#but the way you phrased some of that made me a bit mad

[wrongfulnoodle3120]

Right. Sorry, but I really don’t agree with you on this one. In regards to bodily autonomy and choice, both John and Arthur have a lot less of it than people who aren’t sharing a body would have. While Arthur still controls most of their body, and with it their actions, John controls all the visual input on which he bases his decisions. He doesn’t lie during this all that often (that we know of) but he does do it. John gives Arthur all the information he has to work from, while Arthur has no way to verify but has to trust him. Even in the beginning, when John (friend) isn’t all that trustworthy. He completely intends to use Arthur for his own goals and to use him as a tool. By killing Parker he forces Arthur to rely on him for sight, and to leave his life in Arkham behind. It’s either working together or getting imprisoned for a murder he didn’t commit. They both use each other as tools before they learn to care. While John and Arthur can move on into respecting each others needs on an emotional level, Arthur is still physically disabled and has to continue to „use“ John as his seeing-eye entity. Their very situation makes them horribly codependent. Arthur justifiably feels like his body is being taken away from him, and while John isn’t doing it on purpose, he‘s getting control. Losing control of ones body is horrific enough, without it being given to someone else. It is only natural that Arthur would harbour some resentment towards John for that initially, especially since John tries to leverage it for control („I have your eyes“). Their situation in general often leaves them with no one but each other to blame, which is fair to neither of them. They aren’t perfect, of course they lash out, of course they draw untenable lines in the sand. Their situation would be bad enough, even if they weren’t being constantly hunted, and consequently hurt, frustrated and on edge. Not really an environment all that conducive to team building, when each feel that they would be more competent, effective and free with complete control. In regards to his relationships, Arthur never being „taught“ how to properly treat people he cares about has the fucked up implications of blaming him gor losing his parents early. Neither Bella nor him wanted marriage, it didn’t feel right for either of them, and they were forced into it by the standards of their time and Daniel. It wasn’t that she loved him and he ran out on her, it was a shit situation all around, in which he had doubts and made mistakes, like a human being is wont to do. It landed him in a position as a single father which he wasn’t prepared or qualified for. Faroes death was an accident none the less, yes, he blames himself, yes, he is partially to blame, but he isn’t a monster for making a mistake, even if he sees himself as one. Her death is, first of all, a tragedy, and blaming and condemning him because of it is cruel, especially since he takes full ownership. Neither Arthur nor John are „wonderful“ or „toxic“ or perfect, they are flawed people in a bad situation growing and surviving together, and learning to accommodate each others needs better in the process. They are both multilayered individuals, and painting one of them as the clear villain only serves to flatten the story. Is Arthur horrible to John sometimes? Absolutely. Is he disregarding of Johns feelings a lot? Sure, a whole bunch before season 4. Its massively fucked up, given their dynamic is shifting toward parent/child territories, but neither of them chose this. Their relationship itself could be described as toxic, due to their codependency, I suppose.

I don't think we as a fandom are appreciating how wonderful John is, nor acknowledging how toxic Arthur is. Like, Arthur rarely ever asks how John feels about a situation, and even if he does they almost always do what Arthur wanted in the first place. I know that John says that it is always Arthur John's choice but??? John has never had any sort of friendship before?

I just wonder if John realises how much he is being taken advantage of. And I wonder if Arthur even realises how badly he is treating John because I feel like, based on how he acted with Bella, Faroe, and John, he wasn't taught how to properly treat people he cares about. I get that Arthur gets better after all the stuff in Bedrock but still, I am getting really sad about John right now because he is being treated as pretty much a tool to Arthur.

Idk, these are just my thoughts about them. I'm not sure if I am forgetting stuff in canon that strongly contradicts this (I know there are small things but not enough to really change my opinion on this) but I have big feelings rn about it

[puppyeared]

who up seeing their disorder in a fictional character but feel like its not their place to put a name on it

[verstappen-cult]

gonna take up on the request opening bc i love these lil blurbs you do with your moodboards! maybe "how they defend you online" esp charles and lando but if you feel like adding others its up to you !!

THE BOYS DEFENDING YOU FROM ONLINE HATE | F1 GRID

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

lando was streaming when you came home one day. once he heard the front door being closed and then your footsteps, he excused himself with his friends and viewers and went to greet you. when he came back, there were several texts from his friends letting him know of some not-so-friendly comments about you. suddenly, lando had something else to do and ended the whole thing. he did not tell you anything, lando simply waited until his next stream for what he wanted to do. it was very simple and definitely something lando would do; and staring right into the camera lando let the world know that if they don’t support his relationship, then he just doesn’t want their support at all. from then on, lando just blocked everyone who didn’t have anything good to say. you’re the most important person in his life, how can anyone hate you? and so, lando made a promise to himself: show the world the amazing girl you are.

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

even way before you started dating charles, receiving hateful comments and messages was a common occurrence. of course your boyfriend knew about it, everyone could see what was happening just by choosing a random picture on your instagram and reading the replies. it was sad, awful. but you didn’t want charles to do anything, you stopped him a lot of times because you didn’t want to bring too much attention into the whole thing. charles loves you and that is all that matters to you. it was, well, okay… until things became a little to real, a little too much, and charles couldn’t sit back and do nothing. so with a little bit of help from his team, he managed to write a very good and long statement about the whole thing. there were mixed opinions but things quiet down a little. and you weren’t happy at first, but something as simple as seeing your comment section hate-free made you forgive him sooner.

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

oscar is a man of very few words and never engages in online drama or gossip. if and when he’s online, oscar just wants to see cute and funny videos. he’s a formula one driver and people should only be interested in that part of his life, but he knows that will never be the case. however, he’s still surprised to see various comments around twitter about you. they are not about how beautiful or intelligent you are or how happy you seem to make oscar with your pretty smile and sense of humor – not that they would know that. not that they deserve to know that, either. some part of him wants to reply to those people who definitely don’t know you, he’s angry, disgusted. and the rational part of him tells him to simply don’t say anything because they don’t deserve it. so, oscar just clicks to make a new tweet and begins with a simple phrase “you don’t know anything about me or my life…” and so on. maybe he sounded a little harsh, maybe things will get worse; he couldn’t care less, as long as you’re not mad with him, he can live with being the center of the drama. oscar will never let anyone disrespect you.

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

max doesn’t care what people think and have to say about him, that ship has sailed a long time ago. but he can’t ignore when people say mean things about you, he just can’t, so, he doesn’t. max replies to every single tweet and comment on both his and your instagram that he sees, he goes directly to the point and if he’s mean then, who cares? maybe it’s a little bit childish but he doesn’t care, max will not allow anyone to talk shit about his girl. and if he needs to make a video or do an interview or whatever he needs to do to make people understand that you are part of his life and forever will be, then he will be more than happy to do them. max is almost never online, so when all of this happens he makes sure to make time to be online, to post a picture of you on his instagram story, to post a photo of your vacation together on his feed, to say how much he loves you via twitter, to mention you when he has the chance during an interview. he loves making you blush and seeing you trying to hide your smile when you see all those things. max also loves pissing people off.

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

alex tries to be friendly. when he sees someone say something not good about his girlfriend, he doesn’t hesitate to prove them wrong and defend you. he knows you’re more than capable of doing it and has seen you doing it before; he loves it. but there’s this something inside of him trying to break free and just let everyone know the funny, pretty, amazing, kind girl he’s lucky to call his girlfriend. so, alex lets it free and goes liking, retweeting and replying to every single comment about you and how shiny and nice your hair is, how you seem to make alex so happy and how he’s always smiling around you (he makes sure to let them know why is that), how lucky alex is to have you by his side, and so on and on and on until there’s nothing more for him, until he can’t think about the mean things people said, until you are laughing next to him and calling him obsessed and kissing him like your life depends on it.

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

daniel chooses a catchy song and changes some of the lyrics, then sets his phone down and sits with a big smile and his guitar. when the video starts, he simply says “this is dedicated to all of the assholes thinking that is okay to hate on someone’s girlfriend just because.” and then he starts singing. there are a lot of bad words and cursing and long pauses looking directly into the camera without losing that big and pretty smile he has. daniel then uploads the video to all his platforms with a little paragraph about why bullying is bad and why you should mind your own business because he’s not that interesting anyway and it won’t make him break up with you because some trolls are practically begging him to. he ends up getting in trouble for not consulting with his team before doing what he did, something that has him going viral, so viral that people outside of formula one and people who don’t even who he is talk about it. exactly what he wanted.

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

the moment mick has to hold you in his arms as you cry because you’d read something mean about you, it’s the exact moment he decides to do something about it. he doesn’t want to cause drama or make things worse, so, it takes him a little while and some long calls with his sister to know what to do. mick puts the poetry classes you two take a few months ago to good use and writes the most beautiful and romantic poem you and everyone would ever read. it is about you, about his love for you, about what you mean to him and everything he likes about you. he posts a little phrase to his instagram stories and sets a time and day for when it will be posted it. when the day cames and you get to read it, you end up crying again but for a whole different reason. it’s not that you didn’t know mick loved you but it’s the gesture, the time he spent doing it, the fact that he wanted to do it and wanted the whole world to read his love letter to you, something that will forever be there.

© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[staryuee]

Hii friend <3

I dont know really know if requests are still open but i wanted to ask if you could do any genshin characters with a rude s/o?

If not you're always aloud to delete the request :)

HOW YOU MAD AT ME, ‘CUZ I’M CUNT, BITCH?

꒰warnings꒱ cursing…obviously LOL

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . you wouldn’t call yourself rude just…”free-spirited” and liberal in your word choices~! ^_−☆

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . eula, xiao, thoma, ei, furina, navia, wriothesley

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . if i had a victorian era shilling for the amount of times my friend has called me rude after i’ve made a comment about something i would be the next ebenezer scrooge (⊙_⊙)

EULA — 优菈

now while eula would normally abhor at the foul language and insults that so easily spew from your precious lips, she actually can’t help but be oddly bemused.

i mean her expectations for linguistics are awfully high, one mustn’t speak with little eloquence but your brashness was oddly…charming, and refreshing in a way. you weren’t afraid to offend people, and simply enjoyed the motto of “i won’t apologise for what i said, i’ll apologise for how it made you feel.”

eula is of course someone who’s treated like the poster-woman for the concept of rudeness given her past and current feigned ego, so honestly you sort of make her feel better about herself — not in a negative way, in the way that she just simply doesn’t feel that lonely anymore.

if anyone has so much as a word to speak against you due to something you’ve said, they can speak to her first. the entirety of teyvat is allowed to shudder if she so much as so breathes, but when it comes to you? vengeance will be severed with a side of wine.

XIAO — 魈

stop. please. xiao is already overwhelmed enough by the varieties of his duties, all his patrolling — and now he has to make sure his lover isn’t in an argument with someone or being threatened to literal death.

he frankly doesn’t really care about the way you speak, sure it’s surprising at first since the majority of people in liyue hold themselves in a way that seems a bit more…calm, but then again sometimes that within itself can be seen as a rude attempt at pacification of genuine feelings.

you’ve never been mean or rude to him, directly at least, so he literally doesn’t care how brutal or venomous your words are, so long as you don’t get yourself in too much trouble. people haven’t seen the yaksha so an edge whenever a person opens their mouth since, well, ever.

he’s never brought up your attitude or personality; he loves you wholly, even if some parts of you are a bit more prickly than rosy.

THOMA — 托马

“haha, they were just joking!” you ticked off another five on your little notepad with a careful swoosh of your pen.

thoma has had to repeat that very phrase so much to the point you’ve been keeping a safe tally on a notepad of whenever he says it. to be honest, you don’t even believe five can be multiplied this many times…

your rudeness and foul language comes as an innate package, and thoma has no problem in neatly tying that package up with a little bow to placate whoever you managed to horribly offend that day. you fear that one day, if thoma isn’t there, you’ll find yourself being interrogated by kujo sara, maybe in a more lucky scenario heizou, herself.

“thoma can you do this f—“

“no.”

“i— wasn’t asking you??”

“you didn’t need to, now fuck off (๑･̑◡･̑๑). don’t be incompetent and you wouldn’t have to ask someone else to constantly do shit for you.”

RAIDEN EI — 影

if not directed to herself directly, she finds you absolutely amusing. she literally cannot be a spokesperson against rudeness after her uhum many self-made and self-fulfilled tragedies, plus she herself can be rather verbally off putting therefore, she has little problems with how you address others.

she does, however, keep a very keen eye on you to make sure you don’t stir up trouble with the wrong crowd.

but, hey! the great thing about dating a highly revered archon is the fact literally no-one will speak out against you.

“[name] told me to kill myself when i said hi in the morning…” and guess what? all of a sudden they have a long voyage to the fiery volcanoes of natlan planned out. criticism is only allowed if it’s aimed at her, not you — you’re basically an extension of her, if anyone so much so demeans you because of your attitude, it’s almost like they’re disrespecting the electro archon herself.

that’s a crime the citizens of inazuma have long learned the lesson of.

FURINA — 芙宁娜

she loves you purely for the theatrics and dramatics you always managed to find yourself in. it always seems like drama follows you wherever you simply step — and hey, she’s an actress, it’s no wonder she’s so easily charmed and swayed with the way your voice rings out blunt responses like it were second nature.

and to be fair, she’s a massive instigator of conflict. on the sidelines of course. so when you perhaps “accidentally” rub someone the wrong way, she can’t help but use sarcasm to throw fuel into the fire and watch the hellish flames burn as she kicks back with a cup of tea and a slice of cake (you know, like a true mirror to marie antoinette)

i think your duo would be even funnier and more undoubtedly chaotic if you have british humour and or slang equipped because let’s be so real if this was modern furina would force neuvillette to act like her roadman guard-dog while she sold 50p sweets during break time to the year 8s. throw in a little “yute” or “op” and she has heart eyes all over you (i promise this is all for the sake of comedy…)

NAVIA — 娜维娅

the best part of being in a relationship is being able to chat shit about anyone and everything, because well, you’re each-other’s everything already, why rely on the kindness of strangers for validation?

you and navia do the thing where you’ll subconsciously glance at each-other from the corners of your eyes when someone (or people) say some dumb silly shit. the problem being, neither of you can keep quiet and immediately will begin giggling and will make it inevitably worse by whispering to one another “stop!” and “don’t laugh—“ while holding your mouths to stifle yourselves.

this leads to people being rather nervous to speak to navia when you’re around. usually, navia is very friendly and softly spoken; often she’ll be a rather happy-go-lucky and caring girl who smiles no matter what — of course this doesn’t mean she’ll allow people to walk all over her, but hey she believes in second chances — but when you’re around…people will loiter around creepily before gathering the courage to ask for help or whatever they need.

navia is at heart however, a very loving and respectful person so she will remind you of when you’ve stepped out of line. sometimes rudeness is just an innate quality that people have and it’s sometimes not intended out of malice; even petty things like lateness or speaking out of turn counts as “rudeness”, and navia is here to either make excuses up for you or to defend you from criticism ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

oh he absolutely eats this shit up. every argument, insult, fight etcetera you’ve ever had is kept in a personal file somewhere in his cabinet just for memories sake. wriothesley’s life is already quite dramatic and hectic as it can be, the fortress of meropide could honestly sometimes be described as a form of circus within itself especially if you’re involved, but he revels in your antics nonetheless.

you’re literally so fucking hilarious, each time he hears those heavy doors heave open beneath him he just KNOWS shit has gone down and you’re about to dramatise it for him live.

you best believe he’s an instigator the same way furina is; whispering to you and then giggling when you use his encouragement as some sort of reference while you practically spit venom at the person who’s unfortunately become your centre of focus.

he won’t allow you to stir up too much trouble in the fortress of meropide but being his partner you get the perk of not getting into nearly as much trouble as you would if you were one of the criminals down in the fortress (unless you are then…well you’re special so it doesn’t matter!)

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

[fireflysymphony]

Kinks I think Aventurine would have

MDNI 18+ content ahead

A/N: I wanted to make one for Aventurine too since he’s the love of my life. Hope you enjoy this little menace <3

Word Count: 1.9k

Content Warning: I tried to make it as gender neutral as possible but phrases like “princess,” “pretty thing,” and “good girl/boy” are used as well, possibility of female anatomy being mentioned, Aventurine refers to himself as “daddy,” bondage, a lot of pet names that are both praising and degrading, mirror sex, exhibitionism, don’t tell Aventurine but he has a bit of a DDLG/B complex, body worship, dom/sub roles, mentions of spanking, not proofread, let me know if I need to add anything else <3

Pet Names

ANY nickname is fair game. One moment you're his princess, pretty girl/boy, good girl/boy, etc. and then like five minutes later he’s calling you his bitch, whore, slut, and whatever else have you. It’s always a 50/50 chance on what you get, and no, these pet names aren’t solely for the bedroom. You could be out with Aventurine, minding your own business, when you hear him say “yeah, they’re just my whore, aren’t they the loveliest little peach you’ve ever seen? ^^” And you just have to sit there wondering what made you fall in love with him in the first place. And those are only the slightly suggestive nicknames. He’ll pull out the most embarrassing or babying nicknames he can think of ALL THE TIME, but that’s a discussion for another time. Like everything with Aventurine, a give and take is a must. Just like the debt collector he is, he’s making you pay him back for giving you such cute and unique pet names, despite your protests that his names are in fact not unique and some aren’t cute. When you do eventually agree, You’re in luck since Aventurine has the perfect nicknames already picked out for you to call him. Why don’t you start calling him daddy? He’s not subtle about the title he wants to be called and may whine about it if you refuse to address him as such. You can appease him by calling him some other authoritative nickname. Mr. Aventurine or my dear sir are two of his favorites. One day though you decided to be a little shit and call him Mr. Bossy Pants, and he pouted for a good five minutes before bending you over his knee and teaching you a lesson. He can get pissy about the smallest things. Even as the “dom” in the relationship, he’s more of a whiny needy bitch than anyone. (Bonus: he’s probably tried to call you pookie before too).

—

Aventurine stomped his foot against the ground, wearing an annoyed glare as he gave you a look like he was waiting for you to say something— or more likely waiting for you to apologize for what you just did. You couldn’t help but snicker, not addressing Aventurine with a nickname was almost if not worse than fucking him over in a game of cards.

“What’s wrong, Aventurine? You look like you want to say something.” You cover your mouth to hide your smile which is when he grabbed your wrists, holding them with one hand and using the other to pull you closer.

“You know what you did, princess! I don’t even go that far.” Aventurine pouts harder, lowering down to kiss your neck as if that would suck the pet names out of you. He didn’t understand why you were doing this. Did you want attention, or was it…

Oh.

You were trying to provoke him. He could see it in the way your eyes crinkled and sparkled whenever he looked at you. Devilish little thing, getting off on being punished by him.

“I get it now. I think you need to be taught a lesson for disrespecting me, naughty thing.” He smiled innocently, a teasing lilt to his words as he nuzzled your nose with his. His hands wandered down to your ass, and he yanked you flush against him. “Do you think you can handle it? Because I’ll have you screaming ‘daddy’ whether you want to or not.”

Mirror Sex

He’ll love this ESPECIALLY if it embarrasses you. He likes making you watch yourself and showing you how good he makes you feel. Even if you're bratty or mad at him, you can’t escape him and will come crawling to him on all fours if it means you get another taste of him. He will also either hold or tie your hands behind your back to stop your from covering yourself. If you force his hand, he’ll even tie your legs apart, so be good and keep them spread because that’s a hassle! He’s not at all patient with a shy partner either if that wasn’t easy to tell. If you have any bodily insecurities, then you probably shouldn’t tell him because then those are the body parts he focuses on most. He has a big thing for body worship, particularly your body, but if you’re really uncomfortable with it, he’s more than happy to talk through it with you and lighten up. Back to the body worship, as I’ve mentioned before, everything is a two way street with him, so he expects you to worship his body back, but that can always be saved for another day.

—

“Look at you, such a pretty thing.”

He positioned you on one of his knees, both legs spread apart and his hand playing with you between your legs. Your wrists were tied behind your back with a piece of silky rope, Aventurine using his other hand to keep your face pointed towards the mirror. “You can’t wait to get fucked like this, huh? I know you like seeing just how pretty you are as you get filled with my cock. No, no, princess, don’t try to look away now.”

He dug his nails into your cheeks to keep you still, kissing you along your neck and collarbone. He nibbled on the soft bits of skin he knew would elicit a noise from you, bruising the spots he knew people would see. Sometimes, he thought about wearing lipstick just so he had a map of places he kissed on you. If there weren't lipstick smears everywhere, he wasn’t doing his job right. But since he didn’t have any on, he’d just leave little love bites everywhere!

You watched him do this, the warmth of his fingers between your thighs sending jolts of pleasure through your nerves. It was difficult to believe that the person squirming and whining in the mirror was you, and it was getting more impossible to want to look away. Seeing yourself drool like this while you loll your head back against Aventurine’s chest was almost surreal. You bucked your hips, watching the motion with an agasped look. Being Aventurine’s little whore on display was starting to feel not so bad.

“D’aw, pretty baby, you’re getting all needy, aren’t you? It’s barely been five minutes and you’re already ready for me to fuck you dumb?” His fingers left you, drenched and soaking from your juices. You shivered, both in shame and satisfaction as you watched him lick them clean, taking his time as his tongue swirled around each finger as if he was savoring the taste of you.

“Mhm…please daddy, f-fuck me. I wanna see you do it…” You whispered, hovering your hips slightly off his lap. He grabbed your hips, stilling you before beginning to gently rock you against his clothed dick.

“You already know what daddy wants to hear. I can’t tell if that makes you my good girl/boy or just a common slut.” He groaned, feeling himself grow harder through his pants. “I’ll give you what you want, babydoll. I want you to see how drenched my cock is when we’re through. You’d like that, yeah? Show both of us how good it feels to be daddy’s little toy.”

Exhibitionism

He’ll take you out to casinos with him and call you his “lucky charm.” During rounds of poker, he’ll keep you on his lap with a hand on your thigh, laughing and chatting along with whoever he’s playing against that night. Only you and him know that the real reason he’s here is to collect some minor debts from people, but since when did that stop him from having a little fun along the way? During these nights, you can always tell what he’s up to since he always requests you wear something with easier access to your nether regions. If you refuse him, he’ll still paw at you through your pants or pull them down all together. It’s your funeral if anyone sees, not his. He was even kind enough to advise you beforehand! He likes the thrill in watching you squirm, and you always know when he’s enjoying himself because a little twinkle appears in his eyes when a little noise slips from your lips. For a man who always wins his bets, that twinkle is rare to see when an ordinary poker game is going on.

—-

“I heard that, you know. A little whore like you can’t even keep your moans quiet in a place like this? I’m not even touching you yet either!” His chin rested on your shoulder, and though his words were whispered and only for your ears, the possibility of someone else hearing him sent a shiver down your spine. The way he had you on display was already suspicious enough— in his lap with one hand constantly under the table. Aventurine made it a point to kiss your neck and nibble at your ear whenever someone around them glanced your way. Everyone in this damned casino had to know what he was doing. Aventurine probably paid them off to keep them quiet, right? You knew him best and that was the only explanation as to why everyone was acting so normal.

“Relax, pretty girl/boy, you’re trembling and not from my fingers down there.” The warmth from his airy chuckle fanned over the back of your neck, your hairs standing up. He continued caressing your thigh, his fingers climbing dangerously close to your nether regions— enough to make you stiffen and your breath hitch— before they returned to their usual place. His nails dug into the skin of your inner thigh, pinching and kneading at the fleshy skin. “I’ve got you, my sweet good luck charm. Our little secret under the table is safe unless you really want me to stop.”

His hand left your thigh, resting on the table near his half full glass of champagne. You bit your bottom lip, squirming to try to relieve the ache between your legs. “Careful, if you keep moving like this, everyone will know how much of a slut you are. You didn’t want that before, so-“

You couldn’t take much more of his teasing, so you grabbed his hand and set it back on your thigh. “Keep going, now. I need this.” You gritted your teeth, leaning your head on his chest. Hopefully, the rest of the casino goers saw it as you being tired and resting on your boyfriend instead of what it really was.

“Tch. I didn’t hear a ‘please sir’ or a ‘da-“

“Please, daddy, I want you to fuck me right now in this casino. Just… I fucking need you! So hurry.” You whined, and you swear you saw that damned twinkle flash in his eyes for a split second. How was he having fun with this?

“As you wish, but you’ve made these past few minutes rather difficult. I couldn’t focus on the game.” His palm pressed into your clothed private parts, pressing down harshly before beginning to rhythmically paw at you. He thumbed the band of your bottoms in preparation for what’s to come. “If you end up coming from this and ruining th in e nice outfit I bought you, I hope you know what fate awaits you when we’re home.”

Requests are open <3

[guppybibi]

𖦹 pairing: John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x fem!reader

𖦹 content: Crack & fluff, not proofread, ooc i think

𖦹 notes: more self indulgent fics, posted this later than expected

The phrases “I’m hungry” or “I’m starving" will practically be non-existent to you once you get together with John. You, his missus, hungry? Oh we just can't have that, that's as bad as the world getting striked by a humongous meteor! He needs to make sure his beloved missus is well fed, what kind of husband is he if otherwise?

Don't even move, he's already mixing up a bunch of different ingredients to make some sort of Scottish concoction that's usually either a hit or miss for your personal taste. The next second, you're getting a spoonful of whatever he made stuffed in your mouth.

So when he sees you reject the airplane of food whooshing towards your mouth, a baffled look is on his face. He swore he heard your stomach grumble, he's positive! “Urr ye nae hungry, bonnie? Ah swear ah heard yer tummy rumbling.” He gulped, setting the bowl and utensils aside and going right over next to you.

“I’m alright, not hungry today.” You snappily reply, as if a worm was in your brain telling you to chop-chop. Turning your head over to the TV, you leave Johnny to purse his lips in disapproval. Did you not like the food he made? No, you would've directly told him that. His mind starts to wander, like it was on an adventure to find out what was wrong. Though the grumbling of your stomach pulls him out of his thoughts, alerting the big red ‘worry’ button in his mind.

“Did ah dae somethin’ wrong?” He quizzes, nuzzling his face into your neck. The feeling of his warm breath fanning against your neck making you twitch a bit, but not enough to water down your fiery anger. “You ate the last pudding cup, John MacTavish.” You answer straightforwardly, looking at him right in the eye. Uh ohh..This wasn't good. If he was afraid of anything it wouldn't be guns and explosions, (Though he still flinches at the sound of fireworks sometimes, don't tell anyone that. It's confidential information.) it’d be his angry missus.

“O-oh..did ah, bonnie?” His voice faltering, the sweat beading at his forehead betraying him as it clearly showed his nervousness at the moment. “Don't act stupid, MacTavish! I saw the plastic cup in the bin!” You shout back in an accusatory tone, your brows furrowing while you point at him. If he was a puppy, his ears would be down right now. You could even visualize it, with the way he was pouting his lips in guilt there was no doubt about it.

“C’mon i’m sorry, bonnie..i didnae mean tae eat it, 'twas in th' fridge fur lik' a week.” He apologizes sincerely, gentle eyes all over you. “Ah thought ye didnae waant it anymair.” His expression and tone was making it hard for you to stand your ground, it was blowing out the burning wick of the candle that existed at the back of your mind.

“Forgive me, please?” The Scot pleads, noticing that you were giving in. It was the perfect time to start using the puppy eyes on you. You couldn't stay mad at him for long, even if you wanted to. “Fine..” And with that, he's all over you. Kissing every region of your face affectionately, he really was like a puppy. You could imagine a fluffy little tail wagging right now.

“Ah promise tae buy ye mair puddin..” He was for sure going to keep that promise.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Eisteddfod Chairs: Pick Your Winner!

It's almost June! Nearly time to reveal the 2023 Chair! So come, gather round Tumblrs, let me tell you of the furniture-based customs of my people

So Wales has been celebrating Eisteddfodau (festivals of poetry, music, and disco dancing), in some form or another, since at least the 1100s, when Lord Rhys of Dinefwr had one all formal-like and made it into a big fun party and that. The word basically means 'sitting place', and probably refers to the way people in summer would gather round the twmpath in the village to listen to bards that passed through and drink mead and shout 'hurrah!' a lot. Amazingly, this is not where the Chair Thing comes from.

Part of Welsh history is the Bardic Age, and it was custom for bards to travel the country and visit the courts of assorted gentry types (also normal people's houses and taverns and twmpaths but let's stay on topic) and play for them. If the lord paid well, great; if not, the bard would write a Super Mean Song about them and sing it everywhere, so they were pretty well treated.

But if they were particularly good, rather than making them play for the WHOLE meal, the lord would offer them a chair at the table to join in the feast as a guest, rather than a worker, and THAT is where the Chair Thing comes from.

Anyway that's preamble to say that every year in the biggest Eisteddfod of all - the Eisteddfod Genedlaethol - the highest honour awarded goes to the Prifardd - the bard who writes the winning cywydd (super complex Welsh poetry WE DON'T HAVE TIME TO EXPLAIN ALL OF THIS). And the prize for writing the winning cywydd is that you are awarded, you guessed it, the Chair.

Now these Chairs (capital C, please, we like a bit of Fantasy Novel Capitalisation and for this cultural reason I will never understand people who complain about it) are unique. They are thrones. They are carved each year by one chosen carpenter, who crafts a one-of-a-kind Chair with symbolism and that, never to be replicated. They usually have the year carved on, but otherwise, they vary wildly in aesthetic and symbolism. In a No Award year (because Eisteddfod judges don't subscribe to the Western idea that there HAS to be a first, second and third place; if no one is good enough there is no award, and I have seen choir competitions for seven year olds where there was no first or third place but there were two choirs in joint second), the Chair is sent back to the carpenter who carved it, and they get to keep it. In a year where the bard died before the ceremony, it is draped in black, and given to next of kin.

(That has only happened once. RIP Hedd Wyn, 1887-1917. Also the only reproduced Chair; the original, known as the Gadair Ddu (the Black Chair) is on display in his family home, but a 3D printed replica has been made for display by Amgueddfa Cymru)

BUT THEREFORE a big part of Eisteddfod fun is seeing what the Chair will look like this year. Traditional ones, see, we tend to think look like variants of this:

(Apologies for the substandard attempts at alt-text; I have no clue how to describe these properly)

This one is from 1896. The phrase "Y gwir yn erbyn y byd" means "The truth against the world", and was included in a lot of old ones. Modern ones tend to incorporate the druidic symbol for awen ("poetic inspriation") instead. Some of these incidentally turn up in lil' chapels and that about the country.

But actually even the old ones were mad different, look; clockwise from top left, these are y Gadair Ddu (1917), 1876, 1926 (when the carpenter was Chinese and enjoyed the cultural fusion), and 1908.

Still the same theme, though, but in the modern day the carpenters are all off the shits! They're all over the place! Fuck the rules! And I have Opinions.

Category: I See What You Did There

SYMBOLISM!!! 2011 is a pit wheel from Wrexham's mining past! 2013 is the head of a harp, from Denbighshire's cultural harp-making past! 2017 is fish, from Anglesey's maritime present! Fantastic. Love it.

Best in category: 2017. Why does Anglesey's have so many eyes on the fish? We don't know. Wylfa B protestors reportedly furious.

Category: The Modern Throne

TALL!!! That silhouette! That height!! They have the range, darling! Christ knows 2016 doesn't have anything else going for it! Shout out to the Conwy river on 2019, the different woods from the forests of Maldwyn for 2015, and the red kite symbolism for Ceredigion in 2022 (the spiritual home of the bird, where the species was first saved).

Best in category: 2019, Conwy. I like the bridge and the river lines and the water effect on the front of the seat it's just so pretty.

Category: That's Just A Chair

(I am actually friends with the Prifardd who won 2018 at the bottom there :D )

WHAT ARE RULES WE JUST WANT FUNCTIONAL CHAIRS. Man even so 2014 was fucking ugly. You could have 2018 in your house. Around your table, like. Even 2012 has a sort of IKEA vibe that's boring but palatable. 2014 is only coming in the house under sufferance.

Best in Category: 2018, easy, and not just because it's the one I'm most likely to get to sit in one day. It's pretty.

Category: NO GODS NO CHAIRS NO MASTERS

WHAT

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED IN 2010

BRO I DO NOT THINK YOU TRIED

Best in Category: OBVIOUSLY 2021 I COULD PHYSICALLY MAKE 2010 MYSELF

[bunnypeew]

Venom - Alastor x gn!reader

WARNINGS: Angst, Fluff, self harm mentioned slightly

oke so again i’m very sad recently,, for reasons,,, so i wanted to write a angst that ends in fluff so you’ve been warned, may be ooc for Alastor!

they never had such a fight to the point where Y/n cried, sniffling and hiccuping all the the way into the argument, and Alastor didn’t know how to handle this since he was mad, he was also in and out of his demon form but he was keeping it at bay as not to hurt them.

“Al you are not listening to me,,

they say with a sigh, then dry away their tears and straights themself up, now with a determined look on their face, they then turned around to leave.

Alastor was taken aback by this move and sent a tentacle to their wrist to stop them from opening the door.

“where do you think you’re going, mon cher?,,

he says in an assertive tone, but still soft at the end of the phrase. He was scared, he was getting scared they were gonna leave and never comeback, he hated that they made him weak, soft.

“i’m going out, I-I just need a moment Al sorry,,

they took off the tentacle gently, he didn’t use force he went limp and looked at them leaving his radio tower, leaving him to himself.

a few hours had gone by and all Alastor did was bounce his foot on the floor and tap his staff with his long claws, he was waiting, surely they’d comeback to him like they always did right? it wasn’t that bad of a fight to him, it was one like the other.

to them tho it was a disappointment, more proof he didn’t listen when they spoke

they went to their hotel room and hid under the blankets of their bed, still crying and sniffling away their pain. Words were stuck in their throat, they felt like venom that was about to kill them, they didn’t like to think bad about Alastor, they loved him a lot so these thoughts were intruding their brain without permission, they started hitting their head slightly, they tended to do that when they were really upset or having a panic attack, they were having also problems breathing so they got up to go to the bathroom to free their nose, that was until they heard a soft knock on the door, it was his classical knock, they flopped their arms down from their nose and sighed, now walking towards the door, cracking it a little bit to see Al staring outside, smile strained as to show he was also very upset, he never did stop smiling but they noticed whenever his emotions shifted.

“mon cher, may i come in please,,

they started considering, looking at the floor then looking back at Alastor then sighing again, they then opened the door for him letting him in the walked and buried themself in th blankets once again.

Alastor had noticed how puffy their eyes were as soon as they opened the door, making him understand that they had been crying for a while now, since they left anyways.

He sits softly down in the bed near them, placing his cane down next to him, he softly sighed looking at the bundle of blankets, still hearing sniffles and cries, his hand reaching out to stroke them but stopped mid air, then flopping back into place next to his body.

“Tu sais, je n'aurais jamais pensé que tu me quitterais comme ça, tu m'as fait peur,,

“You know, i never thought you'd walk out on me like that, you scared me,,

he was speaking french, which meant he was really stressed and truthful, being genuine at the very least, they put their hands in their hair and started pulling slightly Alastor could feel something was wrong so he took the blanket off from their head, seeing what they were doing his heart sunk, he soflty took their hands and pulled them towards his face, they were whining a little bit at the contact and cried even more.

Alastor started kissing at their knuckles, stroking softly with his clawed hands then looked them in the eyes

“I don’t want you hurting yourself because of me, understood?,,

he breathes on their hands kissing again and waiting for some sort of reply from them, they struggled but murmured a little sorry before hiccuping

“oh mon cœur, you don’t have to say sorry, come here,,

he opened his arms for them to crawl on his chest and get comfortable, he started stroking their hair, kissing on it then they sit there in silence for a little while so they could come down

“I adore you, you know that right?,,

he says softly, they nod slightly

everything was peachy again, good.

AAAH I LOVED WRITING THIS!! again it’s a little ooc but i needed it,, i’m a sucker for soft Alastor hope you enjoyed!!

[ohcaptains]

abby love theme

pairing. abby anderson x f!reader

synopsis. abby begs for forgiveness. then tries to make it up to you. 

an. :) hey. do people read this bit? lemme know if you read this bit. also, did you know i’m a gamer girl now? --  looks like i’ve made writing for a dead fandom a thing so, might as well carry on. apologies if this isn’t your thing, but abby got me out of a month long writing slump so ! 

warnings. 18+. this is sexually explicit, do not read this or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy my shit, i’ll find out. female receiving oral, female receiving penetration (fingers), spit play, slightly mean! abby, hair pulling, and angst but mostly just graphic smut lol.

When Abby comes back, she’s apologetic. 

She unlocks the door – as quietly as humanly possible – and gently pushes it back into the latch. Then, as always, bolts the top and bottom, an instinct, from doing it every night. 

She’s always the first person up, and the last person in. Always the last one to get into bed – on your side, because you’re always asleep on her side – and the last one to say goodnight.

Now, though, she’s saying, “I’m sorry.” Standing at the edge, and whispering it at the back of your head, the soft verbiage a thunderclap in the soundless cocoon of your room. If you heard her, you give her no inclination. 

It looks as if you’re sound asleep, and usually, Abby would do her best not to disturb your peace, but right now, she’s seconds away from begging.

So, she does something similar.

Clambers onto your shared bed, knees digging into the springs, and shuffles up close. Plunges her hands under and around you, and pulls you against her, speaking before you can. Just, speaking into the back of your neck – lips wet and swollen from her nervous chewing.

“I’m sorry I yelled,” she starts, which, in her mind, is the crux of the whole ordeal. Shouldn’t have yelled, shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, and yelled and that’s exactly what she’s saying, saying, I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions and got distant and annoying. I’m sorry I didn’t hear you out. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t be mad at me.

Hands tighten around your middle, and at some point, you grab onto them. “I thought – “she’s going again. “I thought you were pulling away, so I did the same. It was stupid and childish and I’m sorry, I won’t – “

She repeats it like she’s stuck in a loop.

“– I won’t do it again I promise.”

She kisses the back of your neck and nuzzles deeper like she’s trying to imprint it onto your spinal cord – forcing it to travel up into your brain. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. I’ll stay, hear you out – won’t yell, I’m sorry.”

Her kisses travel across your jaw, all punctuated with the same apologetic phrase. You’re awake now – awake as soon as she clambered onto the bed, as graceful as a truck – and you twist to greet her mouth.

Kiss her, and shut her up, yet still – she manages to say it again.

“’ m’ sorry,” she mumbles into your mouth. You can taste how sorry she is. Feel it, the desperation, in her wandering hands – pulling you into her, palming your lower back and twisting your shirt into her fist. 

She says it as she rolls on top of you. Her knees push against your hips, ass against your crotch, and she’s still got your top stretched between her fingers.

Abby tongues her way into your mouth and you gasp, lifting your head off of the pillows to follow her mouth. “’ m’ sorry,” she goes again, making out with you. Wet and wanting, the kind of kiss that could only happen at two in the morning.

The gasp you sounded before turns into a whimper. Her kiss is intoxicating and knocks you for six – makes you loose and easy to manoeuvre. Abby drags kisses over your cheek, scattering them under your jaw as she repeats her apology again and again.

The heat of her, the weight of her – consumes you. You’d forgiven her hours ago. Feels like you’d always forgive Abby, no matter what she did. Even if she was quick to anger. Read things wrong. She always came home with her tail between her legs.

“Don’t yell at me like that again, Abby.”

“I won’t — “she immediately goes, her voice strained. She lifts her head and watches you, inches away, her face clouded in darkness. “I promise. I promise, um’sorry.”

Abby is gorgeous. Always has been. But she’s never more gorgeous than when she’s inches away, mouth against yours, with her blue eyes big and wanting. When she dips to kiss your neck again, you sigh out into your shared bedroom.

“’s��� okay, baby,” you breathe – finally – eyes fluttering closed and fingers reaching to slide into her hair. You hum, the swell of her mouth and wet of her tongue opening you up. It forces your legs to hang open around her hips. 

Makes you loose and liquid, but she switches, sucks at the hollow of your throat, and you tighten up, fingers, legs, and hips -- pushing up into hers.

“Fuck—” you moan, back arching, “’s’ okay, Abby.”

It’s like she can’t hear you.

Spurred on by an obscene need, she’s sucking bruises into your skin. Gripping at your clothing and pulling it into her fist – tight -- not daring to let go.

“Abby,” you whisper, trying to turn to her, but she refuses to budge. Just. Sits on your lap and marks you with her mouth. She’s still cladded in her pants, the ones with the pockets and buckles. Wearing her shirt with the cut-off sleeves, smelling faintly of the gym.

Had gone to work her frustration out, then came home to apologise. Again, and again and again and she says it, again. Grounds her hips into yours, and you don’t think she even knows she’s doing it. Don’t think she knows she’s pushing the buckle of her belt against your crotch, the bite of it grinding through your sleep shorts.

“Mm, Abby,” you sigh again, twisting – again. Still, she doesn’t move. You grip the back of her head and pull her hair, catching her lips in yours before she can complain. You kiss her as she kissed you before. Tongue in her mouth, desperation in your fingertips – Abby mumbles, sorry, between the spit and teeth.

“I know,” you whisper, jutting your hips against hers.

“I know, baby,” you repeat, dragging the words under her chin, followed by the mesh of your mouth, teeth scraping against her jaw. You kiss away the red, say, I know, and taste her again. Repeat the motion, and Abby loves it. Has always loved when you got a little rough with her. 

Takes a lot for Abby Anderson to break. She hums your name, and whispers, “Fuck,” when you suck a mark under her jaw, then, suddenly, she’s pulling away.

Leans back on your lap, tall and overwhelming, and reaches down, dragging the hem of her shirt up and over her head. You gaze at her as she throws it behind her, followed by the tug of her bra, and before you get the chance to gaze at her chest, she’s back and kissing you.

“Lemme make it up to you,” she breathes into your mouth. She pushes her chest into yours, and you feel her – the lines of her muscles, the softness of her tits, and Abby clutches your vest again, so tight that you’re basically not wearing it – the fabric bunched up in the middle. 

You whisper, “take my shirt off then,” and she takes your shorts off, too.

Strips you bare, and kisses where your clothes once touched. Tongue curling around a nipple, fingers tugging at the other – trailing spit down your belly, palm flat on your heart, hips stretching lower and lower, until you watch her drag her teeth under your belly button.

You choke a gasp, and Abby smiles. A small one, but it’s there, and it twists mischievously as she lowers her tongue and swirls it above your crotch. “Shit – Abs,” you whisper, pulling your knuckles into your mouth. 

You’re so sensitive there, and Abby knows. Knows that the feeling always shoots down lower and pushes against your clit. Abby’s chest is barely brushing against it.

She swirls her tongue again, sucking a mark as her wide, strong palms pull your thighs up. She gets comfortable laying between your legs.

“Did I mention that I was sorry?” Abby asks, mouth exploring. Her teasing forces something warm and buttery to bloom in your chest. The feeling triples as her mouth dips, scattering wet, intricate kisses over your inner thighs. Her thick fingers jut into your skin, rubbing circles into your thighs, and pushing at your lower stomach. Your hips buck into her face. “Mm, yeah – think so,” you quickly rush, words high pitch and desperate. Abby glances up at you, her blue eyes are bright and brilliant. You have to reach down between your thighs and cup her cheek. 

Have to swipe your thumb at the spit she’s got smeared over her lips, and Abby’s tongue comes out, running over your skin before she sucks your finger into her mouth. Your face twists, lips parting. 

Whispering, “might have to show me how sorry you are, though.” “Yeah?” Abby immediately breathes, barely looking at you. Too busy swirling her tongue around your thumb. Your heart thumps a beating drum, clit throbs, and you clench, humming her name.

Say, “Abs,” and her eyes open -- pupils are blown wide. A conniving smirk on her pretty face, and she growls and bites – pretending to chomp on your finger. You pull your hand away, giggling, saying, “what the hell, Abby!” but she’s not listening. Too busy hitching your hips up. 

Too busy dribbling spit onto your pussy, and your giggle twists to a loud gasp as she drags the flat of her tongue from your hole to your clit. Your body shatters. Her name is a strangled sob, and you have to muffle it with the back of your palm.

“Fuck,” you whimper, not having enough energy to cuss her out. Not that you want to, anyway. Even if she deserves it. Even if you still want to be angry at her, but what good would that do? 

She’d literally crawled into bed with her metaphorical tail between her legs. The hot-headed Abby Anderson, who only ever wanted to be good. That is who you fell in love with.

She drags her tongue through your folds again. Relaxed, slow, and sensual. Again, and again Taking her time with you because she could. Because you’d let her – let her do anything, really. 

Let her swirl her tongue around your clit, saliva drooling over your heat, and dripping between your legs.

A warm, welcome heat spreads across your thighs, pushing at your belly and spine, forcing you to squirm – or at least try and squirm away from it, but Abby keeps you locked where she wants you. 

Sucks your clit into her mouth, and you moan, back trying to arch, but shit, she won’t let you.

“A-Abby,” you hiccup, arching as far as she’ll let. Your fingers search for something to grab onto — one finds the sheets, and the other finds her hair, where it pushes into her messy braid and tugs, both frustrated and turned on beyond relief.

You say her name again, a plead to stop, a plead to carry on, forever.

Abby chooses the latter, and it does feel like forever. Feels like a lifetime of her dragging her tongue through your folds. Her nose pushes into your heat, and the wet of you soaks her chin. 

She sinks a finger inside, and you moan her God damn name.

She doesn’t slow down — why would she? but most of all, how could she? When you’re stretched out on the bed she shares with you, naked, and whispering her name.

Again and again, Abby, Abby, Abby.

The beating of a drum — one that matches the buzzing, fluttering, and flapping of her heart. How can she stop, when you’re clenching around her middle finger, moaning deep and long — a drawn-out sound that echoes around the room. You soak her finger, too. Soak both when she adds another. Abby curses. 

“Maybe I should piss you off more often if this is my penance.” 

It’s hard to speak, but still, you manage. 

“Fuck—d-don’t get it twisted— “you tighten your grip on her hair, “--you’re still—still in the doghouse.” 

Abby pouts, eyeing you, “but I’m being such a good boy.”

“Jesus Christ.” 

You have to let go of the sheet to cover your face. Then, moan into your knuckle as you clench, her fingers stretching you out. 

Abby hums a laugh, “you like that, huh?”

Your rebuttal is quiet, a whisper of a sound as you utter —

“No one likes a show-off.” 

“But you do.” 

“Yeah— “you sigh, clenching again, the feeling building behind your clit. “I do.” 

Too much, sometimes. Feels like you’re so full of love for Abby Anderson that you’re fit to burst.

Her fingers speed up. Deep and long, but at the perfect tempo to have your legs shaking. Have you biting at the back of your hand, too, to stop you from screaming and waking up the entire floor. 

She has her calloused hands holding your legs against the bed, and it’s all take and take and take. The obscene pressure makes you drift off, and you’re lightheaded and docile when she asks,

“I make you feel safe, right?”

“W-what?” 

The question knocks you for a loop. You look down at her, eyes blown, forehead furrowed, and a smile drags onto her stubborn face. She rests her forehead on your lower stomach and speaks into your skin as she stretches you open with her fingers. You gasp, eyes rolling back.

“S’ what you said, earlier — that I make you feel safe.” 

You don’t remember saying that. Did you say that? You must have. You try and think back to the argument. Think back to her getting insecure and angry about Mel saying that Abby hovers around you all the time.

I like having you around Abby, you make me feel safe.

When you don’t respond, she picks up the speed. Drags her fingers through your cunt -- makes you squirm and drench her fingers, a shocked gasp choking at your throat. The sound grabs her attention, and she snaps up, the heat of her stare a living, breathing thing. 

“Right?” she repeats.

“Yes,” you gasp, hot all over, then, “Fuck — yes.” 

“You like having me around, yes?”

“Yes Abby, yes yesyes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah — fuck, even if you, drive me fucking crazy— “

She sucks your clit into her mouth again, and you break.

“—oh holy shit, yes, please, Abby please keep doing that please keep doing that, please, please, please, please, please.” 

You’re wired. The drag of her fingers. The warm, tight, suck of her mouth. Delirious. You moan her name as if it’s the only word you know. Right now, it is. The brain fog is seeping in, and you can’t remember why you were mad. What did she do again? You clench down on her fingers, so tight that it hurts.

“Abs — um’gonna come. Fuck, please, please let me come I want it want it so bad.” 

Abby doesn’t speak, just grunts, and nods her head against your cunt. Nods, and nods, and loosens her grip on your legs, letting you – finally – rest your thighs against her shoulders as the harsh, hot feeling spills over you. Your eyes roll back, fingers coil in her hair, and everything is clenched and tense and tight, until you release, wet and hot and intense.

“Oh my fucking God—Abby, Abby, Ohm’god, so fuck—” the words dribble out of your mouth like spit. Mindless, dredged up from somewhere dark and damp, saved for this moment only. Abby bathes in them, never stopping her fingers, never stopping her tongue as she soaks you up, your body shaking from under her grip. 

At some point, she watches, and God – it’s a sight to behold. When the feeling fizzles out, and you’re gasping in air, your flustered face staring down at her, she stretches up. Kisses you and spreads your musk over your lips as she tongues her way into your mouth, her wet fingers grabbing a hold of your cheek to keep you steady. She says some words of her own, but you barely hear them, still drunk and dizzy from how far she took you.

With shaky, weak hands, you reach down for the buckle of her jeans. “’ S’my turn,” you mumble against her mouth, and she laughs quietly. “My turn, you mean.” “Mm,” you hum, kissing the taste of you off of her lips. Still fuzzy, you go dizzy when you shake your head at her. “You okay sweetheart?” she laughs, and you roll your eyes. “’ jus’ gimmie a minute, then it’ll be my turn.”

Abby always tries to keep quiet at first. You thought it was a pride thing, then briefly, a shame thing, but then you realised, it was just an Abby Thing. Another Abby Thing -- is that she likes to watch.

Props herself onto her elbows – with one hand in your hair – and gazes down at you between her thighs. It’s what she’s doing now. Her fingers are lax in your strands, and eyes are lazy as she regards you with curiosity.

Tongue in the corner of her mouth, a furrow in her brows, as you kiss at the inside of her muscular thighs. You move with no real direction, and Abby gets lost in the bobbing of your head, the slow build before you’re dragging your tongue over the thin skin between her thigh and pussy, and she opens her mouth to make a sound. Still. She’s silent.

Achingly so.

You brush your mouth against her. Just an inch. Just a touch, and look up, catching her blue gaze. A small, teasing smile quirks at her lips, and she raises a brow, silently saying, well, go on then.

One thing that surprised you about Abby, was how nice she was.

Reserved, yes – but nice. Nice, until she got mean. Despicable. You love all sides of her, but it’s moments like this, where you particularly love the mean part of her.

The part that tightens her grip on your hair – tight and unforgiving – as you drool so much spit onto her pussy that it drips over your chin and soaks the mattress. The part that tuts when you start too fast, causing her to say, slow – slow down pretty, go slow for me. The part that lifts your head when you don’t slow down, spitting, what the fuck did I just say?

But this moment? this moment isn’t like that at all. There’s no mean Abby. There’s only the thankful Abby. The one who whispers praises at you, eyes locked on the way you swipe your spit over her cunt, pushing it into her, and tasting how wet she got from making you come. 

She says that’s it, so faintly, that you barely hear her. But no matter, she’s saying it again. Saying, that’s it, baby, as you build up the momentum, just barely touching her clit – like she taught you. You always were a good listener. It’s how you hear the hushed sound she sighs. How you hear her low grunt, followed by her high-pitched intake of breath as you nudge your nose against the swollen bundle of nerves.

She’s soaking.

Completely drenched and knowing that she got like this from eating you out fuels your desire. Forces you to abandon your slow movements, and instead, begin to consume her. Tongue flat, fingers tight on her hips, you work her over, drooling and moaning, and swirling your tongue over her clit until she has to make a sound.

“Shit,” she grunts, and you glance up at her. She’s chewing on her bottom lip. Jaw clenched, eyes blown and cheeks red – trying to keep herself contained. You have to smile. Have to grin at her as you roll your tongue over her clit, watching her desperately try and cling to any sense of sanity. It’s no use though, because when you suck her clit into your mouth – sloppy with spit -- she has to look away.

She can’t hold herself up anymore, either, and she falls back to the pillows, back immediately arching, and she has to drag her bicep over her face, hiding her face from view as she moans a deep and guttural, “Fucccckkkkk,” into the bedroom.

Her fingers clutch your hair, and she uses her grip as leverage and grinds her cunt against your mouth and chin. You let go of her clit and flatten your tongue, letting her use you.

“Yes—” she gasps, mouth opening, and you would be seeing her face twist, if not for her thick bicep covering her face. The veins in her arm are ticking, and you notice that her ab muscles are clenching, too, so you reach up slowly, sliding your palm over her sweaty chest, and running your thumb over her tense skin, hoping to soothe the tension.

“Abs,” you whisper, slowing your pace. “Mmh?” she hums, and you slide your fingers further, dragging them over her tits. “Relax,” you hush, and she laughs, the sound bursting from her throat before it breaks into a breathy moan as you switch up -- twist your tongue around her clit, rotating between swirling and sucking, swirling, and sucking until she lets go of your hair completely.

Has to fidget -- can’t lay still. She’s arching her back, clutching the duvet, then grabbing your hair again, sobbing your name, over and over, as you suck and swirl at her swollen clit. Watching her lose control is intoxicating. It’s forcing an ache to build between your thighs, but not as strong as Abby’s, who’s moaning and cursing.

“Keep doing that – keep doing that baby, ‘s’ fucking good. Please, please don’t fucking stop, shit.”

God, it’s so hot – stopping has never crossed your mind.

“’um ‘gonna come,” she whispers, so quiet that you have to strain to hear it. But then, she’s shaking her head, changing her mind. “Don’t wanna – don’t wanna come, 'cause I don’t want it to stop.” “You can come—” you grant, sucking her wetness into your mouth and spitting it back into her cunt. Abby whimpers, not daring to look. Though, she does when you declare, “—um’ not gonna stop.”

Cranes her neck up, then immediately regrets it. You’ve got one hand on her hip, and the other is between your thighs, where you’re steadily grinding against it. She’s speechless for a second, just, watching you grind your cunt into your knuckles, and then she’s asking, “Are you touching yourself?”

Heat floods your body for a fleeting beat, but then you’re moaning into her pussy, nodding, saying, “you’re so fucking hot, Abs. Mm’ sorry.”

Mean Abby would have chastised you, but this is the thankful Abby, this is the Abby who shakes her head, laughs, and says, “Shit, and you wonder why I don’t leave you alone.” “Don’t,” you immediately respond. You can sense her confusion, so you decide to be honest. “Don’t leave me alone. I like – like having you around, like people seeing us together,” you admit. Like it when she’s in earshot. When she buys you drinks and helps you out. When she refuses to let you go on runs without her, not because you can’t do it, but because why should you? When she can do it with you.

Like it when she hands you the big gun, kisses your forehead and says, be safe. When she picks you over all the grown, muscular men in the team, not out of loyalty, but because she trusts you, more than anyone she’s ever met before. 

You’re fueled with passion – a desire for her, and it forces you to drag your fingers from her hip and under your chin, palm up, before pushing your middle finger into her cunt.

Abby groans, loud — the bellow of it echoing against the walls, and she moans as she gushes over your lips. You taste her; suck her into your mouth before you say, I like belonging to you, Abby, and Abby fucking sobs. 

Whimpers like a wounded animal, whimpers like it hurts, says, say that again, please say that again. And so, you do. Moan it into the wet heat of her, your lips swollen, and your chin soaked. Try to imprint the words onto her skin, so she’ll never doubt herself again.

“It’s gonna be big –” she sobs, hiccuping the words, “--can feel it in my fucking chest.”

She drags her arms up, hands clutched together above her head so her elbows rest on her forehead, and you watch her mouth twist, jaw clench, then she’s cursing, gasping, saying, “shit – um’ gonna--” and she does.

Comes all over your mouth and chin, wet and hot, and loud. You lap her up, tasting the salt and spit and hearing her sob your name with a complete lack of self-awareness. It rings in your ears, makes you laugh – prideful – and Abby gasps one, too, but the sound morphs into a whine as you drag out the sensitivity, overstimulating her with your mouth and fingers.

When it gets too much for her, she grunts a curse, her hand coming down to grab your head and she uses a fist full of your hair to pull you away. You look up at her, cheeks glistening, and grin.

[esmedelacroix]

"I hate it when you're not around,"

husband!miguel x f!reader ♡

10 Things I Hate About You ← mini-series masterlist

"Even worse when you make me cry" ← previous part

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What Miguel didn't know was that you had already forgiven him. One of the hardest tasks in the world for you was to stay mad at him. You had forgiven him the moment he kissed your shoulder and said the simple words, "I'm sorry," Why? Because you love him. Maybe a little too much.

Most people would think that the words, "I'm sorry" have lost all meaning in your relationship. That the phrase is used by Miguel so much that it is just something he says to avoid disputes. That's not true though. You know that there is gravity behind every "I'm sorry," Miguel says.

That didn't stop the fact that Miguel hurt you. You just wanted him to feel the same pain you did. So you stopped visiting him at work and you stopped waiting for him to come home and just went straight to bed. It killed you not to be able to see him during the day, but you were upset. He made you cry, he deserved it.

. . .

Miguel's POV

Something has been missing from my days. I know exactly what it is but I've been trying to take my mind off of it. But how could I not think about her? My sweet angel that usually visits me is nowhere to be found today, just like yesterday and the day before. It's like eating a pb &j without the j or the pb or anything. It's like my days lose some of their meaning when she's not here with me.

An unfamiliar and chilling gloom cast on my office. Similar to the one that was there before I met the love of my life. It was too often an occurrence where things would be insane at work and it affected my home life with her.

She's never been this upset with me. But I guess once one thing happens over and over you begin to get tired. Is she perhaps getting tired of me? Just when I'd reached the peak of my overthinking spree, Peter B. barged into my office with Hobie, Gwen, and Mayday.

"Alright Miguel we've had enough," Peter started stomping up to me.

"Enough of what," I deadpanned.

"Enough of your sulking and enough of your wife not being here, we're friends with her. We all miss her," Gwen continued.

"You do know why she's so upset with you, right?" Hobie asked.

I finally turned away from my screens and faced the group interrogating me. "Because... I've been working too much?" he answered.

"No, she's used to that. It's because of Justine," Hobie interjected.

"Justine?" he repeated, confused.

"Yes Justine, the girl you keep running to instead of spending time with your wife," Gwen said.

"The girl you keep choosing over your wife," Peter B added.

"The girl you're cheating on your wife with," Hobie interjected.

"Woah woah hold your horses. I'm not cheating on my wife with Justine!? That's absurd! I can barely stand her!" he retired. He didn't raise his voice but his tone was definitely unusually unstable.

"But do you see how she could think that you're choosing Justine over her?" Peter asked.

"I mean I guess so but I was just following protocol," he replied.

"You could've waited until after lunch," Gwen responded.

"She needed a friend the night she went to her universe. I see myself in her. I was only trying to help. I couldn't imagine being with another woman that's not my love," he insisted.

"Well, you have to say that all to her, not us. It sounds like you guys have a bit of a communication problem," Hobie replied.

"Dios mío[my God], I can't believe I'm getting advice from a kid," he whispered to himself.

"Well you better take that advice," Peter answered.

"But she doesn't want to see me," he sighed, sinking down into his seat.

"Do you really believe that?" Peter B asked raising a brow and placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

With that encouragement, Miguel dropped all his work and swung to your home hoping you wouldn't already be asleep. Like the whole universe was against him, little problems kept coming up on the way. An old lady's cat stuck in a tree, bodega robbery, bank robbery, you name it.

None of that would stop him from coming home to you on time.

. . .

next part → "And the fact that you didn't call,"

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taglist: @lilscast @lazyjellyfish300 @safixiovi @saaaaaaaaaaaamiiiiiiiiiiira @aktenati @vera4luv @skylertully @boringpersonality @ce3stvu @straw-berry-ghoul @holachaoholachoa

[amakumos]

enhypen as f1 fans - headcanons.

SYNOPSIS. enhypen as f1 fans this is literally just it

GENRE. probably just crack

AUTHOR'S NOTE. this is literally just for fun and i love lando norris. lmk what else you would want to add if u like f1 and enha... let me know what types of fans theyd be... not tagging taglist in this cuz its not that serious of a fic

LEE HEESEUNG. ★

favourite team: aston martin

favourite track: spa-francorchamps

favourite driver: fernando alonso / lewis hamilton

heeseung also gives me the vibe that he likes red bull as well! i think he definitely wouldn't be mad if a rb driver won, but would prefer drivers from his favourite team

he's definitely gone to races before. occasionally buys paddock passes.

had the time of his life in the first half of the 2023 season when aston was good... after the upgrades (more like downgrades) he's been going through it...

but i think he'd still have hope.

the kind of guy to quit watching the race if his favourite driver dnfs

buys merch like a crazy person

loves fernando’s tiktok account with a burning passion. probably uses them as reaction memes in the gc

will lose his shit when fernando or lewis retires.

has a soft spot for oscar

bashes his head against the wall when his fav driver has a slow pitstop

the kind of guy to yell at the tv when the result outcome is terrible

"i'm never watching formula 1 again" he says when his fav doesn't make it to the points... and then proceeds to turn the tv back on the next race week

probably has a selfie with his fav driver (and probably cried a little bit after)

uses that video of fernando's celebration dance as a way to get out of awkward conversations

the first guy to like fernando's new tiktoks whenever they r posted

JAY PARK. ★

favourite team: mercedes

favourite track: circuit of the americas

favourite driver: lewis hamilton / sebastian vettel

honestly i feel like everyone in enha loves lewis

lost his shit when seb retired

i think he also likes nico rosberg as well. seems like a brocedes guy (he sheds tears every time someone brings brocedes up tho)

would sacrifice his right lung for another lewis hamilton win

would gladly help seb build his bee hotels in suzuka

paddock passes every time when he goes and watches f1.

probably has selfies with every driver that he likes

hes just a mercedes guy through and through

he's loyal to his team! if ur a mercedes driver, jay loves u AUTOMATICALLY.

probably died a bit on the inside when george and lewis had contact on turn 1 in qatar 2023

not a red bull fan. im sorry

but he sometimes thinks about turning into a red bull fan because life as a red bull fan is much less depressing compared to being a merc fan

misses the merc domination era

probably on f1twt and is famous there

people know him for having selfies w the drivers and always buying paddock passes. he's a rich guy what can i say

another guy who yells at the screen during a race

whenever merc has disappointing strategies he just sighs and thinks: "i could do a better job"

JAKE SIM. ★

favourite team: ferrari

favourite track: monza / monaco

favourite driver: charles leclerc

SOMEBODY SAVE THIS MAN????

he goes through it every single weekend. every weekend he is constantly disappointed by ferrari and at this point he is considering to quit watching f1

only cares about charles. loves that man with his life

he also likes oscar and danny ric as well, because they're australian

you know how every italian man is in love with charles? they post stuff on their story like "met my husband😍" and it's a pic of them and charles? that's jake. he is him

jake reminds me of that one fan who made charles a pizza and gave it to him in person. like that’s lowkey some shit that he would do

picks up on phrases that charles says. mainly "it's like this" ...

prays every single weekend for charles to get good results (he is always disappointed)

wanted to die when he saw charles' slow pit stop at the dutch gp in 2023... they had NO TYRES and jake threw the remote control at the screen

has charles merch. definitely bought the monaco special edition hat. probably buys apm monaco for charles too

he's definitely gone to races before. probably bought paddock once but he will never do that again his wallet was crying

was 100% in the crowd during charles' 2019 monza win. also shed tears during that moment

"BURN THE SF23" is the most tweeted thing on his f1twt account of the 2023 season

argues with sunghoon all the time over f1 because sunghoon is a red bull fan... but secretly they're literally lecstappen

in general jake would sacrifice his entire life for charles leclerc and... he's so real for that

PARK SUNGHOON. ★

favourite team: red bull

favourite track: zandvoort / red bull ring

favourite driver: max verstappen

the only one enjoying the 2023 season

because his favourite driver always wins

the only one in enha whos NEVER disappointed whenever a race happens

yells rlly loud whenever max wins (so basically every race weekend) and the rest of the enha boys just look at him like 😒

probably has like 5 red bull shirts in his closet and sleeps in them

defends max with his life. probably has a twitter account w the user onlyverstappen and you'll see him bashing the shit out of max haters

prob bought a max mini helmet. almost bought the max verstappen christmas sweater (hes a dedicated fan what can i say)

big maxiel fan. would sacrifice everything for a max and daniel pairing again because he thinks they're funny together

likes max bc of his humour as well

watches youtube videos about f1 like "every f1 driver getting mad at nikita mazepin" or like "funny f1 driver radio moments"

the kind of guy to save every max edit into his camera roll (hes in love what can i say)

started drinking red bulls because of his love for the team… he says it’s his way of supporting them

fan of liam lawson too. needs him to get a seat and he does not care with what team. he just needs to see that man in a f1 car ASAP...

has been to f1 races, bought paddock once to go with jay. max won that race and he never shuts up about how he saw max verstappen win with his own two eyes

has the same passion towards f1 as jake except he lives in a constant state of happiness due to red bull's dominance while jake lives in a constant state of depression

KIM SUNOO. ★

favourite team: alphatauri / williams

favourite track: singapore

favourite driver: yuki tsunoda / alex albon

big yuki fan. thinks his radios are funny

he's not too invested in f1 but watches occasionally

loves alex bc of how he's somehow able to drag a williams into the points

he's pretty quiet when he's watching f1 i feel

feels like the kind of guy to just sit on the couch and be like "hmm. good job" or like "oh. maybe next time..."

mainly bc his fav drivers and teams arent fighting for podiums or championships... but he hopes that they'll be able to someday

he's that one rlly lucky fan that could just be walking around in the same city as his fav f1 driver and just bump into them on the street

doesn't hate any team and doesn't hate any driver. he's a pretty chill f1 fan

the ONE time sunoo probably got pissed was when yuki was on his formation lap and his engine broke down... meaning he didn't start

wanted to punch smth because How in the World

probably bought one of yuki's mini helmets bc he thinks its cute. "good room decor" - kim sunoo 2023

probably has a yuki or alex cap but that's as much merch as he'll buy tbh

likes the yuki / daniel combo for alphatauri but also thinks nyck should've been given a bit more time

probably hasn't been to an f1 race in person... if he went i don't think he'd buy paddock unless one of the other members bought it and brought him along

keeps up w f1 news from twitter or from jake bc he never stops talking about how ferrari’s fucking up charles' strategy again

YANG JUNGWON. ★

favourite team: mclaren

favourite track: silverstone

favourite driver: lando norris / oscar piastri

no, i’m not just saying jungwon is a lando enjoyer just because i am (maybe a little bc i’m biased BUT)

they’re both just adorable so what can i say really

depressed at the beginning of the season when the mclaren boys were driving a fucking TRACTOR for a car

landoscar enthusiast. i don’t make the rules… he and jake remind me of landoscar kinda… like jake would be a lando and jungwon would be an oscar

would do anything (I MEAN ANYTHING) for a lando win… me too

mclaren 1-2? YOU BEST BELIEVE HE'S YELLING LIKE A MANIAC

spends money on lando merch (HOODIES!) and prob wears it bc the designs r insanely cool

sits in silence in the corner when it’s a bad race week for his faves… like he’s crazily silent to the point where it’s scary. it's giving eye twitches vibes

gets hyped for race week tho he’s the kinda guy to have every race logged in his calendar

makes maeumi watch f1 with him. unfortunately maeumi is not a mclaren fan much to his disappointment

if you hate lando or oscar he will hate you. defends them with his life and trust and believe me he will win.

is on f1twt, pretty well known on there (he just tweets random shit and gets 1k likes and hes like... Wtf)

attends races whenever he can, prob not paddock cuz he thinks it’s not really worth it bc of how expensive they are

used to mclaren being good now compared to the start of the season so he’s devastated when they’re not top 5

NISHIMURA RIKI. ★

favourite team: mercedes (ferrari later tho...)

favourite track: suzuka

favourite driver: lewis hamilton / yuki tsunoda / kimi raikkonen

lewis fan because he’s the goat, yuki fan bc he thinks he’s funny and bc they’re both japanese, kimi fan because well... hes KIMI

riki’s prob been invested in f1 since he was a kid, definitely the most involved / passionate w motorsports

probably watches other motorsport series too! pretty sure he’s talked about formula e, and i could see him enjoying indycar and motogp

yk how lewis released that collab w fortnite? riki prob bought the skin and plays as lewis in fortnite😭

loves roscoe!!! would want bisco and roscoe to meet tbh

wants lewis to win again SOOOO badly

prob has a picture with yuki and the height difference would be hilarious (yuki is 159cm)

i think he's a big fan of schumacher, senna, prost too, definitely been watching this sport for a WHILE!

in a complete state of SHOCK when it was revealed lewis would be going to ferrari

started learning italian on duolingo after the big announcement

has definitely been to a few f1 races (suzuka, silverstone & singapore are probably the ones he's been to)

a BIG ACCOUNT ON F1TWT

probably gets invited as a guest of his favourite teams n shit it's crazy he's practically an influencer there

would start an f1 podcast for fun and it would go viral

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

𝕿𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝕿𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 | 6

read chapter 1 - here [MASTERLIST]

screencaps and gifs: Pinterest and @pedgito

Pairing: dark!Joel Miller x Fem!reader

Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT,DUB/NON-CON, Auctioning people, Dom and Sub dynamics, Drinking, food, kissing, possessiveness, flirting, praise, Orgasums, manipulation, burns, Bondage (with a belt), strip tease, thigh riding, riding, punishments, hair pulling, Orgasum denial, Degrading, breeding kink?maybe a lil, UNprotected sex wrap it before you tap it kids, THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

Summary: Faith drops a ball and you try and take some control over Joel

WC: 5.6k

A/n: Hehe...switch Joel? also this took a sec because i originally wrote it completely different but big big shout out too @underthechemtrails who read one of the first editions she was an amazing help when it came to well everything luv ya pookie

For notifications follow - @sinful-mind-joyful-fics

“Faith,” you giggled as she told you about the prank she pulled on Tommy, the warmth of her laughter making your heart feel lighter. You had Faith on speakerphone, the sounds of sizzling food and clinking utensils filling your small kitchen as you prepared dinner, waiting for Joel to come home.

“He was so mad, but it was worth it,” Faith chuckled. “What about you? How have you been holding up?”

You sighed, a mixture of exhaustion and relief in your voice. “I’ve been okay. Classes are going well, and I’m almost finished with my most recent painting. It’s been a good distraction.”

“That’s great to hear,” Faith replied, her tone softening with genuine care. “And Joel? How are things with him?”

You hesitated, your fingers pausing over the chopping board. “It’s been... complicated. We had this intense encounter a few days ago, and it’s been hard to shake off. It felt more like a punishment than anything else.”

You hesitated, your fingers pausing over the chopping board as you chopped vegetables for the spaghetti sauce. “It’s been... complicated. We had this intense encounter a few days ago, and it’s been hard to shake off. It felt more like a punishment than anything else.”

Faith laughed softly, thinking it was a joke. “A punishment? Sounds kinky. What did he do?”

You took a deep breath, feeling a knot in your stomach. “I said no to something, and he didn’t listen. He forced himself on me and made me... well, it was a blowjob. It felt like he was punishing me for saying no.”

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line. When Faith spoke again, her voice was much more serious. “Wait, what? He forced you? That’s not okay. That’s not a punishment, that’s... that’s assault.”

You swallowed hard, the reality of her words hitting you. “I didn’t think of it that way. I just felt... helpless.”

Faith’s tone softened, filled with concern. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was like that. I thought it was a consensual thing. Are you okay?”

You stopped cooking, setting the knife down as you tried to keep your composure. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to make sense of it. I didn’t want to believe it was that bad.”

Faith’s voice was gentle but firm. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this alone. You deserve to feel safe.”

Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself. “Faith, can I ask you something?”

"Of course," Faith replied, her tone encouraging. "What’s on your mind?"

"Do you and Tommy have a safe word?" you asked, the words feeling foreign on your tongue.

Faith paused for a moment before answering. "Yes, we do. Safe words are essential in any kind of BDSM or kink relationship. Do you and Joel have one?"

"No," you admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I read about them in an article when I was trying to figure out something new to try with Joel. The article mentioned safe words when it talked about bondage, but I didn’t really understand what it meant."

Faith’s laughter was warm and reassuring. "That’s okay. A safe word is a word or phrase that you and your partner agree on, which means ‘stop’ immediately. It’s used to communicate when something is too much or if you’re uncomfortable. It’s different from just saying ‘no’ because sometimes in roleplay, saying ‘no’ can be part of the game. The safe word is a clear signal that the scene needs to stop right away."

"Oh," you said, feeling a bit more enlightened. "So it’s like a safety net?"

"Exactly," Faith confirmed. "It’s there to ensure that both partners feel safe and respected. It’s crucial in maintaining trust. If you’re ever feeling overwhelmed, you use the safe word, and everything stops."

You nodded, even though Faith couldn’t see you, feeling a bit more at ease. "That makes sense. I guess I need to talk to Joel about that."

Faith’s voice took on a more serious tone. "Absolutely. And make sure you’re clear about what you’re comfortable with and what you want to explore. Speaking of which, is there something specific you want to try?"

You hesitated, feeling a bit nervous. "Well, actually, yes. I read about bondage, and I kind of want to try it, but I’d like to be the one in control. I want Joel to be the one tied up."

There was a brief pause before Faith responded, her voice laced with excitement. "Ooh, that sounds interesting! But I get why you’re nervous. You want to make sure he’s open to it and understands your boundaries."

"Exactly," you said, feeling a bit more relieved. "How do I bring it up without making it awkward or seeming like I’m trying to change things too much?"

Faith chuckled softly. "Well, first of all, it’s all about timing. Find a moment when you’re both relaxed and open to talking. Maybe after dinner, when you’re both in a good mood. Start by talking about your relationship and how much you value it, then ease into the topic of trying new things."

You nodded, making a mental note of her advice. "Okay, that sounds doable. And then what?"

"Be honest and direct," Faith advised. "Tell him you’ve been reading about different aspects of intimacy and that you’re curious about trying bondage. Explain that you’d like to experiment with being the one in control and see how he feels about it. Make sure he knows it’s about exploring together and that you value his comfort and boundaries too."

"That makes sense," you said, feeling a bit more confident. "I just hope he’s open to it."

Faith's voice took on a nostalgic tone. "You know, the one time I was with Joel, I actually tied him up. He was surprisingly okay with it. He was more of a guide, really, helping me feel comfortable while still letting me take control. It was... nice, in a way."

You blinked in surprise, the spoon in your hand pausing mid-stir. "He was tied up? And he was okay with that?"

"Yeah," Faith confirmed, her voice growing more somber. "He was open to it. But there’s something I need to tell you." She took a deep breath, her tone shifting from nostalgic to serious. "That night, Joel punished me too. It was consensual at first, but it got a bit intense. He didn’t listen to my safe word."

You felt a chill run down your spine, the spoon slipping from your fingers into the pot. "Faith, why didn’t you tell me about this before?"

Faith sighed heavily, the sound filled with regret. "Honestly? I didn’t want to worry you. You seemed so happy with him, and I hoped that maybe he was different with you. But hearing you talk about how he’s been... it brings back some memories."

You turned off the stove, giving Faith your full attention. "You should have told me. I need to know these things."

"I know," Faith admitted, her voice tinged with a sadness that was rarely there. "I should have. But I just... didn’t want to cloud your view of him if he was treating you well. Now that I know he’s been rough with you too, I’m worried."

You felt a surge of conflicting emotions. "It’s okay, Faith. I understand why you didn’t. But it’s important for me to know."

Faith took a deep breath, her voice steadying. "You’re right. And I’m sorry. It’s just... hard to talk about. But you need to know that if he hasn’t changed and he’s being... rapey, you need to call me. I’ll drop everything to come get you."

You felt a knot of fear and gratitude in your chest. "Okay. I promise I will."

"Good," Faith said, her voice softening slightly. "Now, about this bondage thing... Start with the safe word. And be honest about wanting to try bondage but wanting him to be the one tied up. He might surprise you, but if he pushes back in a way that makes you uncomfortable, don’t ignore it."

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of determination and fear. "Okay. I’ll talk to him. And if things go south, I’ll call you."

"Promise me you will," Faith urged. "No matter what."

"I promise," you said, feeling a sense of relief knowing she was there for you.

"Good," Faith said warmly. "And remember, you deserve to feel safe and respected. Don’t let anyone take that away from you."

"Thanks, Faith," you said, your voice trembling slightly. "I appreciate you being here for me."

"Always," Faith replied with a comforting tone. "Now go finish dinner and have that talk. You’ve got this."

You hung up the phone, Faith's words echoing in your mind. Her confession had left you feeling a mixture of relief and unease. As you turned back to the stove, you tried to focus on finishing dinner, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the conversation.

Suddenly, the front door creaked open. You jumped, the unexpected noise startling you. Joel was home early. His heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway, and you could smell the earthy scent of sweat and construction dust before you saw him.

"Hey," Joel called out as he stepped into the kitchen. His voice was gruff but filled with a hint of warmth.

Startled, you accidentally knocked the spoon against the pot, causing hot sauce to splash onto your hand. You yelped in pain, instinctively pulling your hand away and clutching it to your chest.

Joel's eyes widened in concern as he quickly closed the distance between you. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"It’s nothing," you managed through gritted teeth, trying to downplay the pain. "I just burned myself."

Without another word, Joel gently took your hand, examining the burn with a furrowed brow. He was still dirty from work, the scent of dirt and sweat mingling with the kitchen aromas. Despite his rough appearance, his touch was tender as he guided you to the sink.

"Let’s get this under some cold water," he said softly, turning on the tap and holding your hand under the stream. The cool water provided instant relief, but your heart was still racing from the shock of his sudden arrival and the sting of the burn.

"Thanks," you murmured, glancing up at him. His face was etched with concern, and for a moment, you saw a different side of him—a side that cared deeply about your well-being.

Joel nodded, his expression softening. "You need to be more careful." His voice was gentle, a stark contrast to the usual roughness you were accustomed to.

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I know. I just got distracted."

Joel glanced at the stove, then back at you. "I can finish dinner if you want to take a break."

"No, it’s okay," you replied, pulling your hand back once the pain had subsided. "I’ll finish it."

He hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. Just be careful."

You returned to the stove, but Joel didn’t leave your side. His presence was both comforting and intimidating, and you found yourself struggling to focus. You stirred the pot absentmindedly, your mind still reeling from your conversation with Faith and the sudden shift in your evening.

"Joel," you began hesitantly, feeling the weight of the upcoming conversation. "There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about."

He looked at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What is it?"

You took a deep breath, summoning the courage you needed. "I’ve been reading about BDSM dynamics, and I realized we don’t have a safe word. I think it’s something we need to establish to ensure we both feel safe and respected."

Joel’s expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and defensiveness. “A safe word? Why do we need that? I’ve never done anything to make you uncomfortable. Everything I do is to make you feel good.”

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach. “But sometimes it feels too intense, like the other night. I want to make sure we have a way to stop if it’s too much.”

He crossed his arms, his posture becoming more rigid. “Why are you even researching this stuff? You can come to me with any concerns. You don’t need to look things up online.”

“I just wanted to understand better,” you explained, trying to keep your voice steady. “I thought it would help us communicate more clearly.”

Joel’s eyes darkened, his tone accusatory. “Is this Faith’s idea? She’s the one with the problem, not us. I don’t need her planting doubts in your head.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the intensity of his gaze. “It’s not just about Faith. It’s about making sure we both feel safe and respected.”

Joel shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Of course, it’s Faith. She’s never liked me. Remember how she repacked your suitcase, telling you what to bring and what not to? She’s always trying to control you. Why do you listen to her?”

You felt a pang of frustration and sadness. “Joel, Faith is just concerned about me. She wants me to be safe and happy.”

“She wants you to doubt me,” he snapped, his voice rising. “She’s always been trying to drive a wedge between us. Can’t you see that? She’s manipulating you.”

You turned back to the stove, trying to focus on the spaghetti rather than his words. “Joel, this isn’t about Faith. This is about us and making sure our relationship is healthy.”

“She doesn’t respect me,” he continued, ignoring your attempt to steer the conversation. “She’s always undermining me, filling your head with nonsense. Why can’t you see that she’s the problem?”

You took a deep breath, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Joel, I’m not going to cut Faith out of my life. She’s my friend, and she cares about me. But this conversation is about us establishing boundaries and making sure we both feel safe.”

Joel’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. “Boundaries? We never needed boundaries before she started meddling.”

You sighed, trying to keep your composure as you placed the plates of spaghetti on the table. “This isn’t about Faith meddling. It’s about us communicating better. Can we please just sit down and talk about this calmly?”

Joel pushed his chair back, standing up abruptly. “No,” he said flatly. “Put my dinner in the microwave. I need to get cleaned up.”

You blinked in surprise, feeling a rush of anxiety. “Joel, we need to talk about this.”

He ignored you, heading for the kitchen door. “You know, I paid for your college tuition with that $300,000. It was your money, and I assumed you’d use it for that anyway. And I had my accountant merge our bank accounts. It makes things easier for both of us.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, a wave of fear and confusion washing over you. “What? Joel, you can’t just merge our accounts without talking to me first!”

He turned back, his expression cold. “Why are you getting so defensive? I’m just trying to take care of you.”

The words hit hard, knocking the wind out of you. You struggled to steady your voice, but it wavered. "Joel, that's a major decision. You should have discussed it with me. I feel like you're making all the decisions without considering me."

He scoffed and shook his head dismissively before walking away from the kitchen doorway. You felt your head spinning as panic surged through you. How could he make such decisions without even consulting you? It wasn't just about merging bank accounts; it was about him asserting his will without considering your feelings. 

Just as you were setting the last plate on the table, Joel returned to the kitchen, his hair still damp from the shower, which made him look unusually handsome with droplets of water catching the light. "Is my dinner ready?" His tone was demanding, carrying an air of authority that unsettled you further.

You nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. “Yes, I put it in the microwave for you.”

Joel walked over to the microwave, opening it and taking out his plate. The scent of the spaghetti filled the room as he set his plate down. He gave you a brief, appreciative look. “Dinner smells great, sweetheart,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “You always know how to make the perfect sauce.”

You managed a small smile, though it felt forced. “Thanks, Joel. I’m glad you like it.”

He took a few bites, nodding appreciatively. "Where did you hear about this ‘safe word’ stuff anyway?"

You swallowed hard, choosing your words carefully. "I’ve been doing some research on BDSM. I was specifically looking into bondage and came across the concept of safe words. It seems important, especially for trust and communication."

Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his tone neutral. "Researching, huh? And what made you want to look into that?"

You glanced down at your plate, feeling a mix of anxiety and determination. "I wanted to explore more. I felt ready to try new things, and I thought it would be good for us to have clear boundaries. It’s about making sure we both feel comfortable and respected."

Joel leaned back in his chair, studying you intently. "And you think we need this because of what happened the other night?"

You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat. "Yes. I want to feel safe, and I want you to feel safe too. It’s about mutual respect and trust."

He sighed, setting his fork down and leaning forward slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. "I’ve never done anything to make you uncomfortable on purpose. Everything I’ve done was to make you feel good."

You bit your lip, trying to find the right words. "I know, Joel. But sometimes, things can go too far without meaning to. A safe word would give us both a way to stop if it ever gets to be too much."

Joel's expression softened as he reached across the table, his fingers brushing yours. "I get what you’re saying, but you should have come to me with this first. We don’t need outside influences like Faith planting doubts."

You took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of relief and lingering anxiety. "This isn’t about Faith. This is about us. I need to know that if I say no or if something is too much for me, you’ll respect that."

Joel’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his touch firm but not unkind. "You’ll want for nothing, you know that, right? I’m just trying to take care of us, make things easier."

You looked down at his hand, then back up at him, feeling a knot of unease in your stomach. "I appreciate everything you do, Joel. But we need to make decisions together. I need to feel like we’re equals."

Suddenly, Joel’s mood shifted, his voice laced with a darker edge. “You know, you’re just like Faith. Think you’re ready for all this sex stuff, then go crying when you can’t take it.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, tears welling up in your eyes. “Joel, that’s not fair.”

He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Isn’t it? You want to explore, but then you can’t handle it when things get real. Maybe you should think about that before trying to bring in all these new rules.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. “It’s not about handling it, Joel. It’s about feeling safe and respected. I thought you understood that.”

Joel’s eyes softened, and he leaned forward, reaching out to touch your cheek. “Sweetheart, you know I care about you more than anything. I’m just trying to make things perfect for us. You don’t have to worry about anything, just trust me.”

His touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself leaning into his hand despite the turmoil in your mind. “I do trust you, Joel, but I need to feel like my voice matters too.”

He smiled, a seductive, almost hypnotic smile. “Of course your voice matters. It’s just that sometimes, I know what’s best for us. You don’t need to be burdened with all the details. You should be focusing on your art, your classes, the things that make you happy.”

“But merging our accounts without asking?” you pressed, trying to hold onto your resolve. “That’s a big decision, Joel.”

He sighed, his thumb brushing your cheek softly. “I did it because I love you and I want to take care of you. You’ll want for nothing, I promise. Can’t you see that?”

You bit your lip, feeling the conflict inside you. His words were soothing, almost hypnotic, making you question your own doubts. “I just... I need to feel like we’re partners in this, Joel. Like I have a say.”

Joel’s hand moved to the back of your neck, his fingers gently massaging. “You do have a say. I’m listening to you right now, aren’t I? But trust me when I say, some things are better left to me. I want to protect you, to make things easier for you.”

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty. Joel's presence was overwhelming, yet comforting. "Okay," you whispered.

Joel pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “I just want what's best for us. We don’t need outside influences messing with what we have. Like Faith. She’s always been a bad influence.”

You frowned, the mention of Faith bringing back your earlier doubts. “Faith just wants to make sure I’m okay, Joel. She’s my friend.”

He sighed, his fingers still gently massaging your neck. “I get that, but she doesn’t understand us. She’s always filling your head with doubts, making you question everything. We don’t need that kind of negativity.”

You bit your lip, trying to find the right words. “She’s not trying to be negative. She just wants me to feel safe and respected.”

Joel's grip tightened slightly, his tone becoming more insistent. “You are safe and respected with me. You know that. Faith doesn’t see the full picture. She doesn’t understand what we have.”

You looked down, feeling conflicted. “I know she can be overprotective, but she’s just looking out for me.”

He cupped your face, tilting your chin up so you had to meet his gaze. “And so am I. But unlike Faith, I’m here with you every day. I know you better than anyone. You trust me, don’t you?”

You nodded slowly, the intensity of his gaze making it hard to think clearly. “Yes, I trust you, Joel.”

He smiled, his fingers brushing your hair back. “Good. That’s all I need to hear. Just trust me, and I promise everything will be alright.”

You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering doubt. “I do trust you. I just... I don’t want to lose my friends, Joel.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your temple. “You won’t lose your friends, sweetheart. But you need to make sure they’re not causing more harm than good. Sometimes, people don’t understand what’s best for us.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and Joel gently wiped it away. “Don’t cry, baby. I’m here for you. Always.”

You nodded again, feeling the weight of his words. “Okay, Joel.”

Joel led you into the living room, his arm securely wrapped around your waist. He settled onto the couch, pulling you down onto his lap with ease. The warmth of his body enveloped you, and you nestled into him, seeking comfort in his closeness. The unease still lingered, but you tried to focus on the moment.

“That’s better,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “Just relax. I’ve got you.”

You nodded, resting your head against his shoulder, letting out a small sigh. His hands began to move, gently caressing your back in slow, soothing strokes. The tension in your muscles started to ease as he continued to whisper reassurances.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he said softly, his lips brushing your temple. “You don’t need to worry about anything when you’re with me.”

His touch was comforting, and you felt yourself beginning to relax, your worries momentarily forgotten. Joel’s hands wandered lower, tracing delicate patterns along your spine, then slipping under the hem of your shirt. His fingers were warm against your skin, and you shivered slightly at the sensation.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice laced with a seductive edge. “I want to make you feel good. Let me take care of you.”

You felt a surge of heat at his words, your heart beating faster. His hands roamed further, exploring the curve of your waist, then sliding up to cup your breast through your shirt. You gasped softly, the sensation both arousing and comforting.

“Joel...” you began, but he silenced you with a gentle kiss, his lips soft yet insistent against yours.

“Shh,” he murmured against your lips. “Just let go. Let me take care of everything.”

You melted into the kiss, your body responding to his touch despite the lingering doubts in your mind. His hands continued their journey, slipping beneath your shirt and bra, caressing your bare skin. The intimacy of his touch made your pulse race, and you couldn’t help but arch into him, seeking more of the warmth and security he offered.

“You see?” Joel whispered, his lips trailing down your neck. “You don’t need anyone else. I can give you everything you need.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, both arousing and unsettling. You wanted to believe him, to trust that he had your best interests at heart. His hands moved lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants, and you gasped at the intimate touch.

“Joel,” you breathed, your voice trembling. “This feels...”

“Good,” he finished for you, his fingers teasing you with expert precision. “It’s supposed to feel good. Just let yourself enjoy it.”

Joel's touch grew bolder, his fingers moving with deliberate intent. He was taking his time, savoring each moment, and the intensity of his actions left you breathless. His lips found your ear again, his voice a seductive whisper.

"Take off your clothes," he murmured, his hands still exploring your body. "I want to see you."

You hesitated, the command clashing with the turmoil inside you. "Joel, wait," you said softly, trying to steady your voice. "I... I want to try something."

He paused, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "What do you want to try?"

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. "Your belt," you said, reaching for it. "I want to use it."

Joel’s eyes darkened with anticipation, and a smug smile played on his lips. "You want me to tie you up, huh?" he assumed, clearly enjoying the idea.

You shook your head, your heart pounding. "No, Joel. I want to tie you up."

As you reached for his belt, Joel's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice tinged with wariness.

You met his gaze, your hands trembling slightly. "I want to tie you up, Joel. Please, trust me."

His eyes flickered with hesitation, and he pulled back a little. "I don't know about this," he muttered, a frown creasing his forehead. "This wasn't part of the plan."

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside you. "Joel, this is about trust. You always tell me to trust you. Now, I'm asking you to trust me. Just this once."

Joel's jaw tightened, but he didn't pull away. His eyes searched yours for a long moment before he finally nodded. "Alright," he said, his voice low. "But just this once."

You let out a sigh of relief, your fingers resuming their task of unbuckling his belt. The leather felt cool and solid in your hands as you pulled it free, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and exhilaration. Joel's hands were still now, resting on his thighs as he watched you intently.

With the belt in hand, you looped it around his wrists, pulling it tight enough to hold him but not so tight as to cause discomfort. He tested the restraint, his muscles tensing, but didn't try to break free.

"Comfortable?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel smirked, though his eyes held a hint of challenge. "I suppose," he replied, his tone lighter but still tinged with uncertainty.

You positioned yourself on his lap, straddling him, feeling the heat of his body against yours. His bound hands rested on your hips, and you could feel the tension in his grip. Your hands moved to brush his damp hair back from his forehead, your fingers lingering on his skin.

"I want you to trust me, Joel," you said softly, your heart racing. "Just like I trust you."

His eyes softened slightly, and he nodded, his voice a low murmur. "I do trust you. Now, what are you going to do next?"

You leaned in, your lips brushing his ear. "I want to explore," you whispered, echoing his earlier words. "And I want you to see what it feels like to let go."

Joel's breath hitched, and you could sense the shift in his demeanor. He was intrigued, curious, and perhaps a little vulnerable. It was a side of him you hadn't seen before, and it gave you a glimmer of hope that you could find a balance between your desires and his control.

As you began to explore, your hands tracing over his body, you felt a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. This was uncharted territory, but the thrill of it was undeniable. Joel's eyes never left yours, and you could see the challenge in his gaze.

"Show me," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "Show me what you've got."

Your face turned red as you stood up, looking at Joel tied up with his own belt. It was a sight to behold—his damp hair, the way the tent in his pants made them look incredibly tight. You smirked, taking off your top and moving closer to shove your breasts in his face. He tried to bite at your nipples through your bra, making you giggle, but you didn't take it off just yet. 

Instead, you moved to your pants, quickly stripping them off before giving him a seductive look. You dangled your panties in front of his face, giggling again at the hunger in his eyes. He started to claw at the fabric with his teeth. "No, no," you teased, coming to sit on his jean-clad thigh, your knee brushing against his raging hard-on. "Use your words, Mister Miller."

You teasingly put his hands around your neck, his eyes darkening as you started to ride his thigh slowly, giving in exactly where your clit wanted him most. To tease him further, you put the panties in your mouth, letting them dangle as you rode him methodically. "Untie me," Joel growled, grabbing your hair and pulling it back, making you moan and drop the panties.

You rode him a little faster, clinging to his shirt with your hands. "No," you moaned again, your orgasm getting closer. You could hear Joel rustling with the belt behind your head as you rode his thigh faster and faster. Just as you were edging toward your orgasm, you heard the sound of something heavy fall to the floor. 

You looked down and saw his belt on the floor. Joel smirked at you before throwing you into the couch cushions, your ass in the air and on full display for him. He unhooked your bra, caressing your skin and grabbing everything he could. He pushed his hard-on into your ass, making you grind into it once again. "I said untie me," Joel growled as he pulled down his pants and boxers. 

"Teasing me—who are you, baby?" he pulled you up to his chest as he slid his cock into you. The stretch, painful at first, quickly faded into pure pleasure. "You're just so cock drunk," he chuckled as he thrusted up into you. Your moans were the only response you could get out. 

"Teasing me with your panties, thinking I wouldn't bend you over and fuck you into oblivion," he pushed your head down into the cushions and started pounding into you, using his hands to stabilize your hips. The sounds were so erotic—your moans muffled, his skin slapping against yours, and the squelching sound of your pussy being stretched out. 

You moved your hand to rub your clit, your orgasm so close, and Joel could tell. "That's it, there's that pussy, making you feel so good, aren't I?" he continued to pound into you as you rubbed your clit. With a loud cry, your orgasm washed over you, making your hips instinctively move forward. Joel tightened his hold on your hips, his fingers sure to leave bruises. "Not so fast, pretty girl," his voice starting to break as he thrust slowly, fucking you through your orgasm and letting himself hit his.

He let out a high-pitched groan as he came inside you, his long, thick ropes of cum filling your insides. He pulled out and idly fell back onto the couch. You lay there for a moment, basking in the feeling of his warm cum all over your cunt. 

"Go get cleaned up, my cum's dripping on the couch," Joel chuckled as he playfully pushed your legs off the couch. You stood up and walked to the bathroom, still trembling from the intensity of what just happened.

[luckykiwiii101]

Okay this is outrageously easy. The way I overcomplicated everything is ummm embarrassing but we move…

So I just really thought and took in that I don't have to put anything on a pedestal and tire myself out I should just stick to that “idc” mindset I have. I was manifesting waking up in the void since I wanted to experience it (and probably manifest my dream life through it) and I was like it's literally nothing, not that deep. Before I would affirm and vaunt many times, visualise and I’d experience that feeling of fulfilment and knowing multiple times until it felt natural. Then yesterday I basically just left it all alone since I already did everything (even when I didn't have to) so it's basically inevitable for me to get what i want, there’s no point in doing anything more now (also methods made me feel like i was struggling to “get” and i didn’t like that). Anyway last night I woke up in the void (by literally falling asleep normally) and I didn't even freak out or anything I was just like "hm okay". I affirmed that I manifest things I want extremely fast and I wake up in the void every night, after I just chilled there for a bit.

I came across this post on how to make your desires feel natural to you i forgot who it was and I honestly can’t be asked finding it but it said to think of it this way. Let’s say many people want a certain feature you have like your eye colour or hair type/texture and they really want it, they even get hella excited or happy thinking about having it. But when you actually take the time to think about that feature you don't even give much of a reaction like you don't care as much that's cus you already have it, it's always been yours. I know I'm repeating what everyone has said and that's because that's literally all there is to say honestly. So being on tumblr scavenging for answers isn't doing anything really. everyone will just repeat the same thing but phrased differently to help people understand better and some people will get mad about them repeating themselves like….. yeah..? that's basically the answer to all your questions.

You think you’re “waiting” to “get” your desires but like it’s the other way round, your desires are waiting for you to wake up and accept that they’re already yours

So it's all just crickets and tumbleweed, if you're just sitting there questioning why you, apparently, don't have your desires. Imagine your desires are just awkwardly watching you ignoring the fact that you already have them and they’re right there in front of you. They’re probably just looking to the left and right, scratching their head. it's especially awkward when you're looking at the 3D for answers when it's literally useless and doesn't do shit, it only reflects old circumstances. That can only change when you turn to yourself or the 4D for answers, and of course any method will help but then again it all comes down to you to decide if it works. If you "want" your desires don’t dismiss what it is that "gets" you them...idk how to phrase it but just start applying and persist it's honestly too easy.

Anyway enough from me, I'm finally deleting this app right after this. This was long sorry if it doesn't make sense but this is how I understood it. To summarise you're all that's left to"getting" your desires. Think of it as having a breakdown over not being able to find your glasses or hair tie but turns out you're wearing it the entire time.

Thank you Wii and all the other bloggers who take the time out of their day to help others with all of this. Take care of yourselves!!

THIS IS AMAZING!!! I’m SO proud of you!! SOMEONE WHO ACTUALLY APPLIED WHAT THEY KNEW AND NOW LOOK AT THEM!! you deserve this so much honestly i’m beyond happy for you!

Also i REALLY love the way you put yourself on the pedestal by saying that your desires are waiting for YOU and not the other way round.

[dangerliesbeforeyou]

ok so ive been rewatching psychoville and saw on the wikipedia that there were a bunch of websites made for the series (they were all written by reece and steve btw) which i've been looking through cos they are genuinely SO fucking funny & also just amazingly creative lol!

anyway i know people in the fandom probs already know about this (since the show came out literally 15 years ago pfft) but i thought i'd share some of my fav bits (but honestly would just recommend just checking them out if you haven't i have been crying with laughter for literally hours lol)

i will say that a lot of the media (videos, games, etc) no longer work on the archived sites rip but i'm sure people have uploaded some of the stuff (vids especially) to yt or other places lol

so a) i love that we get some background stuff on jelly and 2) 'captain CRACKERS' bernie clifton's dressing room reference question mark ??????? (ofc bcdr was AFTER this but i know love the idea that mr jelly trained under len pfft)

what that red raw stump do though 👀 (sorry pfffft)

mr jolly's website wasn't that interesting soz tho i did like him comparing being a doctor to being a clown lol

the comment about fag bears did make me wheeze i'm afraid lol i also loved the blurry photos of lomax's commodities lol (kinda reminded me of the bit in tlog w/ that terrible old photographer guy lol)

when i tell you i DIED with laughter at the 'now known as hull' bit like u just know reece wrote that bit pfft

not really a funny thing but this poem written by david honestly kinda breaks my heart lol... i think it also a lot of additional context to david's guilt when he thought he'd killed his father(faver) because perhaps he felt guilty about NOT feeling guilty you get me? like, it felt to me that when maureen told david it was SHE who killed her husband, it didn't feel like he was mad at her for doing it, but more that she kept the fact from him. it's about... the mutual oedipus-coded obsession with one another that couldn't even be destroyed in death and in this essay i will....

ghoul_lass23 is just like me but about tumblr lol fr

nothing feels more cursed than the phrases 'the river minge has burst its banks', 'crying creamy tears' and 'fleshy rapunzel' (which i've just noticed they misspelt lol... don't think that was intentional lol?) so if i had to read this so do you <3

the way that i kinda wish this actually existed tho pfft... also, it does kinda remind me of that video where jenny nicholson talked about that insane reality show 'opposite worlds' lol

'cross between seven and glee' is honestly sending me pfft

also on this part there was a script from stinkfinger (which is a show mentioned on the show) which sounded suspiciously like a reference to tlc lol

the less said about swastknickers the better

(will say i did nearly piss myself laughing at the nazi section of the hoity toity website lol which wasn't a sentence i thought i'd type today lol)

i just love these kinds of jokes pfft

also the whole biography sections of each of the pantomime cast are fab lol tho i AM kinda pissed they made debbie from yeovil and yet didn't give her a west country accent lol!!! (i guess they thought it'd be a bit much w/ joy being bristolian but i'm still mad about it lol)

also i know people have probably already pointed this out but i do find it funny that brian in the in9 episode last night of the proms is a closeted gay guy who likes watching drag was probably a reference to brian in this show that was a drag queen like... is anything these guys do NOT a reference??? u know those gaylor fans who obsessively look for clues in her songs about her apparent secret sexuality? all i'm saying is that i think they'd really like the extended reece shearsmith & steve pemberton universe pfft

all three of these made me cry with laughter lol

ohh this is interesting lol so obviously they suspected that some people might be all 'um why didn't the sprinklers go off during the fire at ravenhill? plot hole much!' so they wrote this into one of the websites so they could be like SEE! WE'RE ONE STEP AHEAD OF YOU DUMBASSES lol

both the jeremy kyle reference (remember when that was a thing? yikes... my mum used to watch his show CONSTANTLY...) and nurse kenshington's thoughts on david and maureen are interesting lol.. also there's a reference to the serial killer top trumps in this bit lol! (do people still play top trumps?? man i LOVED top trumps lol...)

the entire sunnyvale care home section is so fucking funny (both the website AND in the show lol mrs wren/mrs ladybird face is unironically probably my favourite character on the entire show) these were just some of my fav gags lol...

ok but why is this the SECOND reference to a guy punching a child who was apparently looking at his dick lol!??!! did this happen to one of you ??!!?!? reece did you punch a child ??!???!?!??

&&&& that's it lol

there were a few websites i didn't spend long on or generally weren't that interesting (coughmidgetgemscough) but honestly? i was really captivated with just how funny and well put together all these sites were! you can tell they had a lot of fun making it and i'm sure fans at the time LOVED being able to have this semi-interactive element of the show lol

there was just something so wonderfully late 00's about these websites lol i genuinely don't think i've laughed this much at anything in literal months and all of this is just solidifies that psychoville is a criminally under-appreciated masterpiece lol

[artificial-transmutations]

Trophy Husband

"That's your boyfriend?" Charlie knew exactly where this was going. He had just shown Linda, a good friend of his, a picture of his boyfriend Theodore, and she already made 'the face'.

"But isn't he..." she began and trailed off, probably searching for a way to phrase it nicely.

Charlie could have helped her, as he knew exactly what she was going to say, but he let her suffer.

"... Perhaps a tiny bit older than you?"

It was true, and Charlie couldn't even be mad at Linda for pointing it out. He would probably have done so, too, if he were in her shoes. The fact was that Theodore was indeed older than Charlie, and not just a bit. With his forty-six years, he was more than twice as old as 21 year old Charlie, and could definitely pass as his father.

"I know."

Charlie knew it, and Linda knew it too. Even though Charlie loved Theodore dearly, he knew what people would think about them. People often assumed that an older man would take advantage of a younger one - that Charlie was kind of a trophy boyfriend for Theodore.

"But it's nothing weird. We're just in love, that's all."

Charlie could tell Linda was not convinced, but forced a smile and nodded, congratulating him on his new relationship.

Later, at dinner with his boyfriend, Charlie told Theodore about his encounter with Linda.

"You know, it's so weird to talk to my friends about us. They all assume that you are some kind of weirdo, or I am just a trophy boyfriend for you. Sometimes I hate that I'm so young compared to you." Charlie said, with a twinge of unhappiness.

Theodore smiled warmly and put his hand on Charlie's knee.

"Well, they couldn't be more wrong. I genuinely love you my dear. You're the only person that matters to me, and you always will be."

Charlie felt his heart melting, and he leaned over the table to kiss his boyfriend.

"Besides, what's wrong with being young? You're so energetic and good looking. Look at me, I have wrinkles already, and my hair is graying. I'm stuck in a boring dead-end office job, and I know that nobody would hire me anymore. I really do wish to be as young as you are again.", he adds with a tender smile.

"You shouldn't. Being young isn't so great. Nobody takes me seriously because I look like I just finished school. And talking about jobs: I can't find a good job either, because everyone is looking for the twenty year old with ten years of experience now. It's ridiculous. I wish I could just magically leave that all behind me and be as old as you. Then nobody would think of us as a weird couple."

After this heart-to-heart, both men grew silent.

Theodore felt weird. The conversation had a strange weight that still resonated between the two of them. Did he really look that old? He stood up and went over to the large mirror in his living room. Sure, he had some wrinkles, and his hair and beard were graying, but it wasn't so bad, right?

He went with his hand over his wrinkles and stretched his skin. Surprisingly enough, once he removed his hand, his skin stayed exactly like that - no more wrinkles, only firm skin. It gave his face a youthful impression he had long lost. It didn't stop there, though. Like a bushfire, the firm skin extended from the point where he touched it outward, quickly stretching out all the wrinkles in his face. The skin cleaned up in the process, as it stretched and firmed.

His hair, too, changed. All the little gray hairs that had appeared over the years returned to their original black color - a process most notably in his stubbly beard that grew more impressive by the minute before suddenly disappearing completely, leaving his chin clean-shaven.

As the transformation spread downward, Theodore hurried to get out of his shirt, to have a better look.

His belly that had turned slightly flabby shrank and became fitter, as did his ass. His biceps grew thicker and his pecs bigger, while his legs became more muscular. All the extra weight he had gained throughout the years seemed to simply melt away, as if he had spent the last decades in a strict fitness program.

Theodore regarded himself in the mirror with a proud smile on his face. Not only did he look fitter, but also younger. His chest hair disappeared just like his beard hat, leaving behind only a muscular and young well-groomed chest worthy of a movie star. His trousers shortened and turned into a completely white pair of shorts, with a generous bulge growing in them. Theodore gave it a squeeze, amazed by the amount of cockmeat he had gained. He could feel himself getting hard just by looking at his reflection. Theodore's eyes turned a bright blue, and blonde dyed highlights appeared in his hair.

Theo shook his head and smirked. He was just looking awesome, as always. And also as always, he was feeling really horny!

He cupped his bulge as he turned around.

Charlie was watching from behind him in awe. What had just happened? He had watched Theodore transform into a young muscular bodybuilder. That couldn't be right!

Still, Charlie himself felt a weird tingling sensation in his body. Fine little hair grew all over him, itching as it did so. Charlie, too got rid of his shirt and pants, standing only in boxers, to watch what was going on. His chest was quickly filled with short brown hairs that continued down in a treasure trail to disappear into his boxers. Underneath the hair, however, his body firmed up considerably. He, too, grew fitter and more muscular than he had before, but it was a different kind of body from the one Theodo- wait, that felt wrong. Charlie frowned and tried the thought again. It was a different kind of body from the one Theo had. Better. It was a product of years of willpower and work, not the easily malleable flesh of youth. That was a body he had worked on for decades!

Charlie watched the hair on his chest turn gray, as he looked down on himself with his usual stern look. It was just his standard way of looking, a fact that made most of his subordinates feel uneasy. Being the CEO of a multi-million dollar company left hardly any time for smiling or all this nonsense. He had to exert authority at every time.

His hair became shorter, styled into a perfect and expensive cut, as their color turned the same silver as his body hair. He touched his face with his weathered, strong hands, feeling the wrinkles all the stress and years of his live have brought him. Sometimes, Charles asked himself if he was getting old. But no. With his 49 years, he was still perfectly in control. He had money, power and authority, and still a great body. And contrary to popular believe, money could buy happiness.

He looked over to his husband Theo, who was busy admiring himself in the mirror again. He was half his age, and dumb as a brick. He would never succeed in live, but he didn't need to. All he needed to do was look good on Charles' side, keep his body in check and present his ass every time Charles' python, which was growing hard in the tight underwear that were once boxer shorts, needed release.

He didn't need to decide or think. Charles' was the one paying the bills and Charles' was the one in control here. Theo was just his trophy husband - and both were very happy with that.

Another request from a subscriber over at my riot page that they chose to make publicitly available. Enjoy!

[my-my-my]

Hey, could you write an au where Aizen realises he has a crush on his academic rival (preferably a woman)?

This is a super cute idea!!

I wouldn't say this is fluffy since its hard for me to write/characterize Aizen in a fluffy tone lol.

Songs that inspired this fic:

MICHELLE - LOVE UR NAME

Still Woozy - Frida Kahlo

Yoshihito Yano feat. Micazo - Sayonara Rolling Star (Yuri's Mixx)

TW: none.

In the distance near the atrium, Sosuke watched students race to the results board. It was the end of the academic season, with the results of their final kido exam posted on the overarching board amongst the camelias.

Students wearing stark white kosodes with blue and red hakamas crowded the board, some pointing and shouting with glee, others looked despondent as they trudged back to their dormitories.

Sosuke knew what his result would be, top of the class as he was with most of his other classes. His natural talent in kido, coupled with his “natural” humility and grace, won all of his teachers over. Even as he approached the board, the students passing by congratulated him on having “one of the top scores in the class”. One? Sosuke thought to himself. A bit odd they would phrase it that way, until he stood behind two students.

“Wow, Aizen-san is going to be a such a great candidate for the Gotei 13 with the way his marks are! I wouldn’t be surprised if he reaches lieutenant before any of us.” One student said, with awe lacing their words.

“I’m surprised actually. I thought he would be first.” Said another student.

And with those words, Sosuke scanned the board where his name was next to the number two.

And you were there at number one.

Sosuke clenched his fist, trying to relax. Taking a deep breath, he thanked the two students in front of him, who jumped at his presence. The students congratulated Sosuke, but not without one of them saying, “you know, between you and me, I think you should’ve been first! You’ve been so helpful to all of us with that class. I can’t believe you missed out on a point.”

But ever as humble, Sosuke sheepishly thanked them and said that “hard work” could only get him so far, and some people with natural talent like you would prevail in the end. Empty words for Sosuke as he seethed inside.

No one really knew him amongst the academy, no one would be able to see the anger flashing in his eyes as he made his way to the library.

He knew where you preferred to study, which window had the best light, yet was quiet and away from the boisterous noises from students near the common areas.

And like clockwork, he found you – but instead of being buried in textbooks, you were facing the window.

Sosuke counted to five in his mind as he tried to reign in his anger and disappointment at his kido exam, “congratulations.” He muttered.

You turned around, a large smile adorning your face. He wanted to wipe it off your face. “You too, Aizen-san! You helped me a lot with that class, so I have something for you.” In your hands was a modest gift bag, which you pushed towards him to take.

Shock washed over Sosuke’s face as he stared at you and the gift in his hand. He wanted to be mad at you.

But he really couldn’t be mad at you. You were never one to gloat about your marks or achievements. The humility and grace he performed for his classmates and teachers, was just a mimicry of your natural charm and kindness. Sosuke had watched you since you were always at the top of the class. He hated to acknowledge it, but watching you help your junior classmates with some kido work and practice spurred an unusual feeling for him. Your acts of kindness and mentorship encouraged him to do the same with his classmates.

A part of him knew doing these things would be beneficial for him, people would never think the ever so helpful and patient Aizen Sosuke would ever hurt anyone (unless it was absolutely necessary). Whatever kind act he saw you perform; he would do as well.

It bothered him on some level, how natural these things came to you. It made him wonder if you were like him, if doing these helpful deeds, kind gestures and acts of humility were to deter people from knowing the real you.

But as the years went on between your and Sosuke’s academic rivalry, this was your inherent nature. To Sosuke, you infuriated him. Intelligent people, smart people, people like you weren’t supposed to help “the weak.” They had to defend themselves and those who came out on top were the successors to the world around them.

“Aizen-san? Are you alright? You look like you’re in pain.” You asked, concern evident through your voice. Another annoyance to Sosuke, why would you care?

“I don’t understand you.” Sosuke said, with an exasperated tone.

You looked at him with confusion, “I’m sorry about the gift? You didn’t look at it, but I can exchange it to something else you’d prefer.” Confusion riddled your voice, unsure as to why Sosuke was angry.

Sighing, Sosuke looked at the gift bag and opened it. His heart started to beat faster, for one of the first times in his life, he was confused as to what he was feeling. There, neatly wrapped and secure, was a block of Kobaien sumi ink, with a Sakura wood brush and Tomoe River paper. You had gotten him an elaborate calligraphy set.

“Why did you get me this?” Aizen asked, his heart still beating loudly.

“To thank you of course! And although I didn’t take the class, I loved seeing your calligraphy work. I wasn’t sure what to get you, so I asked around for recommendations.” You kept rambling on, avoiding his gaze as you felt your cheeks grow hot. “You’re so talented Aiz—”

“Please just call me Sosuke.” He said, trying to calm his mind and emotions. He noticed the faint blush appearing across your face.

You stammered a bit, but nodded, “You’re incredibly talented, Sosuke.”

The two of you stood in silence, a slightly awkward, slightly tense, feeling growing between the two of you.

“You –”

“Sosuke, I –”

The two of you spoke at the same time, earning a nervous laugh from you, and for one of the rare times in Sosuke’s life, a genuine smile.

It was then he grew to accept the fluttering feelings he had around you. Why he wanted to crush you, yet spoil you rotten. Why he detested the time you spent with others, when you and him could study together, alone.

He fell for you and wanted you all to himself.

Gripping the gift closer to him, Sosuke looked at you with such intensity, a look you had never seen before. He gently cupped your chin, holding your gaze with his.

With a quiet whisper of your name, you heard Sosuke say three words you never expected to hear, “I like you.”

“I like you too, Sosuke.” And with a grin, you pulled his face down for a quick kiss on the cheek.

But before the two of you could say anything more, a few students were in the aisles nearby. Sosuke helped you pack away your things before anyone could come closer. Once everything was where it needed to be, Sosuke gave you a peck on the cheek, as the two of you left the library, hand-in-hand.

Thanks for the ask, anon! Hope this was to your liking.

Fun fact: Kobaien ink can be anywhere from $1000 USD or higher and is known for its incredibly pigmented black ink, Tomoe River paper is one of the best calligraphy papers to write on, and both have existed (as companies) since the 1500 or 1600s in Japan.

Why is Japanese calligraphy ink so expensive?