#can you believe this isn't even my most shameful fuck

[cipher00]

Major Montana Max NS/W Alphabet

Explicit smut topics under the cut! If you're a minor get out of here please.

Word count: 2,042

Any gender reader, canon Montana Max

There's just not enough content for this sexy charming bastard so you know I had to put yall on

A = Aftercare

I believe the Major might bring his lover some water after if they're unable to get up as a result of his handiwork. He may also clean them up, but he'd definitely tease you as he does, trailing his fingers over sensitive spots, caressing your spent body sensually as he cleans you off.

B = Body Part (Which body part is their favorite)

The Major isn't immune to the beauty of standard body parts such as tits and ass, but I personally think he'd be more attracted to more muscular or lean parts. Arms, legs, or anything that helps you in combat. He loves to watch you fight and kill. As he said before, nothing is more arousing than the sounds POW's make as they get blown apart, and if you're the cause of that, it would just take him to an even greater high.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

The Major loves the idea of cumming inside you, marking and claiming your body and truly ruining you inside and out, only for him to enjoy. At the same time, he would likely also enjoy painting you in white, loving the humiliation aspect. Besides, it only makes you look all the more sinful.

D = Dirty Secret (A dirty secret of his)

Though The Major would never indulge it, he secretly loves the idea of a powerful woman dominating him in the bedroom. In his eyes, it would feel like the wins and losses on the glorious battlefield; being overpowered and taken by force. Of course, he wouldn't let this happen, as he has to keep up appearances and keep a firm hold of his power.

E = Experience

In the words of another HC I love - "The Major gets hella pussy and no one can convince me otherwise." Sure he's a ruthless Nazi Major, but he does have that charm and charisma. Not to mention with the use that accent and a slight shift his tone, his voice becomes as smooth as honey. Needless to say that he knows his way around a body or ten. He'll please his partner, but he'll have his own way of doing it, meaning that you might just be on the edge of orgasm for hours.

F = Favorite Position

I would say missionary and breeding press are his favorites. Any position that lets him hold all the power and allows him to hit the right spots that makes you keen for him, really.

G = Goofy (Is he humorous in the moment? Does he make jokes?)

I don't think he would joke around per se, but if you were to accidentally do something goofy or embarrassing by accident, he may tease you about it or rib you a bit. Anything to keep you transfixed on him.

H = Hair (How is he groomed? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

I personally think the Major is shaved clean down there. He seems the type to take good care of his own personal hygiene, not liking to feel unclean. He may be fat, but he's no pig.

I = Intimacy (How is he in the moment through a romantic aspect?)

Pretty much nonexistent, as love in the world he lives in would be a weakness, something to make him vulnerable and lose some of his power. Anything he has personal ties to can be used to manipulate him by someone else. Hypothetically though, if he did feel love towards his tryst partner, he may show it in the smallest ways possible without being explicit about it. Tender kisses against your lips as opposed to rough, hungry ones, and littering kisses all over your body. Practically worshipping you.

J = Jerk Off

Being in his position, with his responsibilities and plans, he doesn't have much time to jerk off. But even when he does have the time, it isn't too often; only a few times a month. His mentality is that if he wants it, why shouldn't he have it? But even so, after all the work he's done conducting plans for the new war, doesn't he deserve his private time?

K = Kink

You name it, he probably has it. Some big favorites would be gun/knifeplay (goes without saying), bondage, lingerie, sadism/masochism, etc. He indulges in these like he would a fine wine. Without a doubt, I can also see him loving it when you call him by his title. Pleading for your Major to let you finish, please.

L = Location (Where is his favorite place to do it?)

He'll take you just about anywhere. It's not like anyone's going to stop him, and he just loves to see if he can break you down and make you scream for him when you should be quiet so as not to reveal yourselves doing something you shouldn't be. And if someone discovered you two, he would probably either shoot them (assuming he could even hit the target), or intensify his ministrations to show the poor schmuck how good he fucks his women.

M = Motivation (What turns him on and gets him going?)

To see you maim and kill an enemy is his ultimate aphrodisiac. His darling, enjoying the spoils and glory of war. If you're enjoying it, he most definitely will. If he thinks that seeing the horrors of war by itself is arousing, that's increased tenfold when he catches you being the cause of such sights. Of course if you were to find yourself wanting, he couldn't deny you. Especially not when you plead so nicely for him.

N = NO (Something he won't do, turn offs)

I would say he wouldn't limit most things, but anything scat would have to be a hard no. It's unclean, and straight up nasty. That being said, he may be into bloodplay, or physically injuring his darling if that's what they want too.

If you want it, he needs it.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Probably prefers to be on the giving end. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing like the sight of your mouth stuffed full of him, but he enjoys watching you come apart from the barest of touches, and being reduced to nothing more than a begging mess for more than what he's giving you. Me and my buddy also HC that he enjoys his partner sitting on his face (lol).

P = Pace (Is he fast, slow, stamina, etc)

His pace entirely depends on his intent. Generally, he'll be hard and fast, pumping into you mercilessly with full strokes that hits the back of your walls and leaves you crying out as you try to ground yourself by grabbing anything nearby. However, if he's feeling particularly cruel, he'll fuck you slowly and shallowly, not nearly giving you enough of what you need. He'll only let you have it once you've convinced him that you deserve this pleasure. Only then will he speed up, treading on the line of what's too much for you to handle.

Q = Quickies (His opinion on them? How often?)

The Major will 100% do quickies. It's an opportunity to satisfy his and your cravings, though it's often tangled with the risk of being discovered. While he does enjoy this though, he much prefers taking his time with you, toying with your body and leaving you on the edge of climax again and again. Teasing and denying until he finally gives in to you, and rewards you for being such a good little darling for him.

R = Risk (Will he experiment? Does he take risks?)

He'll absolutely take risks. There's almost nothing he wouldn't do, even if that involves direct threat to life. He'll fuck you in public, reminding you that you need to be quiet if you don't want to be caught by others. Even so, he'll still work your body to the point that you can't help but make noise. The thrill of being discovered only does more for him. Besides, what is the enemy going to do, kill him? Not until he's finished here, thank you. He's also not opposed to trying things that could hurt you, such as weaponplay. The element of danger just makes it so much more delicious.

I figure he would be a bit possessive, but at the same time, I can kind of see him allowing the Doc to fuck you as long as he watches, potentially even joining in to take you to new heights. When you look over to him, he'll tut and tell you to "Keep your eyes on ze man zhat's fucking you."

S = Stamina (How many rounds can he go for? How long does he last?)

Being that he essentially became a cyborg, I'd say his stamina is better than that of your average human. He can easily outpace you, and keep on going even past your point of exhaustion. And even then, he'll continue. "You can do better zhan zat," He insists. "I'll make you come for me again."

T = Toys (Does he own toys? Does he use them?)

He probably owns just a fleshlight (based off of some official-looking art I saw). As long as it gets the job done. But when it comes to you, I've no doubt he has a few things in stock. Rope, blindfold, perhaps a gag, and a vibrator. He loves nothing more than to play with your body with that until you're begging for the real thing.

U = Unfair (How much does he like to tease?)

Oh boy. He might as well be the king of teasing. On a normal day he'll wind you up with small things. The silken sound of his voice, lingering touches, or perhaps low, whispered comments in your ear about how you are looking 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 tonight. He'll whisper all sorts of filthy things in your ear, knowing perfectly well the effect that it has, and then proceed to walk away and leave you to these thoughts and desires he's invoked.

He'll spend hours teasing at you, knowing how to play your body perfectly like it's a delicate instrument, only to then deny you of what you need most, telling you that you have not yet earned the right. That you won't finish until he says so. And even then, that 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴.

Teasing him is a two way street. Either he finds it amusing, or you're being tied up and edged until your face is streaked with tears and your voice is nearly hoarse with pleas that 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦.

V = Volume (How loud he is? What kind of noises does he make?)

In public settings I can see him being silent, save for a few growls or grunts. He knows that you love to hear him, so in more private settings he may make sensual, guttural noises for you, accompanied by praises or more dirty talk.

W = Wild Card

There's an AU idea I've started where he became a catholic priest. As far as that goes, he will definitely indulge in confessional sex. Having you ride him in the booth, clamping a hand over your mouth to keep you silent as he whispers more than sinful things to you.

X = X-Ray (What's under the clothes?)

There is some really convincing official-looking art that portrays him as having next to nothing. But fuck that, this is my obsession. I would say at least 5 inches hard; a nice fair average size for him. Though maybe if he's particularly riled up, an extra inch.

Y = Yearning (How high is his sex drive?)

Before you came along it wasn't that high. Maybe he satisfied himself a couple times a month. But with you there, hoo boy. Any opportunity he has to make you scream and whine for him, he's taking. You are his fetish, after all.

Z = Zzz (How quickly does he fall asleep afterwards?)

Depends on the circumstances. If he has important work to do, I believe he'll have the stamina to get up and continue on with whatever he was doing before, or whatever needs to be done. Though if he does have the luxury of time on his side, he may stay beside you and trace over your figure idly before eventually falling asleep.

[eufezco]

BIRDS OF A FEATHER༄

the tva erased you from your timeline when logan died, you've been living in the void since then.

angst + fluff. no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!)

you couldn't take your eyes off them.

you were at the table sitting next to logan, on his other side was laura. he held wade's dog while she played with it and you couldn't take your eyes off them. you couldn't believe it. you had to pinch yourself a few times to confirm that you weren't dreaming.

you thought you'd never see a scene like that ever again. the two of them together. how many times you had looked at the sky and cursed the universe for not giving the three of you more time?

when your logan died, the time variance authority decided that the sacred timeline didn't need you anymore so they erased you and sent you to the void. you preferred it that way, you didn't want to live in a timeline in which he was gone but you were also angry because they didn't have to drag little laura to that place with you.

you didn't remember how much time you spent in the void but seeing how laura had grown into a woman, you guessed that it had been a long time since you left your timeline.

when you got to that place, she was just a child. scared, angry, who had just lost the most important person in her life. and you were just the same, except that you were not a child and you had to take care of both of you. no matter how much you wanted to die, you had to stay alive for laura. but also for logan, for the way you both cried and held his bloody hands while he died and for not letting her be what they made her for.

and no matter how strong your mutations were, you didn't know how long you would have lasted there if it hadn't been for elektra, johnny, blade, and gambit. they found you when you were escaping from alioth and let you into their hideout. they explained to you how things worked there and eventually, they allowed you to stay with them.

until one day you walked into that same hiding place, and there he was, drinking gambit's alcohol and wearing a yellow spandex suit. you felt your heart beating so hard that it seemed to be fighting to get out and reach him. you brought a hand to your chest to feel it. it had gone so long without beating that way that sometimes you thought you left it buried with him in your timeline.

logan also felt his heartbeat accelerate but he quickly took his eyes off of you and drank a long sip from the bottle. he wasn't alone, a deadpool was with him, you recognized the suit, they were quite popular in the void. he shook his hands and gave little jumps of excitement. you looked at him confused, did you know each other?

—of course, you are here! there's no you without logan and there's no logan without you! do you know how hard it's been to find a proper wolverine? there are so many fucking timelines without one because you died! —deadpool exclaimed when he saw you. —and this one is not even a proper wolverine! you know they call him the worst logan? and he won't tell me why they call him that, can you believe it?—deadpool acted offended, you didn't know what to say. —wait... —he turned to look at logan. —was there a she in your timeline? i didn't get to meet her, they're usually nicer than you.

logan ignored the question and simply drank from the bottle again as he stormed out of your hideout.

he avoided you as much as he could. he did not look you in the eyes, he did not address you when he spoke. how could he? the last time logan saw you, your lifeless body was piled up next to scott's. shame consumed him even at the thought of just approaching you. his hands trembled, a knot formed in his stomach, his pulse quickened.

you came over to talk to him that same night.

logan was sitting in front of the campfire, alone, with a bottle of liquor in his hand. how many had he drunk? he saw you approaching and tried to convince you that he wanted to be alone but you still sat next to him.

—what was i like?

logan took a long sip of alcohol when you asked. he said nothing, just stared into the fire, so you decided to take the turn. —you were grumpy, i guess that doesn't change in any of your variants, and you wouldn't have worn that yellow spandex suit in a thousand years.

he looked at you with a frown when you said that. the same way your logan would have looked at you. you continued talking. —you were stubborn, never asked for help, and you were tired all the fucking time because you worked your ass off to get us out of the shitty place we were living in.

he stared at you in silence while you talked. the person you were describing definitely sounded like a version of him.

—you always said that i didn't need to wait up for you but i know you liked it when you came home late at night and i was there and i know you hated the way i folded your shirts but you never said anything because you knew i didn't know how to do it any other way.

you felt a lump forming in your throat. you turned your head, hiding your face from logan so he couldn't see how you used your thumb to wipe away the tear rolling down your cheek. —but you were so brave, and caring, and i loved you with all my heart. you always looked after me even when you were fucking dying with each passing day.

by the tone in your voice and how well you remembered every detail, he guessed that your logan was suddenly taken away from you. oh, he knew that feeling so well.

you were about to get up and leave, you didn't want to bother him anymore and you had already overshared enough with him, when all of a sudden, he started talking.

—you were the sweetest. fuck, i never knew why you were with me. i always thought you deserved better, but there was no way to get you off my ass —. he closed his eyes and shook his head. —and i tried, i tried to push you away and get you to find a guy who deserved you, but there was no way. and i didn't really want you to do it because i was so fucking in love with you.

logan drank from the bottle, trying to let the alcohol sliding down his throat drag with it the tears forming in his eyes. —you liked to read in the garden of the mansion on sunny days and when it rained you'd open my bedroom window to listen to the rain and get into my bed while i was sleeping so i could keep you warm.

there was silence as logan took another sip, almost finishing all the alcohol. —and i left you to fucking die.

the worst logan. at that moment you understood why he was called that, you didn't him to explain it. wade said that in all the timelines he had visited, there was no you without logan and there was no logan without you.

however, in his timeline there was logan but there wasn't you.

he was called the worst logan because he was doomed to live in his timeline without you.

you grabbed the bottle from his hands and drank the alcohol left. —yeah, i couldn't save you either.

you kept each other company that night. most of the time in silence, watching the fire consume the wood, other times you commented on the situation, you talked about cassandra nova, the people you had met there in the void, he even asked you about laura. and at the end of the night, you were sitting next to him with your head resting on his shoulder and him watching you sleep peacefully.

the next morning you headed off to fight cassandra nova. you knew that logan would end up joining you, it was in his nature.

you and laura managed to remove the helmet from juggernaut's head and you ran to give it to wade. when cassandra opened the portal using strange's ring you were there, you could've left with wade and logan, but you couldn't leave laura there. cassandra's allies had pulled themselves together and she was struggling to fight back.

before you went to help her and logan jumped into the portal, he wrapped one of his big arms around your waist and pulled you into a kiss. you rested your hands against his chest and closed your eyes, enjoying those few seconds of your lips pressed together.

—oh, fuck. seriously now? i know how important fan service is for marvel but we literally have a chance to get the fuck out of here—. wade complained.

—i'll get you out. you and the kid, i promise i won't leave you here —. he said as he started walking backward towards the portal. you nodded, if there was one thing you were sure of, it was that no wolverine in the multiverse would break a promise.

and just as you were right about all wolverines being grumpy, you were right about that too. agents from the time variance authority went into the void to get you and laura that same day and now you were having dinner with him, laura, wade, and his family.

you couldn't take your eyes off him.

he had the same look in his eyes. that little sparkle in his deep brown eyes. he was happy, smiling as he played with the dog and laura, calm knowing that you were by his side. you looked away from him when he caught you staring.

—what is it?

you shook your head and pressed your lips together, showing him a little smile. —nothing.

—come on, spit it out.

—it's just... i feel i could fall in love with every version of you.

logan nodded slowly, his eyes were now fixed on yours. —i've had the same feeling.

wade, who was distracted with vanessa but not enough to not be paying attention to your conversation, decided to intervene. —oh honey, wait until you meet the crucified one. you will want to take that back.

you and logan looked at each other confused.

[heroesneedalancer]

Post by u/DJConvex to r/AskReddit on Nov 6, 2024:

People who work in DC for the government, what is the vibe?

Comment by u/Meduselde:

Resigned. We are generally very good about not discussing politics in the workplace but the vibe was obviously off. My more conservative colleagues who were happy Trump won were extremely respectful. There wasn't smug gloating and they were very obviously being cognizant of others' feelings even more than normal. It was extremely appreciated. Ultimately, we survived the first administration and will survive again. It's not necessarily Trump who was the problem last time, but his inexperienced senior appointees. The world isn't going to end nor do I feel democracy will crumble at his feet. It's just gonna be chaotic, and that's the worst part as a worker bee. At least with Biden we had consistent leadership and clear guidance, even if you didn't agree with it. Under Trump, your "yes man" says "no" and that's how you rotate through four SECDEFs. But as a sign of hope, it also means that even the most loyal DO say "no" sometimes, especially when businessmen are finally confronted with the realities of governance.

They chill out REAL quick on their dismantlement plans when they see the work these agencies do and what's at stake if they don't stand up for their people. It's easy to say you will dissolve or cut funding for something when you do not truly understand it. And as much as people say we can ALL be magically replaced with "yes men," even the most stone-hearted appointees recognize that the last thing you ever want is to lose the entirety of your skilled workforce. They learn it's best to get the skilled people to work towards their vision and not hire enthusiastic but stupid people to attempt the same. If they do, they risk looking inept themselves. You don't get skilled federal workers in a blue portion of the country to work for you by being a fucking Nazi. We're cranky and will make your life hell if you behave like that. I'm not talking about some sort of organized resistance movement because we feel like it. That's wrong. But just imagine hundreds of thousands pissed off at you. If that's the Deep State at work, then we aspire to be the quality of swampy Deep State your racist uncle thinks we are. If implementing dictatorship was that easy, Trump would have taken out every agency his last term and fired us all. I am actually extremely proud of the resiliency and checks and balances that the American federal government has in place to prevent most of the shit he says he can achieve by waving a magic executive wand. (He's done this once. He knows he can't. He just lets the majority of the population believe he can.) Us feds will make it, as we always have.

And we will live up to our oath to serve the Constitution, not a president. We serve every official of every party faithfully within the bounds of legalities and our oath. Working for administrations you may not like it's just a part of the job that we all recognize. Public servants at the federal level generally hold that extremely close to their heart. The ones that don't (I'm talking to YOU, WaPo "informants!") put us to shame. We're just tired, man. I can't believe it has already been four years since the last round. There's going to be some waves, no doubt, and some people definitely are going to be hurt at upper levels. But grab a Twisted Tea and buckle up. We'll at least pretend it's meant to be a roller coaster and ride it. TL;Dr Democracy is not going to die. But a drink and "thanks" would go a long way.

EDIT: Woah! I woke up this morning and am surprised by how much traction this got. I'm sad that this was the most positive thing some people had read. I'm sorry it's been that bad. I am not predicting outcomes. I have no idea how it's going to go. It's going to be bloody. But the hope I am trying to get across is that we are a resilient people and a group of (generally) good people. It will be okay, okay? The people that really make or break your daily life are those around you and your local government. Hold those around you close to your heart and always be kind. Everybody go outside, take a deep breath, eat something you love, and hug your grandma (even if she voted differently). The world is still turning and the sky is still blue. Being surrounded by spiraling anger on the internet only makes us the losers, not those we disagree with. The only thing we can do right now is wait. We have a few months to cool off! Enjoy your holidays!

EDIT 2: I think everybody has forgotten about this, but go check out the memorandum signed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff at the end of Trump's first term after January 6. The feds basically said "fuck that" when people were scared that the government was going to turn the military on them to help Trump in some way. While it was specifically addressed to our armed forces members, it was spread throughout the DOD and beyond. Partially as a result of federal workers' fear (not actually ordered, to be crystal clear) that they would be asked to turn on citizens. This sentiment was echoed across the entire government via internal emails (from Trump appointees!) as well to the civilian workforce. That's one of my proudest moments as an American and why I know we will get through it.

Emphasis mine. Link to original Reddit Post. Link to an article about the aforementioned memorandum signed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

Don't give up. We will get through this.

[genderqueerdykes]

i was reading the recipe suggestions on some of the cans of mackerel i have in my cupboard, and I've noticed that on all of the recipe suggestions for pasta, seafood, anything really say "try this for a low-calorie, low carb, low fat, low sugar dinner". you. need those things when it comes to be mealtime. calories are a measure of how much "energy" you can burn, not how much weight you will gain from eating the food. carbohydrates get broken down into starches, sugars, and fibers, which are all necessary for you to function.

your brain & body operate primarily off of fats, sugars, and proteins, but i've noticed that protein is the only thing we push as absolutely necessary, which just isn't true. whenever you idle and not in motion, your body has nothing to do with the extra protein you're bringing in. it will be stored as extra fat if you do not give that protein a reason to build muscle tissue instead.

your brain consumes 20% or more of the sugar you take into your body- our brains NEED glucose, you literally need sugar to think. if you feel depressed and like you're sluggish reacting to things, thinking, remembering things, and other mental processes, if you are the kind of person who refuses to eat any sugar at all due to wanting to be skinny, you are doing your brain a huge disservice:

i can't stand the hatred towards dietary fats, because it's causing so many people to be outright miserable or even sick. you need fats to function. they are an excellent source of energy and are literally required for you to be able to move, think, and combat disease. they are not this icky thing that you need to avoid at all costs. fats are extremely important for brain development, as well as brain function, and even immune system function:

also for many people, 2,000 calories or less per day is nowhere near enough. your brain actively consumes calories, fats and sugars while you are awake, no matter what you are doing:

i sincerely refuse to believe that if JUST YOUR BRAIN ALONE consumes somewhere in the ballpark of 400-500 calories just for being awake and active that we can only survive off of 2,000 calories a day. capitalism, diet culture and fat shaming forcing us to starve ourselves of vital nutrients so we are weak and too tired to fight back against the bullshit we face every day. food is important.

food isn't just to satiate the feeling of an empty stomach. it is the ONLY way you get vital fuel in order to keep moving, living, thinking, and breathing. vitamins and minerals are NOT the only vital aspects of food. you're not meant to restrict how many nutrients you get at FUCKING MEAL TIMES. YOU NEED FUEL. PLEASE FUEL YOUR BODY AND BRAIN. A CONVENTIONALLY ATTRACTIVE BODY ISN'T WORTH SUFFERING AND LIVING YOUR WORST LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[mewtwoandme]

I was hoping this would all blow over, but since it's continuing to happen, now with people attacking other artists of the commewnity. I'm putting out my two fucking cents! Cause this whole art/character theft and pointing fingers, who stole what from who bullshit it driving me up the fucking wall!!

Long story short, it started with me and one other blog whose name I won't mention publicly. Despite the horrible light they tried to paint me in, I don't want anyone going to this person and ganging up on them. This person had some serious bitterness towards more "popular" artists and claimed that I've made characters similar to theirs and once used a pose they apparently used before (which was a very common pose, considering it was a reference from the game version of mega Y). Since then, they had desperately tried to conjure up evidence, narrowing down to the most miniscule detail how I've been stealing from them when I hadn't even known their blog existed until I was forcefully thrown into that unnecessary drama with the unhinged call-out posts they've made. With this being said, I'd like to point out that they never came to me or addressed this concern with me in the first place. They had every opportunity to privately DM me if they had suspected I was "stealing," but no, simply because they already made up their mind that I was a thief, that was a good enough reason to lack common fucking sense and decency, making what should have been a private issue public, going on to villainize and dehumanize me. And apparently, it hasn't stopped with me either, cause recently I've been seeing other artists in the community having to deal with this where people are being white knights on high horses, pointing fingers on how one artist's mewtwo looks "the same" if not "totally identical" as another artist's mewtwo. I refuse to believe it's a coincidence. But what makes me disgusted is that since TC's post, apparently it's had the opposite effect on some people and they're hopping on this blame bandwagon like it's some damn media trend!!!

This is NOT okay! Nothing about this kind of behavior is funny! It's upsetting to all of us. We dont need you causing problems where there isn't any, thinking you're doing us a favor! The majority of us are adults for gods sake! We are old enough where we don't need other people coming to us being tattle tails saying this person did this and that. That's what little children do! If you suspect any form of theft, I think I speak for ALL creators in this commewnity that we'd prefer you DM us privately saying something like "Hey, I think this person is copying you, might wanna look into it." And if possible, provide a link to the art in question, for which we would kindly thank you for making us aware and we'll handle it ourselves from there. Just a brief, yet SIMPLE interaction...that's all we ask!!! Don't even come at me with "Well, it's scary attempting to talk to an artist that's well known." Or dare I say ~pOpUlAr~ If you claim that taking the first step to send me a quick DM makes you nervous, yet you have no problem making public call outs in posts or asks, belittling and degrading what could actually be innocent artists doing nothing wrong, literally leaving yourself open to all kinds of comments and opinions from all kinds of people....I'm sorry but your anxiety isn't as bad as you say it is then, if being rude and ignorant in a public post/ask is easier for you. If you come to us, shaming someone else who 9/10 probably isn't doing anything wrong, thinking you'll be in our good graces for doing so, sorry, you're not going to be told, "Good job!" with a pat on the back and given a lollipop! You're just being an asshole.

Quick reality check for everyone who's made it this far before I end this train wreck of a rant:

People can have similar ideas that coincide with one another! There's only so much you can do when a whole community is focused around drawing the same character! We mainly draw mewtwos and mews, you're bound to find a plethora of similar colors, patterns, and designs because of it! Creativity only goes so far when trying to stay true to a character and not stray too far. It's not a crime to take inspiration from other artists' characters, we actually encourage this! It makes us feel good that you liked something we've done and you want to incorporate it into your own designs! It makes us happy that we inspired you! The line is crossed when someone does a literal copy/paste of a character down to the exact detail, and they call it their own original creation. That my friends is what stealing actually is!

[onlyangel4]

put some clothes on. LS2. SMAU.

logan sargeant x actress!reader

in which logan is dating an actress who is not afraid to do sex scenes and play risque controversial characters so when they hard launchf1 fandom decides that she is not wag material. but logan and reader do not give a fuck.

faceclaim- sydney sweeney

warnings: 18+ sexual content, cursing, slut shaming

author's note: please do keep on sending requests, the more detailed the better! i write written fic and smaus for most of the grid and a handful of associated people.

y/ninsta

liked by zendaya, tomholland, hunterschafer and 1,230,101 others

y/ninsta: save a horse ride a cowboy

view all 13,291 comments

zendaya: you are glowing my love

y/ninsta: that means a lot coming from you, queen of the glow

y/nfan: miss girl you can not just soft launch and leave us like this i stg

user3: guys we have lost her. to a man.

user4: oh y/n i thought what we had was special

logansargeant

liked by alexalbon, danielricciardo, landonorris and 157,601 others

logansargeant: life lately

view all 8,301 comments

f1fan: omg omg logan is soft launching

user6: i'm surprised he even knows what a soft launch is

danielricciardo: i have known who your girl is for like six months and i am still fucking shocked

user8: six months! they have been together that long and we had no idea?

user7: daniel spill who tf is she

alexalbon: finally soft launching the girl that keeps on stealing lily from me

f1wags

liked by f1fan, user9, user10 and 56,798 others

f1wags: admin can not believe that they are typing this right now but logan sargeant just hard launched his relationship with y/n y/ln by attending the season two premiere of euphoria. y/ln plays cassie in the popular show and has won awards for her work but she is also known to play out there characters and do intimate scenes in film. something pretty much unheard of for a wag. what are your thoughts on this couple.

view all 908 comments

user9: my two worlds are colliding i adore y/n and i hate the current discourse around her relationship with logan. yes she plays these characters and films these scenes but it is all for entertainment. she is hollywood's it girl at the moment for a damn good reason.

user10: i can't believe i have seen logan sargeants girlfriend's tits that is mental

user6: that just isn't wag behaviour

user11: not logan dating hollywood's whore

f1fan: she will never be a worthy wag her behaviour is just inappropriate

y/ninsta

liked by logansargeant, danielricciardo, alexademie and 1,923,731 others

y/ninsta: my baby euphoria season two is out now ! i had the best time filming this with my favourite people i hope you all love it as much as i do.

view all 21,438 comments

logansargeant: so proud of you my love

user12: proud of your girlfriend for having sex on tv? you do you boo

danielricciardo: logan introduced me to euphoria and i am fucking addicted

user13: how can you support this relationship

user14: i am both a f1 and y/n fan and i am fucking disgusted by the comments over the post. this is a woman celebrating the release of something that she had worked so hard on and you are all criticing her just because you think you know what is right for her boyfriend. fucking childish.

liked by y/ninsta and logansargeant

logansargeant posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: so proud of my girl

user15 replied to your story: tell your girl to put her tits away

logansargeant blocked user15

y/ninsta

liked by logansargeant, zendaya, lilymhe and 2,129,091 others

y/ninsta: somebody pinch me ! i collaborated with frankie's bikinis to bring you a line of seven bikinis. the ones featured in these pictures are my three favourites but i wholeheartedly believe that there is a style for everyone in the line. drops on the 1st of may !

view all 21,210 comments

lilymhe: my jaw just dropped you are so hot

alexalbon: can confirm she has not stopped looking at these pictures since you posted them

logansargeant: that's my girl

y/ninsta: say it louder for the people in the back

logansargeant: THAT'S MY GIRL

user17: how can you hate this couple they are the cutest

user18: put some clothes on

user19: put some clothes on

user20: put some clothes on

logansargeant

liked by y/ninsta, danielricciardo, zendaya and 250,982 others

tagged: y/ninsta

logansargeant: please stop telling my girlfriend to put some clothes on it is detrimental to my mental health

view all 9,281 comments

y/insta: they could never make me

logansargeant: exactly what i want to hear babygirl

user20: babygirl! i'm going to go lay in traffic

alexalbon: pr is going to kill you mate

logansargeant: worth it

user21: everyone say sorry mister sargeant it will not happen again

user22: sorry mister sargeant it will not happen again

user23: sorry mister sargeant it will not happen again

user24: sorry mister sargeant it will not happen again

[squiddy-god]

dorm leaders and a chubby s/o

As a chubby guy my self I absolutely love Chubby readers, this was written in the early days when I wasn't writing all my readers implied to be chubby- dark times I know- since I am almost done with restoration ⚠︎REQUEST ARE OPEN⚠︎ please send in request, my navigation post has links to anything you would need! And if you don't wanna request you can always just chat! Anon is always open

CW : fluff, chubby readers supremacy

Riddle 

Riddle lives you no matter what! 

You being chubby does not affect him at all, besides your super soft and good for cuddles

Will not tolerate slander on your name weather from yourself or others 

Gets really angry when people comment rude things about you 

Isn't one for PDA but he'll hold your hand, especially when your insecure 

Lowkey loves your hugs sm because gosh your just so amazing 

You make him so red in the face aksbsosndhskebje like how can you be so cute 

You can always tell who was talking smack because they will have riddles collar thing and will avoid your gaze 

And the screaming from riddle 

Very soft with you 

Azul 

He knows exactly how you feel when you feel insecure

Azul is very understanding because he also used to be chubby

Loves your hugs so much because your warm and soft ✨ 

If you let him lay his head on your thighs he would probably die on the spot 

Seriously he loves to rest his head on your nice plush thighs 

Talk shit get hit, or in this case, hunted for sport by two very tall eel Bois

Actually gets angry when people mermer about you because oof that shit hits close to home

Really good at comforting you because he says all the things he wishes he was told

Always compliments you ❤

Leona 

Literally not a fuck in sight 👀 he gives no shits

You are good for naps tho

Loves to lay on your tummy and sleep for hours 

Thinks your such a cute little herbivore

Ur a snack ❤

When your down and sad he'll legit just pull you into his lap and cuddle tf out of you ✨ 

Has heard people talk smack about your weight and it always irks him 

Probably gave someone a black eye about it

Not the best at comforting you but he'll tell you that those people are just assholes and not worth your time 

Kalim 

Aksnakamdbsks 𝕐𝔼𝕊 𝕐𝔼𝕊 𝕐𝔼𝕊

Loves you so much!! Everything, from your cute cheeks to your soft hugs and adorable tummy

Am I biased? Extremely. Does that change the fact that I think kalim would ADORE a chubby s/O?? Not at all

Always wants hugs from you because your soft and warm and make his heart go brrrrrrr

Always gives you the most heartfelt compliments 

If your insecure about the close you were then he'll let you know just how much he loves anything you put on 

Gets legitimately confused and mad when someone talks bad about you and has no shame in asking what there problem is

Really good at comforting you and will cuddle you while calling you cute pet names 🥺

Vil

😤👏body👏positive 👏vil 👏

Vil firmly believes that just because your chubby doesn't mean that your not beautiful and adorable 

👏all bodys are gorgeous 👏 

Always seems to pick clothes that look fabulous on you and also make you feel comfortable

Won't admit it out loud but he loves your plump cheeks and tummy 

Pitches your cheeks Affectionately 

Someone : *talks shit about you* 

Vil : rook hold my teira 

Literally has 0 patience for someone slandering your name and putting you down 

Will fight 

Probably likes to trace any stretch marks you may have and tell you your beautiful/handsome/gorgeous

Also won't let you put yourself down 

Idia

Your so cute he couldn't even look at you without blushing, even from behind his tablet, seeing your chubby cheeks in HD was a 1 hit k.o 

Once your together he's pretty comfy around you (and probably only you lmao) and oh boy does he want ✨cuddles ✨

Your like perfect for cuddles, your soft, warm, plush, adorable, don't fight him on this you can't change his stubborn mind, and yes he has a PowerPoint on why he's right

You'll be cuddling and suddenly he'll get the wildest, toothy grin and squish your tummy or pitch your cheeks 

Immediately blushes and shys away 

Sometimes he'll just rant/ramble about how cute you are as if he's talking about one of his hobbies (a.k.a talking at light speed and info dumping for hours) 

Someone : *talks shit about you* 

Idia : *about to roast them both figuratively and literally* 

Ortho : * pulls out magic laser* 

Idia knows what it's like to be bullied and it makes him angry to see people treat you like that 

Get you your favorite snacks and has you sit in his lap and game with him to comfort you (and lets u win Mario kart) 

Malleus 

Oh absolutely

Something about you, his chubby little human, makes his heart go brrrrr

He's so curious and he likes to poke and squish your tummy and thighs (lovingly) 

Takes any and all opportunities to lay his head on your lap 

Behind closed doors he's a cuddle feind 

Stairs at you lovingly from across the room 

Gives you lots of small complements because they just came to him and he's like "haha gotta tell y/n that! " 

I'd recommend not talking shit about you because malleus is not having ✨any of it✨ 

Legit gets so angry when people badmouth you because he just doesn't understand why they would 

But they won't be talking for long that's for sure

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚

[captainjonnitkessler]

While unsurprising, the rhetoric being spewed by Louisiana's lawmakers is fucking terrifying to me.

I feel so lucky that I was raised by a bunch of atheist because honestly I managed to go the majority of my childhood happy, without being shamed or acquiring a persecution complex...but now looking out at the current climate we live in...damn, they really hate us, don't they? I mean "godless" is one of the main insults getting thrown around on most campaign trails, which isn't new it just hurts.

I feel like I am a bad person because I only just found out about what's going on in Louisiana.

Sorry, just screaming into the void a bit. I hope you have a good day

For anyone who's not aware, Louisiana just passed a law requiring every single public classroom in the state, from kindergarten to college, to display the Ten Commandments.

Unfortunately, this is just the latest in the rapidly-escalating war between Christofascists and secularism. Multiple states have proposed this law, Louisiana is just the first to actually pass it. Oklahoma's Department of Education is claiming that they're going to force teachers to start teaching from the Bible. Seven states have passed laws requiring schools to display "In God We Trust" signs.

Here's the thing I think a lot of people on this site are too young to remember or weren't involved enough in religious politics to notice, and the reason the "edgy atheist who just hates religion" stereotype has gained so much traction on here: The New Atheist movement was very much a response to constant barrages of shit like this. Getting America to be even as secular as it is has been a constant struggle. Conservatives have been openly blaming atheists for school shootings, mass murders, and serial killers for decades. People who stand up and try to get religion taken out of schools and government immediately become targets for massive hate and harassment campaigns. People - conservatives and liberals alike - react with hatred and anger whenever someone stands up to get religion out of places where it doesn't belong. I think the past fifteen years or so have gotten a lot of people believing that separation of church and state is an obviously "safe" position that almost everyone is in favor of, but it very much is not and never has been.

I believe that conservatives are going to try to use the current Supreme Court to essentially abolish the separation of church and state, largely because many of them are openly stating their intent to do so. Louisiana is already being sued about this - if it makes its way to the Supreme Court, I think there's a decent chance of the current court ruling in favor of Louisiana, which is going to unleash the floodgates of Christian propaganda in public schools. It is frankly a dire situation, so I'm sorry if you were here looking for reassurance lol.

As always, the best action I can recommend is to get involved. You're definitely not a bad person for not knowing about this! But if you want to stay on top of religious news, I recommend the Friendly Atheist blog. The Freedom From Religion Foundation fights to get laws like this taken down. You can check your local city for secular humanist meetups. You don't want to burn out or enter a doom spiral by only ever dwelling on bad news, but I find that having people to talk to or action you can take is a good way to ward off despair.

And please, please, vote. Vote in federal and state elections, vote in your local city council elections, vote in your school board elections. A LOT of this is happening at local levels, and being involved in your local politics is possibly the most effective thing you can do!

[jeannyjaykaydeh]

Merry Sinsmas

Alastor x Reader

Just a little thought I'd like to share with you because I’m in the Christmas mood.

I hope you enjoy reading it and if you celebrate Christmas: I wish you a Merry Christmas. And if you don't: I hope you have a great few days anyway. :)

And to all of you: Merry Sinsmas. :D

Warning: I hope you don't mind that this short story briefly mentions that you are from Germany. If you can't identify with this, just see this sentence as a joke to wriggle out of a situation.

—————————————————————————

You're standing in the hotel lobby with a clipboard in your hand, working through a to-do list. You are in the middle of your Christmas preparations. Charlie and Vaggie are busy decorating the big tree in the centre of the lobby next to the stairs, Niffty is cleaning and judging by her crazy laugh, she's in a very Christmassy mood.

Lucifer is tending to the fairy lights, Husk is making punch for everyone and Angel and Cherri Bomb are getting the sound system ready.

As you stare at your clipboard, thinking about what you could do next, you notice out of the corner of your eye a shadow rise from the floor and stand next to you.

You don't even have to lift your eyes to realise that it's Alastor, standing so close to you that his large body is pressed against you.

You hear a snap of fingers, but you skilfully ignore it.

You're too busy dealing with the fact that the radio demon is invading your comfort zone - as he so often does.

It doesn't take long before he clears his throat meaningfully, inviting you to give him your attention.

So you raise your eyes and suppress your annoyed expression as best you can.

You look at him expectantly. What does he want?

He looks down at you with a mischievous smile. Then he takes a quick look at the ceiling before his eyes wander back to you.

You look up and see a sprig of mistletoe hanging directly above you, obviously conjured up by him.

You sigh slightly.

So he wants to be kissed.

Alastor is really trying everything he can to get to you. You realise that he's been trying to make advances to you for months and win your heart with small - and also very large - gestures.

What you keep to yourself the whole time: He won your heart a long time ago. But you don't want to admit it.

Yes, you fancy Alastor - oh, you're so in love with him!

But your fear of commitment and the fact that he's one of the most dangerous demons here in hell stop you from getting involved with him.

Much to the displeasure of your friends, because the tension between Alastor and you has left its mark on them too and now they really want to see you two as a couple.

"Hahaaaa, there's a little green branch hanging right above us. What funny coincidences there are, aren't there, my dear?" he says euphorically in his radio filter voice.

"Real coincidences, yes," you reply sarcastically and leave it at that. At least that's what you try to do, but there's no way Alastor will let you get away with it.

He steps closer to you - it's hard to believe that's still possible - leans forward slightly and says: "You know I'm a man of tradition. In my day, we followed every custom without even batting an eyelid. It would be a shame for me and my inner well-being if you didn't appreciate my traditions, sweetheart."

You give him a wry, cheeky grin. Then you turn away from him and say: "Well, it's just a shame that I'm from Germany and this mistletoe tradition isn't practised there."

You move away from him and leave him standing there in his indignant static noise.

"OH NO, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!" Angel suddenly shouts across the lobby. He jumps up from his chair and stomps angrily towards you, grabs you by the shoulders, spins you around and pushes you back on your heels under the mistletoe, where he sets you down right in front of the radio demon.

He grumbles: "We're not in fucking Germany here, we're in hell! And here ya don't just kiss under the mistletoe, here ya even fuck when ye're standin' under it! So do yerself and us a favour and respect our traditions! Ya kiss that creepy man now, understand?"

[greenandsorrow]

the price for misbehaving (ii)

post rut Alastor x gn!reader

WARNINGS; the aftermath of a very horny fic, mentions of deer mating season, friends to lovers, deer/doe!demon!reader, reader with self worth doubts, a sprinkle of angst, curly-haired!Alastor, undertones of Alastor being a momma's boy, mentions of his past, making out, fluff (literally), there's plot

Dividers by; @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune

Please do not repost or directly copy my work and don't use it on AI platforms either ❤️

From a smutty oneshot to a multi chap fic. Nothing can compare to the chunkiness of the 1st chapter, but I'm satisfied with this one as well. Enjoy you lovely beings and thanks for being patient with me!!! The art above is by @kalico-of-doom.

~masterpost~

The only time Alastor isn't smiling is when he's sleeping, you have come to realize. You can't help but notice how tired he looks as you lay motionless beside him. You start petting his ears and he groans softly, nuzzling deeper into your touch without even bothering to open his eyes. A small smile forms on his mouth, a real one. Is this really the same man that has been fucking you until your legs stop working?

In the morning you wake up in his bed, a daily occurrence at this point. However, you weren't expecting him to be staring deeply into your contemned soul.

"A- Al?"

Your voice is hoarse from sleep. You scratch your deer ears, flop on your back and stretch. Alastor keeps staring, studying you and every micro expression you make.

You can feel fear creeping into your gut. Is this the end? Is the rutting season gone? Does he want to kill you and eat you now? Will he kick you out? One thing is certain.

He doesn't need you anymore.

After all, you were just a friend helping him go through a difficult time. Nothing more. Still, you would be lying to yourself if you said that you haven't caught any feelings. From his forceful claiming -that hid a great deal of desperation- to his tender love making last night, Alastor has left more than just his mark on you. One could say that he owns you in the most primal and raw of ways, but if he chooses to deny that... -that's all it takes really- then you were nothing but a fucktoy.

"Um... I- I'm gonna take a shower"

Is that you doing the walk of shame? Alastor is a gentleman, why isn't he saying anything?! Not a single thing that could make you feel less terrible about the whole situation!

Now that his hormones have died down and you are far from aroused as well, getting out of bed and standing completely naked in front of him... It makes you feel exposed, vulnerable, small and inferior...

This new emotion, the deep embarrassment that has your face feeling hot and your stomach churning with anxiety makes you dress up and leave "your friend's" room in the speed of light.

You lock yourself in your much smaller room, preparing a bubble bath for your spent and tired body. You smile to yourself a little, remembering how Charlie had made sure you'd have your own bathtub so that you can read your books while soaking in the warm water.

Sinking in the now filled tub, having the water envelope your frame, cleanse your energy and take his scent off of you feels nice. You let your eyes droop until they close lazily, you allow your shoulders to relax, your jaw to unclench.

A long and audible sigh.

Your hands around your frame.

You start crying.

If another deer demon resided in the hotel, he might as well had spent his breeding season with them. You weren't special. The mere thought of such a thing is killing you. You were just another victim of the radio demon's manipulation.

Still, it's your fault as well. For believing this was more than what it appeared to be? Maybe. You are getting more and more confused by the minute.

But oh... the way he had been repeating your name like a prayer... It must mean something to him -you being there for him. You didn't even judge the way he had spilled tears of sexual frustration when handjobs weren't enough to relieve the ache in his loins.

Who else has seen Alastor Hartfelt of Pride under this light? No one. You are the only exception. He wouldn't have allowed you to get so close to him if he didn't trust you... Right?

As your thoughts keep overlapping and fighting with each other and you continue to cry softly, you peak up the all too familiar sound of static.

Another unfair thing! He can melt into shadow and go anywhere he pleases... The sound intensifies as he approaches... you? Is he really thinking of invading your space like that? You can't even cry and be miserable in peace! Not like you're in Hell.

"Bonjou! Konmen s'apé kouri? Huh?"

Not only are you not in the mood to ask him to translate what he just said, but Alastor literally spawned in your bathroom and he's now acting like this is an okay thing to do. The way he's readjusting his lapels and smiling smugly like he wasn't a grunting mess last night infuriates you even further.

"Can you please get the fuck out of here?"

"Mh?" he just stands there in his usual apathy. He's even holding his cane.

"Can you at least stop smiling for a second?"

"Oh ho! I'm afraid I can't do that my deer!"

"But you can definitely get your ass out of my room! I-"

The sound of your voice carries to your ears like a whining child. There's a lump in your throat that you're beginning to fear you won't be able to keep down for much longer. If your face and hair weren't already wet from the bath, then it would be crystal clear that you were weeping like an idiot before he saw himself in.

Alastor is quick to gauge your body language. You're hugging your knees -shielding your naked body from him. Sometimes you swear he can tell your emotional state by sniffing the air around you. It's like your scent is enough for him to piece together the puzzle that you are.

The radio demon scranches his nose.

"What's there to be so sad over y/n? Today is a beautiful day!"

Is he playing stupid?! Because if he's doing this on purpose... Well, there's not much you can do now that he doesn't need you anymore.

Your lower lip trembles at this terrible thought and the lump in your throat escapes your notice, resulting in a broken and weak sob to come out of you.

Tilting his head to the side way more than necessary and squinting his eyes, Alastor asks "Are you pregnant?"

You freeze and widen your eyes. "I- Is that even... even fuckin' possible in the afterlife?"

The fucker chuckles!

"Oh, I don't think so, at least not for lowly demons such as yourself!" The worst part is that he wasn't trying to insult you by saying that, but rather calm you down.

"Go to Hell."

"Ironic."

You can't help it now. You break down in tears. Your chest feels tight as the sobs ripple through your body and make your frame retreat to itself. In addition to your general misery, the water has gone cold, causing you to shiver.

The overlord places his cane against the tiles of the bathroom wall and crouches down so he is level with you. He won't let it show just yet, but Alastor is very worried. There's guilt eating him from the inside.

While he was in musth, in breeding mode -or in whatever you wanna call it-, he wasn't fully aware of his actions. Alastor's mind was blurred from the desire to mate and basically reproduce. Now that he's back to his senses, he has come to the unpleasant realisation that he might have caused you harm in the process of letting out his passion.

And this simply won't do! This deer demon has done cruel and vile things he doesn't even feel particularly bad about... but hurting you... He would never be able to forgive himself.

You were there for him and showed him a great deal of love and understanding.

So, that's the reason you left so hurriedly from his quarters... He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. HE DID THIS TO YOU.

Alastor's permanent grin fades just slightly. It is replaced by concern, evident in the way he looks at your trembling body in the water. He reaches out to gently touch your skin, checking for any signs of pain or discomfort. Your friend's voice softens, it's now filled with genuine worry and regret.

"I'm so sorry darling... I didn't know I caused you... pain."

It's true that you have many bruises and hickeys decorating various places on your body, but that's not the reason behind your breakdown.

"I- It's not th-" you just look down. You can't even explain yourself.

The radio demon's worry only deepens after your vague response and he quickly takes action to be by your side, pulling you out of the bathtub and into a tight hug. Alastor whispers reassurances in your ear, his voice filled with remorse.

"I'm so sorry... We should have stopped when it got too much."

No one has heard Alastor apologize before -not even God, for all that's worth.

His expression softens even further as he sees your tears that just keep coming. He carefully brushes them away, worry etched into every line of his handsome face.

"I didn't mean to make you cry. You must know that."

"I'm not in pain... Just sad."

You do look rather devastated.

Alastor is almost frozen in place from all the guilt since he can now see the bruises forming on your skin. The water camouflaged them, but now they are exposed for him to observe and take in.

He swallows hard, his voice shaking with emotion like never before. "Y/n... I didn't mean to do that. I didn't. None of it."

"None of it?"

Your voice is muffled due to how you have hid your face in his chest. At least he's warm.

"My intention wasn't to cause you injury or physical pain."

You look up at him, finally making eye contact. He's looking at you as well, eyes shining with regret, guilt and what appears to be shame.

What really surprises you, though, is the pleading tone of his voice. It's one thing to be vulnerable because he's hungry for sexual contact and another because he genuinely cares for you.

"Can you ever forgive me for this? I promise, it was never my true intention. I just... I got carried away. And now... It's not an excuse..."

"You really meant none of it to happen between us?"

"Now, now, little deer! Someone's getting ahead of themselves! That's not what I implied at all."

You sigh and settle in his lap.

"Oh mon cher, did you really think I regret our... stimulating times?"

Alastor's long arms press you against him, his clothes absorbing the water on your still bare skin. He then picks you up bridal style and carries you to your bed. It's not king sized like his, but he doesn't seem to care for such details right now.

"Now... Let me see you."

"I said I'm fine!"

"The artist will be the evaluator of his work."

"No Al! Artists get critics to evaluate their work."

"Hmmm, did you say something, dear? Cause I didn't hear you!"

It's a common tactic of his to hide his real feelings by being chatty and pleasant. You of course know that, but in your current state, it's very validating to have him take care of you.

So he did care. And he still does after having stopped necessarily needing you.

Alastor isn't joking around. He's searching your body, subconsciously writing down every scratch, every bruise and hickey, every bite mark.

Ears alert on top of his head, eyes wide open. He can even make out the shape of his fingertips on your hips... He turns you on your stomach only to discover his whole palms are imprinted on your buttocks. Meanwhile, you just allow him to inspect your body for as long as he wishes. All the crying has left you drained but also tranquil and calm.

"I'm fine Al. Really."

"Shhh, I'm not done evaluating the damage."

"It's just a bite or two."

"I drew so much blood..."

"Yes and?"

He just keeps observing, keeps rolling you this way and that. The scratches and the bruises are the most triggering to him. They remind Alastor of unhappy memories -back when he still hadn't taken good care of his father.

As long as he hasn't permanently marked you, it should be fine.

"I'll ask Niffty for some ice."

"N- no... Can we just... sit here? Like... cuddle?"

"You were my solace."

"What-"

He gently presses a finger on your lips to shush you.

"Thank you."

"You don't have to say that. It's not like I helped you with a flat tire or something."

"I don't do cuddling."

"Nor touching for that matter. But... It's not that bad, huh? Just let me put something on first."

You stand up and go to your closet to pick something to put on. Your hair is still wet and your legs still feel sore from your intense moments -but it was a big relief to know he still wants you in his life now the rut has ended.

Alastor's behaviour makes you wonder. He's contradictory. From fucking your throat in his radio station, to bending you over various objects in the hotel, taking you in missionary, against walls, windows and doors, he still seems pretty reluctant to give himself to intimacy. Unlike those times, his mind is now clear -no overwhelming heat involved. Intimacy equals vulnerability ...and to him vulnerability equals pain. The inevitable way in which things had worked out in his life.

"But we did sleep together until yesterday."

The radio demon cannot deny you. He's already sat at the edge of your bed, taking off his coat, shoes and anything else that could make the experience any less enjoyable.

"I wish I could say you'll take this to your grave."

You grin brightly and chuckle at his silly, little remark. Your confidence has been restored -to an extent- after he made it clear that he does concern himself with your wellbeing.

"But why don't you like being touched? Physical contact is a form of affection."

"Or a form of punishment, of intimidation, domination and... many other vile things, my dear deer..." His voice is too low for your liking as he says that.

You don't know what burdens Alastor's shoulders, but it can't be good -and I'm not even referring to his own cruelty and the pain he has inflicted on others. Maybe his opinion on physical contact is connected to the endless scars on his body.

"Oh well whatevs Al. I just want my cuddles."

The way his ears are pulled back and he looks at you almost like he's a shy and innocent boy makes your heart bit faster. At least there's no velvet rubbing off his antlers this time.

Alastor is extremely gentle and cautious in the way he handles you this time. He lays down on his back and you use his chest as a pillow.

It's a cozy place.

His chest. He has some fluff there, just like Angel, but unlike the former, he hides it under layers of clothing and keeps it unstyled. Still, it's undoubtedly soft and fuzzy and you like to sink your hand in it or swirl the soft fur around your fingertips. The radio demon isn't complaining -as one would expect. It's soothing to have someone touch his body in a non-hostile manner. It's refreshing to have someone appreciate his body as it is.

Would you also appreciate it if you saw him as he once was?

His father hadn't. He could handle the child of a mixed marriage, but Alastor wasn't just mixed, but also looked the part -and according to the racist beliefs of his father in the 1900's, that was a bad thing.

As you're happily nuzzled against his long and elegant neck, your friend's mind wanders. You lived during the 90's. What would it have been like if he had also lived during that period? Everything would have been different. The town he grew up in, his relationship with his parents, his career as a radio host -and a serial killer.

"Did you know that my hair is naturally curly?"

Your ears perk up at that and Alastor gently takes hold of them and pulls at them from the root, just slightly.

"That feels nice..."

"Oh I know."

"What were you saying?"

"Oh yes, my hair's curly! Since I was nothing but a tiny, adorable, baby boy! ...my mother... she..."

His hand lets go of your ears and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he takes a deep breath and lets it out in a long sigh.

There's a melancholy about him now and you feel the need to comfort him. He's opening up to you by being genuine and vulnerable. Alastor is sharing a part of who he used to be and the least you can do is listen. You resume your activities on his fluff, almost massaging the area. He seems to like it, for a moment closing his eyes and letting a sound like purring.

"Can you keep this up?"

"Sure Al."

"Merci. What was I saying...? Oh yes, of course... Mama and my curly mop."

The radio effect of his voice and his arms around you make you feel like you're a kid being told a bedtime story.

It's a good thing the other residents have gotten used to you and Alastor disappearing together for long periods of time. His soft chest fluff under the pads of your fingers only intensifies the feeling of being told a story while tucked in bed, warm and safe from the outside world.

"It's truly amazing how much power is given to hair in certain cultures. In my culture, dear y/n, hair texture served as an indicator of social status. My family -a wedding between a white man and a creole woman of colour... Oh ho dear! It was something else back then...-

As a kid, I was always the one teased for having “weird hair”, as if it didn’t match my other facial features. When school began, my sweet mama, she... she would put my hair in locs to protect the curls. Apparently, they didn't like that at school! So my father... he -radio static intensifies- he made my mother shave it. He claimed that if my mother and I wore our hair differently, then no one would take us seriously."

You take a moment to digest this new piece information. It's true that locs enclose the natural hair and help it stay intact. It's also true that Alastor grew up in a time when it was very difficult to be of a cultural background which was different to the majority's. You choose to not comment on anything -that's not your job.

You swirl some more of his fluff around your fingertips before moving your hand to his hair.

"Well, it's not curly in the afterlife."

You feel the vibration of his chuckle through your check that's resting on his chest.

"But it is!"

Alastor lets out a satisfied sound as he presses you even tighter against him and begins rumbling about his hair care routine. He uses anti frizz oils, heat protection oils and then blow dries it. Truth is, that's just the steps you managed to actually register in your brain, because a sleepiness started overtaking you as you stayed laying in his embrace.

You're now fading between consciousness and unconsciousness. It almost feels like you're floating. Is this what Heaven is like?

Maybe it is. Maybe it is not. But you did manage to find your little oasis in Hell. And so did he.

Alastor looks down at your much smaller frame curled up against him. Your breath has slowed down and your eyes are closing. Why does it feel so warm and soft to have you close to him like this? He knows he shouldn't be letting his guard down, but he can't help it when it comes to you.

The radio demon is enamoured with you.

Wanting to make the experience even cozier and dreamier for his favourite sinner, Alastor starts singing quietly. His sense of rhythm is immaculate and his jazzy tunes make you fall sound asleep in no time whatsoever.

When you wake up an hour or so later, he still hasn't moved, but he acknowledges that you're awake with a small hum.

"Oh wakey wakey my darling y/n!" had been his usual response to you waking up while he was in the rut. However, right now he appears to be much more unguarded and raw than his usual persona -no need to put up a show. You haven't even woken up properly and you're already wondering about this new side of him.

"Al? Is everything okay?"

"Oh why, yes it is, but there's this thought occupying my brilliant mind..."

"Care to share it with my not so brilliant one?"

You expected him to laugh or even chuckle, but Alastor goes straight to the point.

"All this... making love and we still haven't kissed. Not really."

Kissing him would mean you actually view him romantically and whatever "friends with benefits" situation you have going on will be destroyed. That's not a bad thing though. Despite your initial fears of your fellow deer demon being too emotionally unavailable and only needing you to calm down the torment of his lust, a kiss wouldn't hurt. Kisses are good.

"We can change that y'know."

You make the first step by leaning towards him, basically giving him the green light that you're consenting to this. Alastor notices it and wastes no time, pressing his lips against yours while wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close into another embrace. He smiles widely as you kiss, his head tilting slightly as he runs his fingers through your hair. After a few seconds pass, he pulls his head back, slowly breaking the kiss as he looks into your eyes with a broad smile -that reaches his eyes.

"Aren't you delightful?!" and he dives back in.

Alastor's second kiss with you is firm and passionate -but not overly aggressive. His lips are warm and he seems to enjoy the intimacy of it -taking his time to explore your mouth. As the kiss progresses, he gradually increases the pressure of his lips on yours. His arms wrap around your waist and his tongue slowly wanders further into the welcoming heat of your mouth.

Once again -just like when it came to sex-, you have come to the conclusion that Alastor isn't that experienced, but some raw power -an instinct if you will- provides him with the ability to do all the right moves at the right time.

And then, you just break character. You burst into laughter. His large and pointed ears twitch at that change of pace.

"When I thought I was doing a good job~"

"Oh no, that's not it at all. I'm just happy." You're giddy and so is he.

Maybe not needing you but actually wanting you isn't the worst case scenario.

To be continued.

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[leeknow-thoughts]

𝅄  ׅ⊹ ۪ ꣑୧ dance of the sugarplum fairy

𝝑𝝔 l.mh x f!reader

𝝑𝝔 synopsis : Minho believes in fact over fiction. He's a scientist. It's practically in his blood. You're as much of a scientist as he is, hell, a better one than him at that. Yet, you still find wonder in the holidays. While you find wonder in presents and twinkling lights. Minho finds wonder in you. Could a confession gone wrong end up going right for him? Could you reciprocate his feelings that he's been pushing down for years and years?

𝝑𝝔 warnings : chemistry professor!minho, chemistry professor!reader, f!reader, mutual pining, christmas in a non-religious way, crying (in a sappy way), jisung! cameo, tooth rotting fluff, smut got mixed in with my fluff??, no clear dynamics, but minho is mommy (sorry guys act fucking surprised), mommy!kink, shower sex, p in v (unprotected, pls don't do this!!), pet names, pls lmk if I missed any warnings!!

𝝑𝝔 note from the author ! : Calliope once again indulges in soft!minho and doesn't apologize for it >_< I hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday season and that all who celebrate Christmas get exactly what they wanted!! :3

You're as reactive as Fluorine, and Minho wishes he didn't think of you chemically the way he does. He wishes he didn't immediately think of you when he thought of work and his experiments and the fucking teaching position he held. He wishes he could just think of you for you and he could go fuck off for all he cares - having a crush on his coworker.

And you're humming along to the song playing over the radio - some Clario song, he only knows who that is because you love her music. Honestly, he thinks you like music more than you like chemistry - so why did you choose to do this for a living?

You surely weren't a bad singer - Minho had heard you sing, it puts the harked herald angels to shame if he does say so - and you certainly were pretty enough to be famous.

Pretty was an understatement, you were the most devine creation to walk this earth. There's no way in his mind that he can conceptualize that you breathe the same oxygen as him - to him it was a privilege that he got to see you at all.

You were sought after, every fucking college in the nation wants you to work for them, yet you stay here. It wasn't like the place you work at is bad, it's MIT for Christ's sake, but Harvard has been asking for you for years.

He's almost offended by it, colleges treating you and all your brilliance like a tradeable Pokémon card.

Speaking of Pokémon, you're watching it on your phone as you finish up a lab report. How you can listen to music and watch a show and write a detailed report baffles Minho, but he doesn't question you because you're you, and he's the utter fool in love with you.

"You're spacing out Minho," your voice graces his ears, fuck, was he staring at you? "You look like you need a coffee, let's go get a cup, I'll pay."

You smile that sweet smile and talk in your sweet voice any longer and he's sure he's going to go insane. You're letting your hair down and it falls just right, framing your face perfectly. You had curled it that morning, and worn a perfume that smells like autumn.

He knows it's ridiculously foolish to consider something a chance that is nothing but stolen glances and blush stained cheeks and private thoughts. He can't help it.

"I think Jisung needs to start letting you get some sleep, you're zoning out so much," you hum with such concern, and he crumbles.

He feels almost dirty. Dirty for the thoughts he has of you. Dirty for the reason he isn't getting much sleep. Thinking about you in ways that would terrify a Catholic, or hell, even an atheist.

"'t's not Jisung," he slurs his words together.

They become a wet mix of vowels and articulations when he's talking to you. He hopes he doesn't sound this fucking dumb when he is teaching.

"Maybe you're sick," you tilt your head.

It's a habit you have, tilting your head when you make a statement. He finds it endearing. It was one of the first things about you that he perceived as such.

"'m fine, promise," he brushes off, "'nd I don' need any coffee."

"Well, you better wake up before the festival," you sigh, and he hates to think he let you down.

The festival, fuck, that is today. Each year the college throws a winter festival for the students, a lot of sororities and fraternities set up booths and the cafeteria gets turned upside down with decorations. The faculty's Secret Santa too, shit, he hasn't wrapped his gift. He really doesn't hate the festival or the idea of it, it keeps him young. He just doesn't know if he is gonna be able to stay around you any longer.

"Who did you get for Secret Santa?" you ask, taking a seat at the table, returning to your lab reports.

"Jus' Lix," he hates how drunk he sounds, "what about you? You always go above and beyond in the gift department."

He would never lie to you, you do go above and beyond with gifts. Each year, you go all out, spending a ridiculous amount of time and effort when it comes to the gifts you buy for people.

"Can't say unfortunately," you whisper, "or else it wouldn't be a secret."

You give him a smile that makes his stomach do a flip. "But I did get you something," you perk up.

You walk over to your bag and pull out a wrapped parcel, and carefully hand it over to him. "Thought you'd like it, took forever for it to ship over from overseas."

Minho examines the neatly wrapped box, wrapped in pink wrapping paper with a pink bow tied on top of the box. "Thank you," he sounds breathless.

He opens it carefully, and is met with a white box. He pulls the lid off and pulls out the cloth that sits on the bottom of the box. Revealing a white lab coat. The fabric is crisp and ironed. In the corner the text 'Dr. Minho Lee, PhD' is embroidered in black. Underneath the lettering is another embroidered patch. Instead of his name though, it's his three cats. Each of the cats looks identical to their real counterparts. "Sorry if it's stupid, I-" you apologize, "I just- I dunno-"

Stupid? It's the most thoughtful gift he has gotten in a long time. It comes from your heart, how could it be stupid.

You're the most beautiful and thoughtful person he's ever met. I love you, loved you for so long, he thinks to himself. He's so moved he almost feels like crying.

"Minho," you're quiet, stunned into silence.

He just realizes how his mouth has betrayed his mind, and his legs are moving with a panic.

The air is so damn dense as he sprints down the hall from the lab. The white fluorescent lights taunt him with their hum as he dashes away. Away from you, away from the chance that was all in his head.

He is gripping at the tie around his neck. He sees no comfort in the double doors out of the science lab, he is running without reason.

He breaks through the double doors and is soaked almost instantly. The snow is heavy and it patters against his body.

His legs stop moving, and he just stands there. In the snow. Terribly cold and terribly wet. He could curse God, but he doesn't believe in Him.

The doors behind him open and close. Doom blooms in his rapidly rising and falling chest. "Minho," it's you again, "Minho, you'll catch a cold."

His legs are frozen through. He couldn't move if there were a bear chasing him. He can't speak either. He's rendered silent. "Minho, it's about fucking time you confessed, b-because I-I l-love you too."

He can suddenly find the strength to face you.

When he does, the first thing he notices is your face. Mascara has soaked your cheeks, tear stains evident. "Y-huh? Wh-why are you c-crying?"

"Because I fucking love you," you sound weak- Minho never heard your voice sound so scared, "a-and you love me too? Did you mean it? You love me too?"

You're equally as soaked by the snow as he is. Your arms are crossed over your chest. He moves before he thinks, there really is nothing to think.

Hypothesis : you want him to kiss you. And according to the scientific method, he must test his hypothesis.

He's putting one foot in front of the other and moving to you. He wastes no time, simply cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss.

Sparks fly like shown in movies, his lips feel tingly and he can feel his heartbeat in every bone of his body.

Your lips are even softer than he imagined. Soft and molding against his own in ways that make him dizzy.

Like throwing a block of lithium into a pond, he feels like he may explode. Every atom in his body is undergoing a chain reaction that is so right he would never stop it.

"Love you," he's mumbling against your lips, "loved you for so long. You're everything I've ever wanted."

Tears brim his lashes, they nearly fall, but he is too elated to cry. "Minho," your voice is muffled by the sloppy kisses you're placing on his lips. You let out a groan and Minho's composure crumbles.

"Always been you," you hum, "since I met you, no one else."

All he had known until now had been decomposed and resynthesized. Like a chemical equation. He hates that he still thinks of you chemically.

Yet, he'd count every atom in your body so he could find out why you're so you. He's tear apart the heavens and the earth and chemically rearrange them just to see you smile.

Your bodies are melting together, forming a mixture of desperation, love, and lust. His hands are gripping every inch of your soft flesh available.

"Minho- mhm- take m-me home," you whimper into his mouth.

He kisses you one last time. He knows he will have this life, and the next to kiss you, he's in no rush.

His eyes finally open again, and he swears he has never seen a more beautiful sight. Your makeup is running down your face, and your lips are kiss bitten. Your body is pressed against his, and your hands are cupping his jaw. "H-home?" He stutters like a little kid.

"Your house," you grin, and he swears there's a mischievous glint in your eyes, "unless you don't wanna see me naked?"

If his jaw hadn't been on the floor before, it definitely was now. "God," he groans, "c'mon."

He's pulling you along with him, in the pouring snow, to his apartment. "If I catch a cold because of you, Lee Minho," you vaguely threaten.

"Then I'll nurse you back to health," he immediately replies.

You're both placing one foot in front of the other at a fast pace. When he sees his apartment around the corner, his heart thumps rapidly in his chest.

He doesn't struggle with the keys even though his hands are shaking beyond reasonable doubt. The warmth and comfort from his home is nothing compared to that which he gets from you.

He's stepping inside and pulling you in with him before slamming the door closed. A sudden fear rises in his chest, and any semblance of what to do next faded from his mind.

You notice this, you notice everything. "You okay?" you press your body against him.

You're both soaked from head to toe in cold water, yet you're so warm against him. "I-I?" he's stunned, like a dear in headlights.

You try and fail to hide the disappointment in your tone when you say, "do you not want t-"

He doesn't even leg you finish the sentence, "-I do. I do. I do. I-It's just not supposed to hap-happen like this."

"Please explain?"

"I - I have pictured, I've thought about us- us doing this, and I-I feel like I'm doing it wrong," you search his eyes for a clue as to what he means, "I mean-I just thought it would be so much more, romantic. N-not the confession, the- I just want to make it perfect for you."

"And how would you do that?"

"With rose petals and red wine and candles and-"

You shut him up with a kiss that is broken all too soon for Minho's preference, "you're such a dork, oh my god," you sigh playfully and hit his chest lightly, "I don't want roses or red wine, or candles. Minho, I want you. That's it."

"I-I," he stutters and can feel his cheeks heating up, "w-we should hop in the shower?"

"Excellent idea," you smirk.

Minho takes your hand in his and leads you to his bathroom, "sorry for the mess," he apologizes but knows that you won't mind.

He takes his eyes off you for only a moment to turn on the warm water, and when he turns back to you, you're halfway undressed. He swears he's never seen anything as beautiful as you.

You with your shirt and skirt in a heap on the floor, the only thing covering you is your underwear. Black cotton panties with lace hemmed on the side and a matching black bra.

You're reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra when he speaks up, "let me."

You smile at him and turn around, Minho's lips ghost down the side of your neck while his hands busy themselves, taking off your bra. He kisses down the back of your neck and your body shudders against his own.

You eagerly flip around and press your lips against his own. Now it's your hands that are pulling at his soaked shirt. You break the kiss but only for a moment, only so you can take off his shirt.

"Mhm," you moan into his mouth and Minho's grabbing at your sides like a madman.

His fingers hook under your panties and pull them down your legs.

And he finally gets a good look at your most sacred parts. They're more beautiful than his mind has ever painted them to be. Your breasts are soft to his touch, not too big nor too small. And your cunt, it looks tastier than a Sunday dinner in his eyes. His eyes rake down your happy trail that connects to your neatly trimmed bush and he wants to kiss it. He wants to kiss every inch of your skin.

He pulls down his boxers with his pants, and his semi-hard cock aches to be touched, to be inside you. You take his hand and step under the stream of water. He follows.

He'd follow you anywhere.

Hot water brings life to his cold skin. He's wrapping his arms around you, and his lips push against your own. "Where's the scar from?" you mumble the question between kisses.

"Had surgery wh-when I was a kid," he only stumbles over his words because your hand wraps around his cock and starts to slowly pump him.

He's so sensitive it hurts. Hurts all over. His body writhes at its own accord. "Your cock is so fucking pretty," you hum.

The words are filthy, but they sound as holy as the Pope's because they're said by you. "Baby- I-" you're so good at making him feel good.

Had you done this with someone else? Had you jerked them off in their shower? Had you ever brought another person this much pleasure?

Jealously pools in his chest at the idea of you with anyone that isn't him. "W-why are you so good at this? I-I just, please, wanna be the last. Can't handle the idea o-of you doing this to anyone but me," he confesses.

His sudden confession makes you falter and he tries to read the expression on your face, "last time I did this was before I met you, there's never been anyone since I met you. You were always gonna be it for me."

He almost sinks to his knees he feels so stupid. "D-do you want me to prep you?"

"There's no need, I promise," you smile at him.

You flip around, your body is pressed against his shower wall, the warm water hits his back and he swears he's never been more comfortable in his whole life.

He holds his cock in his hands and lines it up at your entrance. "You ready?" He can't help but sound a little cocky.

"God, Minho, just put it in," you whine.

His knees falter when he finally presses inside you, your walls are warm, inviting. You were right, you didn't need any prep.

"Oh, God," he groans even though he only has his tip in, "fuck, don't know how long I'm gonna last."

"Don't worry," you hum, a sharp squeak leaves your mouth when he stills all the way inside you.

He's buried so far in his cock is pressed up against your cervix. A shiver runs through his body when he finally thrusts inside you. You're tight and warm and so soft.

He's desperate, with every thrust of his hips he is losing every drop of his composure.

"Harder," you beg, "fuck me like you mean it."

His hips slam against your own, and you let out cries of pleasure as your body convulses against his own.

"Love you," you repeat the words like a mantra, they tumble from your lips with every thrust of his hips.

His hand wraps around your body and finds your clit. He would die if he didn't make you cum first. "Ah, jagi," he moans.

"Ah, Min- mama," you don't even realize what you're saying.

Mama? That was new, but he wouldn't protest. Not to you. Not in a million lifetimes.

"Mama, hmm?" Minho whimpers, "you wanna call me that?"

"Mhm," you nod your head furiously, "love you so much!"

How he loves you too.

His hand glides down your body and finds your swollen clit, he rubs it tenderly as his hips stutter in their movements. "Mama!" you squeal, "gonna cum!"

Minho can't warn you before he cums. He swears on everything he knows, this was the best sex he's ever had. His body convulses against yours and all that can be heard is the water hitting the shower and the both of your debauched breaths.

"Love you," you whisper.

Minho places a kiss on your spine, "I love you so much more, jagi. Merry Christmas."

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Stop misappropriating the abuse and trauma cults use through purity culture for your stupid fucking shipping discourse? Holy fuck no wonder everyone hates this whole discourse.

Since when is "priests getting shuffled around after raping kids and kids being told they're sinful because they had bodily reactions to being SAd" comparable to "Bobo the clown said my ship was cringe"

I'm not gonna answer this with The Aristocrats, as a I threatened, because I want to make a very serious point to this anon:

Purity culture isn't just religious abuse. It is most widely connected to religious abuse. Including actions in the Catholic Church and all fundamentalist Christianity. It's entire existence is about terrifying and indoctrinating people into being fearful of their own actions and bodies so that they feel certain that moving out from the "umbrella of safety" (to use a fundamentalist term) will result in them being harmed in ways they can't imagine. This is generally happening at the same time as they are being harmed by those who are supposed to be keeping them safe from all those terrible, worldly evils. Like speaking up when you're being abused. Believing you are not responsible for the actions of a rapist, and many, many other things that any person with an ounce of self-worth and good sense (two things not allowed in fundamentalist circles) knows are true in abuse situations.

But the point of the purity culture as identity in the above-mentioned circles is to teach people from birth that they aren't to have their own feelings, ideas, or instincts. They are only to follow the feelings, ideas, and instincts on the approved list in order to stay within the structures they know and feel safe in even as they feel very unsafe.

That being said:

Purity culture can also exist WITHOUT a religious structure while still being about controlling the thoughts, feelings, and actions of everyone within it. In terms of fandom, purity culture is groups of people stating that if you write something uncomfortable or gross or immoral, then YOU must be uncomfortable or gross or immoral and therefore, not worthy of the safety and moral superiority of the group.

Purity culture without religion teaches black and white thinking, encourages thought policing, and shames anyone who steps outside of a very narrow definition of good and bad by turning an entire group of people against them for being "bad".

Just like in religious circles.

Just like in the cult of fundamentalism.

Purity culture is a term taken by fundamentalists and turned into a whole way of life because the goal of fundamentalism is to make people too scared to leave. Purity culture in fandom does the same thing. It uses fear and threats of abandonment/harassment to control the way people act because a group of people decided they didn't like something, so they must try and wipe it out rather than simply ignore it.

I am not mis-using the term because "Bobo the clown said my ship was cringe." My use of the term is intentional and precise because what is happening in fandom spaces now is non-religious purity culture cult thinking. My use of the term does not invalidate or water down the use of it in conversations about religious abuse and trauma. With or without religion, purity culture is a dangerous cult of "us vs them" that is built to demoralize and eradicate those deemed unworthy.

[chillentertainer]

thinkin' abt a little john wick conclave au where thomas lawrence is an aging assassin who keeps trying to retire but then is forcibly brought back for "one last hit" (first said to him half a dozen hits ago). lawrence is tired and depressed and he might be really good at his job (and that might be the only thing he's good at) but that Saddens him. because is his only purpose in life to be a Butcher?

not to mention he just recovered from prostate cancer and is now thinking a lot about the afterlife and god and sin etc etc. he's sure he's destined for hell no matter what he does now. is there even any point in changing?

one day he's in rome, surrounded by all these churches. and he enters one. he goes into a confession booth. every week, he confesses minor sins that turn into lovely but frivolous discussions with the anonymous priest, who lawrence can only identify through his gentle voice and bright, easily elicited laugh that reminds lawrence of morning birdsongs. over the weeks, this blossoms into a strange kind of friendship.

finally during a discussion about their favorite kinds of tea, lawrence interrupts the priest's recommendation of kahwah, which they had so often in their time in kabul, and was so delicious, and they just can't find anything close to what they had here, isn't that a shame, and i beg your pardon, what??

i kill people, lawrence repeats. all the time. i want to stop but i can't. i want to retire but they won't let me. i'm afraid being a murderer is how i spent most of my life, and i'm afraid it's how i'll spend the rest of my years, too. i'm the lowliest of sinners. i'm the evil that should be wiped clean from the earth. if god cast me down into the fires of hell for eternity, again and again, i would gladly welcome it.

and there is a heavy silence during which lawrence tenses, waiting for a horrified outburst or some rage.

but the priest says, with infinite compassion in his tone, you are still here on earth with us. and so god, in his mercy, has given you time to beg forgiveness and find redemption. make amends, however you can. take no more life, not for any reason. you say you want to stop. then stop. i believe you have good in your heart. you would not have come here if you did not.

thomas says, yes, yes i will, i swear on His name. i'm sorry for having wasted all your time these past weeks, i should not have done so.

and finally he says, goodbye. because there's no point in returning and attempting to continue this friendship, not when the priest must be so disgusted and would want nothing to do with lawrence any longer.

the priest says nothing in return and it hurts but lawrence knows he deserves it. he deserves far, far worse, and god, why can't he be punished now or just die and suffer eternal torment, and then, maybe, maybe, his soul could feel some bloody relief. but the priest said, make amends. can't make amends if you're dead.

so lawrence returns to his miserable apartment, to try and make amends, whatever that means. he decides to leave rome and begins to pack. he wanders the streets in a daze and gives all the euros he has on him to a beggar. on saturday, the day he would've gone to confession, he buys kahwah from a bemused shopkeeper.

he returns to find his next assignment on his kitchen counter in the form of a usb stick. he doesn't want to open it. but if he leaves it alone for too long, they'll send agents to track him down and he'll get an earful from aldo. better to open the assignment and fool them now. he'll disappear from rome right after.

lawrence plugs in the usb stick. there's a name he doesn't recognize. he clicks through the research on his next victim that ray had meticulously assembled. there is a video. he hits play. a voice starts speaking. and lawrence spills his hot cup of kahwah all over his keyboard and trousers but he doesn't care because fuck it all, he does know his victim after all.

it's the priest he sat next to week after week, chatting about the merits of herbal medicine and whether agatha christie or arthur conan doyle wrote better mystery novels and about the incompetence of world governments. it's the priest he just confessed to about his true nature, that he wasn't just some englishman adrift in rome, but a cold-blooded killer. it's the priest that heard this and offered him a way out, anyways.

it's vincent benitez.

the video continues, as benitez smiles and waves at a young child, his dark eyes luminescent and kind.

now he has a face and name to the voice, lawrence first thinks, in a daze. he’s even more beautiful than i imagined him to be.

his second thought: what the hell did benitez do to piss somebody off that badly that they want him dead?

[ordowrites]

potions and brews

cw: mdni, dub-con, aphrodisiacs, afab reader with little pronouns used, mild yandere content with wanderer, general not sfw warnings., begging, oral (f.receiving) user has a vision, praising (use of "good girl"), orgasm denial, degradation, slightly unhealthy relationships, slight dom/sub dynamics, breeding kink

synopsis: inspired by the current genshin event going on! (the reader is not the Traveler), genshin characters reacting to you (or them) consuming an aphrodisiac.

characters: diluc, kaeya, arlecchino, wanderer

i. diluc

you frown as you stare at him, his face is flustered a bit and he clears his throat. he tries to find words as you across your arms over your chest, an unamused look crossing your face as he fumbles a bit.

"ah - i-it seems that i may have had the traveler get a bit too creative with potion making." he's too polite to say it or maybe even too embarrassed, but you can tell in his gorgeous red eyes that he needs something. before you can even open your mouth to offer help, maybe your hydro vision could cool him down some, his strong arms are wrapping around you and pulling you flush close to him. lips find yours as quickly as possible.

"i'm sorry," he groans after he breaks away. it isn't long before he's began stripping both of you, pushing you against his desk and uttering those words again. you try to lightly protest, informing diluc that he's not in the right state of mind, he cuts you off with a soft bite to your neck, fingers pressing against your slick cunt. and when he husks your name against your ear in the way that always makes you weak in your knees, you lose all reasoning as you let him fuck you against his desk.

"i know, i'm sorry, need you so badly - ugh, such a good girl for me. fuck. gonna fill you up over and over again."

ii. kaeya

"kaeya," you beg as you stare up at him with desperation and you squirm on your place on his bed. "kaeya, please." the consumption of an aphrodisiac was accidental and all your instincts told you to go to the ever so kind calvary captain for help. he's smart, after all - he would have a solution.

except now, you're not quite sure what that solution is - or really, you just don't want to say it out of pure humiliation. your studies have always been botany, that you should have been a bit wiser to whatever you put in your mouth. but alas, science wins over mental logical any day.

he's grinning at you, from ear to ear as he looms over you.

"my, what a mess you've made of yourself." he teases as he climbs onto his bed - his fingers tantalizingly stroking what skin he can reach. "and of my bed."

"hurry up," you plead. there is a look in kaeya's eye as he pushes you down on your back.

"precious, i don't think you're in the right position to be making demands." but he obliges anyways, hands wandering to your breasts. you're in for a very long afternoon.

"keep begging me, precious, and maybe i'll let you cum. look how pretty you are like this, all needy and desperate for me. would be a shame if we neded this too soon, yes? you can go one more round for me."

iii. arlecchino

you think she might be mad, with the way she's looking at you - maybe even displeased. you're not sure, but all you know is you want and she is right there.

"who drugged you?" it's clear she's trying to maintain some sense of composure, though you're not sure if she's going to be able to maintain such a prim and proper state as you squirm and try to soothe your too hot body with the coolness if your hydro vision.

"i uh -" you try to find the words, feeling the humiliation creep up on you. "n-nobody."

"nobody?" you nod. arlecchino doesn't seem to believe you, but she strides over to you anyways. of course not, you want to say. nobody would ever dare lay a finger on the knave's most precious person. she sighs as she looks over you. "i suppose it can't be helped." you tremble as she touches you - you're not sure if it's out of fear or lust, either way, your thoughts stop when she kisses you.

you're soon on your hands and knees, your tongue working at your soaked cunt as a clawed hands grip at your long hair, the other at your throat. you grind desperately against her shoe, trying to chase the coil that's only started to tighten in your stomach. all you can think about is arlecchino, how wonderful she tastes on your tongue, how you would do anything for her - oh how you need -

"no getting off - this is a punishment, my little gem. there we go. oh you're growing tired? weary? that's too bad, the lesson needs to stick about consuming strange things. work harder to please me."

iv. the wanderer

hunger, that's the term you can apply to the way he's looking at you right now. hungry. he knows, because of course he knows - nothing ever escapes his perceptive eyes. and he looks pleased, worst of all, with your flushed cheeks and soft whines as you try to get yourself off. you didn't dare go to him, because you never know how he's going to react.

of course, he's a welcomed presence - with the way he's reverently kissing you and touching you everywhere he can. you gasp out his name, hips bucking the moment his lips touch your needy cunt. it doesn't take long for him to get drunk on it, lips, mouth, fingers working at you until you're mewling and moaning mess, debauching his face as you move your hips.

slow, closed circles around your clit as you clenching around his fingers as you cum and he looks thrilled. pants off, cock erect - he keeps you pinned with his inhuman strength as he slowly enters you. it doesn't really dawn on you that no protection is being used as you bliss out when his cock fully enters you.

this, you think within the fog of your mind as your legs wrap around his hips. is where i belong.

"what a slut, accepting drinks from strangers like that. you're so stupid but you're lucky i love you. i'm going to breed you - don't think i won't. you'll be mine, permanently. mine, all mine."

[konigsblog]

MORE LOSER KÖNIG PLEASE ORLA IM ON MY KNEES 🙏🏻🙏🏻🥹

more loser-könig thots™️... specifically, loser-könig fawning over someone he cannot have. :(

cw: RAPE/NON-CON, intoxcation & drugging. 18+ dead dove: do not eat. 🪦🕊️

perhaps it's embarrassing for him, but könig will do anything to get his hands on you, even just for a simple kiss. he's humiliated that he's this desperate, but seeing you love and dote on your boyfriend breaks him – that man, who is taking his spot, who is stealing you from him.

it's shameful, but he has to feel you, at least once. könig is aware that you're loyal and trustworthy, you'd never go out of your way to hurt someone, but the pathetic loner in the corner drools over you regardless, and he'll do anything to get you to cheat on that bastard. it's pathetic to see, really – it's the reason he's a social outcast; constantly trying to destroy relationships out of jealousy and spite.

he's never experienced nor felt this type of love for someone before, until you came along – another university student, the one he protectively watches from afar – totally no other reason... people get uncomfortable near könig, as they've seen him rubbing one out whilst watching you closely and protectively, like a wolf hunting it's prey.

although, despite people warning you about könig, you're nothing but sweet and polite to him. you try to make sure he's aware that you're not leading him on, or looking for a relationship, but könig can't differentiate a normal conversation and you flirting with him, leading him to become increasingly more touchy and flirty.

your boyfriend isn't as smart, nor as wealthy as könig. i believe könig may have grown up in a rich family, without getting any attention, causing him to become depraved for anything he can grasp (or maybe, he grew up poor, who knows...) you'd be better off with könig, who'd financially support you and fuck your brains out every night.

könig struggles to accept it, that you're uninterested. he can't fathom how you wouldn't want him, as he's been so kind towards you. to könig, he's doing more than the bare minimum by speaking to you politely, as he will snarl at those for no reason, a judgemental asshole who's hated by most...

he'll just have to take matters into his own hand, when you're drunk, he'll slip something into your drink, drugging you. then, he'll undress you in the bathroom, peeling your clothes off gently, whilst covering your eyes while you giggle your boyfriend's name.

poor thing, you didn't even realise you were getting fucked by that pervert people warned you about ‘til you felt the sheer size of his bulbous, lengthy cock easing further inside, larger than what you remember...

too bad that you're drunk and weakened, unable to stop könig from carrying out his wildest fantasies. ;(

[gyll-yee-haw]

maria, don’t get me wrong, I love soft & sweet donnie… but like… dare I ask…. mean…and…rough donnie? 👀

also huge props to you for pushing out so many fics!! so glad to have you back ml 💗

Hmmm yeah? He sure can do that too!

(Thank you so much, honey!! I'm so happy to be back ❤)

Warnings: very mean!dom!Donnie, teasing in public, slapping, pussy slapping, degradation, unprotected sex, creampie

Like 1k words.

---

Donnie is mean. He's mean to his parents, to his sister, to his dick-head friends, to his teachers... he has quite a sharp tongue when replying to something he judges to be stupid, which isn't rare.

Oh but when it comes to you, he's a totally different person. He's sweet, caring, always speaks calmly and looks at you like you were the prettiest, most shinny and fragil crystal in the world. At least until you learnt how to push the right buttons. I mean... you loved your sweet boyfriend, but your body craves something more sometimes...

And when it did, all you had to do was tease him. Unzipping his pants under the school desk is a classic. Your hand sliding inside his pants slowly, only to get him hard, but never to get him off... he went all red everytime. Or maybe you would be extra nice to another boy in front of him. Or just act bratty, giving him an attitude in front of everyone. Any of these will work.

Any of these will get his fingers wrapped tightly around your arm as he pushed you inside his room, fuming.

"Ouch, Donnie..." you would complain. But it was too late now.

"Sit down and shut the fuck up."

As soon as you sat on the bed, he would lift your skirt up and brutally tear your underwear off. You never wore panties you liked too much on days you woke up willing to piss him off, a lesson you learnt the hard way.

"You're such a whore." He pretended to be disappointed, running two fingers through your folds. "Look how fucking wet you get only by disrespecting me. And you want me to believe you fucking love me."

"But I love you, Donnie..." You moaned as his fingers entered you at once.

"Thought I told you to shut the fuck up." He removed his fingers as quickly as he shoved them in. Next thing you heard was a loud slap. It was unexpected... he had never slapped your pussy before. It made you close your legs immediately. He didn't seem to like that very much.

He forced your legs open and gave you another slap. You bit your lip to stop a scream for coming out. He slapped again and your eyes rolled back.

"Whore." He repeated, bitting back a smirk. "On all fours, now."

You didn't think twice before obeying.

"You want my cock?" He grabbed your ass cheeks, squeezing them hard.

"Yes, Donnie, please..." You begged nicely, afraid he would punish you again.

"It doesn't seem like you do." He chuckled, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down along with his underwear. "The way you've been acting... you don't fucking deserve it."

"Just..." You tried explaining yourself as you heard him start stroking his cock behind you. "Just like it when you're mean. It's why I do it."

"Like it when I'm mean?" He gave your ass a loud slap. "You know what would be mean? If I didn't fuck you at all. If I didn't even touch you."

"No! Please, Donnie..." You felt your pussy clench around nothing, absolutely desperate.

"Yeah, it's a shame I want you too bad to be able to do that." He admitted. You felt him teasing the tip of his cock at your entrance.

The relief as you felt him entering you slowly, inch by inch, made you arch your back and moan like a porn star. You already got him mean and horny, now it was all about being good, so he would let you cum.

The thing is that he used 100% of his patience already, so he wasn't going to be gentle now. His thrusts started deep and fast and it hurt quite a bit. At least until he found that sweet spot, that turned the pain into shivers down your spine.

"You wanted me to be mean, now you take it." His hands grabbed your hips, forcing your body against his as if he just couldn't fuck you hard enough.

At that point, it was all you could do: take it. Just lie there offering your hole for him to use. Moaning against the mattress, more afraid of annoying him than of what the neighbors would hear. At that moment there weren't neighbors, there was only Donnie, his grunts and his huge cock making you stupid.

"Donnie..." you cried out. "I'm gonna..."

"I don't care." He interrupted you, he's movements losing rythm. "But you better hurry up if you want to cum, because once I'm finished, I don't want to hear you whining anymore."

You gripped the sheets as tightly as your pussy squeezed his cock. He cursed under his breath, trying to hold his own orgasm back. He really fucking cared. He wanted you to cum so badly. And you did. Fuck, you did. So hard. Squeezing him so good. He had no choice but to spill his seed deep inside of you.

Mean Donnie will give you mindblowing sex every single time. But as soon as his balls are empty, he's back to the sweet boyfriend he is. Keeping that character with you is more exhausting than pounding you.

He would beg you not to do it again... beg you to be good for him, as he cuddled you afterwards. Give you kisses and take care of your shaking body. But unfortunately, he fucked you too good, now there will have to be a next time. :(