safe and it's obvious how attractive he is. You bob your head up and down, sliding your mouth to the base of his cock, your throat almost swallowing his tip.

"Sweetheart, I'm gonna-" He hisses when you hollow your cheeks. And when he throbs inside your mouth, you feel your own apex building up in a twisting knot in your stomach. You only pull back to breathe and heave his name.

His hands are still tangled in your head, pulling you back only a few inches just so see him fucking your mouth. His eyes drift to your parted legs, your rolling hips and your glistening pussy that sparkles with the moonlight. Eddie hears you whimpering against his cock and praises you. He watches your belly contort and takes a sharp inhale when he sees you're finally coming. Your hips halt and you start to convulse under him, your legs immediately closing as you still cum in your panties.

You roll your tongue on the tip of his cock and suck him off, draining the life out of his body. It feels like there's something about to snap inside of him when you unconsciously push the panties to the side after your orgasm and you leave your glistening pussy exposed for him to see you. It's the uphold he needs to finally come undone. He spurts inside of your mouth, he forgets the remote was still clasped in his hand. That's the reason why you pulled the fabric to the side. You take all of him, using your tongue to overstimulate him and bring him to the edge of hysteria.

You pull back and lick your lips with his dick still on your hand, and you look up at him with hazy eyes. He's smiling at you lazily, his curls are messy and he feels the blood rushing through his veins as his head pounds.

"Shit, that was so... incredible" He pants. You help him pull his jeans up and he leans against the grass.

You're still exchanging glances. The staring doesn't make you blush, it makes you feel... eager. It makes you want to cling to him. He feels a shift between you two. You didn't seem to notice your skirt had ridden up. Neither had you seen your how wet and exposed your pussy was, but the sexual tension was still in the air and Eddie didn't give you time to recollect yourself when he caught you and latched his lips against yours.

Your first reaction was to cradle his face with both hands, his tongue sliding against yours in a feverish, but quick kiss. He slithered one hand down your waist and pulled your skirt down, squeezing your ass "We're not done yet, sweetheart. Can you meet me here later?"

You only nod, speechless at his sudden action towards you. He helps you up and you walk down the path leading to the tents, where you grab your bag and follow to the bathroom, finally getting rid of the soaked panties. Your legs are still shaking when you change it to a new underwear and clean yourself. You feel the headrush taking over you at the thought of meeting Eddie later.

He most definitely wasn't thinking when he gave the idea. He didn't know how it would end up and now, as he sits next to Jonathan while they smoked a joint, he can't stop thinking about fucking you senseless in your tight little skirt under the moonlight.

You're not even sure how your friends are going to react when they hear how the story turned out.

@kellyxo1 @sammybrrr @zafetycar @andvys @hellfire--cult @skeltnwrites @stevie-petey @ghost-proofbaby

[madewithsilk]

dealer!ellie with bimbo!reader 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

.ᐟ.ᐟ dealer!ellie that’s usually so sweet to you, treating you like a delicate princess who can't do anything by herself. She'll practically mansplain things to you, and when your head can't fathom anything, she'll simply chuckle and do it for you. That's how she likes it, keeping you dumb and dependent most of the time.

"What's wrong, ma', can't roll it right?" She chuckles, watching you struggle and try to roll a joint for her. She places her hands right over you, guiding yet watching you still miserably fail. "Jus' don' worry about it, lean back, 'kay?" Your little dumb nods fuel her even more.

.ᐟ.ᐟ dealer!ellie that likes keeping you high and floaty constantly to make you easier to deal with. There's very few times she'd prefer you at full force. Whether it be on a weekend that you're constantly nagging her or a day you're acting up and she wants you to be apologetic, she'll coerce you into finishing a whole joint by yourself.

“Yeah, mama? Feeling all nice n’ airy?” She whispers, kissing down your neck. Your eyes flutter, half-lidded and staring at Ellie. All that leaves your lips is mumbles and a nod. "Y-yea," Ellie simply chuckles, "Yeah, baby? Jus’ spread your legs a little wider for me?” Having you high and unaware is such easy access.

.ᐟ.ᐟ dealer!ellie that fucks you even more senseless than you already are. Strip you without any heads up, ram her strap into you, and give you a persistent pace to deal with. Or maybe she'll bend you over the counter when you're making something for her, eating you out from the back. It's slightly humiliating to be just a fuck toy for free use, but you're too dumb to even process that.

“Only good for taking my dick, huh, ma’?” She whispers, her fingers curling into your g-spot over and over again nonstop. You babble, manicured fingernails digging into her bicep, jaw going slack, little "uhn, ngh, fuckkk,"s leave your lips. Her words are always condescending with a bit of praise mixed in, she notices how much tighter you get when her insults are disguised as sweet words. "Fuckin' dumb on my cock, no wonder I love you so much,"

.ᐟ.ᐟ dealer!ellie that knows you're usually so fucking good for her, listening to her every word mindlessly with doe-eyes and a willing gaze because Ellie was just so sweet so how could you not behave! It always takes her by surprise when you don't behave, and she has to teach your little brain it's not nice to be bad. Maybe she's a little stern with her punishments, but she just wants to get it through your head! When you're both at a party, Ellie is far too busy dealing to give you any attention, and all you're doing is being bored by her side.

You huff a few times, grind against her thigh a few more, and after getting shut down each time with either a stern gaze or a "Be patient, baby. Don't make me repeat myself, 'kay?" while she doesn't even acknowledge your presence, counting her money, you finally get enough of it. You stand and walk away, ass swaying with the little miniskirt you wore, finding one of Ellie's closest friends, Abby.

Abby was attractive, that much was undeniable. But she wasn't the same as Ellie to you, yet you knew if you pretended, Ellie would still be ticked off. Your arms wrapped around Abby's neck, and Ellie's eyes darted over with a mean, mean stare. You finally got her attention, yet it wasn't the good type.

She dragged you out of there without any hesitation, hand-fisted in your hair, and a silent car drive till you both got home. It ended with you bent over her lap, squirming, crying, as she slapped your ass over and over again. “Embarrassing the fuck out of me at a party? Seriously, babe?” Your sobs and babbles were loud, spit drooling down your chin. "I'm sorry— said I was sorry!" You envisioned a different type of discipline, perhaps fucking you into the mattress, but this? Definitely not. "Too fuckin' bad, should've thought about this before you went to be a whore with Abby."

.ᐟ.ᐟ dealer!ellie who's possessive but in a bragging, show-off way. She'll pick out your outfits for you, bralette-like tops with miniskirts that expose your entire ass. She likes having people stare at what they'll never get.

She takes you to every dinner with her friends, right beside her in a booth, only speaking when spoken to with your tits out. Ellie will even play with your clit under the table for being so good to her. "Arm candy over there, Williams?" One of them will say, and you won't even think twice about the objectifying nature of the statement, merely happy you're seen as Ellie's.

[reptilian-rapscallian]

Right I usually only talk about the marauders but I need to talk about Dan and Phil for a second because the fan response to the livestream ticketing is ridiculous.

I'm going to quickly preface this by saying that yes, the hidden service charges were INSANE and unfair, but they've since stated that starting today they're going to do partial refunds and lower the prices so that they're balanced better. It's very clear that they didn't know about the service charges, and people suddenly trying to imply that it was a malicious decision are driving me up the wall.

Since that initial issue, people have taken it as an opportunity to not only be overly critical, but to just insult them???

Firstly, £12 as a starter price for a livestream ticket is reasonable. Literally every theatre livestream ticket I've ever seen has started at £16-£18 and gone up from there, so realistically this is a reasonable price!! Chances are they did their best to get it as low as they possibly could without losing money. Tours are fucking expensive, with most people who tour either making minimal money or breaking even (something not even that), and running under the assumption that they're absolutely LOADED when they've been very open about the fact that they've got a mortgage to pay is WILD. They need to make money to be able to make content!!

Also, the vast majority of their content is free. They have far more free and readily available content than most other influencers out there. People are acting like it's insane to briefly put the tour behind a paywall, like wad didn't get ads blocked STRAIGHT after it became free and readily available. Also, it's not just access to the tour that you're paying for? There's a preshow/'red carpet', and then an after-party q&a if you've opted for the £16 or any of the merch bundles. If you don't want to pay, the tour will STILL be available to you at some point, and I think it's wild to act like it's unfair that they need to make money? I'm sorry, but they need to be able to pay their bills.

One thing I feel like it's most important to acknowledge is that you're not being forced to buy it. People are acting like they were held at gunpoint and forced to check out with the service fees. If PayPal checked you out without showing you the service fees (which is a PayPal glitch, not an issue from Dan and Phil), then you can get a refund pretty easily. If not, you can email and chances are you'll get a refund (if you want the whole cost back and not just the service fees because those are getting automatically refunded). However, acting like you saw the service fees, had the money and checked out anyway, means that Dan and Phil forced you to do it is WILD. Dan making a joke with a fan about skipping work (in which they called their job one of the most important in the world) is NOT Dan forcing everybody to miss life events for the livestream and I'm so confused about why people are seeing it that way. You're not obligated to do anything, and being mad at Dan and Phil for releasing merch bundles at all after buying one is genuinely unfathomable to me as a thought process.

Also, acting like they're not taking it seriously enough when they're actively doing what people asked and resolving the issue is wild??? If they had released an overly professional "statement" you guys would have jumped to call them cold and uncaring. This was easily the best way they could have resolved the issue, and I'm genuinely so confused by everybody being so willing to insult Phil's response as if he didn't do EXACTLY what people wanted them to do??? Also being mad at them specifically for the merch not being available internationally (which is definitely an issue) is insane because they don't actually control the merch shipments??? Like why are they suddenly expected to change something that chances are they don't know how to change???

Suddenly jumping to insult them personally, or going out of your way to accuse them of being hyper-capitalists is uncalled for and just plain rude. It was this shit that kept me from taking part in the online communities pre-hiatus, and I'm genuinely really frustrated to see it coming back. Acting like they're the biggest depiction of capitalism is insane. Have you ever shopped at Amazon? Literally any major supermarket? Any name brand ever? They're bigger examples of submitting to a capitalist regime than Dan and Phil!! As much as we can all (rightfully) criticise our capitalist society, we all have to feed into it to survive because it's so deeply ingrained into our lives. They need to eat, they need to pay their bills, and they're doing their best to make it fun for their audience.

Yes, the hidden service fees were insane. Yes, the merch bundles not being available internationally is upsetting. However, they're literally doing everything in their power to fix it, and were clearly unaware of these things before the tickets went on sale.

There's a difference between rightfully pointing out issues and just insulting them personally and being really shit about them??? They haven't forced you to buy anything and they're resolving the issue. Calm tf down.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

The Miraculous fandom has some of the most creative people I know in it. I mean this, positive sense.

However that same talent becomes a problem when people cannot distinguish between a narrative beat and their own post-hoc justification.

The second is useful now and again when any sort of media misses a beat or takes a leap. ML fans carry the narrative on their backs.

It's telling that you have so many fanworks out there that are equally or more valid readings of the canon when they were published that have been completely obliterated by future development.

I'm not talking the wild takes. I'm not talking ML suddenly turning shonen, or coffee shop AU. I'm not even talking 'Adrien gets equal screen time.' Just 'with what we know, what comes next?' type fanfiction.

It's like canon is deliberately trying to dodge anything remotely predictable... but narrative beats are predictable for a reason. They work. They're good storytelling. A twist can be good storytelling, but only if it is better in every way then the not-twist.

You combine the shock-at-all-costs mentality with ML fandoms devotion and creativity and you get leaps of logic that would make a crypto seller blush. It ends up going downright unhealthy places at times.

I know their hearts are in the right place. I know they just care about the show they've sunk time and self into, but there are times you have to step back.

It doesn't mean you have to give up or turn away from the media. You just need to be willing to admit 'This episode/throughline/season/beat sucked'.

Then you hope it gets better.

Not doing this now and then is engaging in cult behavior.

(Post that spawned this ask)

I fully agree. People liking "bad" media doesn't bother me. What gets under my skin is people defending bad media. I'm in a book club and we all own that we like books that are objectively bad. We don't defend them as good, we just like the good parts enough to drown out the bad stuff. That's normal and fine. You don't have to limit yourself to perfect and pure art if such a thing even exists. I can name flaws in most of the things I like, I just think the good far outweighs the bad.

Miraculous is not some deep and complicated show that requires you to watch every episode. The writers have flat out said it is supposed to make sense even if you miss seemingly vital episodes. This means that trying to go the deep and nuanced route to explain the flaws doesn't work. This is a show for young children. It is supposed to be easy to follow. If it's not, then it has failed at its job! Little kids have no expectations to subvert. Shows like Miraculous are supposed to teach them how stories work so they can go on and watch more complex stuff when they're older. (For us adults, shows like Miraculous are supposed to be cute escapism that lets us feel like kids again.) If no one can possibly predict where a story is going next at a high level, then it's probably a bad story.

To be clear, I don't mean that every plot beat should be obvious. It's just that the longer a story goes, the more obvious things should feel as all the little elements of the story build and come together. This allows the audience to get excited about what's going to happen next and keeps them engaged. Stories where literally anything can happen no matter how little sense it makes aren't fun because you can't get invested in anything. I'll take a predictable ending over an impossible one any day.

A perfect example is the season three final. That final was all about Gabriel winning because he knew Chloe's identity. This is spelled out in the episode and the episode setup.

Miraculer set up:

Gabriel: Chloé Bourgeois must become Queen Bee again! Nathalie: Are you still considering making her an ally? I'm afraid Ladybug has grown reluctant to giving Chloé the Bee Miraculous. She's being very careful. Gabriel: Then I will get Chloé to force Ladybug to give it to her. All I need is for her to lose all hope in Ladybug. To become angry enough so I can akumatize her. (smirks evilly)

Ladybug: I'm sorry, Chloé. I should've told you this a long time ago. I might never be able to let you be Queen Bee again. Queen Bee: What? But I did everything you asked me to. Ladybug: I know. But this is for your own safety. It's too dangerous for you and your loved ones because Hawk Moth knows that you're Queen Bee.

Final pay off:

Hawk Moth: Try it and see for yourself. You're Ladybug's greatest fan. You've helped her, you've trusted her. And what has she done for you in return? Chloé: (gets angry) Nothing! She couldn't care less about me! I'm done with her. She's irrelevant, utterly irrelevant! (reaches out to grap the Miraculous, stops) I want you to de-akumatize has my parents first! Hawk Moth: Whatever you say, my queen. (Chloé takes the comb and puts it in her hair, releasing Pollen)

Since the final also includes every other temp hero being outed this should mean that season four will go on to have Ladybug and Chat Noir starting from scratch, but is that what happens?

Nope! The mass identity reveal means nothing and everything is fine to keep going as is. Chloé's identity reveal being a problem was a one-off fluke we don't need to think about.

There is no justification for that. You can decide that you're willing to let the flaw slide and keep watching, but there is no way to make this a good choice for the story. It was the start of the secret identities holding less and less weight to the point where a lot of people no longer care about the love square reveal because it's been so incredibly cheapened. Marinette keeping her identity from Chat Noir no longer makes sense when it was once pretty reasonable.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 87: Alexander's Reason

Previous > Masterlist tw: mind control, hypnotic induction

October 1925

"Excuse me, are you Oliver Pines?"

Oliver looked up at the nurse, a middle-aged woman with a kind smile. He knew that he must be puffy-eyed from crying. Hopefully she would assume it was due to the pain. "Yes, that's me."

"I wanted to speak with you. Quietly, if you don't mind." There was no real privacy in the ward, but she sat on the edge of the bed close to Oliver's face. Her fingers reached down to turn his head gently, and brushed against the scars on his neck.

She knew.

Terror and guilt flooded him. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize --"

"Shhh, keep your voice down. I'm not going to hurt you."

He thought he deserved it if she did, but did his best to quiet himself anyway, stifling his sobs like he was a boy again.

"You're one of theirs, aren't you? You belong to a vampire," she said in a hushed tone.

Oliver nodded.

"I thought so. I saw the puncture wounds noted in your file, and after what happened last night… did you hear?"

"I heard enough."

"Was that your master? The one who was in the hospital last night?"

"No, but… yes, in a way. He was here for me. It's my fault."

The nurse looked sympathetic. "I don't think anything those bastards did is your fault."

"How do you know about them? The vampires?"

"You're not the first patient we've seen with bite marks on the neck, and this isn't the first time those bastards have visited us, either. Not all the nurses believe, and the doctors won't listen to us, but I used to work the night shift. The night nurses know."

"Is there anything you can do?"

"I can call in the vampire hunters' guild. They'd probably be willing to station someone in the area tonight."

"No!" said Oliver, surprising the nurse. "The vampire hunters can't help."

"Sure they can. They're experts at --"

"No, they can't help me," Oliver insisted. "Not against this vampire. I was already with a hunter, and I think she might be -- gone. I don't think there's a hunter who can stand against him."

The nurse sucked in a breath. "You've gotten yourself in some real trouble, haven't you?"

"I'm sorry. If you gave me back to my master, I think --"

"We're not going to do that. You need care and rest. We're not just going to hand over one of our patients to a bloodsucker." She patted Oliver's shoulder. "I'll contact the guild and let them be the judge of whether or not they can handle it. With any luck, you'll be free, and there'll be one less monster in the world."

Oliver could tell he wasn't likely to dissuade her, but at the very least he could let the hunters know what they would be up against. "If you do talk to the guild, please tell them that it's the Maestro."

"The Maestro?"

"Yes, make sure you tell them that."

"All right. I will. You just focus on healing up, okay? Do you need any more medicine for the pain?"

"Yes, please," he said miserably. The medication would put him to sleep, and it would be better for him to sleep now than during the night, when he might need his wits about him. As the nurse left, he hoped that no hunter would be foolish enough to come, that they'd hear the Maestro's name and know to stay away. He didn't want another hunter dead or ensorcelled on his account.

He thought of Vivian. He wasn't sure if it was better if she were alive or dead. If the Maestro had found her, it might be more merciful if he decided a hunter was too much trouble to keep as a thrall.

Oliver, seemingly, would never be too much trouble.

---

Thanks mostly to some strong medication, Oliver spent the entire afternoon in and out of sleep that did not bring him rest, only truly waking to eat the bland meals he was given and answer a doctor's perfunctory questions. But as the sunlight through the windows turned golden and then red, his anxiety began to rise to a fever pitch.

He dearly hoped the Maestro would not visit him a second time. At some point, one of the nurses had picked up the rose from the floor and put it in a cup on his bedside table. Oliver didn't know how to explain how it was so hateful to him, so he was reminded of his terror every time he happened to glance to the right.

If any vampire were to come, he hoped it would be Alexander. He knew he should hate Alexander for putting him in this position, stalked by a sociopathic monster who thought nothing of casually killing an innocent woman. But another, treacherous part of him just wanted to go back. Back to a fogged and hazy mind, back to dulled pain and fear, back to a comfortable seat by the fire in the library where he could feel safe even though he wasn't. Despite having nothing to do for the past several days and nights but rest in bed, he was completely spent.

He thought of how gentle Alexander's voice and hands were as he lulled Oliver into a trance, how it felt for the vampire to wrap around him when it was time to sleep. If he were truly trapped, if he couldn't escape, at least he would have a warm and comfortable home to go back to. At least Alexander would treat him kindly. He was in need of a kind word and a gentle touch.

And then, there was the truth that ran just below the surface of his thoughts, the one that he'd been struggling with ever since Vivian had undone his enthrallment, the one that filled him with embarrassment.

Because the real truth, deep down in his heart, was that he had enjoyed being Alexander's thrall.

Of course he knew it was probably still the remnants of the spell at work. The effects of hypnosis that strong couldn't be easily undone. Knowing that his feelings may be artificial didn't stop them from consuming him, though.

Even back in the bookshop, one of his greatest joys was to help patrons with their requests, to feel useful. He had always loved being helpful. Alexander had made him feel like that all of the time, looking at Oliver as though he were something precious. He may have been treated like a plaything, but at least he'd been a wanted, cherished plaything. And most humiliating of all was how he'd been so quietly pleased when he was praised for being a good thrall, as if it were his life's calling, just like Lily had told him.

Oliver burned with shame to think of it. He'd insisted to Vivian that he wouldn't be one of those rescued thralls who went running back to the arms of a vampire, and even then he suspected he was lying to himself. Honestly, he'd looked forward to helping out Alexander a bit too much even when he was merely one of the bookshop's patrons, eager to assist a fellow book-lover. And now that he knew how lonely Alexander was, and how much he appreciated Oliver's company…

But no, he still couldn't trust Alexander, no matter how much he secretly wished he could. Alexander may not glory in torments the way his sire did, but he was still keeping Oliver a captive. And even though Alexander seemed to be a captive and victim of his sire, he had still enlisted his sire's help in finding Oliver. Otherwise, how else would the Maestro know to infect his mind with those specific nightmares at that specific time?

It seemed unlike him to willingly involve his sire in a situation that might see them both harshly punished. Perhaps there was an explanation, although Oliver doubted he'd get to hear it before he was ensnared once more. He hoped, at least, that Alexander wouldn't harm any hunters that might be near the library, and that he hadn't killed Vivian.

If only things could be different between them. If only he would listen to reason, and let Oliver keep his wits, and somehow free them both of the scourge of his sire. If only Oliver could simply enjoy the fond closeness and the vast library in peace, and perhaps see his bookshop again one day. If he could have those assurances, then he could be content to return to Alexander, regardless of how shameful a hunter like Vivian might find his condition.

The pain was beginning to return to his leg, the strong medication wearing off, when he first heard the strains of song. The sun had been fully down for half an hour, and Oliver's mounting dread gave way to a surprising relief as he heard the voice.

It was Alexander's song, of course, rich and enticing. He was being ensnared once more, but at least there might not be any more pain that night.

The melody grew in strength, and drowsiness stole over Oliver, his eyelids beginning to grow heavy and droop. He heard a symphony of yawns from around the ward as the other patients began to fall to the spell. Alexander was putting them all to sleep so that he could enter freely, no doubt, which would be a mercy to them -- a deep sleep free of pain. Oliver had no real desire to fight it, allowing his eyes to shut and his mind to drift off peacefully.

"You may slowly come awake, Oliver, but continue to feel no pain."

Oliver's eyes fluttered open. He was sitting partially upright, and Alexander was clutching him tightly, holding him as though he were a precious treasure to protect. The familiar scent of his soap surrounded Oliver as the vampire buried his face into Oliver's shoulder, which was growing damp with tears. And his injured leg felt as though it were far away, only connected to Oliver by the thinnest of strings, his focus sliding over it.

"I'm sorry," said Alexander, who sounded as though he were choking back a sob. "I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you and keep you safe. I was terribly worried about you."

He sounded so genuinely upset. Despite Emily's insistence that Alexander couldn't possibly care for him as more than a meal, Oliver couldn't bring himself to believe that. He sank fully into the comforting embrace, allowing himself to be absorbed into Alexander's arms.

Alexander pulled back slightly, and Oliver found himself looking into those deep eyes, like diving into an ocean. He was unable to look away, his memories of the mesmerism stirring in his heart, whispering to his mind that it would be so easy to lose himself in those eyes. It was only with herculean willpower that Oliver managed to blink and tear himself away.

"How is your injury?" Alexander asked.

"It's a severe knee fracture, the doctor said. They performed surgery on me when I first arrived." Oliver looked forlornly at his plaster-encrusted leg. "He said that I'll be in a wheelchair for a while, and might not ever walk without assistance again."

The fierce look in Alexander's eyes caught him off guard. "Then I'll have to take care of you in any way I can," he said. "I know that my manor isn't well equipped for it, but we'll make do. We can move your bedroom and bathroom to the first floor, rearrange the library so that you can navigate it more easily… I suppose I'll have to carry you up the stairs to my room when needed… and of course I'll have to arrange for a fine cane for you, for when you're well enough to stand. I'll get in touch with Edith, she'll know where to purchase wheelchairs and canes."

Oliver couldn't help but be relieved that the vampire was willing to try and care for him in this situation. Even though it wouldn't make sense for Alexander to abandon him, not after how much he'd paid and risked and how much he seemed to value his thrall, a small but significant part of Oliver had been quietly insisting that he was a burden now, not worth the trouble.

Alexander's gaze strayed toward the rose in the cup, and from the look on his face Oliver could tell that he instantly grasped the meeting. "My sire was here."

"He was," said Oliver tersely, suddenly reminded of the main reason he couldn't put his trust in Alexander. Somehow, Alexander's sire had learned where Oliver was.

"What did he do? Did he harm you?"

"He didn't harm me any worse than I had already been harmed," said Oliver. "Did you tell him where I was?"

Alexander groaned, and if the forlorn look on his face was an act, it was a very good one. "I wouldn't have told him anything if I had been given a choice. Surely you know that. He thinks that your capture makes me even more of an abject disappointment, and I'm sure he intends to punish me at his leisure. On top of that, I certainly didn't wish for him to torment you. Please believe that."

"Then how did he know?"

"The worst possible timing," said Alexander. "The night after you were captured, just as I had woken from the sleeping potion and was preparing to go out and find you, I had an unexpected and unwelcome visitor."

"Your sire."

"At the stroke of midnight, as always. He came to deliver an invitation, and he noticed right away that you weren't present."

"Couldn't you have told him I was asleep in my bedroom, or sick, or…"

"He can always tell when I'm lying," said Alexander miserably. "On top of that, he could tell you were missing by your smell, or lack thereof. He was furious, of course -- but for once, I feel like I deserve it, considering I failed to protect you. I know my words might not mean much, but I truly am sorry, and not just about that." Alexander gripped both of Oliver's hands earnestly. "I've failed in my duties towards you as your master, and I do intend to rectify that. I don't want us both to be trapped under my sire's thumb forever. I managed to apprehend the hunter --"

"Vivian!" said Oliver. "What have you done with her?"

"We haven't harmed her at all. She's with Lily now."

His heart sank, thinking of the strong, determined hunter, now helplessly under Lily's spell, perhaps even memory-wiped like Miriam. His mind traveled back to the time when Alexander had brought him to Lily's home, of the terrified man that Oliver had falsely reassured, how Lily thought nothing of dragging a man on a leash to be hypnotized. "I think she would consider becoming a thrall a fate worse than death. Isn't there any way you could let her go?"

"Lily will be very gentle with her. She seems quite well suited to being a thrall, despite how she might feel about it now," said Alexander easily, as though he weren't discussing condemning a woman to servitude. "And then, there's you." He touched Oliver's cheek, gazing into his eyes. "She lifted much of my spell on you, didn't she?"

There was no real point in denying it. "She did. She made me very keenly aware of my… situation. How I've effectively been captured and enslaved."

Alexander recoiled slightly at this, as though the thought had never occurred to him, and the look on his face almost made Oliver want to take back his words. "…Were you really so unhappy with me?" he said quietly.

Oliver looked away. "No. I wasn't unhappy."

He gripped Oliver's chin, drawing him in. "Then just let me --"

"Wait!" Oliver knew that any protest would be futile if Alexander desired to put him under again. As soon as he began to sing of obedience and loyalty, as soon as Oliver looked a little too long into those eyes, the struggle would be lost. But still, he had believed that Alexander could be reasoned with. He had to try. "Can't we talk about this first?"

"Oliver…" he said with a truly pathetic expression. "I know that this life isn't what you would have chosen, but…"

"You never gave me the chance to choose," he said. "You told me before, when you put me under your spell for the first time, that you wanted loyalty, and not obedience. But you never actually let me give you loyalty that wasn't coerced." Oliver wrung his hands in his blanket. "I know the position I'm in. I know that you have all the power over me, and that you could take my mind at any moment. I know that I have every reason to be angry with you… but I have nowhere to go, and no one to return to but you. And despite everything, the truth is that a part of me did miss you."

"You did?" said Alexander, latching onto that one statement as though it was the only part he cared about.

"What I'm trying to say is, I would go with you willingly. You don't need to ensorcel my mind. I won't try to escape -- as though I even could. You have my word." Olive was all too aware that he had no actual leverage, and that this was the only card he could play.

"You…" Alexander was clearly having trouble processing this. "You wish to stay and serve me without being enthralled?"

"I do," he said firmly. "I'm offering you my service of my own free will, or what remains of it."

"But why would you want that? You won't be happy," said Alexander.

"I think I could be happy in your manor, even without being ensorcelled into false bliss," said Oliver. "But I also think, perhaps, that keeping my mind at least somewhat intact is more important to me than being made happy. I suppose my mind is really all I have, now more than ever. I want to feel things. I want to have choices, even if I still choose to serve you. I want to think."

Alexander took a long time before responding. "I was much younger than you, when I was taken," he said finally. "I was still in my schooling, throwing all of my time and energy into music, which I loved more than anything. I had a family and friends. I had a future."

Oliver's breath stilled. He'd never considered that the vampire must have once been human. He was surprised that Alexander even remembered what it was like, so long ago.

"I hated my master -- who became my sire -- more than words can say. He stole me away from everything and everyone I loved. But unlike me, he rarely touched his thrall's minds."

"He didn't hypnotize you?"

"No. He conditioned me to obedience in much harsher ways. He did nothing to dull my mind of the pain and the grief. I spent years in misery, losing all hope, and then he killed me and made me into his kind, so that I could inflict the same suffering on others." Alexander's eyes were rimmed with tears when he looked back up at Oliver. "My master never showed me mercy. I want to give you mercy."

"Mercy?"

"I know it's selfish. I know I tore you out of the life you had. I know I'm keeping you a captive. But even still… even with everything I've done… I can't bear for you to hate me," he said. "That's one reason why I can't free your mind, Oliver. Because I don't want you to despise me the way I despise my sire, and the only way to do that is to bend your thoughts towards contentment. It's the best I can do for you."

Oliver leaned back in his hospital bed. "I don't hate you, Alexander."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I thought that I should, given what you've done to me, how you've put me in terrible danger. But I still don't." Oliver sighed. "At the end of the day, perhaps it's because I've been dreadfully lonely, too, with only books as my freedom. Maybe Lily was right all along, and I really am just well suited for serving a vampire. Maybe I just enjoyed having someone care for me, even if it was an illusion."

"It's not an illusion," said Alexander firmly. "I do care for you. You're the only thing that's brought me any real joy since Fitz left."

"I want to believe that, but it hurt me, when your sire was tormenting me and you did nothing in my defense. Even if there's nothing you could have done, I --"

Alexander was looking truly miserable now. "No, you're right. I know full well that I need to find a way to keep you out of his clutches, and not fail you the way I failed my dear Fitz." He sighed. "Because he is my sire, he can compel me to his wishes as easily as he can compel you. So any resistance I offer must be carefully considered, lest it bear no fruit but punishment."

"I understand," he said reluctantly.

"The last time I truly stood up to him -- he took Fitz, and he tortured us both. I don't want that to happen to you. That's why I must obey him until I have a solid plan. Rushing and failing would be a surefire way to expose you to immense harm." He stroked Oliver's cheek fondly. "And if I do fail, I want you to have the chance to escape."

Oliver nodded. As terrified as he was of the Maestro, Alexander was right that confronting him must be done carefully.

"You're an ideal thrall, Oliver," said Alexander, gently stroking the side of his face, and Oliver couldn't help but lean into the touch. "I had gone so long without a good thrall that it was taking all of my restraint to not capture and ensorcel any decent smelling person on the street, much less a prize like you."

"But you don't have to do that. You don't have to ensorcel me."

"I could never be around you and restrain myself. It was difficult enough when I visited your shop. Now, that I know the sort of thrall you are, it would be unbearable torture."

"You could still have my blood, if you needed," said Oliver desperately, not wanting to think about how enjoyable the feedings had seemed before Vivian pulled him back to his senses.

"Your blood is only a fraction of what makes you desirable." A predatory look was in his eye, and Oliver was pinned by his gaze. "It's the way your eyes fog over when you're falling under my spell, the way you sway in a daze, the smile on your face when you're deep in entranced sleep, how you call me 'sir.' I've only seen one other human fall to me so beautifully. That sensation, the power I can hold over you, how effortlessly you drop into docile bliss… that's worth an ocean of blood."

Oliver's mouth went dry. He had been right that Alexander truly did care about him -- but when he suggested Alexander could be reasoned with, he'd been wrong, so wrong. He wasn't merely interested in Oliver's blood or his companionship. He wanted Oliver's mind and soul under his sway, and the hunger on his face made it clear that no compromise would be possible.

"I don't want to be enthralled to the point where I lose my memory and my wits become dull and sluggish," Oliver protested. He at least had to try.

"I won't do that to you. I enjoy your wits."

"I also don't want you to compel me into obedience if we disagree, or drag you to Lily if my thoughts become inconvenient."

"I'm not doing this to harm you," said Alexander with a kind tone that contrasted with his argument. "It's what's best for you as a thrall. You won't suffer. I can give you anything you need. I can make you happy."

Oliver swallowed. "You try to compel me to happiness, even when we're both being stalked by a monster who delights in torture. I don't want to be happy. I want to have my wits about me."

"And I owe it to you, and to myself, and especially to my dear Fitz, to be rid of him once and for all," said Alexander. "Until then, I will continue to relieve your pain, and ease a bit of my own in the bargain." He directed Oliver to look into his eyes, those sharp blue eyes as deep as the ocean and as treacherous.

"Please, Alexander," said Oliver, barely managing to look away.

"Shhh. It's all right, Oliver. It will be all right. I'll help you forget your pain and your fear." And he took Oliver's face into his hands and sang, his deep and melancholy voice echoing across the hospital ward. It was a deeply soothing sound, full of relaxation and peace and the quiet calm of servitude, and despite his feeble effort at resistance, Oliver's mind was being lulled away effortlessly.

"Please…"

"Quiet now, Oliver. You have nothing to fear, nothing to struggle against, only sleep. Deep, sweet sleep, where you can be so quiet and listen."

He wanted so badly to rest in those eyes, to forget why he was fighting. Oliver was leaning forward, eyelids fluttering, sleepwalking back to his doom. It was all too familiar.

"You're an excellent thrall, so quiet and docile and perfect for me, just for me."

"…Thank you, sir."

"You can sleep, now, a sleep free of pain, and know that I will return each night to sing your pain away. I promise you that. I won't leave you alone and in pain in this dreadful place. But for now, I want you to return to me. Remember your enthrallment, your deep and docile obedience, and return to me, your master."

Oliver nodded, drifting away, his mind falling back into the depths so easily, so naturally, right back where he belonged, a book slotted into his proper place on the shelf.

Previous > Masterlist

This chapter took me SO LONG to write, with three rewrites along the way! It's an extra long one, so I hope you enjoy! I'm going to get back to answering asks as well... Next week (hopefully): Fitz and the Maestro are getting along very well.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@vampiresprite @irregular-book @whumpsoda @und3ad-mutt

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

@typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia

@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@enigmawriteswhump @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

@cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

@strawbearydreams @ghost-whump @tippytappytyping @natthebatt @fire-bugg14

[confusedhummingbird]

I don’t understand when I see people saying that DickKory was toxic. Like, Dick was more reserved at first, but during their relationship, he learned to open up precisely because of the sense of freedom Kory gave him, and that was what he loved most about her. And then when I look at DickBabs, there are panels where Babs watches Dick through cameras and gets jealous when other women get close to him. Like, if DickKory is toxic, then what is DickBabs?

Yeah the only real toxicity I see is his behavior on Tamaran when Kory was getting married (Which he was literally under mind control by Brother Blood) but they talked that over and worked past it.

I've seen people say that Dick is controlling of Kory. But the only thing he really tries to change from her is her being willing to kill. And I'm sorry if she's gonna be a hero on Earth she can't kill. Not only because it's illegal but it would reflect badly on all the Titans and honestly tell me would you feel safe with an alien who says she's a hero but will kill whoever she deems as a serious enough threat. I'd be terrified. Dick only wanted her to not kill (Also probably wear clothes when in public but again that's a legal issue anyway even without his personal feelings) anything else she wanted to do she could do. She was literally a super star model who canonically did nude shoots before (And not just Mirage disguised as her she states she's done them before on her terms) One of the things Dick admires most about Kory is her freedom, why would he try to control that freedom if he admired it so much?

Plus even if you see that as an issue Dick even admits himself he may have been wrong (I don't think he was but still a good panel either way)

Were Dick and Kory perfect? No of course not. No couple real or fictional is perfect. But they were a couple who were honestly pretty healthy they listened and communicated. When they had issues they talked them out because they love each other and wanted to be together and work their issues out.

[jaxrants]

So like, hi again

Anyways, I'm having even more trouble (surprise surprise) but this time it's money related

I'm broke asf, my mom and nanna both refuse to take me to get my learners so I can get my license soon and get a job. I literally have like maybe 35 cents to my name. Anyways, not only that, but my mom owes me over 50 bucks, was meant to be paying me for babysitting my sisters (anytime I ask about it, she just says that I don't do enough to deserve to be payed)

Anyways, I was thinking of opening my commissions again (I say as if I ever closed them) but only for art. I can't do full bodys (on my own anyways, I would need a reference of some kind) I can only really do headshots and I'm not good with side profiles.

I'm better with traditional art rather than digital art, however I am willing to attempt digital again.

I don't even think anyone would really be interested, but I figured I'd make a post anyways just to see.

If even one person is so much as slightly interested just lmk and I'll make a post with a little bit of my art and stuff along with prices.

To the people I'm tagging, I'm not expecting anything from y'all except maybe to reblog this, but even then, I'm not forcing :3

@luciluck2046 @blooming-skeleton @beecha @meadows-the-puppet @purpleeggyboi @caretaleandotherstuff @evry1h8s-me

[pricesprincess]

Hi! I was wondering if you were willing to write for Price using prompt #5 from list 2? Thank you! 🥰

18+ mdni - prompts

hello! this was so much fun to write! thank you for sending one in! 🥰

tags: fem reader with a bush + explicit smut + I gave him a domesticity/housewife kink whatever you wanna call it lmao

Heat came in waves, taking away the sweet spring air, turning the days into a muggy nightmare, suffocating everything in a heat that made it hard to breathe and caused you to sweat when you stepped outside, but at least it gave you an excuse to buy new swimsuits.

John handed you his card when you told him that you were going shopping for the upcoming vacation you both had planned. It was a weekend getaway at a hotel—nothing fancy. Still, it was where you two could focus on each other, ignoring everything and everyone.

You knew that your husband got a hard-on anytime he knew he was taking real good care of you, judging by that smile that curled your lips and the way you smothered him in sweet honey kisses.

Paperwork kept him tied to his desk at home, going over the monthly bills, something he never wanted you to worry your pretty little head about but he'd never stop you from getting a job if you wanted it.

It didn't take long for you to grab a few bathing suits, cover ups, and a sundress you knew would rile John up. One was skimpy, the fabric barely covering anything, and that would be the first one you would show off. It made you flush thinking about his reaction.

Twenty minutes after swiping the card, you slipped into the tobacco shop to pick out a few cigars for John before your car was pulling up into the driveway, your fingers clutching the bags when you got out.

Excitement fizzled in your veins as you hurried inside, shutting the door with your foot calling out to John. "Honey, I'm home!" You giggled hearing his footsteps from upstairs to greet you.

John always said that when he came home and you picked up on it quickly. "Get everythin' you needed luv?" He asked with a slight hum looking at the the bags in your hand. You nodded and wrapped one arm around his waist to nuzzle your face into him inhaling deeply.

"Yes, and more, sit on the couch for me please baby. I have something to show you." John let you gently push him toward the living room watching him plop down on the middle of the couch.

He leaned back, spreading his legs tapping his knee. "What are you up to?" He drawled in that thick accent that made you ache. Your giggles filled the air as you walked into the kitchen to shed your clothes letting it pool at your ankles before pulling out the first suit.

This one was the tamest of them all, a one piece that had your tits pressed together and hugged your curves. Once the straps were in place you grabbed the box of cigars and poked your head out.

"Shut your eyes please!" You sang hearing John chuckle before you tip-toed out to the living room to stand close to him. "Open."

You could feel the heat licking down your spine and pool in your tummy as John's eyes assessed you, starting from your flustered face to your pedicured toes. "Turn for me darlin', let me see."

You giggled and obeyed turning around with a twirl then you placed the box of cigars on his knee with a wink. "I have a few more, didn't know which one was the best for our vacation. Do you like?"

John rubbed at his beard, his heavy eyes on you making you shift. "Like? No, lovie. You look stunnin', good enough to eat." His praise made your skin burst with heat as you giggled and hurried to the kitchen stripping once more to pull on the skimpy bathing suit.

The other suits would have to be shown off later because if John thought the one piece was stunning? This one was sure to have his jaw on the floor, the cool air from the ac made you shiver before stepping out into the living room again humming John's name.

"Bloody hell, you're goin' to kill me." He muttered, his eyes latched onto the way your tits jiggled, the thin fabric barely hiding the stiff peak of our nipple and the pubic hair peaking from the sides of the bottom of your suit making his cock twitch in his pants.

You stepped closer, swaying your hips until you perched on his knee, your hands resting on his lower stomach watching the way he unashamedly checked you out like it was his first time seeing you.

His rough fingers grazed over your soft belly hearing how your breath hitched just from his touch then his mouth was on yours and he was shifting you to straddle him feeling the bulge of his dick throbbing against the thin material covering your slick pussy.

You leaned forward wrapping your arms around his neck, your tongue glided against his before twirling them together as his fingers played with the ends of the ties before slowly tugging letting your top fall loose, your tits bare and your stiff nipples brush against his shirt.

John's breath fanned against your neck as his tongue traced your erratic pulse chuckling when you gasped, your fingers curled into his shirt humping him, your clit aching to be played with, licked, sucked.

"My dirty girl, wearin' practically nothin' on our vacation, desperate for some attention?" He rasped, mocking you knowing how it gets your cunt dripping wet for him, you rolled your eyes playfully and shrugged as you leaned in and kissed him, nipping his bottom lip.

The space between you grew hotter as your breaths mingled together, his fingers tracing your nipples before pinching them making you squeal and hump him again, your hips working to find your orgasm but John grasped your hips stopping you.

You opened your mouth to say something but John had shifted and pinned you under him, your legs wrapping around his waist while he flipped your bathing suit top to bare your tits to his greedy gaze.

John stared at you, his hand roaming your stomach and chest watching you squirm and giggle. "Needy and responsive, I'm one lucky bastard." He rasped, his fingers trailing down to the hem of your bottoms barely sliding in to graze against the slick making his fingers sticky.

"Fuckin' drippin' for me." He sighed letting his fingers dip lower until he was rubbing your clit making you moan and hips to roll.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

[butmakeitgayblog]

MBFW First Kiss snippet for Clexaweek

~~~~~~~~

The dorm bed they share is barely big enough for one, nestled tight against the wall and tucked under a single poorly hung shelf that Lexa can't seem to stop knocking her head against every time she goes to leave. 

It's a dilemma they both take as a sign that she really just… shouldn't do that anymore. 

"This is so fucking stupid, I don't even need to know this."

The groaned complaint makes her smile.

"According to the requirements of your degree, you do actually."

"Don't sass me. Who made up those requirements? Hm? Who?"

Marking her place on the page with a tiny dot of lime green highlighter, Lexa turns her gaze to the petulant frown staring at her from roughly fifteen inches away.

She eyes the way Clarke has dramatically collapsed against the evil calculus textbook in question, cheek smooshed against the pages and arms flung out above her head to dangle off the foot of the bed.

Lexa's heart trips over itself.

She finds that's been happening more and more in the recent weeks since this friendship had blossomed and subsequently taken over every facet of her life. Since this girl came crashing in out of nowhere; as if plucked from the very stars and sent right to her, to become the source of every one of Lexa's smiles.

Since she'd blazed into existence, and lit up the world with a brightness that somehow outdid the sun.

It's a feeling that's becoming harder to shake off.

"Clarke, we've been studying for… fifteen minutes," Lexa laughs after reaching over and lifting the dead weight of Clarke's wrist enough to check her watch. "Have you even gotten past the first page of the chapter?"

Clarke's head twists to bury her face further into the crease of the spine of her splayed open textbook as she answers a muffled, "No."

Pinching her lips together to smother yet another smile that threatens to double in size, Lexa clears her throat and pointedly readjusts to get more comfortable and resume her own assigned reading. 

She's barely gotten her train of thought back into the flow of Chaucer's affinity for iambic pentameter when the sound of rustling papers breaks the silence, and the overwhelming feeling of a certain pair of eyes boring into the side of her head steals her concentration.

It's feeling she's been getting quite familiar with as of late.

Lexa bites the inside of her cheek.

"You're staring."

Clarke flips onto her back and makes a show of getting comfortable.

When Lexa chances a glance at the eyes still watching her, Clarke doesn't look away.

"So?"

“So," Lexa draws out in half-hearted huff that does nothing to curb the heat rising to her cheeks. "It's distracting.”

Clarke's head lulls toward Lexa.

“Well… You're distracting,” she murmurs, lashes hanging low and eyes soft enough to make Lexa ache.

Lexa bites her lips and tries in vain to tame the wild burst of butterflies that take flight in the softest parts of her belly, willing them to behave themselves for once when she's around this girl.

She shuffles onto her side, careful not to dislodge the other occupant crammed into the postage stamp sized mattress, and rests her head on her palm. Forced to lounge half leaning over the pretty face of her friend splayed in a halo of fanned out blonde hair, the new position gives Lexa the most wonderful kind of vantage point.

“You're the one who's distracting. I'm not doing anything, I'm just studying,” she says through a poorly concealed smile. “How could I possibly be the distracting one?”

Clarke sighs and gives a grave shake of her head.

“You're always distracting.”

It's said so drearily, Lexa has no choice but to laugh and shift closer.

“Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"And what about me is so distracting?”

Clarke's face somehow grows softer. More quiet in its calm. Notes of nervous twitching along the corners of the lazy grin of her mouth as she lays there, face so close Lexa can see every flit of emotion that washes over her.

"Your nose," she finally says, seeming to delight in Lexa's surprised scoff.

"My nose?"

"Mhm. You have this little bump. Right," Clarke hums as she reaches up and traces along the bridge with a delicate fingertip, "here... I like it."

Lexa wills herself to keep still as her eyes fall closed in a slow blink. The tickling touch feels electric against her skin, long after its fallen away. It curls across the heated peaks of her ears and down her spine, to land in a syrupy warm pool in her belly.

Something brave and foolish and distinctly helium-based takes up residence in Lexa's chest as she reaches out as well, and drifts her own fingertip along Clarke's chin.

"I like your chin."

Clarke tuts. "That's ridiculous."

"I'm kind of obsessed with your chin," Lexa argues right back without thinking, feeling her stomach tighten with embarrassment at the way Clarke's teeth clamp around her bottom lip.

She drops her hand back to the bed.

Blue eyes sparkle in the low afternoon sunlight the spills through the dorm's only window as they trace every curve and line of Lexa's face in the silence.

"I like your cheekbones," Clarke finally says in a soft, shy murmur.

She seems to hesitate for a moment before leaning up, dusting a kiss to the high apple of Lexa's cheek, and then the other.

Every muscle of Lexa's body sings with a joyful riot of nerves and a deadly feeling of hope. Not knowing exactly what any of this means... but unwilling to stop.

She adjusts again, closer, shifting herself to lay more snug along the length of Clarke's side.

"I like your beauty mark," she forces out on what little oxygen her lungs will allow her.

She swallows against the dryness of her throat and she traces the mark with her fingertip. More terrified than she's ever felt in her life, she leans and presses a lingering kiss to the dot above Clarke's lip.

Lexa's heart pounds and the butterflies in her belly continue their flight as she pulls back slowly. The edges of Clarke's pupils have pressed out in deep inky pools, leaving nothing but the thinnest halo of blue. Her smile is quiet, softened in a flutter of lashes and panting breath, and it's place is this look.

This look that Lexa can't place, too scared to give it a name, as it hits her like a silk-tipped arrow.

But in the thrill of the moment, oh, how that look sets her skin on fire.

She can't help but return Clarke's smile with a weak one of her own, and feels a hand slip against her cheek; a palm cupping her jaw.

A thumb brushing a lazy strokes over the corner of her mouth.

"I like the one you have here too," Clarke whispers, sweeping over and over the spot again.

Time stands still, surely the very earth halting on its axis, as they stare and stare and dangle breathlessly on this precipice that Lexa feels she's been running toward since this woman crashed into existence.

And what a wonderful existence it is when Clarke's gaze flits between Lexa's own, and the path of her thumb blazing over the bow of her lip.

Clarke holds Lexa steady through her trembling as she leans up and replaces her thumb with a soft brush of her lips, and Lexa… Lexa feels like she's floating.

Her smile stretches so wide she knows she must look every bit a fool, lightheaded and giddy in the euphoria of this moment and this girl as her heart beats out the rhythm of a hummingbird's wing.

It's pure instinct that has her swaying into the touch, to let her eyes and lips fall closed around the supple give of Clarke's bottom lip. She sighs against Clarke's mouth, so enamored with the feel that in years to come she would never quite be able to say if they stay there, connected, for hours or mere seconds.

All she knows with absolute certain is that when Clarke inches away, it's entirely too soon.

Where Lexa feels as though her lungs have collapsed — have given up on any semblance of functioning — Clarke settles back against the bed in a rush of breath, her face flaming a particularly lovely shade of pink. Her chest rises and falls so fast Lexa wonders how her friend isn't equally as dizzy. Wonders if Clarke feels just as spun out as she does.

Nails scratch soothingly against Lexa's arm where Clarke still holds her, tangled into each other and keeping her close.

"You're shaking."

Lexa tucks back a curl of blonde hair behind a very likeable ear, feeling so many emotions in the rush of this insanity, helpless to stop the way she mirrors Clarke's smile.

"So are you…"

Lips a few shades redder than they were a few minutes before slide into a Cheshire grin.

"Well, I have an insanely beautiful girl sorta laying on top of me," Clarke says as she slips her arm around Lexa's waist and pulls her more firmly against her. "I kind of think that's to be expected..."

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

[amethystfairy1]

First, I just wanted to say how much I am in LOVE with TT. Your characterization is absolute perfection and every time a new chapter comes out I do a little happy dance. I cannot rave enough about TT. So, it seemed a good idea for me to give TTSBC a shot. I only had one problem. I’m not a huge fan of explicit romance, it’s a big turn off for me in a lot of fiction *sighs in repulsed aroace*. For TT, is a small enough part of the fic that I can get passed it, and mostly started later on so I’m already invested enough that I’m willing to put up with it because again, TT is hands down the best fic I’ve read, but for TTSBC it felt a lot more prominent in the first few chapters I read. This is far from a complaint, I still really want to read it, if TT is any indication, I’m sure it’s amazing. So, I come bearing a question. Are there any specific, more romancey chapters I can skip (especially near the beginning) while still getting the plot?

I'm so glad you enjoy TT so much!!! And that you enjoy my writing so much you're willing to give TTSBC a shot despite the issue with explicit romance!

Hmmm...I'm really sorry to say, but TTSBC is a much more romantically driven storyline than TT. There are plenty of non-romance stories and plot points within it! But yeah, a lot of the stories center around a ship and their interactions and characterizations are what forward the plot...especially because it's a Hot Guy and Cute Guy AU, and Scarian is cannon to TTSBC, so unfortunately I don't think I can exactly reccomend any to skip while still getting the plot, the two are just far to intertwined.

As far as specifically non-romantic stories in TTSBC I think you could still read and pick up on the context that might at least help you get your foot in the door...there's...

"Light of my Life" "A Nice Long Walk" and "Just Fine" which are about Cleo and Bdubs found family

"Blessings in Disguise" "Free Fall" and "All We Know" which are about the Empires found family.

"Pesky Birds" "Little Spark" and "Feathers and Flares" which are all about the Oddball found family. In these oned Doc and Etho are dating or married, but the story focuses much more heavily on them adopting all their wacky lil gremlins, not necessarily on their romantic relationship with each other.

And basically anything where Pearl or Cub is the main tagged character, because in TTSBC Pearl is ace and Cub is aroace! Some of their stories are "Lonely Moments, Left Alone" "Bestest Friends" "Always Watching" "All Ears" "Skulk-Vein Blues" and "Sunlit Coincidence"!

All of these stories don't predominantly feature romance!

Hmmm, other than that, I'd also say you should take a scroll through my Hermit-a-Day May series! A lot of the one-off stories I did in TTSBC about different hermits are just character studies and don't focus on romance!

But like I said at the start, TTSBC is a romance driven plot, so unfortunately a lot of the stories that are crucial to the plot are all romance heavy...so I can't exactly recommend any of them to you. But hopefully you will enjoy the ones above! It might be a bit out of context, but I hope you can pick up on the setting and world and hopefully get into TTSBC where you can!

Thanks so much!

[pinkofatom]

Joan's surprise

CW: brainwashing, corruption, cuckolding, maledom, femsub, malesub, humiliation, mtf

Matt watched his wife stand up with a frown. Her naked curves glistened with sweat. With a rolling hip, she sashayed to the bathroom. He rolled on his back, arms on his forehead, and stared at the bare ceiling. Something had happened to Joan over the last weeks. Never before was she this enthusiastic or in need of sex. At first, Matt had welcomed it, but at some point, it became weird. Respectful blouses and pants gave way to risque tops and skirts. Decent accents of makeup were exchanged with thick layers of sexual coating. What started as subtle soon turned into blatant. Her once-held principles were falling like dominoes, allowing a more promiscuous and perverted Joan to emerge. It felt like he was living with another woman.

The loud fall of the bathroom door tore him from his thoughts. Joan leaned against the doorpost. She smirked while teasingly letting her right hand glide over her hips and abdomen, caressing the defined body lines before joining the other hand covering her breasts. Her perfect brown hair covered part of her face. Two slim fingers slid through the curtain, tapping against her mouth. "How do you think I should get dressed?" she said. "It needs to be special today."

"You never dress up for your meetings." Matt squinted his eyes; something was definitely going on. "What's so special about this one?"

Joan's smile grew wider. "Let's just say that my mind might be blown." She let out a chuckle and opened her top drawer. The assortment of panties told enough of the story. Gone were the sensible knickers. Matt swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. It couldn't be, could it? Joan smiled as she put the garments on the bed and slowly dressed. He couldn't stop looking at her long legs. She rolled the tight panties up her legs, bending over so he could see the perfect round curve of her bum as she pulled them into place.

"And what do you mean by that? Getting your mind blown? Is that some kind of technical term in psychology?" he said sarcastically.

She smirked and said, "No, just a turn of phrase. I have no idea how this meeting is going to go, so it could be... interesting." Joan casually made her way to the closet and ruffled through her clothes. "I'm trying to prepare for anything." She pulled out a short black skirt and pulled it up her hips. She turned to Matt and asked, "What do you think?"

"It's okay, but not really you, babe," he said honestly.

Joan laughed and replied, "Good. It's exactly what I wanted." She adjusted the skirt on her hips. Matt noted the darkening of the lacy lingerie that was clearly visible beneath. She then put on a dark blue top that bared her shoulders and made it clear she was wearing no bra. She fiddled with her hair, brushing it into place. The task took much longer than usual as she took extra care to ensure each strand was perfectly in place. She applied makeup heavily, ensuring the caked-on foundation contrasted her naked skin with its' dramatic hue. She brushed color over her lips and smacked them together, smiling at the effect. She stepped back and regarded herself in the mirror.

"Joan, what exactly is that study about? And weren't you complaining about your advisor all the time? Now you seem so eager. Maybe something is wrong."

Joan glanced over her shoulder at him and replied, "I guess you could say I have a new appreciation for his work."

Matt didn't reply, he just stood there, staring at Joan while she walked to the front door and picked up her bag. She blew him a kiss and then walked out. The door closed behind her with a loud bang.

Matt first heard of her new professor during their first anniversary. While drinking some red wine, Joan complained about her advisor. Dr. Lane was a fat old pervert who constantly flirted with her. Despite all his attempts at flirting with her, she was still not willing to give him the time of day. Joan seemed disgusted by his attention, lamenting why he had to be the one overseeing her thesis and whining about how difficult he made her life. On the other hand, Matt laughed it off and said she was overreacting.

The next couple of weeks went by, Joan talked less and less about Dr. Lane, but there were some subtle changes. She started dressing more provocatively when she went to his office, wearing tighter skirts and blouses that accentuated her curves. She also started smiling a lot more than usual, even giggling to herself as if she had a secret. She seemed happy, almost giddy, whenever she spoke of him. It was strange to see her like that, especially since he knew she despised the guy. She even became a little bit snappier, becoming annoyed when he questioned her about it.

Matt sighed and stood up. Quickly he got ready for the day. Then a simple message appeared on his phone. 'Hey babe, check your emails on the computer. Dr. Lane and I have a special treat for you. Joan.' A message from Joan? What did she mean by that? Matt opened his laptop and clicked on the link in his mailbox. What he saw made him freeze.

A video started to play, showing Joan standing in front of Dr. Lane's desk. They were alone in the office, with no one else in sight.

"What is this?" Matt asked, his eyes glued to the screen.

Joan stood there — stiff, arms hanging down on each side, legs tightly together. It looked unnatural. Dr. Lane was grinning at her. He ran a finger along her jawline and continued talking to her. He slipped it into her mouth and touched her tongue. "Yes, you know what to do, don't you?"

She opened her mouth and closed her lips around his finger, sucking it into her mouth. His gaze dropped to her breasts. Joan continued to suck his finger until he pulled it out and put it in his pocket. "That's a good girl," he said.

Matt shook his head in disbelief. This wasn't happening! He couldn't believe his eyes as he watched his wife suck on the professor's finger. Lane's eyes focused on the camera. "Well, boy, I'm certain you are asking yourself what's happening here. Don't worry, Fucktoy here created a nice video series for you. Isn't that right Fucktoy," he said to Joan. "You know the one we've been working on? How did you say it again? Oh yes, it would help Matt understand why we have been doing what we do."

Matt stared at the screen, feeling numb. Why were they calling her Fucktoy? This wasn't his Joan, his sweet Joan who hated her advisor.

"Just watch, babe," Joan said from his laptop speakers. "I want you to see everything that has happened."

Dr. Lane grinned and waved at the camera before he turned to Joan. He sat down in his chair, looking up at her as if she were a piece of meat.

"We had some great sessions, didn't we Fucktoy?" he asked. Joan didn't respond. "I think your boy needs to know what we did, why we did it, and how much fun we had. And I'm certain he wants to hear about how he got a part in our game. So let's start the video." He clapped his hands, and the scene transitioned...

***

Joan stood in front of the closing door. A frown on her face. Behind his desk sat Dr.Lane. As she walked closer, he lifted his gaze.

"Dr. Lane, I'm here as you requested," Joan said in an annoyed tone. She looked at him, staring directly into his eyes. It made her uncomfortable that he was staring at her like that.

He leaned back in his chair, a broad grin on his face. "Welcome, Joan. Come sit down," he said, gesturing towards the chair in front of him.

She did so reluctantly, keeping her distance as far as possible. Her lips were pursed as she watched him closely. She wanted to leave as soon as possible. "So, what did you want to talk about?" she asked.

"Well, I have something essential to discuss with you," he said, a smirk appearing on his face. "It's about your thesis."

"My thesis? What about it?" Joan asked.

"I think it needs more work before you can present it to me," he said, his eyes roaming over her body. "A lot more work."

Joan blushed. She hated being looked at like that. It made her uncomfortable. "What do you mean by 'more work'?" she asked, feeling frustrated and annoyed.

"I think it needs some modification, some changes, some improvement," he said, licking his lips as his eyes drifted lower toward her breasts. "In fact, I think it would benefit from an entire rewrite."

Joan couldn't believe what she was hearing. A rewrite? That would mean months of extra work! Her fists clenched tightly in anger. "I don't think that's necessary!" she exclaimed. "My thesis is perfect the way it is!"

Dr. Lane smiled and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. He put his hands together, interlocking his fingers. "Joan, you're a smart girl. But there are some things that you just don't understand." He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in before continuing. "Your thesis lacks a certain uniqueness. It lacks originality. It's simply too conventional. Too boring. I want something that will stand out from the crowd. I want something that will make me sit up and take notice."

Joan narrowed her eyes at him, feeling even more irritated by his condescending tone. She opened her mouth to protest, but he raised a hand, silencing her before she could speak.

"I know what you're going to say," he said, flashing a grin. "You think I'm being unfair, right? That I'm being too hard on you?" He shook his head slowly as if he was disappointed in her. "No, Joan. This is the real world. And in the real world, you have to be willing to do whatever it takes to succeed."

Joan bit her lower lip, trying to contain her anger. She hated it when he talked down to her like that. She wanted nothing more than to tell him exactly where he could stick his stupid thesis. But she knew that wouldn't get her anywhere. She needed to stay calm and rational. "And what would you suggest?" She pressed the words through gritted teeth.

Dr. Lane leaned back in his chair again, interlacing his fingers behind his head. He looked at her for a long moment before responding. "Well, you need to show me you're serious about your work. I want you to prove to me that you're willing to go the extra mile."

"What do you mean by that?" she asked warily.

"I want you to do something that will demonstrate your commitment to this project," he replied. "Something that will show me you're willing to do whatever it takes to make this thesis perfect. A simple test." His hands moved beneath his desk. A strange hum echoed from the walls. Joan shifted in her chair uncomfortably. She felt a tingling sensation in her stomach, a sense of foreboding. Dr. Lane's face had become stern, unsmiling.

"A test?" Joan asked. Her voice sounded small and uncertain.

"Yes," he said firmly. "I want you to show me you're ready to take this seriously." He paused, looking at her intently. "Are you willing to do that, Joan? Are you willing to prove your commitment?"

Joan hesitated, uncertain what he meant by a 'test'. A million questions raced through her mind, but none concluded as the noise started to grow. Blinking, Joan rubbed her forehead. This was a waste of time. She wasn't going to sit here and listen to his bullshit anymore. She needed to get out of there before he said something stupid. "You know what, Dr. Lane? I'm not going to do this. I'm done." Joan stood up, turned around, and marched towards the door. "You can keep your fucking thesis."

Dr. Lane chuckled. "Joan, you're such a silly girl. Just where do you think you're going?"

Joan's head spun around, looking at him in confusion. "I'm leaving," she replied defiantly. But her gaze locked onto a radiant gem dangling on a string down. She couldn't help but stare at it. Her mind started to fog, and all thoughts of leaving the office disappeared. "You need to stay here, Joan."

"Why?" Joan asked, her voice barely audible. Her eyes remained fixated on the gem. She felt compelled to move closer to it. It was like a magnet pulling her in.

The pendant started to swing. "Because I said so." From left to right. "And because your eyes need to follow this beautiful gem." From right to left. "You cannot stop yourself from looking at it." Back and forth. "You want to watch this gem."

Joan's eyes followed the pendulum. "Don't be daft," she whispered. "That's ridiculous." Yet her head turned side to side as if possessed.

"You will find that what I'm saying is very true. You'll soon realize you're going to do whatever I tell you to do whenever I tell you to do it. It doesn't matter how silly or outrageous it sounds."

"That's absurd," Joan said softly. Her eyes moved faster and faster. She began to breathe deeply, feeling lightheaded. A tingling sensation spread through her body, making her feel hot and flushed.

Dr. Lane grinned widely as he watched her squirm in the chair. "Of course it is," he replied. "But the important thing is that you do it anyway. Because you want to. Because you like doing what I say. Don't you, Joan?"

Joan stared blankly at him for a few seconds, then shook her head slightly. "Of course, master," she spat the words out, sarcasm dripping from her lips. "Was that all? Can I go now?"

"No," the humming grew louder, "but you can try." Joan scowled at him before turning around and reaching for the doorknob. Her fingers wrapped around the cool metal, but her arm felt numb. The stronger she tried, the more dizzy she felt. "What is happening," Joan whispered. She dropped to her knees as she realized the situation was futile. "Just listen to my voice, Joan," Dr. Lane said calmly. "Listen to me, and everything will be okay."

The hum increased further. Joan's head was spinning. She could barely think straight anymore. Her eyes darted around the room, searching desperately for some way to escape. But she couldn't see anything except the pendant swinging in front of her face. Its glow seemed to fill the entire room. It became hard to breathe. She gasped for air, struggling to remain conscious.

The doctor chuckled as he watched her struggle. "Joan, I want you to imagine a staircase deep in your mind. Do you see it?"

Joan's eyes widened at the thought of this. Her imagination began to take over. "Yes," she breathed, staring straight ahead. The pendulum was all she could focus on.

"Now climb down each step," the doctor ordered, his voice echoing through her mind. "Go deeper and deeper until you reach the bottom." Joan did as she was told, feeling herself descending further into the depths of her subconscious. Her vision became blurry, and she lost track of time. She felt like she was floating in space, surrounded by 1. It felt like an eternity passed as she descended deeper into the abyss.

The doctor's voice continued to echo through her head. "You will find a door waiting for you when you get there. Do you see it?"

Joan nodded slowly. "Yes." The pendulum hung from the ceiling, swinging back and forth above her head. Its light cast shadows across the floor beneath her feet. She looked around the room, seeing only darkness except for the glimmering gem. The glow reflected off its surface, illuminating the area around her. She took a deep breath and reached out to touch the doorknob. It felt cold under her fingers.

She turned it, opening the door to reveal a pitch-black room. "Now step inside and close the door behind you," the doctor instructed. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness as she stepped forward. "There will be a table in front of you with three items on it. A pair of black high heels, a black thong, and a white silk robe." Joan blinked as she spotted these items exactly where the doctor had described them. "Place each item on your body, starting with the shoes." She did as she was told, slipping the heels onto her feet. Then she picked up the panties and slid them over her hips. Finally, she tied the robe around her waist.

"How does it feel, Joan?" he asked, his voice resonating through her mind.

"Good," she answered automatically, unable to control her tongue any longer. "It feels... nice." She stared at the ceiling, watching the gem twirl back and forth in front of her face.

The doctor chuckled softly. "Good girl. Now you can move further into the room." The pendant swung back and forth as she walked forward, its glow growing brighter with each step. Soon she reached another door, which she opened to reveal a stairway leading downwards. "Descend these stairs," the doctor instructed. "With each step, you will relax more. There is nothing to worry about." Joan obeyed, feeling herself becoming calmer and more relaxed as she descended deeper and deeper into the darkness.

"The deeper you go, Joan, the less you need to think. Step by step, you relax. Step by step, you become more suggestible." His voice echoed through her mind. Her steps grew slower, heavier, and harder to make. She wanted to stop, but the relaxation was irresistible. She couldn't stop herself from taking another step. And then another. Finally, she reached the bottom of the stairs. "I'm at the bottom." Her voice was barely audible.

"Very good, Joan. Your mind is now pliable. So entranced you can't wake up on your own. Looking around, you find the beautiful pendant swinging inside your mind. Can you see it?" he asked, his voice still echoing through her head.

Joan nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the gem dangling from the ceiling. It swung back and forth like a pendulum, its light casting shadows across the floor beneath her feet.

The doctor continued. "Good. Now listen to my words carefully, Joan. You will become more relaxed and open-minded each time you see this pendant swinging in front of your eyes. Your thoughts will become clear. Your imagination vivid. Your mind more susceptible to hypnotic suggestions." His voice was soothing, calm. She couldn't stop listening. "Every time you see the pendulum swinging, you will feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper into a trance. Your thoughts will become hazy, muddled, confused. But at the same time, you will become more receptive to my commands. And you will enjoy it." He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in before continuing. "And from now on, whenever I snap my fingers, you will automatically enter a deep state of hypnosis where you are unable to resist any of my suggestions. Do you understand?"

Joan nodded her head mechanically. "Yes." Her voice sounded distant, detached.

"Good girl. Now, Joan, we will let your conscious mind forget this little episode. Only your subconscious needs to remember this."

Joan frowned, not understanding what he meant. Her brain seemed sluggish and foggy. She wanted to speak but couldn't find the right words.

The doctor's voice echoed through her mind again. "When I count down from three, you will snap out of your trance, and you won't remember anything that has happened since you first came into my office. You'll remember that we discussed your thesis, and you were grateful for my help. You left. Nothing more." He paused for a moment, making sure she understood before continuing. "Are you ready? Three... two... one... wake up." Joan blinked as her eyes refocused. Her thoughts became more apparent, sharper. The fog lifted from her brain. She felt refreshed, energized, rejuvenated.

She glanced around the room, noticing everything was exactly as it had been when she first arrived. She smiled at the doctor, feeling confident and excited about her future career prospects. "Thank you so much for helping me with my thesis," she chirped. "I'm so glad I came to see you today."

***

Matt stared at the screen. His cock pulsed against his pants. The video transitioned again back to the camera feed. Moaning and slurping greeted him. Between Dr. Lane's legs kneeled Joan. Her head bobbed up and down. Joan looked up at the camera, giving it a wink before returning her attention to the giant cock she was deepthroating. Her hands moved behind her, unfastening her top and sliding it down. Her breasts bounced as she sucked his dick, the large orbs jiggling in front of her. Matt groaned when she let the doctor's dick fall out of her mouth with a loud pop. "Enjoy the next one, babe."

***

A week had gone by. Joan stood again in her advisor's office. Self-conscious, she played with her new skirt. Wasn't it too short? A dizzy spell came over her. Joan rubbed her forehead. No, everything was okay. She didn't understand why he insisted on seeing her again. Joan thought the thesis was settled with the last one, but apparently, Dr. Lane wanted to review it again. For the past few days, her dreams had been erotic. Masturbating and teasing Matt during breakfast had become routine.

"Did you make the modifications I asked for?" Dr. Lane said in a casual tone. Joan's eyes rested on his lips. Her chest tightened when she noticed how they looked delicious.

"Yes, but as I said, I don't understand why you want to change some of the parts."

He leaned forward, interlacing his fingers in front of him. His broad chest peaked from under his shirt. It looked so manly and inviting. Joan blushed at the thought. This was her professor; he shouldn't be sexy, but everything about him was suddenly too attractive. Her skirt slid up her legs as she pressed her thighs together. She shifted in her seat.

Blinking, she tried to focus. Something was definitely wrong. Although she didn't like Lane, she felt grateful for his help. "I'll listen to your advice and make the changes."

"Good girl," Dr. Lane said with a smile.

The compliment sent a shiver down her spine. She had no idea why he had that effect on her, but it felt nice to please him. "Thank you."

His eyes drifted over her body, taking in every detail. Joan squirmed under his gaze. Despite being so nervous earlier, it was strange how comfortable she felt in his presence. "You know, Joan, I think you're ready for a new project—something bigger, better, more important."

Joan stared at him, unable to speak. He chuckled at her confusion. "What do you say?" he asked, leaning closer. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Would you like to join me on a special assignment?"

"Yes," Joan breathed. Her pulse quickened. She could feel her heart beating faster and faster as excitement coursed through her veins. It was impossible to deny that she wanted this. She craved it. She needed it.

Dazed, she shook her head. "Wait... No. I need to get my thesis done."

Dr. Lane chuckled and waved his hand dismissively. "Nonsense! Your thesis is the least of your concerns right now. You need to focus on this new project. It's important."

"But what about my studies?" Joan asked weakly.

Dr. Lane stood up and walked over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Joan, don't worry about that right now. I promise I'll take care of everything. All you need to do is trust me and follow my instructions." His eyes bored into hers, staring intently at her. "Do you trust me, Joan?" he asked softly.

Joan hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly. "Yes." Her voice sounded small, uncertain.

He smiled and patted her shoulder gently. "Good girl." His hand lingered on her shoulder, caressing her skin lightly. "Now focus on this pendant, please." He took the gem from his pocket and dangled it in front of her face. Its light reflected off her glasses as she stared at it. The hum began again, echoing through the room. Joan felt dizzy and disoriented. Her thoughts became dizzy and confused. She could only think about the gem swinging in front of her eyes. Everything else seemed distant and irrelevant.

"That's right, just look at the gem, Joan. It will help you relax." He leaned closer, whispering into her ear. "You're going to be a good girl for me, aren't you?"

She nodded weakly, unable to tear her gaze away from the pendant. Her breathing became heavy and labored as she felt herself slipping deeper into a trance. She could feel her mind surrendering to his control.

Dr. Lane grinned and ran his fingers through her hair. "Yes, you will be a good girl," he murmured, stroking her head softly. "And you will do whatever I tell you to, won't you?"

Joan's mouth opened slightly as she gasped for air. Her eyelids fluttered as she struggled to keep them open. "Yes," she whispered breathlessly. "I'll do anything."

He chuckled and patted her cheek affectionately. "That's my girl." His hand moved down to cup her chin, tilting it up so that she looked directly into his eyes. "Now listen carefully. You are becoming hypnotized with every breath you take. Each breath brings you deeper into a trance. Every word I speak makes your mind more malleable, pliable, and suggestible. You will obey my every command without hesitation or question. Isn't that right?"

Joan blinked slowly as she nodded again. "Yes." Her voice sounded far away and distant.

Dr. Lane smiled at her obedience. He ran a finger along her jawline, enjoying the feel of her smooth skin against his fingertips. "Good girl," he murmured. "Now tell me, what do you think of me, Joan? Truly deep down."

"I... I..." Joan stammered. Her thoughts were scattered and disjointed. She couldn't form a coherent sentence. It was hard to concentrate when she felt so relaxed and compliant.

Dr. Lane chuckled and stroked her cheek gently. "Take your time, Joan. Tell me how you really feel about me."

Joan took a deep breath, trying to clear her head enough to speak clearly. "I... I can't stand you. You're always flirting with me, touching me inappropriately, staring at my breasts. You make me uncomfortable." Her voice trembled as she spoke, but she continued on. "You're an arrogant asshole who thinks he can do whatever he wants just because he's older and smarter than everyone else."

He smiled at her admission. "And yet here you are, sitting in front of me, hypnotized and mesmerized. Do you like it?" he asked, his voice softening slightly.

"Yes," she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed as she struggled to keep herself from falling deeper. She knew this wasn't right and that she should fight it.

"Good girl. Every time I say good girl feel a pulse of pleasure jolt through your body." He lifted her chin higher, forcing her gaze to meet his own. "I want you to understand that your need for my approval is now the most important thing in your life. The only thing that matters." His voice became low and seductive as he spoke, sending shivers down her spine. "And every time you feel that pleasure, you will become more obedient and submissive towards me. Good girl."

Joan whimpered softly as she felt her body reacting to his words. Her nipples hardened beneath her shirt, pressing against the fabric. Her breathing quickened as her heart pounded inside her chest.

"You are addicted to this submissive suggestible state. From now on, even though your conscious mind won't remember, you will seek my advice for everything. Isn't that right, good girl?"

Joan's eyes fluttered open, her pupils dilated and glassy. She stared blankly at him and nodded slowly. "Yes." Her voice was barely audible. Her mouth opened slightly as she gasped for air.

"And because your mind doesn't want to submit to me, you'll have a little mantra whenever you want to resist my control." He lifted her chin even higher, staring directly into her eyes. "Joan is a mindless slut in need of brainwashing."

"Nooo," Joan whined as her eyelids fluttered shut again. She shook her head weakly as she struggled against the urge to obey. She wanted to fight it, to deny his command.

Dr. Lane chuckled and stroked her hair softly. "Good girl," he murmured affectionately. "Now repeat after me... Joan is a mindless slut in need of brainwashing." His words echoed through her mind, repeating themselves over and over until she repeated them back to him. Her lips moved silently as she repeated the phrase again and again, her voice barely audible.

The doctor grinned as he watched her repeating his words over and over. He leaned closer to her ear, whispering softly, "That's right, you're becoming more and more obedient with each breath. Your resistance is fading away. Deeper and deeper, the truth sinks in. Now let me make some necessary changes inside that pliable brain." His fingers caressed her scalp as he spoke, sending shivers down her spine. She felt herself sinking, unable to stop herself from obeying his commands. She moaned softly as she continued to repeat his words, feeling the pleasure build inside her body.

Joan whimpered as she struggled against the urge to obey him, her mind foggy and confused. She didn't want this! Why was she doing it? She didn't want to become a mindless slut!

Dr. Lane smiled at her distress, enjoying her struggles. "You can fight all you want, Joan. It's far too late now. You are a mindless slut. You dress in a provocative way. You need to. It makes your cunt throb. Imagine it. Describe it."

The words echoed through her head as she felt herself losing control. Her hands moved to her blouse, slowly unbuttoning it as she imagined how she would dress in the future. She imagined wearing tight skirts and low-cut tops that showed off her cleavage, her nipples poking through the fabric. Her curves on display — seen by everyone. As the images conjured in her mind, words describing them flowed from her lips. "My clothes make me feel so sexy. As I walk, my skirt rides up my thighs, showing off my legs. My top hugs my breasts tightly, making them look even bigger than they already are. Everyone stares at me when I walk by. They all want me. They all want to fuck me. The attention turns me on so much. It makes me wet just thinking about it."

Joan moaned softly as she imagined what it would feel like to have all those men staring at her, touching her, fucking her. Her hands moved down her body, caressing her skin as she pictured herself being used by men over and over again. "I love being a slut. I want to be used and abused. I want men to use my body for their pleasure. I need to please them in any way they desire."

Dr. Lane grinned wickedly as he watched her confession. He could see her desperation and the need to submit completely to him. His cock hardened as he imagined all the ways he could use her body to satisfy himself. He licked his lips hungrily, anticipating what was to come next. "That's right, good girl. Tell me more about your body."

She continued, unable to stop herself from obeying his commands anymore. "My curves fill out my clothes perfectly. My ass looks amazing in tight skirts and short dresses. I love showing off my cleavage, teasing men with a glimpse of my tits." She pictured herself walking through the university wearing skimpy outfits that left little to the imagination, flaunting her body in front of everyone she encountered. "I want people to look at me and think 'slut'. I want them to know what kind of woman I am."

The doctor nodded approvingly as he listened to her confession. His hand moved down to caress her breasts through her shirt. She whimpered softly as he teased her nipples with his fingertips. "And you dress like this because you are a mindless slut." he said, rolling one of her hard nipples between his thumb and forefinger. "I made you into a slut. Don't you feel grateful, Joan? Of course, you do. The hornier you are, the more your abhorrence for me turns into admiration."

Her eyes fluttered open again, staring up at him pleadingly. "Please..." she begged, unable to finish her thought.

"You will forget the reason why you don't like me. You only remember that I'm smart, and I helped you a lot with your thesis. From now on, my approval becomes everything to you."

Joan whimpered again as she struggled against his control. She didn't want this! But it felt so good! How could she fight it when all she wanted was to obey? Her mind clouded over as she tried desperately to resist, but her body refused to listen to her commands. "Yes," she gasped, feeling her resolve crumbling away with each passing second.

Dr. Lane grinned at her helplessness. "That's a good girl. Now let these changes settle again. They borrough deep into your subconscious mind. Your conscious mind can forget what happened here. It has no need for these memories. All it remembers is that you happily agreed to become part of my new project. Any time you try to remember what's it about, Joan, your pussy will throb, and you are overcome with the need to buy new sexy clothes or suck off a man. Do you understand?"

Joan groaned. Her thoughts were still scattered and confused, but she understood enough to know that he was trying to change her mind. He wanted to control her, to make her obey his every command. And she had no choice but to submit to him completely. "Yes," she whispered weakly, unable to fight any longer.

Dr. Lane chuckled at her defeat. He patted her cheek gently before leaning down to kiss her forehead. "That's a good girl," he murmured against her skin. Then he stood up straight and stepped away from her chair. His hands moved behind his back as he turned to face her.

"You will wake up at the count of five."

Joan nodded dully, staring blankly ahead.

He started counting down slowly, watching as she gradually became more alert with each passing second. As soon as she regained consciousness, he clapped his hands loudly in front of her face. She jumped slightly at the sound, blinking rapidly as her eyes focused on him. "Sorry, doctor, I spaced out a bit. What did you say?"

"I asked if you felt ready for your new assignment."

She smiled eagerly, nodding enthusiastically. "Yes! Absolutely!" she exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement. Her nipples were clearly visible through her thin shirt. Dr. Lane noticed it and winked at her. "That's my good girl. Well then, Joan, I will start emailing you instructions." He approached her again and patted her cheek affectionately. "For now, you can go."

Joan jumped up and walked out of the office, a sway in her hips.

***

Matt's eyes were glued to the screen. His hand wrapped around his hard throbbing cock. Fuzzy fog spun around his dizzy brain as the video transitioned back to the camera feed.

Bent over the desk, Joan moaned, Dr. Lane thrusting his cock deep into her cunt.

"That's right, Joan, take this fat cock in your slutty pussy. Let your husband see you enjoy another man's dick. Mmmm, what a fucking slut."

"I'm your slut doctor, I'm your fucktoy. Use my body as you wish."

He grabbed her hips and began thrusting faster and harder, grunting loudly as he pounded her from behind. Joan screamed in pleasure as he rammed his cock deep inside her, stretching her tight hole open wide with every stroke.

Matt couldn't look away. Drooling, he continued to watch. He was entranced by the image of his wife being used by another man. Dr. Lane's large hands gripped her waist as he drove his thick shaft into her over and over again. It was the most erotic thing Matt had ever seen. Joan's mouth hung open in ecstasy, her eyes rolling back in her head as she moaned loudly. She cried out repeatedly as Dr. Lane pumped his hips furiously, pounding her pussy mercilessly until she came hard on his cock. Her whole body shook violently as she screamed in pure bliss, screaming for more, begging him not to stop. "Yes! Oh god, yes! Please don't stop!"

Dr. Lane smiled smugly at her reaction, grabbing her hair roughly and pulling her head back as he continued fucking her senseless. Joan gasped and whimpered under his brutal assault but kept begging for more. "I'm your fucktoy, use my body as you wish." She reached down between her legs and began rubbing her clit furiously, moaning and whimpering while he rammed his cock deep inside her cunt again and again, filling her with every thrust. Her thighs quivered uncontrollably as she orgasmed again, soaking his cock in her juices.

"See Matt, what a slut you married. I'm sure over the last weeks she never was that good to you," Dr. Lane said as he leaned over Joan's back. "That's right, look at this married slut getting fucked by another man, loving every second of it. Tell me how much you enjoy my dick pounding your married cunt."

"Oh yes! Please don't stop... please keep fucking me! Fuck me harder! Make me cum again! Please!" Joan cried out desperately, her voice filled with lust and desire.

"Mmm, that's right, you dirty whore, tell everyone what a filthy little slut you are. I love hearing you scream for more." He reached down and grabbed her breasts roughly, squeezing them tightly in his hands as he continued slamming his cock into her pussy. His balls slapped against her thighs loudly as he pounded her relentlessly.

Matt groaned as his cock throbbed in response. Glassy eyes reflected on the screen as it turned to another video.

***

Joan stood in Dr. Lane's office for the fifth time this week. In her hands rested a small mirror. Focused, she applied a new coat of red lipstick. Her lashes fluttered before she looked down at her body. Joan had bought new lingerie for today's meeting. It was sheer and hugged her curves nicely. It made her feel sexy and confident. Her breasts pushed up, making them look bigger than they already were. She checked herself out, running her hands along her hips as she admired how the bra accentuated her cleavage. She smiled wickedly at herself in the mirror, licking her lips slowly before applying more lipstick. She'd never felt so beautiful before. So slutty.

She had been unable to resist shopping for risque clothes for the whole week daily. Sometimes she had the desire to suck cock. These days, she rushed home and surprised her husband. Once he got over the shock of his prim and proper wife sucking his dick, he enjoyed it immensely. The memory alone made Joan lick her lips.

She stared into the mirror again. She was dressed in a short skirt, tight top, high heels, and fishnet stockings. Her hair was curled and styled perfectly. She wore heavy makeup with dark eyeshadow and thick mascara. She looked sexy as hell. She loved feeling like this, like a naughty girl who needed to be punished for acting so shamelessly. It made her wet just thinking about it.

"You look great, Joan," Dr. Lane said as he entered his office. "Very nice." He stood behind her, staring at her. His eyes roamed over her body, taking in every detail. His hands caressed her hips, moving up her sides and cupping her breasts.

Joan moaned softly as she felt his fingers squeezing her tits. She pressed her ass against his crotch, rubbing it gently against his growing erection.

"Tell me what you want," Dr. Lane whispered huskily.

"I want you to fuck me, doctor," Joan breathed, closing her eyes and leaning back against him.

"I see the suggestions have taken hold." He snapped his fingers. An invisible string pulled her up, and Joan assumed a stiff pose. Her back straight, breasts pushed forward, she stared ahead. Her arms dangled by her side. A small puddle formed between her legs as Joan became wetter and wetter by the minute. "Yes, Master."

Dr. Lane moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. His hands roamed freely over her body, squeezing her breasts roughly through her top. "Good girl," he murmured, planting kisses along her neck and shoulder blades.

Joan moaned softly as he touched her, enjoying the feel of his hands caressing her skin. It was so wrong, but it felt so good. She wanted more. She needed more. "Please... I need you inside me..." she begged. Her voice trailed off into a whimper as he began rubbing her clit through her panties, teasing her wet slit with his fingers.

"Is that really appropriate, Joan? You are married. Think about what your husband would say?" He chuckled. "Or do you think Matt can accept the fact that his wife loves my dick in her cunt." His lips brushed against her ear, sending shivers down her spine. He nipped at her earlobe, biting it gently before kissing down her neck and sucking on her pulse point.

Joan moaned loudly as he continued stroking her clit, his fingers sliding between her slick folds easily. She pushed back against him, grinding her ass against his crotch, desperate to feel his cock inside her pussy. "Please... fuck me..." she gasped, unable to contain herself any longer.

"You've come along fine. Those small sessions over the week really did it. Remember what we did together, Joan." He snapped his fingers.

Everything flashed before Joan's eyes — pendant dangling, mind-melting. Her hands wrapped around his thick cock. Delicate fingers teased a glistening tip. Lips spread open, drooling in front of it. She recalled kneeling before him, staring up at his handsome face as he pumped his shaft in and out of her mouth. His warm seed filled her stomach. After swallowing it all, she thanked him for using her body. But Joan didn't care. All she cared about was getting fucked by Dr. Lane's throbbing cock.

Hot breath tickled her ear. "How explicit, Joan." Fingers dipped deeper into her pussy. Dr. Lane began rubbing her clit in tight circles while pumping his fingers inside her dripping wet cunt. He grunted softly as he slid two digits along her slick folds, fingering her roughly as he whispered dirty words in her ear. "Your cunt feels so good around my cock. You're such a naughty girl, letting me fuck you like this."

Joan moaned loudly as she bucked her hips forward, grinding against his hand. She reached behind her, grabbing onto his waist and pulling him closer. Her breathing became heavy as he thrust his fingers deeper inside her pussy, pumping them faster. "You are such a mindless, brainwashed slut. Maybe we should change something inside that pliable head of yours. One last time."

Joan's half-laid eyes fell upon a familiar shine. "No, please, not that," she begged weakly—a small, unimportant voice screamed whispers of defiance. But as the pendant swung in tune with his fingers, the wave of pleasure drowned it in obedience. Slack-jawed and drooling, her eyes tracked the pendulum.

"Admit it, Joan, you love this." His breath tickled her ear as he nibbled on her earlobe, biting down hard enough to make her gasp.

Joan shuddered as waves of ecstasy rippled through her body, surging through every nerve ending until her skin tingled with desire. She nodded slowly, unable to speak coherently as he continued finger-fucking her sopping-wet cunt. His cock pulsated against her ass, growing thicker by the second as he pumped his fingers deeper inside her tight pussy.

Her moans grew louder and louder, her voice rising in pitch until she screamed out in blissful agony — eyes never leaving the crystal. "It's all you ever wanted to be. My slutty fucktoy. Why else would you choose such a boring track to study." Dr. Lane moved his hands from her clit to her breasts, squeezing them roughly through her top as he continued rubbing his hard cock against her backside. "Do you like being used, Joan? Do you enjoy being dominated by another man?"

She whimpered softly as she nodded again, too lost in pleasure to care about anything other than how good it felt. Her legs trembled as she bucked her hips, grinding her ass against his crotch as she sought more friction between them. "Yes... yes..." she whispered breathlessly.

"Of course you do. You are nothing but a breathing fucktoy. Joan, you never were a real person. A real human being wouldn't turn into a slut just by looking at a pendant. So you must be an object." Dr. Lane's fingers danced along her sensitive nipples, pinching them gently through the thin fabric of her bra. He tweaked them lightly before rubbing them in slow circles, teasing them until they hardened beneath his touch. "And every object is here to serve humans," he murmured, pressing himself against her ass and grinding his cock against her panty-clad cheeks. "Isn't that right?"

Joan swallowed hard as she felt his dick throbbing against her ass, his erection growing more intense by the second. Her pussy throbbed with need, begging for release as his words sank in. She nodded slowly, her voice quivering with anticipation. "Yes... I'm here to serve..." she moaned softly, arching her back and pushing her breasts out further, eager for more stimulation.

Dr. Lane smiled wickedly at her reaction. "That's right. You were made to serve me. I own you fucktoy. Say it, my toy. Make it your core truth."

Joan gasped as his fingers twisted her tender buds, sending jolts of electricity shooting straight to her pussy. Her juices dripped down her thighs, soaking her panties thoroughly. She could feel herself dripping onto the floor beneath her feet, creating a puddle on the hardwood surface. Her legs shook violently as she struggled to remain upright, moaning uncontrollably as waves of ecstasy surged through her body with every flick of his fingers. "Y-yes... Master... I belong to you... Please use me however you want..." she panted between ragged breaths, her chest heaving with each word.

"Good girl. Beg me to use your mindless toy cunt," he demanded while teasing her clit with his fingertips.

Joan whined desperately, her voice trembling as she pleaded for him to take her now. She was so close already. If only he would fuck her right now! "Please fuck me, Master!" she cried out loudly, unable to contain herself any longer. "Please! Please! Fuck me now!"

His cock twitched against her ass as he chuckled softly in her ear. He nibbled on her earlobe once more before pulling away from her completely, leaving her standing alone in the center of his office. She whimpered as she watched him walk over to his desk and sit down in front of his computer screen, ignoring her completely. "Are you my brainless slut? Are you a fucktoy?"

She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his face. She could see him smirking at her response as he clicked away at his keyboard, typing rapidly on the keyboard. "Then I have a simple task for you, fucktoy. Over the next week, you are to fuck that husband of yours silly. And when he is exhausted and drugged on happiness, slip this pair of headphones over his ears."

Joan blinked slowly as he reached under his desk and pulled out a set of high-end, wireless earbuds. They were black with red accents along the edges and looked extremely expensive. "I have specially modified these for a special purpose. With these earbuds, your husband will fall into the deepest trance state you can imagine, helplessly hearing my words drilled into his head over and over again." Dr. Lane walked towards Joan, putting the buds in her hands. She stared at them blankly, trying to process what he'd just said. "Can you do that for me, fucktoy? Can you obey my commands and enslave your husband?"

"Yes, Master," Joan said softly as she felt a wave of excitement wash over her. "Fucktoy will do as you command." She would do anything to be used by her master. She was nothing but an owned object. The fact that Dr. Lane thought her capable of something like this made her heart flutter in anticipation.

He patted her cheek gently before returning to his seat behind his desk. "I knew you'd be a good girl, Joan." He glanced back at the computer screen as he typed away on his keyboard again. "The last thing, fucktoy, is that only I can make you orgasm. You may fuck others to satisfy your urges, but ultimately it will only make you more horny and needy for my cock. Do you understand fucktoy?"

Joan nodded slowly as she stared at him through half-lidded eyes. She could feel her cunt throbbing uncontrollably as she listened to his words. His voice echoed inside her head, repeating over and over until they became part of her core truth. Her thoughts turned fuzzy and foggy as she lost herself in pleasure.

Dr. Lane grinned as he looked at her glassy eyes and vacant expression. "Good girl," he murmured, "now wake up, fucktoy. And fullfil your orders."

A shudder ran down her spine as she snapped back into reality, feeling the cool air against her wet skin. The room smelled of sex and sweat, filling her nostrils with its musky scent. Her body tingled with anticipation as she stared blankly at the ceiling, her mind clouded over by lust and desire. She blinked a few times, trying to clear her vision as she sat up slowly, groaning softly as her muscles ached from being bent over for so long.

She glanced down at her damp panties, noticing the dark spot on them where she'd leaked all over the floor. "Fucktoy obeys master." And with that sentence, she left the office, hips rolling in wide sways.

***

Slack-jawed Matt drooled at the scene in front of him. Glassy eyes reflected on the screen. With a languid flutter, he noticed the earbuds. They filled his head with a humming noise. Cum drippled down his soft cock. Masculinity expelled.

Giggling, he watched a swirling spiral change the scene back to the video feed. Fucktoy stood stiff and still besides Dr. Lane. Cum flowed freely from her naked cunt. She stared ahead with a wide, strained smile and empty eyes.

Dr. Lane looked into the camera, his eyes glistened with malicious greed. "Now you should be in the perfect state of mind, Sissy doll. Go deep."

His snap echoed through Matt's head as darkness swallowed him.

***

Fucktoy giggled against the plump lips in front of her. Hungry, she pressed her own pillows against them. A satisfying moan vibrated through her partner, Sissy Doll, as tongues intertwined.

Fucktoy's hands traced Sissy doll's fake plastic curves. Silky fabric tickled her skin. She relished the soft touch. Their nipples brushed together underneath layers of clothes and swimwear. Their juices mixed as their legs interlaced. Wetness soaked through each other's panties as they rolled their hips.

The pair moaned as Fucktoy traced a finger along Sissy doll's round asscheek, squeezing it firmly. Sissy doll arched her back as she ground against Fucktoy's cunt, pressing her flaccid cock against Fucktoy's cunt. Fucktoy dug her nails deeper into Sissy doll's plump flesh.

Half a minute, they kissed. With a loud, wet sound, they moved away from each other. Thick spit formed a thread between their mouths. Both watched the red light blinking on the camera. Then they looked into each other's eyes again. Sissy doll licked the spit from Fucktoy's mouth before speaking. "Fuck me hard like the doll I am."

Dull Fucktoy compared the high-pitch to its former baritone. But the memory easily drowned in a sea of bliss. "Of course, Sissy doll." She giggled and nodded enthusiastically.

In his office, Dr. Lane watched multiple feeds of fucktoys and sissy dolls playing with each other as an attractive woman entered his office.

[stellacartography]

Day 4 Green/grey / chess

The dimming grey of the clouds made the sky look infinitely blank. The washed out light of early February absorbed the colour from everything it touched. Greg was already hurtling towards a headache and Sherlock wasn't helping. Nor was John.

"It was obvious, John."

"Obvious to you is not obvious to everyone, Sherlock, as I've said before."

"The toxin had no other plausible origins. The wife's penchant for occultism notwithstanding, it would have taken thousands of pounds of cherries to extract sufficient cyanide by any method available outside a sophisticated chemical laboratory. And she was pitting them first!"

"It could have been cyanide."

"It could. But it wasn't. Take alone the signs of flushing and asphyxia and it could still be cyanide or arsenic or any number of pharmaceuticals–"

"Enough!" Greg roared, his head pounding. "Get in. No talking in my car or I'll leave you on a wharf."

There were some muffled whispers in the back seat that still sounded like bickering, but Sherlock and John mostly adhered to the letter if not the spirit of the law.

At Baker Street he found temporary parking and followed the two up to the first floor flat. They had quietened at the street door and Greg hung back to watch them, really observe as Sherlock was always insisting he do.

John climbed the stairs after Sherlock, his body held strong. He looked edgy, braced for anything, and when Greg stepped on the stair that elicited an intrusive creak in the silence, he was biting his lip when he glanced over his shoulder.

Greg was aware of the tension John and Sherlock carried between them. He'd been a fly on the wall of their relationship going on eight years. Their relationship had changed and shifted from the breathless infatuation of their early days but still held the startling intimacy that inspired so many rumours.

Greg had explained it to John once over pints when he'd tired of John's defensive "We're not like that; I'm not gay" refrain. "Nobody gets this," he'd said, staring down at his fourth pint. "Everyone wishes they could be what you two are. People see what you have, what you are to each other and they see what they wish they had. What it actually is is yours."

John had seemed willing to absorb Greg's pint-fuelled philosophy at the time, nodding sagely and staring contemplatively into his ale. Though nothing much changed about John's demeanour when yarders made comments about him and Sherlock – he still bristled, still got defensive and snarly – Greg never did hear him say the words "Not gay" again.

Greg followed the dynamic duo into the sitting room of 221B and couldn't help but observe the glances, the touches, the seemingly thoughtless considerations and superficial affections dancing over the surface of an old, deep tension. Sherlock touched John's arm, just about cupping it in the palm of his hand when he passed John his tea. John watched Sherlock stride to his chair as a starving man might watch a hot meal being handed to someone else.

"Godfrey," Sherlock began, leafing through a folder, "If all you need is our statement, you'll find it here and you can be off."

Greg typically categorised Sherlock’s games with his name as affectionate teasing, but today it was harder. Sherlock was more difficult, more of a berk, and he was clearly trying to excise Greg from his cosy evening in. Greg snatched the file away with a sniff and leafed through.

As ever, John had completed his statement and signed it. Sherlock's was blank. Nearly. Greg pulled the pages out and handed them to the lanky berk.

"You know you can't just write 'What John said' and sign your name."

"I contributed to his statement."

"I need your statement Sherlock, not an endorsement of John's. I'm going to make a tea since neither of you have offered and then you can dictate your statement to me." Greg stomped into the kitchen.

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@fluffbruary @totallysilvergirl @lisbeth-kk @etrebko @naefelldaurk

[human-monodam]

"Mikado!" *SHe shouts slamming her hand on the table, spooking everyone with her voice, even Mikado somewhat.* "No one is trying to force you to act in a certain way. We are, and always have been, trying our best to help you move on. Pain isn't easy to overcome and hearing the same thing about 'It depends on one's will' or 'you're not trying hard enough' or whatever you have already been told won't make it disappear immediately. We all have our own voids that aren't easy fill, but we don't let those voids have control over us. You said it yourself, family should stick together. But family must also be willing to understand and compromise with each other. You don't know this, but Monokuma did speak to us about this during the new year's victory celebration. We tried to convince him that he didn't need to go that far, but we came to an understanding and a compromise. A compromise that at certain times of the year or if he feels like it, he'll come up for a visit. He wanted to tell this himself, but only when you've calmed down and overcome the pain in your heart. Monokuma loves you with all his heart. He will always love you with all his heart. And sometimes that love involves doing things you might not always be happy with. I'm telling you this now because if even this is not enough to snap you out of this tantrum of yours, then the only option left is to confront Monokuma himself about it. if he still won't listen, try to make him listen. Drag him back by force, fight him, bit him, do anything you think will finally have some kind of a fuckign effect on him. But if you are going to do ANY of that, you will need to show him your resolve. if it wavers even slightly regardless of whatever the throws at you, then that's that and you'll have to live with the end result. when you come back empty handed, just know that I will be there for you. I'll be there to try to ease the pain of the hole he left in you. Have I made myself clear, young man?" *She stares down Mikado with a look so stern, anyone would cower in fear from the feeling alone.*

*Motherkuma and Nanokuma were seen in the living room playing a game of Jeopardy, with Motherkuma in the lead. Nanokuma was especially focused on a question: 'An item that gets wetter as it dries.' Nanokuma seemed to be stumped.* @human-monodam

Mikado walked over to the two and soon poked at Motherkuma, seeming a bit anxious.

"Pardon the interruption... Do you think you can gather everyone that's here? There's something i want to ask everyone."

[sgkjd]

i suck at communication so bad. and it's getting even worse bc lately i'm losing any motivation to try and make it work. i can see many opportunities slip away bc of this but eh.

[imminent-danger-came]

I was rewatching s2 last night, and ohhh man mk looks over mei so much it's not even funny. times mei has been ignored:

maybe you need to really listen! (during the blindfold ep)

mk just? grabs stuff she's using out of her hands all the time? (video game ep)

maybe you shouldn't skip the tutorials? (video game ep again)

the way he addresses her in dumpling destruction and then immediately pushes her aside for tang

i honestly remember it lowkey kinda bothering me on first watch but now it's REALLY egregious on rewatch. are you scared? I'm so scared. do you WANT to end up like shadowpeach MK

2x03 is so rude because the whole fucking episode they're like "MK you don't listen" and it's so true. He doesn't. Pigsy literally points it out again at the end of 4x14 with the whole sun screen bit:

Pigsy: "Tch, don't bother, I've been telling him that for years but he LITERALLY never listens." Sun Wukong: "Yep! That's how we role."

-

THEY'RE SO FUCKING RUDE. "That's how we role." We. We????? Wukong and MK???? Like WHATEVER. FINE. (("I told you going against the Jade Emperor was a bad idea, but no. Wukong doesn't listen to ANYONE! He just does whatever he wants" Like shut up. Shut up!))

MK gets so stuck in his own head ("You're all stuck up in your own head! None of this is your fault!" +1 to the MK ignoring Mei counter from 4x08) and I think that really contributes to his s2 scramble to get more powerful.

LIKE:

MK: "Stop? Now? Never! I just have to try harder. It's just like the Monkey King said! *laughs manically* I just need to get stronger!"

(2x06 Game On)

VS

MK: "Why didn't he just stop, right here? He was already so much stronger than anyone ever needed to be!" Macaque: "Wukong didn't think so, he always felt he had to be stronger—more immortal."

(4x11 A Lifetime of Mistakes)

-

(Bonus thing between eps 2x03 and 2x06, look at 0:42 in this video for MK hearing Mei but not listening to her. Because of course that's what he would do. *head in my hands .png*)

The terrible s2 choices both Wukong and MK make in relation to their friends is just absolutely delicious after 4x11. Like, OH. This has been a lifelong pattern of Wukong's—paranoia is one of his fatal flaws (paired with his terrible communication and self-sacrificial nature), and while he had the power to stop LBD before he still feel's the need to go after the Samadhi Fire to stop her now, and to protect MK.

Hold on look at this parallel that I don't know what to do with:

MK: "Ugh, I can't do it!"

Mei: "It's alright MK—you did it before, you'll do it again!" Sandy: "Yeah! Maybe it's like Monkey King said: the power will come when you need it most!"

(3x04 The Winning Side)

-

MK: "What! But you said the Samadhi fire was the only thing that could stop her!" Sun Wukong: "I KNOW WHAT I SAID! But I've beaten her before I'll- I'll do it again! Mei was right—I need to stop dragging you into my fights, all of you."

(3x10 The Samadhi Fire)

-

Wukong and MK's reach for power inspires a lot of fear in me! It does! Because, well, MK's current reach for power is going to lead him to his Monkey Form, and uh:

Like I'm scared. I'm scared!

"All doomed to play a role in tearing this world apart!" ; "This is Azure's utopia, and this barren wasteland is the price he paid to build it." ; "I'd do anything for my friends! But at the cost of the world?" "I'm sorry pal, ain't NOTHIN' worth that price!"

[summergoodwife]

Gonna say it again, "Just stop consuming the genre" is THE WORST POSSIBLE RESPONSE to someone complaining about the lack of representation in their preferred genre!! And "Consume other stuff too" is not much better!!! I don't care how much you think varying media consumption is a Good and Holy lifestyle, not everyone wants to do that! There is no obligation to do that and there should not be! Because it's fucking entertainment. It's not a college major.

And! And and and. I would be remiss to not point out that when you tell someone, "If you want well written (minority) just get out of (genre fandom)" you are, regardless of your motivations, rhetorically aligning yourself with the exact same bigots who just want the pro-representation crowd to shut up and go away.