#disclaimer: is it a Romantic relationship? FUCK IF WE KNOW

[explaintome]

Dear Mouthwashing fandom, explain to me, why next to the incredible fan art, I find a fuck ton of shipping content, especially between characters where this is highly problematic? SPOILERS FOR MOUTHWASHING AHEAD CN for talk about sexual abuse, death, suicide & violence

DISCLAIMER: I do not shame the general practice of shipping at all. I am a shipper myself and I think it makes up for a lot of interesting dynamics and narratives outside the canon. Shipping is an important pillar of fandom communities and I am unable to forbid you to do it. HOWEVER, in the case of Mouthwashing I want to talk about what, in my opinion, feels tone-deaf to the themes and the canon of the game. But let me start with a short summary of the game before I get into it.

Mouthwashing is basically a visual novel that takes place on the Tulpar, the last manned cargo ship of the company Pony Express. The crew, consisting of Caption Curly, Co-Captain Jimmy, Nurse Anya, Mechanic Swansea and his intern Daisuke, is confronted with a crash against an asteroid and the consequences following it. The story is told out of order to reveal the truth bit by bit. What caused the crash, what happened and how the crew deals with the time afterward being stuck on the ship. Revealing sexual abuse, tragic backstories, the horrible side effects of late state capitalism and the neglect of people in command towards the people they are responsible for.

To boil it down we have two men who, out of societal misogyny, hurt the only woman on their crew by assaulting her or not acting as they should have in their position of responsibility. All of this would not have happened if Jimmy didn't rape Anya and impregnate her, and if Curly had disciplined Jimmy in a capacity possible on the ship and in Jimmy's position as co-pilot. To be honest, with the amount of automatization the ship has, I don't think they need Jimmy if it is not a case of emergency, but I digress. Jimmy is the perpetrator of the story, but Curly is an accomplice in putting his aim of finding a solution and compromise over punishing his subordinate as he should have.

And now to my actual point: I am a big fan of the game, the narration style and the utter tragedy of 5 people losing their lives in the isolation of space, with their company not giving a shit about them. Otherwise, they might have been rescued much earlier or at all. Or had enough cryo pots in the first place. Or a nurse with experience. Or any amount of better equipment and not the most cheap shit that somehow made it through a resemblance of regulations. There are probably no regulations.

Being a fan I, of course, looked into the hashtags on several social media sites, and between the incredible art and analysis of the game, I quickly found shipping content, and I have no idea why. I have literally no idea how that narrative speaks to you in a way of shipping characters romantically/sexually. Especially three shippings really rub me the wrong way.

ANYA/JIMMY

Are you fucking kidding me? Literally, what is wrong with you shipping a victim with their abuser? There was not one interaction between them, that suggest that there was consent or affection, that Jimmy has any sympathy for Anya. He knows what is going on, he knows that Anya is pregnant and takes no responsibility. Even worse, his idea of FIXING this was to kill everyone, at least himself, to avoid responsibility! Same goes for AUs where she kept the baby and is somehow okay and happy? I get the urge to fix it, but that is not a good fix. There is no good fix if you are pregnant due to rape.

ANYA/CURLY

A lot of argument I hear for that is that "at least Curly is her friend and was nice to her" and if that is your whole foundation of argument, I want to ask what your standards for a relationship are. Please know that you deserve more than the bare minimum. Another question in that context: Is Curly really Anya's friend? His friend was abused and instead of protecting her, he tried to reason and help her abuser! That is not the behavior of a friend! There is no "but Jimmy is his friend too!". If your friend is an abuser and that does not make you stop being their friend....why?

JIMMY/CURLY

It feels like it is a law on the internet, that two men who look at least averagely handsome will be shipped, especially if they have the tiniest of connection to each other. I am not even sure if I would call them friends in the first place. It appears that Jimmy, whatever his bad life before that job was (thanks to the developers for not giving us a backstory), he is still absolutely unsatisfied with that he has. He is jealous of Curly and his position, seeing how quickly he takes on the Captain title after the crash and only realizes far too late how hard the position actually is. Curly on the other hand feels a bit like a people pleaser to me. He probably had pity for Jimmy, took him under his wing to help him? Fix him? Whatever it is, it made him ignore Jimmy's bad side to a fatal degree. I respect the toxic yaoi but are you sure?

TLDR; I am worried about how the practice of shipping developed, from a way to extend the canon, explore queerness in cis/straight dominated media, into a compulsion of where some people can't look at any form of media or constellation of characters without immediately smashing them together like dolls. If you do this, maybe step back for a minute and ask yourself if it is appropriate. On that note, same goes in case you defend Jimmy. Why?

[ragnars-tooth]

They say write what you know so my flatmate and I accidentally fake dating aued ourselves into a relationship 😭😭

[cazshmere]

Astrology Observations Pt. 8 🦂

materialist🔖

DISCLAIMER: These are just my personal observations and are meant for entertainment purposes only; it may not resonate with everyone due to the nuances of astrology. Please respect my work and avoid copying or stealing it. Enjoy reading!! 🦂

🦂 I think people who have their chiron in the 3rd/7th or 11th house may experience significant insecurity about posting on social media and being in front of a camera, or even commenting under various posts online. They often overthink the things they put out online/the things they were going to post online 😭 and also if they post pictures/videos they might rewatch the picture/video 984726261 times and often find a SOME tiny fault and convince themselves to delete whatever it is that they have posted. This placement can create a deep-seated fear of judgment and a tendency to second-guess every public interaction

🦂I have noticed that scorpio moons and capricorn moons have very involved and critical mothers/parents, exhibiting behaviors typical of helicopter parenting. For instance they could micromanage every single thing you do or have some sort of comment to make about every little thing you do (also applicable to aries and virgo moons). I also feel that cappy and scorpio moons may find it the hardest to detach from their generational trauma because their parents may have instilled strict principles/beliefs into them and they end up carrying forward all these beliefs which in return makes them more susceptible to repeating toxic patterns which then ends up causing A LOT of trauma to these individuals ❤️‍🩹

🦂 honestly taurus placements aren’t always mindful and demure, despite being ruled by venus. Most taurus placements (esp sun,moon and mars) are NOT afraid to call people out on their bs and are extremely straightforward and direct. The type to insult you straight to your face if you annoy them or smtg 😭 and you’d be like ouch, what was the reason for that??💀. They can come across as arrogant and rude sometimes BUT this all makes a lot of sense as a lot of them tend to be sidereal aries placements after all🙏😂

🦂 speaking of sidereal placements I wanna talk about how virgos can be super playful and child-like (esp with the people they are comfortable with) because they’re leo placements in sidereal + virgo placements also really crave attention, sometimes way more than Leo’s tbh✨

🦂 aries and scorp moon/venus women often attract guys who initially start off as wanting to be/being their “friends” BUT the only reason they wanted to be their friend in the first place is because they see potential for a romantic/sexual relationship with them. It’s sad because literally every guy friend you have/had TOTALLY had other intentions that weren’t platonic 🥲

🦂 having placements in the 2nd house (esp if there are no harsh aspects) just mellows down the intensity of the placement. For instance moon in the 2nd house people can regulate their emotions much more stable and easy manner. Having placements in the 2nd house is such a BLESSING.

🦂 if you think you know someone with a scorpio moon, moon in the 8th house or moon-pluto native, trust me you DON’T😭. no one will ever KNOW every single part of them. They remind me of onions yk? SO MANY LAYERS to them and no one will ever truly know everything about them

🦂 also idk if I’ve mentioned this before but CAN WE JUST TAKE A MINUTE TO APPRECIATE HOW FUCKING FUNNY/HUMOROUS CANCER PLACEMENTS ARE???? literally SO SO witty and make you laugh till your stomach hurts😭🫶🏻

🦂 with age, saturn in cancer natives can look a lot like their mothers 💗

🦂 shadow traits are often expressed through the moon and mars, as these planets govern our raw emotions and drives. For example, an aries moon’s may react with impulsive outbursts and frustration, while a scorpio mars might exhibit controlling, obsessive, or manipulative behaviors to maintain power. These primal reactions tend to surface under stress or vulnerability. To work on your shadow self, it's helpful to focus on your Moon and Mars placements, as these often reveal where you're repeating or expressing toxic behaviors. By understanding how these signs influence your emotional reactions and drive, you can better recognize and address patterns that need healing.

banner/pic credits to the rightful owners

© cazshmere 2024 [All Rights Reserved]

[written-in-flowers]

Recording in Session: Han x Male!Reader

Pairing: Han Jisung x Male!Reader | Side pairings: Lee Know x Han, Chan x Male!Reader

Genre: Smut, fluff | AU: idolverse, ninth member au

Word Count: 6k

Summary: Considering Chan's strict "No-Studio-Sex' rule, Han takes you somewhere that doesn't have such restrictive, authoritarian rules.

Tags: polyamory, open relationship, idol!reader, sub!han, dom!reader, dom/sub undertones, studio sex, dry humping, light spanking, sloppy blowjobs, rough blowjobs, throat fucking, face fucking, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, rimming, anal fingering, anal sex, facials, cum swallowing, han loves cum and isn't afraid to show it

Disclaimer: These works are completely fictitious and for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to reflect or label the members of Stray Kids in any way. The events within never took place. Thank you. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Taglist: @james-is-here @onementally-unstabel-kid @omg-lexiloveyou @drinkingrumandcocacola @diverseinterests @kenaicantcommunicate @galaxy4489 (let me know below if you want to be tagged!

Here's What You Missed on Newbie!

Next on Newbie!

****

“Where are you guys going after?”

“I don’t know yet. We haven’t picked a place. You?”

“He wants to go to this sushi place near his dorm. He said he knows I’ve been craving it, and now he is too.” 

You both sat next to one another on the couch. Han scrolled away on his phone, likely researching the sushi restaurant, while you looked for places on yours. Recording days usually took a while, so you knew you’d have a long wait ahead of you for Chan. You guessed you could look up places until your turn in the booth came. The idea of being alone with Chan was satisfying enough, but you supposed you needed some shared activity or experience. Nothing too romantic, since you’re only friends, but nothing boring. 

“So, how’s it going?” Han asked, the music through the speakers covering his voice from Chan. 

“How’s what going?” you replied, finding an interesting barbeque restaurant. 

“You and, you know,” he nodded over to Chan at the desk, going over a line with Felix in the booth. 

“It’s fine.”

“Just ‘fine’?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I figured since you’ve been with us six months now,” he began, “I thought you guys might’ve finally stopped messing around and confronted your feelings for each other.”

“There are no ‘feelings’,” you said, though not very convincingly. “We’re friends, that’s all.”

“Friends who go on dates every other week and see each other all the time.”

“It’s not a ‘date’. We just like hanging out together.”

“Alone? In romantic settings?”

“They’re not romantic,” You thought about the seaside bar you’d both gone to a while back. It’d been so lovely, and it was open late. Also, it was not too far away, so you wouldn’t have trouble getting there. 

“So, you’re telling me that you don’t think lunch picnics under a tree by the river isn’t romantic?”

“It can be platonic. Not everything needs to be romantic.”

“That’s how things started between Minho-hyung and I,” he said, “And here we are: Dating for three years and living together now. Then again, we were made for each other, so it was going to work out anyway.”  He gave a sly smile, “If you and Chan don’t become a thing, you can be our third. I would love having more than Dom.”

“Pfft, I’m hardly Dom material,” you scoffed. 

“The way you railed Hyunjin and Jeongin says otherwise,” he snickered. “They say your dick is life-changing.”

You laughed recalling Hyunjin’s words, and said, “They’re exaggerating. I’m not some kind of sex god.”

“Who’s a sex god?” Minho walked into the room, confused by the last words he’d heard. 

“You,” Jisung grinned playfully, puckering his lips for Minho to kiss them. “I told YN-hyung that if he wanted he could be our third.”

“Aren’t all the members technically our third? And fourth? And fifth? And sixth and seventh?” he asked, amused as he gave Jisung a second kiss before taking the seat beside him on the couch. 

“Yeah, but YN-hyung would be special,” Han said with a wink at you. 

“I don’t know,” Minho said with jealous eyes, “I don’t think I can compete with the anaconda he’s got in his pants.”

“It’s not that big,” you defended once again, earning laughs from the couple. 

“I’d still like to ride it one day,” Han leaned closer to you, keeping his voice low under the music. “Jeongin said he’s only ever gotten pounded like that by Chan-hyung.” He put his hand on your thigh, “I want to get wrecked by you next.” 

“Jisung-ah, we’re in the studio,” Minho warned, looking at Felix in the booth and listening to his last lines. 

“What? I’m not doing anything.” 

“You’ve been a tease this entire week,” he replied, holding Jisung by the chin. “Don’t make me put you on the horse again.”

“The horse?”

“It’s a sex machine I put him on when he’s misbehaved,” Minho shrugged casually. “I sit him there and edge him with it. I sometimes whip or spank him while he’s on it, but I usually don’t.” He pouted at Jisung, “And you don’t want me to put you on that again, do you? How many times did I edge you before not letting you cum at all?”

“Four.”

“If you keep pushing the no-studio-sex boundary,” he said, forehead pressed to Jisung’s, “I’ll make it six.” 

You saw Jisung gulp before Minho kissed him. “Maybe YN-yah can help me sometime,” he suggested, seeing you watch them. “He can be a Dom when he wants to be one.”

“I’m not a real Dom.” 

“No, you’re not, are you?” Minho asked, a flirty glint in his eyes. He glanced over to where Chan sat, then said loudly, “You’re a good boy who needs a daddy to take care of you.”

“YNie, you’re next,” Chan said, not acknowledging what Minho said. 

“Hyung,” Jisung called to Felix when he stepped out of the booth, “Is YN-hyung a Dom or a Sub?-”

“-Why is this important?-”

“-He strikes me as more of a Switch, honestly,” Felix said, pushing back hair from his face. “I like guys who can do both,” he winked at you. 

“-You said I’m next, hyung?” You stood up from your seat and went right to the booth. “Can we go line-by-line, if that’s okay?” 

“Sure,” Chan said, also wanting to move from the topic. 

You set the microphone to your height, and pushed the conversation away. You learned during your time with Stray Kids that Chan took the ‘no studio sex’ rule very seriously. He didn’t mind it in individual studios, but when it came to recording together, it was prohibited. He wanted everyone focused on recording well, not getting into each other’s pants. Of course, the members care about producing a good album as much as him, so they mostly flirted if anything. You also believed part of it was the possibility someone in the company not privy to the “secret” would walk in on it. You understood why, and followed it to avoid ending up on the receiving end of a Leader Scolding. You didn’t want Chan upset with you or believing you really couldn’t control yourself. 

Though, Han regularly tested this restraint. 

“-Mouth hung open, don’t know where to look,” you sang into the microphone gently, getting into the music playing in your headphones. 

“Go a bit deeper,” Chan said, his voice coming through when the music stopped. “It sounds too light.”

“Okay,” you nodded. The music started again, and you sang in a slightly deeper tone, “Mouth hung open, don’t know where to look.”

“Not bad, not bad,” Chan praised, “Let’s do one more.” 

“Mouth hung open, don’t know where to look.” 

“Okay, yes, let’s go with that one,” he declared, and you agreed. “Let’s give the next line a listen.”

“Okay,” you said. Han’s voice came through as the song started, and you looked at your notes as you sang right after, “We act the way we think, the way we feel.”

“Nice,” Chan said as you stopped. “Let’s keep that one and go again.” 

Chan’s praise always made you feel good. Since working with the group, you felt your skills had improved much more. Chan said you were always good, but you disagreed. You worked on your lines with Chan, with Han and Minho giving their opinions from time to time. It felt productive. It felt good being a part of something, truly part of it and not looking from the outside. You rarely recorded with the previous groups since you hardly had any lines in your own songs. So, being there with the members felt exciting each time. Also, yes, Chan being the one who praised you made you warm inside. 

“Great!” Chan said on the last line, “Really great.”

“Thanks,” you said with a small bow, smiling wide at the success and relieved to be done so quickly. 

You picked up your song notes, then walked out of the booth. Minho stood up from the couch, patting your back as he passed you into the booth next. Han sat on the couch on his phone. You guessed the couple had plans like you and Chan, and wanted to be done as soon as possible. You took Minho’s seat, sinking into the plush leather couch as Minho’s warm ups from the speakers. Usually, there’d be another producer present, but today appeared to be a special case. You took up your phone, starting to scroll for a new place to try when a message came in. 

“You’re such a good singer, hyung,” Han’s message read, the rapper curling up on the couch and leaning against you. 

Considering he texted it rather than say it out loud, something sensual was sure to follow. “Thanks. I try,” you texted back, heat in your cheeks. 

“Maybe being a good singer means your moans sound good too.” 

“How did I know you’d say something like that? Lol” you laughed to yourself, shaking your head. 

“Because I’ve been teasing you all week.” 

He wasn’t lying. Han Jisung had been teasing you all week. Ever since you returned from Milan, when everyone saw you with Hyunjin, you’d received more photos and videos than before. It started with small flirty glances and blushing smiles in the practice room. In the studio, he’d lay his head on your lap or find excuses to cuddle close to you so your bodies touched. During photo or video shoots, he’d make sure you saw glimpses of his petite, lean body as he dressed. In the car on your way to an important event, he’d sit beside you instead of Minho and touch your thigh. Never too brazen. Never too obvious. Despite his lust for you, Han managed to keep it under the radar better than other members. 

“Minho-hyung really doesn’t mind?” you texted back, giving a glance to the man in the recording booth. 

“Not when it’s the other members,” he said. “He’s the one who helped me take those pictures I sent you. Did you like them? 😉” 

“Of course,” you shuddered remembering the photos of Han tied up and gagged on his bed. He’d been sweaty, hickies on his neck, teary eyed with cum on his stomach. “You knew I would.” 

“You know you can do that to me whenever you like,” his free hand gave your thigh a gentle squeeze. 

“Chan-hyung is right there!” you replied, nodding over to Chan, who was too focused on helping Minho to notice. “Studio sex isn’t allowed. He’ll get super pissed.” 

“He’s busy,” he responded. “It’s not like I’m blowing you 😜” 

‘But you’d like to be, I’m sure 😜”

“Duh! Have you seen how much you cum? I want all of it.” 

You gulped when his hand went further up your thigh. “Every drop,” he added. “All of it in my mouth and down my throat.” 

You’d decided long ago that rappers had a great disadvantage in dirty talking. 

“Remember the last video I sent?” 

“How can I forget? You looked so pretty riding that tentacle toy and cumming all over yourself.”

“I was thinking about you using my throat like a toy, just fucking it however you want until you cum.”

“Jisung-ah.”

You withheld a gasp when his hand found your crotch. He stopped texting you, and focused on your soft cock. Your eyes glanced over to Chan and Minho, who still somehow had not noticed you two on the couch. A part of you knew Chan would be disappointed in you, but Han’s hand felt so warm and his fingers knew exactly where to go. Through your gray shorts, he put enough pressure so you felt his fingers on him. You gripped your phone tightly, seeing his hand slowly slide up and down your length. When his hand dipped to your balls, you shifted to rest them fully in his palm. Your eyes met Jisung’s, and he smirked mischievously, cheeks puffing slightly around his cheekbones. He knew what he was doing to you, and it drove you insane. 

“I know you two aren’t doing what I think you’re doing,” Chan’s voice broke through your thoughts. You two immediately pulled apart. “You know the rules,” he said, as he wrote down notes for the next verse. 

“We have no idea what you’re talking about, hyung,” Han said innocently, removing his hand from your lap. “YN-hyung and I are only talking about the new song.”

“If you two want to fuck so bad,” he said, “Go do it somewhere else.”

“What’s going on?” Minho asked from inside the booth. ���Am I done?”

“Your boyfriend can’t keep his hands to himself in the studio,” Chan answered, pressing the speaker button to talk. 

“Hannie-yah,” Minho’s voice came laced with a warning, “You know better.”

“But, we’re both bored waiting on you two,” you said, trying to help Jisung out of trouble. “We weren’t going to go farther than touching, we swear.”

“Yeah, only until you guys finished for the day,” said Han. 

“You both know we have seven other members to record,” Chan said, “And Changbin hasn’t shown up yet and neither has anyone else. We’d have to play what we’ve done so far, and see if there are any changes to be made tomorrow. You both know that. I’ve told you more than once that studio sex isn’t allowed.”

“We can go to my studio then,” Han said to you, brown eyes heavy with lust. “There’s no stupid sex rule there.”

“It’s not a stupid rule. We would get almost nothing done when all of you are so fucking horny all the time,” Chan said, sounding agitated. 

“Hyung, don’t be so tough on them,” Minho said. “Jisung hasn’t been fucked properly in a while, so he’s all needy and stuff. YNie would be doing me a favor,” he then chuckled. “I think that whole alpha-omega thing is real, because he’s like a dog in heat sometimes.”

“Am not!” argued Jisung. 

“So, I shouldn’t tell everyone here how I woke up to you humping my leg?” 

You stifled a giggle. “I wasn’t humping your leg,” Han said, arms crossed, “I was just snuggling and got hard.” 

“Tell that to my pants,” Minho snorted. 

“As much as I’d love to watch you two go at it like rabbits,” Chan interrupted the conversation, “It’s work time.” 

You and Han shared a glance, then you both stood from the couch. Han walked into the recording booth where he cornered Minho, while you walked over to Chan. 

“You can always take a break,” you suggested, your lingering arousal stirring in you. “You work so much, hyung. You deserve a long, relaxing break.”

Chan snickered, clicking around on the screen to replay Minho’s recording. “Tempting, but not today, YNie. You’ll have to settle for another one of our bottoms again.” 

“But, hyung,” you slid your hands on his shoulders, feeling the warmth of him through his black shirt, “I haven’t been topped in a long time.” His shoulders flexed against your rolling thumbs, and you worked out the small knots you found. You bent down to his ear, “Please? Just this one time?” You started towards his neck, then to his back. The low groan he gave sent shivers to the arousal inside you. “Minho can have Jisung, and you could have me. I’ve been dying to be pounded by you.”

Chan then turned his chair around, and pulled you to him by the waist. He remained dangerously close to your crotch, looking up at you from your hips. You hoped he might at least kiss you. With how his eyes scanned over your face to your lips, and back to your eyes, you thought he might finally do it. He brought you closer, inches away from him before he said:

“I said not today, YN-yah,” he said, gently. “Patience is a virtue, you know.”

“A virtue I’m slowly losing my grip on,” you replied, bending down to his level. “I’ll get you someday, Leader-nim.” 

Chan stuck his tongue into his cheek to repress a smile at the name. “Sooner than you think if you keep calling me that,” he said, brushing your cheekbone with his thumb. “I’d love to hear you moan it for me.”

“Oh, Leader-nim,” you said, faking one for him. “Leader-nim, that feels so good. Don’t stop,” you put your lips to his ear, “Leader, make me yours. Pound my ass until I can’t walk straight. Use my throat like a fleshlight and make me choke on your huge cock.”

He bit his tongue as you teased him. “Damn,” he sighed, “It’s a shame I’m working right now. I’d love to do to you what you’ve been doing to all the bottoms around here.”

He turned his chair around, and you grunted with your arms crossed. You turned to see Han receiving the same gentle rejection, a kiss promising more much later. He came back to you, sliding his arms around your middle. “Looks like we’ll have to settle for each other,” he pouted, head on your shoulder. “Since our boyfriends have no interest in fucking us themselves.”

“I’m recording, Jisung!”

“He used to love me,” he continued as if he didn’t hear Minho, playfulness in his tone. “I don’t know what happened.”

“I’ll put you on the horse, I swear. Keep it up.” 

“I don’t mind taking his place,” you said, turning in his arms and embracing him. Your hands went down his back to cup his ass, “I think I’d like waking up to you leaking all over my leg.” 

“I’m right here, you know,” Minho said as Chan laughed. 

“You can wake up to all kinds of things with me,” Han said, tracing your Adam's apple to the base of your throat. “A good fuck is a great way to start your morning,” he leaned closer to you, nose gently nuzzling yours. “And with a dick like yours just inches away from me?” he reached down to your bulge again, smiling when you gasped, “I don’t think I’d be able to control myself around you.”

“You already can’t now,” you laughed, tracing his jawline to his lips. “You jumped on me the second you got up close to me.”

“I really was trying to hold back. It’s just…I was rewatching Hyunjin’s video and I couldn't stop picturing you doing all of that to me too,” he said. “I had no idea you could do that.” His hand traced the outline of your dick through your pants, shifting when you began massaging his ass. 

“You two are such sluts,” Chan laughed. “Go to Han’s studio and do that there. This is work time.” 

“Would you like us to film it for you, hyung?” you asked, holding Jisung close and both of you looking at him. “We can watch it together later.”

He hesitated, paused over his work before saying, “If it comes to mind…”

You and Jisung giggled before leaving the studio. The exhilaration built back up following Han down the hallway to his personal studio. Your eyes raked up and down his body. He wore a longer shirt that hid his petite waist and lean figure from you. His pants were a big baggier, so you knew they’d be easier to slip off. The suppression you’d kept on yourself slowly unwound before you reached Han’s studio; it threatened to break through and pounce on him once you passed the threshold into quietness. 

“You have no idea,” Han brought you to him by the hand, a familiar lustful glint in his eyes, “How long I’ve been wanting this.”

“I think I have some idea,” you replied, hands sliding around his waist to his ass. You suddenly hated his pants and wanted them off. The thick material kept you from feeling the perky cheeks underneath. “The stuff you send me is a clear indication of that in my opinion,” you chuckled. 

“That’s only a fraction of it,” he said, leaning closer. “Trust me.”

He pressed his hands to your torso, their touch soft against your muscles and slid upwards. You cupped his cheek and brought him in for a kiss. It started with light smacks of your lips, the occasional flick of the bottom before being caught in between both. The teasing brushes of his tongue ignited something in you; your hands went down to his backside again, trying to feel for the curves you’d seen bouncing on toys for days now. His own hands went up your abdomen, tracing small patterns before reaching your chest. The brief touch of his cotton shirt to your bare stomach sparked you. Your kiss getting deeper, your hunger for him became more obvious. The strain in your shorts grew and pressed into the fabric, a small bump starting to form again. When you brought him closer, Jisung’s bulge pushed against yours and you both moaned. You held him more securely once his hips started grinding on you.

“Come here, baby.”

You sat down on the sofa nearby and he straddled your lap right away. Your hands on his thighs, you growled at the obstacle his pants became. Jisung, arms around your neck, brought you back in for another kiss as he continued rocking his hips. You caressed his thighs up and down, the tension in them flexing underneath the denim material. His cock pushing into yours, the heavy material weighing on your thin one, you couldn’t help humping him back. The faint scent of cologne stayed on his skin, becoming more obvious when you kissed down his neck. His body, lithe and slender, fit perfectly in your arms and responded to your touches right away. Minho was a lucky man. You’d be spent too if you had Jisung in your bed all the time. 

His grinding became more hurried when you reached underneath his shirt to the hardening nipples. You groaned listening to him whine at a particularly hard pinch, not out of pain but pleasure. When he bunched his jeans up to tighten around his groin, his bulge instantly became more apparent on his thigh. Thankfully, once you unbuckled and unzipped him, your hands fit perfectly inside.

“Hyung…” he breathed once your hands grabbed his ass over his boxers. You squeezed and pulled them apart to push some fabric between the two cheeks. The thin, smooth material made it easier to feel his tight hole. “Oh god…”

“Keep grinding,” you said, guiding him along your length.

He continued kissing you, tugging on your lower lip with a soft lick right afterwards. He pushed his narrow hips to yours in slow circles, the movement keeping you both together longer. His soft moans joined yours, the two of you unable to stop once you started. Someone could walk in right then, and you’d keep going. His body became addicting. The hardness of his body in your arms tempted you into feeling more than his ass. All the restraint you carried rushed through floodgates, and you wanted nothing more than to bend Han over the sofa arm, pants at his knees. The air shifted when you rolled Han into his back, and started sliding off his pants and shoes with them. Desire burned in his innocent eyes, and he couldn’t stop himself from grabbing his growing erection.

“No, no,” you said, gently pushing his hand away, “That’s my job.”

You rested between his thighs, laying on top of him as you went back to grinding. Hands above his head, Han surrendered himself over to you. You kissed up his body from hips to chest as you lifted his shirt to just above his nipples. His body twitched at the pleasure you were giving him; he couldn’t stop gyrating his hips to your throbbing cock. The constant friction between the two of you drove you wild. Every so often, you reached between you to rub him with your hand which made him squirm. He felt so good. You couldn’t get enough of him. You never could get enough of any of them. No matter which member you had, you always found yourself craving more and more. Han’s angelic moans, high and needy, became a song you could never forget. His hard nipples in your mouth became a focus point to his pleasure; you couldn’t stop yourself from nibbling and sucking them. You groaned into the wrinkled skin, your dick jerking in your shorts and boxers. When you knelt up, you held your boner down to keep grinding on the outline pressing into Jisung’s boxers.

“You look so pretty like this,” you groaned, taking in his long body lying beneath you. Arms still above his head, he’d crossed his wrists as if tied together and gripped the cushion at the end. “All needy and horny,” you slid yourself up and down his length before giving his tip a gentle rub. “I jerked off to those videos of you tied up and toys inside you so many times. I kept picturing it being me making you cum like that.”

“Me too,” he whined. “Too bad I don’t keep any here,” he grinned through another moan, “Then you could use it on me as much as you want.”

“But, my dick is just as good,” you said, trembling somewhat as you dragged your balls over his cock and back down. The smooth motion stirred the pot between you. A small black spot showed where his tip was, and that’s what you focused on. “Don’t you think so?”

“Hyung…”

“Yes?”

“Let me suck your dick, please,” he begged through a quiet voice. “I want you in my mouth…in my throat. I’ve been-been dying to suck you dry. Please…”

The mere act of him begging to blow you had you tugging your pants down. Excitement lit inside Han’s eyes as he positioned himself on the floor in front of you. The sight of him below, round brown eyes gazing up at you pleadingly and lips already parting, could not have been a prettier sight. He pulled your pants down to your ankles, running his hands up your thighs to the center of your boxers. Your thighs clenched at the light fingers grazing your inner sides, and you sighed when they slipped under the leg holes. Jisung pressed his lips right to your cock, brushing over the fabric and nuzzling the hardened shaft. Shaky breaths escaped you every time he reached the sensitive side of your tip and hum softly around it. His fingers continued massaging you, thumbs pressing to the perineum and your balls every so often. When he heard you moan particularly loud at this, he kept on doing it. He kissed down to them for a moment, giving a soft moan before coming back up. You gripped the cushion underneath you as you watched the younger member fondle and worship your dick. Once he found a wet pot, Jisung flicked his tongue over it. 

Then, he carefully pulled down the front of your underwear. You whined at the fabric sliding against your cock, springing it upwards towards Jisung’s face. The longing became clear on his face, but he didn’t dare put you in his mouth yet. Tongue poking out over his bottom lip, soft breaths ghosted over your tip as he began rubbing you in his hand. His smooth fingers grazed over the squishy head in each stroke, creating more tightness in your belly, and your body was on fire. The fact he kept himself positioned just under you, staring at your dick as he worked you, had you reeling for more. 

“Your dick is perfect,” he said, swallowing the saliva building in his mouth. “It’s big where it counts.”

“It’s not…not like that.”

“It is to me,” he replied with a laugh, smiling when you shuddered at a soft kiss. “It’s perfect for sucking just like Minho and Chan’s cocks.”

One hand holding the base, he used the other to languidly stroke you. You wriggled in your seat at the firm squeeze he gave both ends, and dug your nails further into the sofa. It was over when he started whirling the tip of his tongue on the tip’s edge in time with his strokes.

“You like that?” he teased, continuing to do it a bit faster.

“Yes, fuck yes,” you said between gritted teeth, the pleasure tight in your groin. “Keep going like that…There’s a good boy.”

Being called a ‘good boy’ struck a chord in Jisung and he slid you over his outstretched tongue. It went in so easily. You groaned at the light sensation of his tongue on the sensitive skin, rubbing the veins and thick head. Once he latched his mouth to your shaft, the both of you moaned together. You slipped a hand into his hair, dyed a grayish white and much longer, and simply held it as he went further. He held onto your thighs as his face planted into your lap, nose brushing your pubic bone and chin right underneath your dick. The pressure from his throat and his hollow cheeks tempted you into going further. You could sit there enjoying his mouth forever. The obscene slurping he did when he pulled you from his throat couldn’t have sounded better. He did not even withdraw completely. He kept you in his mouth despite the drool coming from the sides of his mouth. Whenever he did, he still kept the very tip in his mouth to spit over before going back down. Soft cries hummed around it, muffled by your thickness as you continued gradually sliding in and out of his mouth. He didn’t protest when you fastened your grip on his hair and held him in place. Your hips pushed upwards into his face, reaching his throat each time.

"Look up at me,” you said, angling him further down to see him teary eyed and messy. You took yourself out to tap your wet cock on his cheeks and mouth, the other not hesitating to lick at you whenever you hit him. “Greedy,” you smiled, pushing into his mouth.

He brought your thighs onto his shoulders and angled himself further downwards. You locked your legs behind his back and started using them to bring him closer. Unable to get out of your grasp, Jisung could only kneel there and take your cock in his mouth. His sucking lips became a toy to use. Tears filled the corners of his eyes each time you forced him to the hilt, holding him there several seconds as he choked and sputtered around you. Like before, you barely let him off you. You gave him a minute to breathe before pushing him back in with your legs, locking him in place with your thighs.

“You love this, don’t you?” you asked in heavy breaths, hand curling in his soft hair. You chuckled softly when he nodded in confirmation, sucking you even harder as an answer. “Good to know I have a good place to dump all my cum,” you shoved your dick fully to his throat again, “Because that’s just what you are, huh? A mindless cum dump for everyone to use, right?” He moaned again in agreement, shaking his head with you in his mouth and vibrating it with another moan. “I’d pump my load in your throat every night if I could.”

“Please…” he said, voice muffled by the inch he breathed again, lips connected by several strings of fluids. “Use my mouth whenever you want.”

“Does that go for your tight ass too?” you asked, smacking his face with your wet cock again. “Seeing you put all those dildos in your ass makes it so tempting.”

“Yes,” he said before letting you push back into his mouth. “Fuck my ass,” he muttered as you started fucking his mouth again. “Please, fuck my ass. I want you deep in me.” 

“Bend over the couch then,” you said, “And show me that pretty hole of yours.”

Getting onto the couch, Jisung yanked down his pants and boxers to his knees like you’d imagined. He arched his back and spread his cheeks apart, his hole clenching for something to grab. He sucked in a breath through his teeth when your tongue slid over it. Small licks around the entrance caused small whimpers and grinding into your face. You gave each cheeks a sharp smack and a hard squeeze as you rolled your tongue further and flicked it around. His entrance lubed, you wasted no time in sliding one finger inside, moaning at the walls swallowing you and the back starting to arch to meet it. You kept him still with one hand while your finger gently worked him open. Adding a second, you scissored the hole as you plunged knuckle deep. Jisung shook and held onto the sofa arm, face buried in the plush suede.

“Your dick…” Jisung said through a strained whine. “Please, hyung, can I have your dick now?”

“But, this is so much fun,” you sneered, adding a third finger that made him writhe. “Your hole is so tight and I love seeing how you react when I go deep like this,” you emphasized it by pushing all three fingers to his core and watching him moan into the arm. “I’ve grown to love teasing all our pretty bottoms,” you continued fingering him, pulling out to put your fingers in sideways and palm facing downwards. “You each sound so sweet when you’re under me.”

“That’s because you’re amazing,” he said with a breathy laugh, meeting your hand halfway. “I want you to ruin me like you did with Hyunjin and Innie.”

“Oh yeah?” You finally removed your fingers, leaving Han empty and wanting for a few seconds, “You want me to fuck you stupid too?”

“Yes, please!”

“Well, if that’s what little Hannie wants,” you kissed the edge of his ear, “Then hyung should be nice and give it to you, right?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he said hurriedly, feeling your tip resting on him.

You chuckled at his eagerness, loving the effect you appeared to be having on him. Chan would probably advise caution by now, since you could be discovered any second. But, how could you care about that when Han’s ass hugged you so tightly? The bumpy walls milked you in every stroke, and it became harder to maintain control over yourself. Having him massaging your length, his high-pitched moans mingling with the sounds of skin slapping skin, made your mouth water. You forced yourself to focus on Jisung: running your hands up and down his back, grabbing his hair to pull his head back or smacking his tight ass in hard slaps. The small bits of pain seemed to make Jisung moan louder, and become more desperate. So, you dragged your nails on his skin, not too hard but enough for him to feel it; you spanked his ass until it was a light pink color.

Jisung became more desperate when you pulled him to your chest and reached around his waist. He really was hard. You could barely squeeze it at times, working it with only your index and thumb. Jisung became a moaning, mindless mess as you pleasured him. Every time your hand reached the base, your dick went fully inside him. This drove the already sensitive Jisung even further into bliss. Precum spilled from the tip, and you used it to lube him up. The slick sounds matched your snapping hips, working alongside the moans escaping both of you.

“Minho-hyung is so lucky,” you said in his ear, jerking and fucking him harder. “Getting to-to fuck you like this every day.”

“You-You can too!”

“Oh yeah? I can?”

“Yes, yes! However you want! Wherever!”

You put this to the test. After a bit of time on the couch, you manhandled him onto the floor where you ripped off his pants and lifted his legs into the air. Han clawed at the floor, at the bottom of the couch and his chair nearby as overwhelming pleasure took over. Sensing his orgasm, you didn’t deny it from him. You pumped his dripping cock as you kept going, watching in awe as he quivered and whined in his climax. Thick, hot droplets leaked from the head, mixing together as you continued stroking him, and went over your fingers. He used the end of his shirt to muffle the loud, suffocating cries your cock produced. As he settled down, chest rising and falling in every breath, you didn’t stop. Like with Hyunjin, a hard orgasm was of no significance. You’d finish when you both felt like it.

“Fuck me here, hyung!”

“Fuck me over there, hyung, please!”

Anyone who watched might wonder who’d ended up in charge. Han pointed wearily to places in his studio where he wanted you to bend him over: his desk, his chair, the other side of the couch, and even over his producing equipment. You couldn’t say no. He’d become as equally addicting as Hyunjin. By the time you both finished over the record deck, he was pumping out smoke. Watching him wearily bounce onto your hips, you couldn’t handle it anymore. 

“Get down there,” you ordered quickly, starting to jerk yourself quickly, “Get the fuck down there and open that mouth.” 

The sight of his mouth open, tongue sticking out close to your thick head, finally brought you over the edge. It hit you hard, making every nerve in you vibrate and stiffen as it pushed through you. Everything felt hot, your breath being constricted from the blast. Your cum shot right into his mouth, coating his tongue and splattering his mouth when you missed. Whenever he thought he’d miss a drop, Jisung licked the line leading to the hole and sucked it out for you. Your dick suddenly became sensitive to his hand and mouth, and your body became weak from the exertion. Jisung continued licking you from top to bottom, sucking whatever beads remained until he was sure he’d gotten it all. 

“That was amazing,” he breathed, finally laying down on your chest on the couch. Your body felt like jelly. You might’ve just gone through a super deep tissue massage, making you light headed and floating. “So much better than I thought it’d be.”

“Thanks,” you breathed, catching your breath. “I didn’t think I could-could do that again.”

“I didn’t think I could either,” he replied, snuggling close to you. He reached around for tissues he kept underneath the couch for emergencies, and you started cleaning each other off. “I’ve only ever done this with Minho.” 

“You two must have something really special then.”

You saw him smile fondly at the thought. “We do,” he said. “He keeps me grounded when I start floating away. I never feel anxious or worried around him. He makes me happy.” 

“That’s good.”

“Like how Chan makes you happy.”

Not this again. “What Chan and I have is the same as everyone else.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirked, “Tell that to the shadow at the door.”

“Huh?”

You could just barely see him, but instinct told you it was Chan. By the profile and muscled chest sticking out slightly, you recognized him. If you didn’t feel so drained, you’d go to him. He’s likely rock hard, if not already spent from listening at the door. But, you felt too content with Jisung in your arms to do anything about it. He’ll likely text you about it later, or bring it up the next time you’re alone. 

“He really likes you,” Han said, pulling up his boxers. “I can tell from how he looks at you.”

“He looks at all of us that way.”

“No, with you it’s more flirty and loving than fond,” he came back and cuddled against your chest, wrapped in your legs. “Minho looks at me that way sometimes, when he thinks I’m not looking. He’ll be watching me doing something, and when I look up, he turns his head. Chan does that with you.”

“It’s just sex, that’s all. We’re just horny for each other.”

No, it wasn’t that. It was far from that. Bahng Christoper Chan made you more seen than anyone else. He never left you behind or made you feel insignificant. When you were together, your connection flowed so freely and easily. It wasn’t awkward with him. Yes, your sexual tension will eventually boil over, but you hoped it was more than that for him. 

“Keep telling yourself that, cutie,” Jisung said, kissing your cheek softly. “Ugh, I’m starving now.” He grabbed his phone, “I’m going to see if they’ll bring us something. You know, to repair the emotional damage they caused with their rejection.”

“Of course. It’s only right.” 

Right when Jisung called Chan, a phone rang from behind the door. Then, the shadow disappeared. 

****

A/N: Ooof, YN is just blowing through these men, isnt he?? haha get it?? sorry...Please reblog and like!

[boobi-boy]

I hate the Noel Gruber transfemme headcanon SO muchhh.

Disclaimer: You can headcanon this all you want I just disagree!

Noel doesn't want to be A girl, he wants to be THAT fucked up girl. He invented a character that he romanticised and wanted to be. His monologue was about how he wanted 'bad love', quoting that those who have 'never felt the ecstasy of betrayal know nothing of ecstasy at all'. He wants to hurt, just to feel something.

Noel was bored, poor, and lonely. He longed for love. I think people miss the idea that Noel is a commentary on what under representation/misrepresentation of marginalised communities does to the people in those communities. He says that he was the only gay man in his school. Gay men are not properly represented in media, so the ones he saw in film/TV were probably oversexualised and sidelined. He believed that he had to move to another country to achieve his dreams of love (though he never explicitly states that as being why he was saving up to move to France, but given that he is 'the most romantic boy in town' and is very fixated on romance we can only assume).

To me, it seems like he internalised the idea that straight people get to have relationships whilst he stood by and watched, playing into the twink persona to be more digestible to the small town people that surrounded him. So, he wanted to be the girl that all the boys wanted. He wanted to be something more than the guy who works at the Taco Bell. He submerged himself in this world where he was fuckable (because he was a ruthlessly horny teenager) and attractive to men, and, to him, that was a woman whom they could use (a further implication towards Noel being intensely influenced by the media he consumed, since his monologue is, like, 50% about a movie he likes). He doesn't want to be a woman, he wants to be Monique Gibeau.

So, what I mean is that just saying he's a trans woman erases all of that and makes his character so shallow. He stops being the romanticist who longs for a love that he fears nobody will ever offer him, he just becomes a woman. This contradicts the fact that he clearly doesn't know the first thing about womanhood and the fact that he's a gay man who lacks the community and queer joy that other people who live in more urban areas have access to, being told by his mother that he should 'blend in' rather than feel pride.

[eunxhan]

Ꮺ Anon Requested ⨾ Polyamory/harem relationship with head over heels bottom subs,, one is a cute shy guy who loves m reader so fucking much he doesn't mind getting cucked and stuff as long as it pleases reader,,another one is a hot sexy model who's very proud of his body, always taking care of himself so you'll praise him when you fuck him, taking care of his hair well so you can easily pull them,,, kinky sub who's into wild plays, totally devoted to reader and would do literally anything like damn.. Another cold aloof kind of man,, people are intimidated by him and he's all strong and one man army stuff.. Yet when it comes to reader he's just a mess like damn,, all these pretty, smart, strong subbies also has reader's personal brand on his skin,,, they're so head over heels they do anything for reader's acknowledgement,,,

Ꮺ Eun Replies ⨾ Oh my, It is lovely to see my sweets still active. I have been thinking about this entry the moment I came back in this platform. How I've missed all of you.. I did wrote them separately but I decided to write and post another where they all meet in the future. But anyways, what should we name these three?

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Ꮺ Disclaimer — NSFW.

Reader ⨾ MALE. YOU/YOUR.

Words used ⨾ 1578

Links ⨾ My Navigation

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Let's say, you're an average guy with a typical 9 to 5 job. You couldn't care less about what anyone has to say or do to you, yet three men managed to catch your interest. One of them being Shy!sub. It's not like you guys have been together since childhood; you only met during middle school.

Shy!sub is incredibly shy and easily embarrassed. He tends to blush a lot, especially around you. Even the slightest touch or intimate gesture from you can make him flush red.

Shy!sub is used to your rantings while playing with him, and sometimes, you being a little shit happens to take your anger out on him during your calls. He never says or complains about it; he just listens or sometimes even apologizes to you.

Shy!sub enjoys playing video games with you, even if he's not very good at them and you call him out for jt. He just finds it relaxing and a great way to bond with you. He often cheers you on during your gaming sessions.

Not only does he enjoys gaming, Shy!sub has a secret love for romantic movies. He often watches them when you're not around, dreaming of the day you and him will have your own romantic story.

Shy!sub looks at you as if he's admiring a piece of art, even if you're just there yelling and getting mad about something ridiculous. You can tell that he wants something else. But if you call him out on something, Shy!sub hates confrontations and avoids them at all costs. He would rather keep the peace than engage in an argument, even if it means holding back his true feelings.

Shy!sub is the type of person who's too soft for people like you to handle. He does your chores because he knows you're exhausted from your job or school, and even cooks for you.

Shy!sub enjoys cooking for you, as he sees it as a way to show his love and care for you. He often tries out new recipes, hoping to impress you with his culinary skills. If you point something out or compliment his cooking, be ready to see him almost everyday in your kitchen.

He acts more like a boyfriend than a best friend. One call of his name, and he's dashing towards you like a loyal dog ready to do what you ask. With him basically living with you, Shy!sub can sleep easily. He is afraid of the dark and often sleeps with a nightlight on. He sometimes asks you to sleep with him when he's feeling particularly scared.

Shy!sub never admits this but he secretly loves it when you get angry, as it shows your passionate side. He often provokes you, hoping to see your fiery temper.

When both of you started to have some intimate moments, Shy!sub got even more embarrassed but he never stops trying to tease you with his every move. He basically lives with you now from how much time he spends with you. Everything escalated quickly when you got home and saw him wearing something he normally doesn't wear.

Shy!sub looks so damn adorable in his light bubblegum pink lingerie, but you decided to keep it in your pants and let him explain what he was doing. You could tell he was about to burst out crying when you walked in on him.

—

Shy!sub's eyes widened as he realized you had caught him in his new attire. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his heart raced, fearing the worst. The lingerie, a gift from a secret admirer, was supposed to be a surprise for You. But now, with you standing in the doorway, the moment had been ruined.

You, on the other hand, couldn't help but admire the way the lingerie hugged Shy!sub's curves, accentuating his hourglass figure. The sight of Shy!sub in such a delicate and feminine ensemble stirred something deep within you—a desire he had never felt before. But he knew the time was not right to act on it.

"It's... it's for you," Shy!sub managed to stutter, his voice trembling. "I wanted to surprise you. I thought you'd like it."

"Wow, I've never thought I would see this coming from you. Someone who is known to be easily embarrassed over everything." You could see the vulnerability in Shy!sub's eyes as you reply to him. It was a rare sight, and it tugged at your heartstrings. You knew Shy!sub's affections ran deep, and you couldn't bear to see him so distressed. So, with a smile, you stepped forward and gently placed a hand on Shy!sub's cheek.

"You look amazing," You said, his voice soft and reassuring. "And I appreciate the thought. But remember, you don't need to do anything to impress me. I love you just the way you are."

Shy!sub let out a shaky breath, relief washing over him. He leaned into your touch, grateful for your understanding. The moment, though awkward, had brought them closer. From that day on, You began to see Shy!sub in a whole new light. Your words and gentle touch calmed Shy!sub's nerves. The tension in the room shifted, and a new energy filled the space. Shy!sub's heart fluttered as your hand lingered on his cheek, your thumb gently caressing Shy!sub's soft skin.

Emboldened by your acceptance, Shy!sub leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss. It was a tentative move, a test to gauge your reaction. But you responded with a hunger that surprised them both. Your lips met in a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing and exploring each other's mouths. Shy!sub's hands roamed your body, feeling the contours of your muscles through your shirt. Your hands slid down Shy!sub's back, cupping his rear and pulling him closer.

The lingerie, once a source of embarrassment, now became a symbol of their growing desire. The soft fabric rubbed against your body, igniting a fire within you. Shy!sub could feel your arousal pressing against him, and it sent shivers down his spine. His mind were somewhere else as he softly groans in your ears, his mind tells him to beg you to do something more to him.

You both broke the kiss, panting and flushed. Your eyes were dark with desire, and Shy!sub's lips were swollen from your passionate embrace. The room was filled with a palpable tension, a promise of what was to come.

"Darling," Shy!sub whispered, his voice heavy with need. "I want you. I've always wanted you." he whined at the end. You didn't need to be told twice. You scooped Shy!sub into your arms and carried him to the bedroom, which made him more excited.

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Confident!sub, a charming and flirtatious individual, utilizes his natural charisma and wit to captivate those around him. Easily drawing in his audience, he leaves them craving more of his company. His tactics to garner attention, however, are solely to attract the cameras. When it comes to you, his dearest, he's wholly devoted.

His sarcastic nature and high tolerance levels add an alluring challenge to his persona, making him even more magnetic. For you, though, his sarcasm serves as a playful means of aggravation.

Confident!sub is confident in his physicality, maintaining his desirable physique through rigorous workouts. Brands and designers clamor for him to be the face of their new products, well aware of his pickiness when it comes to endorsements.

In his pursuit of physical perfection, Confident!sub adheres to a strict regimen of body care. His routine, from head to toe, takes a full three hours, with shower time not even included. If you need the bathroom while he's in there, you'll have to resort to forceful measures.

During his photoshoots, Confident!sub teases you with his movements and poses. He'll gaze hungrily at you, performing his job with you as his little assistant, always present in the room. If you're absent, his temper flares. So, sad to say that you're always with him in and out.

A possessive streak emerges in Confident!sub when he spots you admiring other models. With him in the room, half-naked and expecting your adoration, he takes offense at your gaze wandering to less attractive individuals. If you curse at him for his tantrums, his anger intensifies, believing you should have been fixated on him.

Confident!sub is unfiltered in his communication, voicing his thoughts at any given moment. Be it day, night, place, or time, he'll share his uncensored musings. With a bored expression, he'll casually mention desires like you satisfying him behind a door post-shoot or gripping his hair. One time while you were having breakfast, he mumbled something about how he dreamed about you pounding him for a photoshoot.

Despite his outward confidence, Confident!sub harbors insecurities deep down. He worries that one day, his looks might fade, and he'll lose the adoration he currently enjoys. So with you having around him, he dares not to let you go. He hates it when you look at other models that he finds intimidating. Whenever you reassure him about his insecurities, expect not getting out of the bedroom for atleast two days.

Confident!sub hates being touched by strangers. He becomes uncomfortable and edgy when people he doesn't know try to touch him. He's only comfortable with you touching him. You should be lucky that someone like him allows you to touch him, his words not mine.

——

After a long and tiring photoshoot, Confident!sub was ready to unwind. With his manager having rented a hotel room for him, he of course invited you to join him, knowing full well what he had in mind. You, aware of Confident!sub's intentions, eagerly accepted the invitation.

In the privacy of the hotel room, Confident!sub wasted no time in expressing his desires. You pinned him against the wall, his hands roaming your body with a hunger that could not be satiated. With you, equally aroused, gripped Confident!sub's hair, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

Confident!sub's hands slid down to your body, undoing your pants with a swift motion. He wasted no time in freeing his own arousal, rubbing it against yours before he could let you rub against his entrance. With a swift thrust, you entered him, filling him with your length.

The room was filled with the sounds of him screaming your name and the wet sounds. Confident!sub's moans echoed off the walls, a testament to his pleasure. You, gripping onto Confident!sub's hair, praised him for his skill and good looks, encouraging him to continue his plea.

Confident!sub, driven by your words, moving his hips at the same pace as you with a fervor that was almost animalistic. Your hands gripped on his hips, pulling him closer with each thrust. Him, lost in a sea of pleasure, could only hold on for dear life, his moans mingling in the air.

As you both reached your climax, Confident!sub's moans grew louder, your thrusts becoming more erratic. Him, gripping onto you tightly, felt his own release building. With a final thrust, you both reached, your bodies trembling with the force releasing.

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Intimidating!sub, a formidable figure with a history in the military, bears scars on both his face and body. His imposing physique and commanding posture are enough to convey his cold and strict demeanor, deterring others from approaching him. Even children and pets are frightened by his aura.

Despite his chilling exterior, Intimidating!sub has a soft spot for his beloved. At the mere sound of his name, spoken by you, his defenses crumble. He prefers to reserve his genuine smiles for private moments, sharing them only with you.

In terms of protection, Intimidating!sub is unparalleled. His presence alone is enough to deter potential aggressors, as if he were a guard dog watching over you. His menacing appearance suggests he'd defend you with ferocity, ready to "bite" anyone who dares to bother you.

In private, Intimidating!sub reveals a sensitive side. He cries during movies or deep conversations, seeking your comfort. With his head resting on your chest, he finds solace as he weeps, trying to express his feelings or explain the emotions triggered by a film. He's known to shed tears privately if his actions upset a child or pet.

Intimidating!sub is an intellectual powerhouse, capable of answering nearly any query and solving complex mathematical problems in a matter of seconds. He's like a human calculator, with an uncanny ability to memorize information. This makes outings with him effortless, as you need not consult your phone for calculations or searches.

Eager for your affection, Intimidating!sub leans on your shoulder, a subtle request for attention. He demands your love, regardless of your current engagements. If he's bold enough, he'll wake you to share a tender gaze.

Embarrassed by his nocturnal desires, Intimidating!sub awakens from wet dreams, seeking solace in the bathroom. If he gathers the courage, he'll attempt to rouse you, his eyes pleading softly.

——

After Intimidating!sub woke you from your slumber, you noticed the flush on his face, a testament to his embarrassment. A soft whimper escaped his lips, "Please help me with this..." Your eyes followed his gaze downward, where you found his hardened length, throbbing and grinding against the material of his pants.

The sight was too enticing to ignore, and as he offered you a small, tender peck on the cheek, you decided to give in to his desires. You guided his hand to release his length from its prison, letting it spring free. The tip glistened with pre-cum, a clear indication of his arousal.

Intimidating!sub's eyes locked onto yours, pleading for your touch. You obliged, wrapping your hand around his shaft and beginning to stroke him gently. His breathing hitched, his face contorting in pleasure. You teased him, speeding up and slowing down your strokes, drawing out his pleasure.

As you continued, Intimidating!sub's body grew more tense, his hips bucking involuntarily. You could sense his impending release, and you leaned in, taking his length into your mouth. The sensation of your warm, wet mouth enveloping him sent him over the edge.

Intimidating!sub cried out your name, his body trembling as he came. You swallowed his release, showing no signs of discomfort. When you pulled away, he collapsed onto the bed, his body slick with sweat.

You climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, and lowered yourself onto his still-hard shaft. He gasped, his hands gripping your hips as you began to ride him. The intimacy of this moment, with the dominant figure now reduced to the bottom, was intoxicating.

•◦✦────•◦ᘡᘞ •◦────✦◦•◦•

@𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑿𝑯𝑨𝑵. Do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and/or confirmation.

[moldybonessmell]

"Deadpool and Wolverine": queercoding analysis of Poolverine in the movie

// SPOILERS

//Disclaimer: This is NOT a hate post to Vanessa/Wade shipp, but if you ship them, this post is probably not for you.

I've seen a few queerbaiting allegations and, frankly, don't agree with them. Now I'll explain why.

Starting with the fact that movie begins as a typical reasoning for a character to get a new love interest: we find out Wade and Vanessa broke up after roughly 7-8 years together.

Either we don't know (or I just don't remember lol) for how long they've been separate, but it was enough time for Vanessa to get in a new relationship.

And we know that the reason for this breakup is the core differences between the two. In the previous movie they wanted to get a child and Wade's entire motivation was based around Vanessa. In this movie tho, it seems like even if Wade is still not completely over breakup, he seems to be compliant with the fact they are not together anymore. You would expect Wade to go and do something silly to Nessa's new guy, but he doesn't. He respects her decidion.

Wade has more of an existentioal crisis than just hurting from the breakup. So I would assume he's not over because he feels like he messed up and keeps giving sad puppy eyes holding on this romantic relationship with Vanessa. Tho they are still soulmates and friends no matter what.

I don't know about you, but for me this exposition doesn't look like a foreshadowing of Vanessa and Wade getting back together. Vanessa is happy and self-actualised on her own, even if Wade is not.

I don't see Wade trying to change as an act of trying to get back with Vanessa. He reacts like this because his family member pointed out his flaws.

Secondly, the only other "hints" for a relationship between Wade and Vanessa is him remembering how they kissed and in the end Vanessa holding Wade's hand. Which, let me point out, is not a typical trope to show characters are back together. You know what's typical? A KISS! Which never happened btw.

Not to be this person, but we all know Disney/Marvel haven't got the balls to show a canon queer relationship. So the only "hints" for Vanessa/Wade seem to either read as platonic, or purely as an attempt of Disney to be like !look! female love interest!.

Now, other important part. If you really think about it, referencing the first part of the post, the movie follows an enemies-to lovers romantic movie formula:

(optional) breakup with previous partner;

annoyance first (previous deadpool movies);

admiration upon actual meeting (even if Wade acts cocky, when you listen to him telling the story about how his universe's Logan saved Laura, you can clearly see he adores the hero, who, as we know, is relatively similar throughout multiverse. Wade knows this Logan has the same morals as other ones, hearing how he regrets not being able to help his x-men);

"having to" go on an adventure/quest together even tho they are annoyed at each other;

enemies bickering and fighting because they have differences (which are actually similarities between the two which drive them insane when they see this mirroring);

the breaking point and confrontation (the Logan monologue in the car scene);

*the close proximity tention* hate fucking as a spicy way to get over the argument (in the car scene they are shown to fight just for the sake of letting out steam);

the cold period when characters ignore each other because they are still pissed (when Laura got the two to her base);

getting over it and working together, trusting that the other got their back;

saving the world with the power of love brotherhood with romantic soundtrack on;

both staying alive and having a heart-to-heart conversation;

one wants to leave, but the other stops them (usually it would be followed up with a kiss but oh well);

officially meeting a parental figure of one of the characters and moving in together as in an established relationship.

I don't think I'm delusional if I say I haven't seen brotherhood media (ones without queerbaiting or actual siblings) that would follow this formula. But I did see romantic storylines.

All in all, Wade and Logan go through a development and establishment of a relationship. And I'm not even talking about the obvious "one being there when other lost everything and giving them a new family and home".

In the movie there are so many romantic tropes of these CANONICALLY QUEER CHARACTERS, which make it safe to assume that queercoding is in fact happening. I would argue about it if both of them were straight in the source material, but this is the best and most important part, they are not :)

And this is why "Deadpool & Wolverine" is actually a romcom. Thank you for reading!

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Simon Riley NSFW hcs ♡

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Two lovely people asked for my NSFW Simon headcannons and I'm happy to provide!!

Just a disclaimer, these are my headcannons. If you have ones that are totally different, that's okay!

He's fictional and can be whatever you want him to be <3 (except a rapist. We don't do that here.)

If you have any COD thoughts or requests, my inbox is open!!

~ Fi 🐝

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I'm a soft!Simon truther until death.

There's not a single reality in which I can see him ever being too rough with you, let alone hurting you.

First of all, he has no fucking clue what he's doing. He's maybe had sex 2-3 times in his life and I don't think any of them were memorable or good.

I'd wager that all of them were hookups, encouraged by other soldiers to "let off steam". But Simon just can't do it, it feels so wrong. To give himself so fully to someone he doesn't even know.

There needs to be an emotional connection in order for him to feel comfortable and good. He needs to trust and love this person before he can do anything with them.

It's gonna take a while for him to open up, but once he does everything is smooth sailing.

(I also don't think he masturbated excessively. He probably jerked off, everyone gets horny, but especially if we say he's on antidepressants, his sex drive is pretty low. He's either too tired or just doesn't care)

Your first time together was fueled by a, not so uncommon, make-out session on his couch. It'd usually end with you grinding on his thigh or rubbing yourself over his clothed cock until you both reached a satisfactory end.

Simon thinks he could live an entire relationship with only sticking to dry humping, but in reality he's just terrified of the intimacy of real sex.

It's not too romantic, none of that rose petals lit candle stuff. It's not that Simon hates all of that, but I just think it'd be too much for the first time.

He's already so nervous (so are you probably if we're honest) and all that extra stuff would overwhelm the fuck out of him.

(He will spoil you with rose petals and candles another night, even if it just ends you with you falling asleep in eachother's arms <3)

Eventhough it's soft and sweet, you're both still very horny and basically rip the clothes off of the other.

Foreplay is important!!! (For all my girlies who don't drip down their thighs)

Not only for you but for him too. Even if he's rock hard already, he wants to enjoy himself, maybe be a tease. He will always make sure that you're okay and ready (and so will you bc he deserves it).

Would literally eat you out to calm himself down. He probably has fallen asleep while licking your pussy, it's his personal meditation.

Your taste, the way you feel on his tongue and the fact that he was two perfectly good pillows wrapped around his head made it easy for him to nod off.

Also, he prefers it hairy. (Fight me.) (pls don't)

I know it's cliche but he's like 2 seconds away from just coming inside of you the second he pushes in. Not only does he feel good but when he looks down he sees you and he could cry from how happy he is. He just loves you so much.

Can we please put the "You only take half of him" bullshit to rest??? Thank you. We all know Simon as BDE but let's keep it on the real side okay. He couldn't give less of a shit if you can take him to the hilt or not.

(Some gals physically can't bc if your vaginal canal is too short, then it's impossible. You don't want a bruised cervix, so don't be stupid) I do think when he's more comfortable about it and a little more desperate and rough, he'll play into the size kink.

He probably has a huge size kink anyway but he would never make you feel bad if you couldn't take all of him. (Especially if you're giving him head bc let's be real that thing is not going down no one's throat okay)

He has the prettiest moans. I JUST KNOW IT. they're more throaty and deep but they sound good. I honestly don't think this man is capable of whimpering (like physically. Not with that smoker lung) sorry babes.

Simon isn't too loud, but just enough to make you that much hotter. He will try to pull more moans out of you, like a little challenge for himself.

NONE OF THAT "10 rounds Riley" SHIT. (Have any of y'all ever had an orgasm before like?? Who the fuck is going ten rounds??? Not me that's for sure lmao) it really all depends on your guys' mood and neediness on that day.

I do think he can and wants to go a couple of rounds but it's probably more on the rare side and never more than 4.

He knocks out immediately. He's always tired anyways.

I think his favorite positions are missionary, prone bone, and cow girl. He likes the closeness, wants to feel every part of you and kiss it like his life depends on it.

The further you are into your relationship, the more new stuff you can try out. He's always gonna be hesitant at first but if it's not too out there he'll try it.

Simon will tell you if something is a hard no for him and he expects you to respect, just as he would for you.

Would 100% make you ride his face. Wants to he smothered in it okay. (Simon said sit, so sit.)

Simon would be down to tying you up (one condition; you're never tied to anything. In case of emergencies)

You won't get him to be tied up though, that's a real hard no.

I think the closest you'd get to a submissive Simon is if you order him around.

He's sitting on his knees before you and you tell him exactly what you want him to do (one thing Simon Riley can do is follow orders) and he'll pretend to let you be in control and maybe you are for a while, but deep down he's always in control (not necessarily sexual or possessively, he just needs the security)

He loves to get head (not as much as giving it tho) but he will never ever force his cock down your throat, even if you begged him.

He can't do it, won't do it. Has he had the urge and fantasies?? Sure, but it goes against everything he promised when you got into a relationship.

Sweetly suck on his tip and stroke the rest of his length and he's happy as a clam <3

His absolutely favorite thing is when you ride him in the morning. Just lazy and sloppy circles of your hips while you sit on top of him. He loves the sight.

Simon'll gently hold onto your hips and guide you if need be. It's even better if you're laying flush against his chest and the both of you are snuggled under the blanket.

Bonus; he loves to make-out with you. It's an unhealthy obsession that has led to too much lipgloss/lipstick ingested just bc the fucker couldn't wait 2 minutes for you to take it off.

Kissing you is his number 1 way to show you how much he loves you since words aren't his strong suit.

Needless to say, he's head over heels for you, and the sex is great. <3

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I hope you lovelies enjoyed it!

More of my works --> 💫

[aurae-rori]

DR RATIO ANALYSIS PT 3 BUT IT'S JUST GAY

Now, you might be saying - "Aurae, you've done part one, and part two, so why do we need a part three?" The answer is because of two things - one. I made a deal with the Tumblr Peoples that if one of my posts hit more than 50 likes I would do this analysis. Two. Mihoyo is making this shit canon. I CAN'T MAKE THIS UP. So, let's delve into my usual disclaimer, as we might have some new people joining us for the first time with my insanity.

I have been researching psychology personally for about six years, so although I am not a professional (crawling my way there through the education system. I will be one, one day.) I do have some experience with analyzing homosexuals. Psychology hours, my children. They don't call me "chronically cooking" for nothing. Maybe I should change my url to that...

NOW THAT MY LONG AHH DISCLAIMER IS OVER, LET'S GET INTO THIS! It's time to deconstruct these homosexuals like a modern airplane, because they might as well be taking off with how canon they are.

"It can't be canon," they say, but then Mihoyo DOES PAID SPONSORSHIPS WITH THESE FUCKERS BEING GAY. We've all seen the paid partnership edit. We've all seen the video where Aventurine has the audio of "nice rack" as he talks to Dr. Ratio. PAID SPONSORSHIPS. Now, if that piece of evidence isn't enough for you - let's dive into their actual relationship, which is just a HOMOSEXUAL MESS. I will be focusing more on how Dr. Ratio sees this guy as this is a Dr. Ratio analysis™, but hey, the crumbs.. we eat 'em all. Amen.

Let's start off (I say as I write this part three days later) about how people are like, 'Aven is Ratio's favourite idiot' WRONG. Ratio does NOT consider Aventurine to be an idiot and knows that he is smart and capable in his own right. While Ratio is book smart, Aven is extremely street smart and holds his own very well. Ratio does not consider Aventurine to be an idiot as he takes off his plaster head around him and actually indulges in his whims around him. This is a blatant showcase of fondness because although he is emotionally constipated and can't be affectionate through words without sounding semi-backhanded because he's never had true affection in his life, he showcases his love through actions rather than words. He's just bad at showing love, okay? But he does love Aven. Or like him, to some extent, if you don't want to see them as romantic, which is fine. However, no matter what you label their bond as, it's obvious that they care for one another.

Also, the fucking ZEST FEST that was 'keeping up with Star Rail'. He says, "wait a minute - MUTUAL?" which indicates that he has respect for Aventurine in the first place. He LITERALLY TOLD US that he respects Aventurine and he was commenting on Aventurine's playstyle & everything.. also, at the end, he was here because 'I appreciate this show's dedication to knowledge' - his TONE. Kudos to the VA because that was not convincing at all. Bro was NOT here for the knowledge, bro was here to be GAY!!! Also his little own bathtub couch. We all know Aven bought it for him. Trust, I am John Hoyoverse.

"The Charming Audacity" HUH? BRO? Okay this is hilarious to me because this is the first time that we ever really see them interact with one another, and we get absolutely bitchslapped in the fact that Dr. Ratio calls this guy's audacity 'charming'. That's GAY. That's HOMOSEXUAL.

Also, comparing him to a peacock.. a very beautiful bird.... Must I say more?

Now, the part that I really want to focus on is the part where he gives the Doctor's Note to Aventurine. This shit is important. And I agree with the people who are like - Acheron helped him. Because she did. She was a big part of it and she helped Aventurine get back on his feet in the void. Dr. Ratio is not his only reason to live, but the note, showing that someone will stay by his side? Showing that someone truly cares for him? Someone who's waiting for him when he get back? This bond that he has with Dr. Ratio isn't fake. He already has a starting point to get back to - an anchor to return to. Dr. Ratio is his anchor. Whenever he goes off to do crazy shit, Veritas Ratio will be there when he returns. Because Ratio is loyal. Ratio cares. He cared enough to almost jeopardize their plan to make sure that Aventurine was going to be okay. He cares so damn much about Aventurine that he decided that this man's emotional state after the fake betrayal was more important than all of fucking Penacony.

If you want an example of "I would let the world burn for you," it's Ratio. He's a romantic not in the traditional sense, but he cares and loves Aventurine so damn much it makes my heart hurt. "Do stay alive," he says, knowing that Aventurine struggles with living. Those three words mean the whole fucking world to someone who struggles with suicidal ideation and suicidal thoughts. Someone wants you to live. Someone wants you to stay. Someone wants you by their side.

Dr. Ratio cares. Let me say that again - he cares. He banters with Aventurine, tries to create an environment where Aventurine can feel a little bit more comfortable with the two of them, even in a place as dangerous as Penacony. He will put his own life on the line for Aventurine.

He cares. He cares so damn much. I hate gay people. They make me VIOLENTLY homophobic.

Dr. Ratio after expressing his care indirectly and complimenting Aventurine indirectly: Did I do it?

Aventurine, who has caught none of the hints:

Anyway, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

[tinybitsubby]

****Disclaimer: this is not my list. (meaning I don’t like/prefer/agree with everything on it)

Several months ago I was down some rabbit hole and found a message board where someone had asked a question about having a D/s oriented vacation and people responded. I went to visit it recently and it doesn’t exist anymore. I had copied it to notes to send to the Hubz at one point and thought I’d share it here and see what you all think of it. Thoughts? Ideas? Copy and pasted below.

——————————

Someone asked a d/s chat room ideas to turn a romantic tropical vacation into a major D/s getaway for those exploring D/s.

1. Start off on the right foot. Spank her ass right before the flight or drive so it’s uncomfortable to sit during travel. Maybe tell her to sit still when she keeps shifting in her seat.

2. Tell her that unless thr public can hear, just for this trip she must always address you as sir. Punish forgetfulness.

3. Make her kneel every morning.

4. Objectify her by shoving a few fingers deep into her mouth a few times a day. Call her good girl and watch her gag for a minute then wipe her runny eyes and move on like nothing happened. My wife/sub says this type of brief degradation flips her mindset so fast. She hates it but loves the complicated emotional part.

5. Since the owiest part of anal is the initial insertion, tell her that she will be announcing every single time she’s about to get in the shower so he can come to the bathroom in a minute. When he comes in she must lube up her clean asshole and degrade herself by holding her own ass open for him. He will sink his dick all the way in and hold it there while she tells him a reason why she deserves to take his cock up her ass. If she can’t think of a good reason, the dick stays in until she does. Not fucking her, just staying in there stretching her open. Then he rinses off and leaves so she can shower. An uncomfortable size of dildo (not plug) can be used instead if he doesn’t like to get erections and then let them fade. I’m not into anal except for the very subby headspace it creates. It makes me feel so vulnerable and it’s kind of painful. We did this on a trip and it became a true exercise in submission as I got more and more sore. When he sat me down to tell me this would happen, it really set the tone for the trip. Don’t discount this idea. Also Halfway through the trip we had anal sex which is rare for us and it made every shower insertion after that more uncomfortable and really upped our D/s. Seriously, try it, especially if anal is really not her thing. She’ll feel like such a good sub. You want her to feel like a good sub for submitting in ways that are uncomfortable. Please try this! PS If she loves anal, don’t do this, hahaha. PPS. Since we got home he sometimes says tell me when you get in the shower next and I know this will happen and it reminds me of our trip when we solidified our DS.

6. Bring an implement she doesn’t like and tell her she must ask for 10 hard strokes every day by a certain time. Obviously No anger or lectures just checking it off the to-do list. If she forgets and the time passes, she gets 25 or more instead. You should know Tears are ok in the D/s dynamic. If you’re flying and don’t want to take implements then you always have a belt or a brush.

7. Spit in her mouth every time no one is looking

8. Let her know before you leave that even if she’s a very good girl, there will be tears twice on this trip to remind her of her submission. Make her ask for one of the times and surprise her with the other. You get to choose what makes her cry. Don’t overlook the power of this emotional release for a sub. This secretly also teaches her to ask for an emotional release when she feels it could be beneficial to her mental state or the relationship.

9. Tell her she cannot cum until the third day of the trip. Then have lots of sex the first two days.

10. If you are leaving town, make her dress like a total slut

11. Bruises man. Give her some really good butt bruises and then spend time every day, poking pinching and spanking them. It keeps her hyper aware of her place. A 1.5” dowel from hardware can give bruises in just a handful of strikes without chaffing the skin too much like stingy implements do because they take too many strikes to get a bruise.

12. Tell her that on this trip, if she has an alcoholic drink in her hand, there will also be a plug in her ass. No exceptions. Going to order a drink with lunch? Go plug that ass before we leave. For added fun, you pick the size each time. Alternatively, if that’s not possible, you could just tell her that whenever your dick is going in her pussy on this trip, there will also be a plug in her ass at the same time. Or alternate days.

13. She’s doesn’t get to orgasm on this trip.

14. Tell her she will kneel and suck your balls every time you change clothes. “Sorry, you have to come back to the room with me because I’m changing into my bathing suit.”

15. Make her stay naked every minute you’re alone.

16. Call her trashy names.

17. Whatever you want to do to Dom her, whatever your desire or fantasy is, do that. BUT, tell her in detail hours in advance. A sub’s brain goes haywire when told something like this. “Look at me. Tomorrow I’m going to spank you very hard and you’re going to hold very still. I’m going to cum when I’m done but how I cum is going to depend on how well you take your spanking. If you can stay still I’ll just sink into your cunt and that will be that. But if I have to keep telling you to get back into position or keep your feet down I’ll cum down your throat and if I have to wrestle you at all during your spanking, I’m fucking your ass and continuing to spank it.” Or just tell casually with a smile you know after dinner I’m going to fuck your face and slap it hard every time you need to pause to breathe. Etc.

18. I’m jealous. I want a D/s vacation! Just stuff holes all the time. Anytime you think of it, put your fingers, dick or toy into one of her holes for minute. Let her know her body will be invaded over and over on the trip multiple times a day and occasionally during the night. Make sure you tell her to expect it because then her mind will be on it all the time.

19. Flirt with other women and make her sit quietly and smile. Maybe kiss one.

20. Fig her. Especially if you can’t spank because of noise. At least 20 minutes, the heat doesn’t peak until 15. If you’re flying and can’t take ginger, China Gel on your thumb is almost as good.

21. Bind her and make her wait patiently while totally bored. If rope is a travel issue, take some medical tape.

22. Get her pregnant

23. Clothespins. Use them a lot. Is she sucking your dick, put them on her labia. Are you fucking her, put them on her nipples. Are you spanking her, put a row of several down the skin of her tummy or back on her labia. They keep her on edge and feeling subby. I’m not kidding try them because the ache when they are removed is like nothing else. If she’s sunning by the pool, maybe there’s one hidden somewhere for a while.

24. Just fucking Dom her, use the time to make your own D/s dreams come true. She wants you to take control.

25. Fuck man this list is great but maybe only pick a few.

26. Give her a daily writing assignment if you have relaxing time. Give her a question that is hard to talk about and demand honesty. Better yet, both of you share.

27. Tell her she can’t say no on this trip. Goes without saying, but respect hard limits.

28. Make her wear dresses with no panties. Pull it up every time no one is looking. Smack her pussy, or finger fuck her or sit back and admire. Just mix it up. Fuck her before you go somewhere so she has to feel jizz running down her legs.

29. Make her skip a meal now and then to watch you eat

30. Randomly tell her to head back to the room and masterbate to orgasm. Or to only get really close to it. Give her a time limit.

31. Choke her out. Maybe she wakes up in a compromising position.

32. If she’ll be wearing bathing suits, only spank or strap her on one side. She’ll be miserable with all the counts on only one side and if anything should show, it will just look like she took a tumble or something with a bruise or welt on just one side. It’s the symmetry that lets people know what’s up.

33. If there’s a need for a punishment spanking on the trip, do it in diaper position. It’s intense because you can see her face. Make sure you’re ready to handle seeing her face during a punishment as some Doms just can’t handle it.

34. Tell her you won’t be touching her vag once on the trip. Her other holes will be used as you see fit daily. You can put a binder clip on her labia to hold it closed to prove your point.

35. Carve a souvenir scar into her.

36. Tell anytime she wants to cum she’ll have to pick between two things she doesn’t like first. Get her close to orgasm so she’s really needy and then say I want you to come but first A or B. If she doesn’t pick in 10 seconds, she gets both then back to the orgasm.

37. Pick a window of time each day that she cannot speak

38. Tell her she must wake you up with her mouth every day.

39. Take medical gloves and do cold inspections of her. Make her feel like an object.

40. No eye contact for the trip.

41. Dude just tell her this trip will be rough. Rough sex, rough spanking, rough manhandling. Just make things challenging for her and then get through them together. That’s all we subs want. We want to endure a hard challenge for you and then be called a good girl for enduring it. You get to be the guy setting up whatever challenge turns you on AND be the support system when it’s emotional for her. That’s all of D/s!!!

42. Edge her. You can do it or she can, but lots of random edging to keep her needy all day.

43. Golden showers.

44. Make all decisions for her. Tell her when to get up, when to sleep, when to use the bathroom, what to wear, order her foodand drinks without consulting her. Tell her when sex is happening and what type. If it’s too much, just pick one day where she can’t make a decision.

45. If you’ve never slapped her face, start on this trip. Maybe just a couple times at first and then build up to several times in a row during some form of sex. Require eye contact. Let her tear up and let her go through the range of emotions. While looking at you and enduring it, let her feel your support, but then slap her again. As a submissive this is for real an emotional growth as a couple and can be meaningful. Talk to her about it the next day. Tell her she’s so good for taking it in and you’re going to slap her again soon.

46. Spank her very hard right before the trip so the little spankings here and there actually hurt quickly. Wipe tears and give hugs. This hard and soft feedback at the same time feeds a sub like you wouldn’t believe.

47. Don’t let her sleep in pajamas. Always nude. She’ll get used to it.

48. Force too much Alcohol/weed into her and then discuss both of your darkest fantasies.

49. Slap that pussy every chance you get. Keep it just a little sore.

[katuschka]

Everybody's Got a Secret

Josh Kiszka x f!Reader

3.393 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings: This is filth!, mild erotic asphyxiation, unprotected penetrative sex, oral sex (both f and m receiving), light bondage, masturbation, dirty language, sub&bratty&cheeky Joshua, open relationships

Masterlist Taglist

My doors were always open, and no questions asked. Everybody’s got a secret, and in this particular case, in this time and space, his secret had my name.

No strings, no obligations. Both of us had those already somewhere else. Both in long-term relationships with other cocks that just weren’t always available… or able. Hence the arrangements were made and doors were opened…

When my husband was out of town, which happened more often than not, I spent my days in my downtown apartment, because I hated the big and quiet country house when he was not in it, playing his piano or keeping fit in his basement gym. Always a hopeless romantic, an old soul in a mature body, he made sweet love to me in that house. With his kids already raised and gone, he offered me a new chance, away from the abuse and sorrow that was my old life. He gave me an opportunity to pursue my dreams and a new home in that big, silent mansion. Always grateful, I cooked his meals and did the laundry there. 

And we both knew that it was not enough. I would do anything for that angel of a man. He couldn’t do everything for me. But that’s ok. Everybody’s got a secret, and he willingly granted me mine. I wasn’t delusional either, I knew there were other women… 

So, as long as he didn’t know the details, I could do whatever I wanted in my cherished hiding place, the only condition being that I pay my rent. Fair enough. More than fair. It was a place where I reigned, after all. The big house was my home only as long as he wanted me there, but that was it, that was the agreement, too. So I eventually learned to fend for myself in every way. That was our mutual goal. One day, I would be alone again. I was almost sure of that. But thanks to him, I would no longer be lost. 

It was a bit different with Josh. He had almost everything since the day he was born, and he gained even more as the years went by, simply because he was talented and brilliant and surrounded by his equals literally since the days he was still in the womb. He had people. He had love too, and they were almost a perfect match, save for just one tiny little thing. Josh was a shameless slut, always on a hunt for a healthy dose of naughtiness and depravity. Josh loved dirty fucking, he loved to experiment and he needed his fix from time to time.

His man just couldn’t force himself to do it. He only made love to him. He also didn’t have enough holes. Or meaty pillows. Not exactly Josh’s preference, but a welcome bonus when it just clicked. To keep things interesting, he said. That was when I entered the building…figuratively speaking, because I never EVER crossed the threshold of their house. Secrets don’t do such shit.

He knew about my existence, and that was ok, as long as he didn’t know my name or my face. The sentiment was mutual. He didn’t want to meet me, see me, acknowledge me. Ever. Josh made sure he wouldn’t. 

So, my doors were always open and Josh called whenever he needed. This time, my phone rang at 2 a. m..

It was a 45 minute drive from his place to mine, depending on the traffic. At night, it would be less, but still enough time for me to get ready. So, when he rang my doorbell at last, I answered in his favorite vintage slip dress, holding two glasses filled with wine. Like a valley doll. 

“Well, well, well, what brings you here at this ungodly hour?” I teased, watching him grin at me in return. 

“Stupid question, darling,” he answered, while running his finger gently down my bare upper arm. “The reason remains the same. You’re a comfort blanket for my dick, and I need you to do some ungodly things to it tonight.”

“That’s a lovely sentiment. So you need to have your dick comforted?” I snickered and handed him his glass and he nodded in appreciation, taking a sip without breaking eye contact, pursing his lips around the rim with the tip of his tongue sticking out just a tiny bit. He always did that when he wanted to communicate his neediness. “What happened? Trouble in paradise?” I cooed, while making room so he could enter.  

“Don’t ask, and I shall not lie, remember? But since you asked so nicely – no. I have had some trouble with certain lyrics. I need my muse. Will you help me?” He wasted no time, already making a beeline to my bedroom. Pausing at the door, he glanced back at me, fishing for the answer he didn’t need. Of course I would. 

“Always there,” I chirped again and stuck my tongue out at him playfully, following him without haste.

Pausing in the doorway, I leaned against the door frame and took a sip, watching him unzipping his fly already. He was always gorgeous, whether dressed in plain white cotton or embroidered organza. But preferably naked. Lean, but not skinny. Toned, but sweet. Bare like a statue…until he raised his arms up and I fainted. Always. 

“Eager, aren’t you! So no small talk today, I assume?” I was eager too, knowing what was coming. 

Always a tease, he rolled his hips lewdly and, glancing at me through the ridiculously long curtain of his eyelashes, he puckered his lips, inviting me to join him by the bed with a loud and playful smack. “It’s not a day, darling. We’ve no time to waste before the sun comes up and orders us to be elsewhere.” 

A fucking poet, sometimes spitting dreamy verses down at me even in between moans during the actual animalistic process of fucking, like a true artist that he was. I watched how he batted his eyelashes at me again. Ridiculously long, indeed… “Did you put some mascara on, Josh?”

“And if I did?”

I licked my front teeth in silent anticipation. He was needy and ready to play the mouse, which in return made me greedy and instantly wet. Meow! “Joshua! Do you want to cry tonight?”

After he took off the last sock, he flexed his shoulders and straightened, facing me completely; already stark naked and already completely hard, his second weeping head nodding at me, greeting me like an old friend. “I voiced a plea, and I gave you a hint. You’re the director tonight.”

The plan formed in my head the moment he called. Even before that, actually. I’d lie if I said that I didn’t care about what he did for a living and how. Watching videos of him performing was one of my favorite leisure activities when he was away and out of touch. It made the anticipation ever so sweet, because his stage presence was just as sensual as his bed behavior. I knew what he was capable of, while others only imagined. 

“Did you bring your payment with you?” The word payment was a deliberate, whorish choice, completely ok only because I was the one who started using it one day, and the only one allowed to use it. God forbid if I’d ever heard it leave his mouth. He’d have to dry hump the mattress instead, and let me watch his torments. He loved the whore in me, but alas! The only way to get a taste of it was to treat me with respect. Night-time calls meant that he would have to grant me one wish, often in the form of a prop.  At night, I was ALWAYS in charge, giving him what he wanted, but it was always delivered my way. 

This time, I ordered him to bring one of his beaded scarves he wore onstage. Now he pulled it from his man purse and placed it in my waiting hand ceremonially, like a cherished treasure, smiling at me with little sparks dancing behind his pupils. “Am I going to be tied up with this?” 

“Oh no baby, I have my handcuffs for that.” He watched me swirl the scarf around his head and tie it tightly around his neck, leaving one end long enough to tickle his left thigh. Swinging it like a pendulum, I let the heavily beaded end hit his throbbing cock with a faint tinkling sound. 

I reveled in watching his immediate reaction: his eyes widened and lips parted in shock. He quickly tried to hide it by darting his tongue out and curling it against his upper lip, but his heaving chest betrayed him. This was when he was at his cutest, figuratively or literally on his knees, but always too stubborn to give in entirely.

“See, I’m gonna use it as a leash, if necessary,” I explained and took a small step back to admire my work. “Don’t you like the idea?”

He narrowed his eyes at me and those plump lips curled up into that bratty grin again. “Oh I like the idea very much. I’m ready to be…bad.” 

“Bad,” I whispered,and circled him like my prey, which is what he essentially was. Hugging him from behind, I let my hands travel up his chest, grazing his right nipple with my fingernails while the fingers of my left hand closed around his throat. “Bad boys don’t whine,” which was exactly what he did when I applied a little bit more pressure. He tilted his head back and rested it on my shoulder, eyes closed, showing me how much he loved being under my control. 

“You look really lovely like this. Makes me think… You know what we haven’t tried yet?” I was now intentionally rubbing my lace-covered tits against the tense muscles of his back, whispering those words sultrily right into his ear.

“No…” It was but a hoarse whisper already. It was fascinating how much power his voice normally held, but I always managed to gag him with ease. 

“I'm thinking… pegging you from behind, doggy style. With this,” I tugged at the scarf demonstratively. He yelped, his knees buckled for a split second and his whole body shook as if from cold. He was stupendously aroused. I loved it!

“Yeah, exactly. Like a bitch,” I twisted the end of the scarf around my hand and tugged again. The most delicious whimper escaped his lips and I watched him wrap his right hand around his twitching cock, while the left one reached behind and rested on my thigh. He gave himself a few slow strokes, then slid the hand down to cup his balls. “Oh yeah, please, do that, I’m already aching…”

“I’m really glad you like the idea, baby, but not today. Another time.”

“Why not?” He turned around and tried to win me over with those puppy eyes, but I had a very clear vision in my head. It had occupied my mind so much that I already bought some new additions to my bedroom inventory, just for him. I grabbed the scarf again and drew him closer to me so that our lips were almost touching. I tightened my grip, holding the scarf right under the knot below his ear, and twisted my fist slightly. He swallowed with difficulty and his wide eyes glimmered with undiluted lust. I licked his parted lips with the tip of my tongue until his eyes rolled back. Only then I finally released him and he stumbled backwards.

“Because you wanted me to do ungodly things to your dick, not your ass. Now onto bed, chop chop.” I smacked his tiny, perfectly rounded ass and he obliged, climbing on the bed with exaggerated sway like a tomcat, performing just for me. He turned around then, and spread his legs, licking his index finger lewdly while he shook the end of the scarf with his left hand until the beads tinkled again. “M’waitin’,” he breathed out and moaned around the finger. Such a slut!

I took one more sip, stripped too, and joined him on the bed, climbing right in between his thighs, admiring his cleanly shaven treasure. “You have a truly beautiful dick. It absolutely deserves some profane treatment.”

“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it,” he responded, his voice shaking ever so slightly when I pressed my tongue flat to the underside of that gorgeous cock and licked a long stripe all the way up. I laughed. “So humble.”

“Darling, I’ve seen many cocks in my life. I know mine is awfully pretty.” 

“Hmm, how about you balls?” I cupped them gently, while crawling up to kiss him, tickling his chest with my hair.  

“Also exceptional.” He kissed me back, then pushed my head back down. 

“That’s why you keep them on full display all the time?” I bent down to lick around his areola before I sucked the nipple in between my lips, still refusing to go back down and suck on his cock instead, even though he bucked his hips up several times, giving me a clear hint how impatient he already was. 

“Flaunt…aaah…flaunt what you’ve got. God, you’re such a tease.”

His tone was dangerous this time. I looked up to meet his deadly, bratty stare. “You’re in no position to look at me like this.”

“Yes, I am. My thigh is completely wet from how your cunt already weeps for me.” He made another lewd gesture, putting his fingers in a V shape in front of his mouth and sticking his tongue through it at me, flickering it up and down. Yes, very suggestive. I’d love that. Continue and we’re both gonna get it. He usually got a warning first. 

“You’re a hoe, Joshua Michael.” I grabbed the scarf and pulled to the side. He inhaled sharply with a wheeze and looked daggers at me.

“Go on, I love high praises,” he spat. “Especially when they’re coming from your dirty mou…uuughn...” I didn’t let him finish the sentence. He would get what he asked for. Scrambling up as quickly as possible, I landed on my knees on each side of his head and sat on his face, effectively silencing him.  

And it was what he wanted. Grabbing my buttocks to pull me even closer, he instantly buried his tongue between my folds, making me gasp. I had to grab the headboard to keep myself from falling or hurting him as he enveloped my clit with his full lips and started sucking. This position was my Achilles heel and he got me there in no time. Two, maybe three minutes until my thighs started shaking. I looked down at him and he wiggled his eyebrows at me, before he closed his eyes and moaned loudly, as if he was eating the most delicious ice cream. Fucking tease. I inhaled sharply when he flattened his tongue and swirled it gently one more time around my swollen bud. The orgasm swept through me like an electric shock and I had to bite my forearm to muffle my scream. He was cruel, licking me through it and inducing more and more waves and aftershocks until I had to grab him by the hair and pull at it to still him. 

I creeped down his body, smearing my juices all over his skin and peppering his chest with kisses, before I straightened up again, hovering above him. “Tamed?” 

He looked up at me, ready to retort again, and finally saw the big silver hoop that hung from the ceiling right above my head. His eyes widened and sparkled with confused anticipation. “What’s that?”

I let out a satisfied exhale and smiled down at him. “That, my dear, is the surprise I got for you tonight.” I crawled towards the edge of my bed, opened the largest drawer of my bedside table and pulled out a silver chain with leather cuffs on each end. I let it fall on his chest. “Sit.” 

“What?”

“I said sit!” When he did, I pulled the chain through the hoop and told him to put his arms up. He was unnaturally silent all of the sudden, doing as told, and I fastened the cuffs around each wrist. When I was done, he just sat there, legs spread as I knelt between them, chest heaving and arms up, armpits glistening with sweat, just the way I wanted. He looked sinful. I admired this view so many times before, him reaching for those high notes or who knows what else. He would be reaching for pleasure tonight. First things first. I tugged at the scarf and pulled him closer to me, connecting our mouths in a searing kiss. He kept moaning as our tongues danced together. It made me even wetter. 

When I finally broke the kiss, I looked down at his cock, slightly reddened and rock hard, and ran my finger down his length. He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered. “Do something…please!” 

Finally, the magic word. 

He cried out when I put him in my mouth and swallowed him whole. I could hear the chain rattling but I couldn’t see, lying on my stomach and fully immersed in giving him pleasure. He cried some more, and moaned and groaned and whimpered as I kept bobbing my head up and down, up…swirling my tongue around his leaking head, and down…tickling his balls with the stuck out tip until I gagged. I stopped only when his hips started jerking upwards, telling me he was very close. I wasn’t done yet, not until I felt him in me. 

I sat up again and saw the smeared mascara under his teary eyes. “Oh my baby, so beautiful,” I cooed and caressed his cheek, smearing it even more with my thumb. He looked exhausted and pursed his lips at me. “Please,” he whispered. 

I finally straddled him, positioned myself and slid down. His mouth opened wide but no sound came out. It made me pause for a second, raising my chin in a silent question. “Won’t last long,” he breathed out, so I started slowly, rolling my hips languidly, while I watched him watching me. The room fell silent, only our synchronized breathing permeating the air.

He looked down at the scarf, then back at me again, his eyes full of wicked gleam. I threw it over his shoulder and tugged at it from behind, making his head tilt. His ragged breathing and his barely noticeable, but content smile made me feel high. The intoxicating smell of his heated body made me even more lightheaded.  I hugged him tight and traced my parted lips up his jugular as I quickened my pace. His moans broke the silence again and I followed suit. Running my hands up and down his back, I could feel droplets of his sweat trickling down my biceps. I never believed in heaven, but this was close. Even closer to hell, maybe.

He wanted to take control, but couldn’t. Not without his arms supporting him. He was completely at my mercy and when I leaned back on my arms to get a better traction, the head of his cock hitting my inner pleasure button made me cry out. It didn’t take long and the spasms of my second release made me clench around him. In my high state of mind, I nearly missed his moment. Only his high-pitched scream pulled me back to reality. I had barely enough strength in me to untie him at last. And then we collapsed on the pillows, completely spent and happy. 

We often cuddled afterwards, we always showered together, but he never stayed. The sun was already rising when he left this time. I buried my face in my pillow to inhale his scent that always lingered. Falling asleep to the sweet and heady smell of Chergui was great comfort in twilight hours. Many times, I imagined what it would be like to just rest my head next to his and drift away like that, with his messy curls tickling the tip of my nose. Someone else had this privilege. Someone who loved him, and thus deserved it. 

In the middle of the night, I was sometimes honest with myself, admitting to myself that I loved him too. But that’s ok. Everybody’s got a secret.

@its-interesting-van-kleep @takenbythemadness @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @ignite-my-fire @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @lvnterninthenight @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @sanguinebats @thewritingbeforesunrise @wetkleenex-gvf @lyndz2names

[endataraxia]

hey hatchet!! hope youre doing okay, could i request some angsty romantic headcanons between ticci toby and a gn!reader? maybe like if they argue about toby's behavior and whatnot

hey there darling! i’m actually doing great, and i hope you are too! i absolutely love the sound of this request, so here we fucking go (disclaimer i am not an expert on his MULTITUDE of conditions, which practically make up his whole person atp)

arguments about Toby’s behavior are not uncommon.

Toby was born with multiple diseases and disorders; though he doesn’t know his own past, you figure that if his parents did even a little less for him, he would be way worse off than he is now. in fact, you’re pretty sure this is as good as it could get.

but oh, there are so many things you simply do not love about this man.

his CIPA (congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis) prevents him from feeling pain, and as such he has not felt pain since he was born. as such, completely lacking the concept of pain and never remembering that others are susceptible to it, he is often a little too rough with you, not just in bed. sometimes, he grabs you just a little too hard, and it gets to you.

you know he is as dense as he seems, but just in case, you hope hard that he never realizes you’re slowly becoming distant from him. you simply can’t do it, not with his roughness and lack of reverence on your body.

and oh, this is just scratching the surface of his behavioral issues.

Toby is also diagnosed with BPD (borderline personality disorder). this is what you consider to be the worst part of his behavioral issues.

you had the misfortune of ending up as his favorite person (though in his defense there are not many others around him so his poor mentally ill brain pretty much has no choice).

you talk to the cashier at 7-11 for a millisecond too long? suddenly as you walk out, Toby is gone from where he was waiting for you and when you look back, the cashier’s gone too. but you know somewhere behind the store, the poor cashier’s blood is being spilled.

and even if you need just a small something from his fellow proxies, they’re not immune either.

though, you have to say, you prefer asking a random person instead.

because even though tim and brian may be punished by Toby, you feel like you are the one being punished the hardest.

he’ll give you the cold shoulder and guilt trip you and manipulate you.

it’s to the point you don’t think you know what a normal relationship feels like anymore. are boyfriends supposed to be loving? or are they supposed to scowl at you, go silent and cold the moment they notice you talking to someone else, even if it’s absolutely necessary?

and so you do the only thing you can do to rebel: argue.

you first start out gently, chiding him when he does something he’s not supposed to do. you correct him and explain to him why it’s wrong.

but you’re not sure if it goes through to him at all. you genuinely cannot tell, between his desperate apologies right after and the blatant repetition of his behavior.

for a while, it’d just been the apologies and repetition. though you disliked it, you soon came to realize that it was better than apologies, repetition and THEN arguments, guilt tripping and manipulation.

“why can’t you just love me for who i am? do you not love me after all? i was right all along. you’re desperate to get rid of me.”

and the truth is, you are.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 1.1

So disclaimer: I took screenshots instead of photographing my screen this time, but the quality of footage is a thousand times worse so the images are still mostly shit. But anyway, here we go :)

We're going to have to keep a tally on how many times they refer to their relationship in romantic terms. Less than a minute in, Paul has used the description, “great love affair.”

And John's right on his heels with “the sexual equivalent of . . . People in love.” So there's 2 already. Oh boy.

That opening montage of John and Paul just living for the light in each other's eyes should actually be the official music video for “I wanna hold your hand.”

Also I wonder how many songs they have about hiding. Someone's got to have a list somewhere right?

I adore the absolute lack of reaction to John manhandling Paul.

And then This Look. He's in love with him, ladies and gentlemen.

I remember seeing somewhere that this footage was literally right after they'd finished “she loves you.” Which was pretty recently after Bob Wooler, which was right after Barcelona. And if you're like me and you think that song is secretly about their relationship? If Paul's just been singing “she said you hurt her so, she almost lost her mind, but now she says she knows you're not the hurting kind. She said she loves you” at you, after all of that? Of course John's acting like a fucking puppy dog.

Poor George tally number 1

Excuse me??? John wants to live in the Beatle apartment instead of with his actual literal wife until Paul decides to move in with his girlfriend? What? He's so insane. Cynthia, you're lucky Paul's a fucking social climber.

I think it's indicative of two things that Paul said “screw secret girlfriends” while John happily went along with secret wives. One: different levels of security in masculinity (John doesn't have gay eyebrows etc) and two: different relationships. Jane and Paul's relationship was a smart career move for both of them and I think, being upper-class, and having her own career, and not being a mother, Jane was in more of a position to have a say.

Every time I watch that footage of Ken Dodd asking about their parents I physically cringe. Poor poor babies. Do your research you idiot! I don't think that ever happened again. I wonder if Brian made sure of that.

Paul literally talks like such a husband here. “We've thought about it, and probably the thing that John and I will do . . .”

Obsessed with Paul shouldering himself between George and John after George's little joke shove. It's so protective and yet so subtle. Exactly the same strong posture and easy smile as when he stepped between John and that interviewer during the Jesus scandal.

Poor George tally number 2 (you can't quite tell from the pic but John is shoving him out of the way because how dare he put his suitcase by Paul's?! That's John's suitcase's spot!!)

All the Beatles were cuddly with each other. It's one of the cutest bits about them, the puppies in a basket aspect. But I think we'll need a “noticable spacing difference” tally for this rewatch, too, and here's the first.

Paul wearing John's hat for attention and it fully and completely doing the job? They're so embarrassing!

I actually love that John's imitation of his upper-class Scottish family (which Paul can't do) is actually much more convincing than his broad Liverpudlian (which Paul nails in two variations, one based off his own family) I'm obsessed with the class dynamics between them.

Poor George tally three. He shares this one with Ringo. That moment when Paul's pretending to interview them about their purple hearts and cuts them both off with, “thank you. Mi-mister Lennon,” and John and Paul proceed to completely forget the other two exist for who knows how long – certainly longer than the videographer was willing to record.

I find John sliding into Paul's raspy “tiiight yeeeah” with his very turned on “mmmMM it's been a hard” extremely suggestive. I'm sorry but I do.

It's like he thinks if he looks away for too long he's going to disappear or something. Which. Now that I said that. Yeah. That is what it is. Poor separation-issues baby.

Ringo: Paul, you wrote a beautiful song and you sing it great. John: yeah and you're SEXY! Let's not forget that, everyone.

Am I crazy to obsess over every little musical similarity in their songs? Yes. Can I help it? No. The little “oh-oh ohoho” in the If I Fell demo is exactly the same as in Imagine and (frothing and writhing) it means something I can feel it! I just have no idea what.

I also find the lyric change from “i hope that she won't cry” to “i hope that she will cry” extremely interesting. There's always a heterosexual explanation. Trust me, the straights are the Simone Biles of mental gymnastics. But while the published lyric can be read as a man bitter toward his ex girlfriend hoping to hurt her by flaunting his new relationship, the demo version is trickier. Could it be that he doesn't want to hurt his wife's feelings by letting her know he's in love with someone else? But who else could John Lennon possibly have been in love with at the time?

“Too too much in love. Woah, too too much in love with you.” My heart

[beauty-and-passion]

TBOB PART 3: OF BILL’S SOLITUDE AND BILLFORD (2/3)

Welcome, everyone, to the umpteenth analysis post regarding TBOB.

This time, time to talk about Billford because

it’s always the right time to talk about Billford

TBOB doesn’t just hint that there was something going on: it basically confirms it. And as someone who shipped them for years yes, it feels amazing to see the ship being canonized. Not that it wasn’t already canon before, but you got it.

For all disclaimers and premises, please check the previous posts and the main masterlist.

<- Previous post - Masterlist

_______________________________

Kindred souls

Let’s recap: we have Bill, a being with a huge void inside him, a hole of solitude he isn’t able to fill - because how can you fill the deep desperation of being alone, because you lost everything and it’s your own fault?

He tries with love and friends, but his relationships don’t work, his friendships don’t work.

And then, Sixer comes.

*

Gifted like me

On TBOB, Bill says Ford’s IQ “was off the charts” and he was “wasting his gifts”.

In THE EARLY YEARS section, Bill says he wasn’t just “smarter than all the dull trapezoids and rhombuses”, but he also had “a gift, a rare mutation”.

In Journal 3, Ford says: “I am strange. I was born strange, I am attracted to the strange and the strange has always been attracted to me.”. Also: “my grades were too high and my social skills were too low”.

On thisisnotawebsitedotcom under the code EVEN HIS LIES ARE LIES, Bill says Ford “was half a genius. The other half seemed to be frozen at the age of 18, still a child, totally dependent on outside praise, terrible at understanding and relating to others.”

They both have a birth defect that makes them special, they are both more clever than the others, they are both strange, they both have terrible social skills.

Add that they’re both alone, rejected, outcasts, searching for a purpose.

Is it so weird Bill was immediately drawn to Ford and immediately considered him a perfect partner? And fine, maybe it wasn’t romantic - at first, at least. But the possible attraction is now A LOT more plausible.

*

(Potentially) bad like me

In TBOB, Bill says he looked at Ford’s possible futures and “giggled with delight”, because he was “destined for so much more”.

What kind of possible, immensely fucked-up futures Bill could’ve seen, to “giggle with delight”? Well, consider this: Ford isn’t a 100% good person. (Just like every human being and that makes him an even more compelling character, imho.) He has - always had - the potential to become a villain.

Starting from the series: in The Last Mabelcorn, as soon as Dipper (and we) find out he was Bill’s friend in the past, for a second we all got the impression that this guy was evil. Journal 3 confirmed that Ford has such a massive ego, to think that “Icarus didn’t flap hard enough” and that he’s so much better than everyone else. In TBOB, in the missing Journal 3 pages, he says Rudolph the Reindeer should’ve burned his oppressor’s workshop to teach them a lesson. In other words, Ford is not exactly the nicest, most caring guy on the block.

So yes, it’s very possible that Bill peeked into futures in which Ford turned completely evil and joined Bill. The possibility has always been present.

As someone cleverly pointed out here on Tumblr (forgot your name & post, sorry!), probably the only thing that saved Ford was that Bill wasn’t always present. From what we learned, Bill left Ford alone for long periods (maybe because he had to deal with other shit?), to the point Ford grew jealous his Muse was with someone else. Maybe, if Bill stuck closer… who knows? Maybe it would’ve been easier to convince Ford to keep going with the portal. Maybe Bill would’ve convinced him that opening it was a great idea. Maybe he would’ve convinced him that destroying his world (and, consequently, his oppressors) was a good idea too. “A lesson to all!”, as Ford wrote.

*

Same fascination for the stars

In TBOB we learn that Bill’s mutation allowed him to see the stars. He looked at them and “was ready to be one”.

Ford has always been fascinated by stars. His signature is “per aspera ad astra”, which can be translated as “through hardship, to the stars”.

They are both fascinated by the universe in the same way. They both aim at the stars to reach their dreams.

And that’s even more interesting, if we consider that Bill’s friends have totally different dreams that do not involve the stars in any way:

Pyronica: burn the entire universe

8-Ball: host a podcast

Keyhole: restart his high school band

Teeth is basically a pet so… uh… treats, I suppose?

And we know nothing of Bill’s exes, but I doubt they shared the same fascination, all while being so similar to him like Ford is.

_______________________________

The endless flirting

In the missing pages of Journal 3 there is no homoerotic subtext: the homoeroticism is just laid here, in plain sight, with a flashing light pointing at it, in case you’re too blind to notice it.

Here are just a couple of examples:

A) “I think I’m starting to like you, Sixer!” / “I think I’m starting to like you, Bill.”: I’ve seen love stories starting with much less than this.

B) “Get out of my head” / “You first”: I can see them giggle with delight while saying this to each other. No way they said it in a less-than-flirtatious tone.

C) Ford says he has been contacted by “an interdimensional deity of knowledge… in a top hat”. He immediately noticed the top hat. In light of Bill’s love advice, now I firmly believe this is how Bill seduces people first. Well, congrats, Bill: the top hat worked.

 D) Ford comes back to his roots, by showering his Muse with compliments about how he “enriched my life and all he asks is just a partner and company”. You know, typical behavior of someone who isn’t infatuated at all.

E) The “IF LOST RETURN TO BILL” tattoo. And later on, Bill calls Ford “his property”. The toxic old men yaoi has never been more toxic, more old men and more yaoi.

F) On Ford’s birthday, Bill followed his own love advice and gave Ford rats as a gift.

G) Karaoke night. Just… karaoke night.

No, okay, more on karaoke night because that part is insane: first the “one thing led to another” which if it doesn’t mean “we fucked” it means “we made out like there’s no tomorrow” at least. Then the “I’m gonna, we’re gonna”... what, Ford? You’re gonna WHAT? Marry the triangle? Fuck him? Are we talking about kisses or should I pick up the BDSM scene in the Penthouse Suite- oh sorry, I meant THE LOVE CAGE?

I mean… I don’t even have to imagine something to make this couple work. It’s all written here. And if this wasn’t enough, then why not throw in some Fiddauthor too, in which Fiddleford is so busy making TWO gifts for Ford, to forget to get something for his own family. And he comes back to Ford, instead of at least trying to make up with the woman he married.

And since this STILL WASN’T ENOUGH, why not make a full “Love Triangle With The Triangle ™”, starring Ford jealous that his Muse was “off inspiring some other scientist” or “posing for some tapestry” (what, Ford? Are you afraid someone is drawing him like one his their French girls?), while Bill is jealous that Ford spends his time with “a third-wheel hillbilly”.

I mean… I always felt it was canon. I just didn’t expect canon to be an avalanche running over me.

_______________________________

Honest like never before

If there is something more insane in these pages besides karaoke night, then it’s the “monster conversation”.

First Bill basically hints that he tried to undo the past and get his dimension back (for more details, check THIS post).

Ford replies, “I guess you can never really go home again, can you?”. And considering the use of the impersonal “you” and the construct “going home again”, they both seem to confirm my train of thought - i.e. that Bill tried to get his home back and that “home” isn’t just a physical place, but his parents and, most importantly, the love and affection he lost when he destroyed everything and experienced, for the first time in his life, loneliness.

I don’t know you, but I doubt Bill shows the last speck of his home dimension to everyone. He may talk about Euclydia as an oppressive place, but actually showing what’s left of it? I don’t know, I think it’s a bit too… personal, you know? I mean, how would you feel, looking at something that reminds you of all the people you killed for a mistake?

This alone should be enough to prove how much Bill is trusting Ford here. He’s not just talking about his place like he did with his Henchmaniacs, he’s showing it too. He’s showing what’s left.

Remember: to his other Henchmaniacs, Bill said he liberated his home dimension. In the Love Cage, he will repeat the same excuse - while showing Ford that the actual “liberation” means destroying everything.

This alone proves Ford is more than another Henchmaniac, a tool, or whatever other excuse Bill pulls up while talking about him. He told him, for probably the first time in his life, the truth: that his home dimension was destroyed. Not saved, not liberated. Destroyed.

And he could’ve still saved face. Ford thought Rudolph should’ve burned his oppressor’s place, so he could’ve accepted some excuse like “my place was absolute, total, utter shit, so I burned it to give a lesson to all people opposing me”. Bill could’ve taken the merit of ending it.

Instead, Bill said it was a monster. For the first time, we see Bill talking about himself not in positive, grandiose terms, but in a negative term. He sees himself as a monster.

And no, we can be sure he wasn't lying, because that's not the first time Bill "looked more distant than I'd ever seen him":

And guess what, that distant expression appeared when he talked about his home dimension, how flat it was and how he "liberated" it.

But that’s not all:

So, not only Bill sees himself as a monster, describes himself to Ford as a monster, but gives him an indirect warning too, by saying that the monster “would eat you alive”.

Hirsch truly wanted us to tear ourselves apart in angst and I respect him for that.

_______________________________

And with that, let’s close this post too. The last one will come soon and it will be about the post-betrayal and how well Bill handled it.

Spoiler: not so well.

-> Next post

(How about a coffee? ☕)

_______________________________

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[loveanddeepspice]

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis:  you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating:  18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw:  religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter:  6 / ?

✞ co-authors:  redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link:  here

✞ chapter synopsis: "the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it." - oscar wilde

✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5| chapter 6

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

Despite what happened, you would have done anything to face Father Sylus again. 

He was the type of person who radiated energy from within, dedication unlike anyone you had ever met - which could be a good or a bad thing. The thoughts became an obsession, all that seemed to fill your brain. The recollection of his touch made you sweat. It was the last thing you thought about before drifting off to sleep, the first thing you thought about when you woke, and the next few days stretched.  One thing was sure: you longed to see him again, if only for the courage to apologize.  But did you even have to apologize? He was the one who had kissed you first, right?  It was so unbelievably confusing. You’d talk yourself through circles; for once, no amount of sleeping seemed to help.  You weren’t even given the option to sleep it all off anyway or mellow properly in your self-pity. Upon learning of your ‘arrest’ from Talia, your father forced you out of the house that Sunday to go to church with him.  “What’s going on with you, Y/N?” Dad raised his eyebrows and frowned as he gripped the steering wheel, and you could tell he was trying hard not to get angry or frustrated. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, hon. You came back, and you’re acting weird.  Can you just tell me what’s wrong?”  Shaking your head, you shrugged, trying your hardest to maintain eye contact on the door handle, ignoring your dad’s question and wishing he’d just leave you alone.  “You went from being happy to totally distraught since you moved out. What am I supposed to think here, huh?”  ‘Maybe everything went to total fucking shit,’ was what you wanted to say, and tried not to roll your eyes. Dad tried so hard to not act like the authoritarian or pushy father, especially after your mother had died. He was never like that. And it was because of that you figured it was time to be at least a little truthful.  “I quit my job. I don’t know what I’m going to do from here, but -” you said, “I just…needed some time to think things through.”  Your dad parked the car and turned to offer you a subtle smile. You were convincing enough, obviously. “Okay, fine. Work in the store until you figure it out. It’ll be like old times.” One hand gripped the steering wheel as he looked at you, almost seeming to peer into your brain as his eyes flicked ever so slightly. “So, uh, is this about your mom? I didn’t know you were still upset about that. I should’ve tried to talk to you more.”  You bit down your reply, feeling a bitter taste in the back of your throat, and willing it away.  “No, it isn’t. Just forget about it.”  A long sigh filled the small space as your father pressed his lips together. “Christ, I can’t be mad at you right now. I’ve always let you do what you want.”  This was strange, a particular ache settling inside and spreading to your limbs like an infection. Maybe it wouldn’t stop now that it had started. And the first instinct was to get away and run. Run and run and just get away.  “Hon, Y/N,” Your Dad’s voice was pleading, and you nearly missed it. “We can go talk to -”  “No!” You blurted, immediately regretting it, mortified at just the thought. How did you speak so fast? “No, it’s fine. Let’s just go inside. We’re gonna be late.”

You didn’t feel any better inside the church, but you weren’t expecting much to begin with. All you could do was suck it up and seat yourself beside your dad. It wasn’t crowded, but there were a few unfamiliar faces, so maybe not everyone would notice your fucked up mood. 

Everything felt surreal. You were sitting there in church with the sun streaming through the stained glass windows, and your gaze landed on the one depicting the Virgin Mary.

The word ethereal came to mind. 

Everything seemed like it would evaporate into thin air. Like if you moved too quickly, you’d wake up from one of those dreams that just turned out to be inside of another dream. 

And when a hush fell over the congregation, you had no choice but to look forward. No matter how your brain fizzes or your fingers tingle. You were forced to look at that handsome face in front of the church and feel the emotion well inside you. Something that felt different than embarrassment or frustration. 

Even from this distance, Father Sylus exudes that particular aura, daring to fill the whole church with its strength. You are once again reminded of how inescapable his presence is—not through belief or goodness, but something, someone who felt unearthly, even celestial, as absurd as it felt. 

Ethereal. Once again, with that pretty word. How could you even begin to explain it? It was so easy to feel some sort of bitterness, perhaps even selfishness. Who could blame you? Everything always seemed too simple when you looked at it from a distance. 

“Good morning,” He began, his voice taking on that strangely powerful, lilting cadence. He paused, hands clasping, and his posture was different. Shoulders broad, spine straight, chin lifted slightly. “I want to take a moment before we begin to discuss why we’re here.” 

You were drawn to his words, which had formed an invisible link to you. Maybe if you closed your eyes like you did at night, you could picture that night in the car. It felt foolish because you were certain your own thoughts were desperate. How stupid did it make you seem, trying to replay the sensation? A stupid crush. That is all you wanted it to amount to, even if looking into his fiery gaze had made you feel like you were melting.

“We’re here, in the house of the Lord. Why is this?” 

If a month’s insistence on chasing after a flame could be compared to anything -

 “Free will.” His tone picked up. “Through our actions, we make conscious decisions. As far as humankind is concerned, free will also makes us human.” 

Your breathing stilled. Something terrible seized your gut, a cramping feeling causing you to grit your teeth. 

“This is a sanctified place,” he continued, voice rich and filled with energy. “Within these walls, you should experience peace. Not conflict or anger. All are free here because it is with our actions that we build ourselves.”

How the hell did he manage this? The words continued spilling from his mouth, something pulling you further. And after a pause, his gaze filtered over the room again - and landed on you. 

Time was beginning to stand still, and you swore your face began to heat up. But, thankfully, the look didn’t linger on you, moving on as he cleared his throat. 

Well, fuck. 

There was only a tiny shift in expression, and perhaps you were the only one to notice how his pause seemed more lengthy than those before it. 

"We - uh.” Father Sylus made a show of glancing down at the notes before him and shuffling a few pages. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat again, a little louder this time. “What I mean to say is, with free will, we struggle against our urges and temptations. Sin beckons - uh,” another loud cough. He looked nervous. Vulnerable. In more ways than one. 

Father Sylus hastily pushed aside the pages, shoulders lifting in a deep breath before looking again at the people gathered. He straightened a little, and his powerful tone returned as he folded his hands neatly. “So, how do we resist? It can be hard to…admit one’s faults.” He let out a little huff of air, glancing down again. Then, he stepped away from the podium, stepping along the carpeted dais, hands clasped behind his back and thumbs tapping against each other. 

The congregation started shifting. A glance here and there, unable to guess what he would say next. Probably wondering why their priest was acting so…off. If you weren’t glued to your seat in, well, any number of the emotions you were feeling now - you would have high-tailed it out of there already. But instead, you were frozen in place, feeling like an outsider, feeling the shift in the air more than the others around you. 

“Take those feelings and multiply them by ten.” He stated, looking towards the back of the church at nothing in particular. It was as if he was somewhere only his mind knew. 

“Opportunity is often just an invitation to sin, yes. Free will is a man’s greatest power but also his biggest weakness. With that power comes responsibility. Satan doesn’t come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns in the middle of the night.” 

Oh God.

 There was a tense pause and stillness, and you wonder how you managed to sit here and listen. Those crimson eyes trailed around the room, but for another second, a brief and terrifying second, they burned into you.

“Satan comes as everything you’ve ever wished for.” He laughed, bitter and slightly hoarse. Then his eyes snapped forward again, unabashed. 

He coughed, cleared his throat again, and gestured with a finger above his head. “We all - well, we all think we can overcome any challenge. Big or small. Big and small.” Father Sylus let out a shaky exhale. “Um, the point is...The point is that the devil is ready to collect when you can’t. So, the point is that - uh,” His tone shifted to something smaller that made your insides tremble agonizingly. A breathless, tight sort of anxiousness that stole through your lungs and caused your heart rate to increase. It was impossible to deny that despite the words coming out of his mouth, you actually wanted to hear him continue. “Um, sometimes I think the hardest thing is that we are human, and we are weak.” 

Before he could even continue, his voice cracked. “I’m sorry.” He swallowed, grimacing, an anguish that you recognized. “Excuse me.” He looked like he might break, the wavering tension almost stifling the room, his expression almost tormented. 

“I’m sorry. Excuse me.” And with that, he disappeared into the back, leaving everyone shocked. 

Everyone except for you. 

“And that’s why I’m never going to church again.” You rolled your eyes as you leaned against one of the shelves in your dad’s store, looking over at Rafayel, who was leaning against the counter, making it his personal mission to get every last drop out of an iced coffee. “You should have seen the look on his face. What a fuck up.” 

Rafayel wrinkled his nose, looked around the otherwise empty store, and then glanced at his phone. “Yikes. Poor guy.” He sighed and tapped his foot on the floor. “Talia came home and said he had a migraine - but it’s even more hilarious that a near-public breakdown was because of you.” 

“My God, you are awful.” You frowned and stepped forward to lightly punch his arm, reaching out and catching his elbow with a grimace as he pretended to almost fall over. “That’s a horrible thing to say! You were the one who was practically encouraging me!” 

“I would never,” Rafayel huffed, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “Anyway, it’s been almost a week now. You’re gonna have to suck it up and face him sooner or later.” With a firm nod, he shook off your hold and dusted his hand on the faded denim of his jeans, turning his attention back to his phone and shaking the ice in the cup he held. 

“How would I do that?” You asked. 

As if oblivious, Rafayel arched a brow and smiled tightly, peering at you over the edge of his phone. His tone was less-than-reassuring, sounding almost pitying. “No fucking idea.” 

You opened your mouth to argue but thought better of it as the shop door opened, just in time for the chilly afternoon to bring in your dad and Xavier. You took a deep breath at the sound of the bell and forced yourself to calm down.

As if on cue, Rafayel pushed himself away from the counter and looked in your direction. “Well, Y/N.” He said, tossing a wink in your direction that made you want to reach out and knock the silly grin off his face. “Good luck.” With that, he turned and walked out of the store with a shake of his head. 

Your dad mumbled something under his breath before tossing a wave a little too late and heading into the back of the small building. 

Unease had settled in your stomach at your friend's departure. You felt as if you had more to say, ask, or get a general idea of as you stared at the shop's door. You ran a hand over your tired face and sighed. 

“Hi,” Xavier gave you a careful, controlled smile as you turned toward his voice. “Need help with anything?” 

You tried your best not to fidget or bite your lip. “No, but it’s nice of you to offer.” You shrugged and glanced away briefly. “Why? Got nothing else to do?” 

“Uh, I work here?” He blinked as he stepped forward. You could take in his softening facial features now that he was closer. His smile didn’t quite fade as he looked around the quiet shop. “Anyway - I um. I tried to call you last night? About dinner?” 

Tilting your head in confusion, you froze. Then, you processed the sentence. 

Dinner. Shit. 

“Oh! My phone went missing. I’m sure it’ll turn up soon or something. Wasn’t the nicest phone anyways,” you brushed some hair behind your ear. “I still can’t figure out how it disappeared!” You forced a laugh at your lie and shifted uncomfortably.

You’d completely forgotten about agreeing to go out with him. How fucking stupid were you? So caught up in the idea of -

“Well, uh, I didn’t plan much. So it’s okay, we can just do something another night. Right?” Xavier suggested, and you couldn’t tell if he had let it go so quickly or was suspicious about your behavior. 

Either way, you smiled, rationalizing with yourself for what felt like the millionth time that spending time with him would be a good thing. Any way to keep your mind distracted. Clearly, he still wanted to go out with you, and you certainly wouldn’t say no. After all, who could blame you for latching on anyone who showed the slightest interest? 

This would be a step in the right direction, right? Things would get better. They had to. No matter how weird it felt for you to think so. 

“That’s fine. Sorry, my head’s all over the place.” 

The worst part of it all was the sudden weight in your stomach, the ache in your chest that was becoming all too tiring. Something pushed you in the complete opposite direction of the young man in front of you, towards what you really wanted, and had no explanation for why you did. 

“Y/N?” Xavier spoke again and stepped closer, watching your expression with careful scrutiny, his hand reaching out to touch yours, giving you a new feeling of unease. “Hey, um, - you alright?” 

Your heart wrenched a little at the worry, and you wondered exactly how pathetic you appeared. “I think so. Can you take over? I gotta step out for a while.”

It grew colder as you walked along the sidewalk, sticking your hands inside your jacket pockets. Clouds gathered in the distance, inching their way towards the suburb. The air smelled fresher, as if it might snow lightly sometime at night. A breeze swept over the street, stirring pieces of your hair from its confines, and you briefly thought you should have remembered your scarf. 

Then, you came to a stop in front of the church. 

You looked down at your outfit, the jeans and the oversized blue sweater you had found in your mom's closet, when you couldn’t be bothered to do your own laundry. Perhaps she would give you strength, or at least enough willpower from wherever she was to give you the courage to turn right the fuck around and go back home.  She was always straightforward in that way, even without the drinking. If only you had taken after her in that aspect. 

For a moment, you almost turned to leave, giving yourself the opportunity to simply walk away and go home. However, after a few seconds of mental debate, you stepped along the worn walkway and up the steps, slipping your hand out of your pocket to place it on the worn wooden door. 

Somewhere in your mind was a glimmer of hope, the possibility of resolve.

Now that you had gathered whatever courage you had left, you took one last, bracing breath before pushing the door open. A jolt of energy speared up your arms, a buzzing sensation against your fingertips. Once you were inside, everything felt eerily silent. Almost too silent. But as the familiar warmth enveloped you, your body relaxed slightly as you shrugged off your jacket. 

The last light from the day was casting through the windows, and the interior was a muted, golden glow and soft orange. It felt warm in more ways than one. Despite the hushed nature of the building, energy thrummed within you. The atmosphere was inviting, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite muster the ability to step forward any further, feet stuck to the floor beneath you. It was ironic, yet in a way, expected; you felt like crying or throwing something, but maybe punching Father Sylus would give you the most satisfaction. 

The chapel seemed alien to you as you made your way further inside. 

Loneliness was all-consuming, a fear ever present and threatening in the back of your mind. You wondered why it hurt so much. And, you considered whether you have ever experienced a real connection in your life. You zeroed in on the cross beyond the rows of pews as if you could use it for answers. It glinted a little in the evening light that filtered through the stained glass. Your eyes felt dry as they fixed upon the illuminated wood, searching, listening, walking towards the front of the church like a mouse. 

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” You asked your question out loud. The silence of the building taunted you in return, and something constricted within your chest. The rush of it all was consuming, filling your every thought with hope and expectation. A breath sucked in, and you shook your head, blinking. Everything felt off, and you had no idea what your body was supposed to do with itself. “This is so fucked. You know, this is all…just so messed up,” you choked out the whisper and, with a small gasp, swallowed. The emotions swelled. Heavy and pounding and suddenly overwhelming. 

Who gave a shit? Nothing would change. 

But, maybe - 

Would God be willing? Could He lift the spell put on you that would continue to grow? 

“Mom is dead, and she’s not coming back.” The words spilled and dropped like shattered glass. “And, uh, it’s just like, that’s fucked up. Isn’t it? Please, it’s - well, I wish I knew, God damn it. Motherfucker!” You swore louder than you should have, not recognizing your own voice. A feeling that had no name gripped your heart. This was it. You were giving up. “Totally fucked up. And you go and make me do stupid shit? What kind of test is that?” 

Only silence answered. You wondered how you should feel. As angry as you were, it felt strange to voice it. Finally, saying the words brought unusual comfort, and it was too easy to admit everything now. “Yeah, yeah. You should really apologize, God. Lord. Jesus. Whatever.” 

“I’m sorry.” The voice that spoke back did not belong to you. Echoing off the walls and the stained glass, it sent a jolt up your spine, causing you to spin in its direction. Leaning against a doorframe was Father Sylus, looking down at the floor, that shameful expression resurfacing on his face. You witnessed the repentant facade as he lifted his head and looked at you. 

It felt like a flood rushed through you, coursing, washing away the anger, seeping into every cell, and filling you with something new. Warm and soft, somehow breaking you apart as it passed. Something indecipherable but true. 

Something almost wonderful and exhilarating. 

He looked like something you could draw. That raw, exposed sort of aura. 

That same warmth enveloped your heart, the comfort expanding across your chest. There was something profound and affectionate within his gaze and the sense that you had underestimated what was truly meant by the phrase ‘care and concern.’

It could have been a few seconds. Or minutes passed as you stood rooted to the spot. The beating of your heart seemed to echo in your ears. Blood pulsed through your veins, the silence around you growing louder. 

“For what?” You were almost afraid to speak up. 

“For whatever you’re feeling,” Father Sylus stated plainly. Then he straightened, and his look shifted, and for a split second, he stepped forward, only to pause with his fingers twitching at his sides. Maybe there was confusion flickering in his gaze. Or longing. But he still didn’t move from where he stood, as if unable to break the tension he had with himself. After a time, he studied your face and added, “For everything and for nothing.” 

After a moment of thought, you shook your head. “That’s vague.” 

“It’s all I’ve got.” Father Sylus ran a hand behind his neck, almost nervously, eyes shifting and gaze searching. Another pause lingered between you, and you blinked a few times. He opened and closed his mouth, finally settling on placing both his hands on his hips, inclining his head to look at the stained glass windows. “That…and guilt.” 

His admission seemed weighted, and his voice was heavy. You watched him take a step forward, then hesitate. 

In that second, there was a great leap in understanding. You understood that he would not look directly at you because it would break this sacred reverence between you and whatever else was going on within his mind. 

Maybe it’d always been a game, and perhaps you knew deep down that this would be his next move. The inevitable, silent communication. Slowly, you folded your shaky arms over your chest. The look that flashed in his eyes made you shudder. With a new boldness, you swallowed and whispered: “Why are you telling me this?” 

Exhaling hard, you weren’t sure whether to scream, laugh, or cry as you awaited your answer.

He swallowed, his dark gaze teeming like a fire in the low light, the red burning. His lip curled. “Because I feel like you can understand it. Why I feel this way.” 

A sick urge, sharp and needy, had you crossing the space between you, the air shaking and trembling as he finally took another stride forward. Your eyes traced over his face. Deep and pained and beautiful. His chest heaved. A strange, bittersweet satisfaction filled you. 

“I - I can’t stop thinking about -” you broke off, words quivering as you spoke. “Us. The other night - it keeps going through my head, what I said, and -” your voice was breaking again, the achy, miserable desperation settling in. 

You could tell he was holding his breath, hands now clenched into fists, gaze searching and uncertain. “I didn’t mean to deceive you.” The words hung heavy as he stepped closer, finally closing the distance between you, tilting your chin, and forcing you to look at him. The grip held you firmly, though his eyes remained gentle and pleading. “I want nothing more than to pray - beg for your forgiveness. Try and restore whatever trust I’ve betrayed - but in all truth, God, I -” 

Another thick swallow, and he paused, the corner of his mouth twisting. He squeezed your chin lightly as if in search of some answer. Then his hand fell to his side, his head turning to look at the cross behind the altar. Something burned beneath your ribs. 

“What is it?” You whispered, trembling with the effort of not spilling all your unresolved thoughts. “Tell me - tell me something, anything, or - or -” You stopped yourself, feeling a little pathetic at not being able to formulate the proper words. 

“My path was never exactly clear, but,” Father Sylus swallowed thickly, sounding more scared than ever. “Someone I loved when I was younger - she -” A long sigh escaped his lips. “We were each other's firsts and…We loved each other very much.” He exhaled again. His face creased into sadness, reminiscent and haunting. A sharp pain, almost. One that lingered from emotions held within. The truth was there, plain as day, naked, heartbroken, and fragile. “She died when she was eighteen.” 

Pain squeezed at you mercilessly, tight and almost bone-crunching. You stepped closer, your brain slowly putting it all together, realization hitting. Then your bottom lip trembles as you reach out, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it. “I’m sorry,” you manage to say after a moment, “that must have been -” Another pause, trying to settle your lungs into a steadier breathing pattern. 

He squeezed your hand, looking at you, catching your gaze and holding it, unwavering. “I went to her funeral in a church far bigger than this one with twice the congregation. And later that day, when they put her down into the ground, I listened to the Monsignor pray over her soul.” He looked away again, this time up at the beams in the ceiling. “And I really listened to what he was saying for the first time. And I don’t know why, I just suddenly felt…” He trailed off, and you moved your hand further up his arm, willing him to continue by pressing your fingertips gently into his forearm. 

He smiled at the ceiling, faint and apologetic. “I felt at peace. Everything clicked into place. As stupid as that sounds. It was like something I couldn’t understand but needed. And, well,” he shrugged. 

“At last, it finally made sense to me,” he muttered. “The power God holds over us was always right there.” Then he turned to face you, his fingers reaching and resting on your cheek, tracing the soft skin of your jaw. “And now, I stand before you - finding these feelings again, the first true connection I’ve felt in years. I don’t mean to doubt anything…but I don’t know how to...” 

He let his voice drift off before tucking your hair behind your ear, movements tender. You wondered what he could see in your expression. 

“How did she die?” You asked quietly as if the question would destroy something in the air, but you needed to ask it anyway. 

The corners of his mouth trembled as he stroked his thumb along your jawline, offering you a small, grim smile. “She was mad at something, drank herself sick. Decided a joy ride on a motorcycle might be a good idea,” he turned his gaze to the ceiling again, and it finally hit you that he kept doing that as a trick to keep himself from crying. “She lost control and swerved, hit a wall head-on. Died on impact. Stupid girl with the dumbest ideas. She used to talk about seeing if the world curved or if the stars continued forever. She was funny and smart - but not as smart as she should have been. Her blood alcohol level came back three times the legal limit.” 

“That’s horrible,” you breathed. The puzzle pieces were assembled together. A crash. Drunk. How similar it was to your mother. Only your mother hadn’t met death head-on. It was still one of those things that made you wonder; which would have been worse? The chance was so similar yet unique. Still, as Father Sylus spoke about it, you swore you felt the faint sorrow he must still carry within himself.

“Sylus, I’m -” 

“Don’t be sorry.” He said, finally regaining a certain poise about his face, somehow managing to look warm even at this moment, smiling very softly. 

At his words, you realized you were breathing harder than before, and it didn’t go unnoticed as he scanned your face. You didn’t know what was wrong with you; you felt an emotion you could no longer explain. He had experienced loss, same as you, just not in the same way. 

Father Sylus let out a dry snort. “It’s not a happy memory, but something good comes from pain. Distrust to trust. Fear to courage. Hatred to love. To an extent, those things make you understand and appreciate everything.” 

You nodded, unable to stop yourself from wrapping your arms around his middle, convincing yourself you would forget how to breathe if you didn’t. You embraced him because it felt like the right thing to do, the smoothness of his shirt beneath your fingertips. His hand ran up along your side until it rested on your neck's base, soft, gentle, and warm. He exhaled a little before resting his chin on the top of your head. 

As he held you, you realized that this was what you had wanted. This was what you had really been aching for. Everything shifted again, changing, rushing with a tangle of nerves and dizziness. Nothing else would settle more easily than being cradled right there, where you could breathe him in. 

“Hey, do you -” He leaned back, both hands cupping your face, tilting it to meet his own. It took him a moment to formulate his question. “I shouldn’t ask, but - do you still want me?” 

Of course you did. More than anything. 

But even then, you should have stepped away. Should have walked out without another word, back to whatever fucking regular life you thought you had. But with whatever strength you had left, you pushed everything aside and quietly said, “Yes.” 

He had pressed you against the wooden door of the office, pinning you in place after dragging you in there and shutting the door. Not that you really had any intention of going anywhere. Not with his lips moving against yours, the desperation sending sparks along your skin.  His tongue darted out, parting your lips and moving into your mouth. Hungry and forceful and tasting every inch.

“You know,” he said as he pulled back, taking a second to breathe, “It’s so hard to be good when you’re so…” He trailed off, leaving you to only imagine what he would say. 

No, you had no words or any logical thoughts, really. Perhaps this was the closest thing to heaven you’d ever feel, surely. And Father Sylus ran his hands down your sides, slow and possessive, grabbing fistfuls of your sweater and bunching it up. Heat began spreading throughout your body as his fingertips crept underneath and stoked along the sensitive skin. 

“Will you let me in?” He mumbled, his lips now on the underside of your jaw as his palms spanned across your stomach as if trying to map out every inch of exposed skin. The blood pounded in your veins, pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat.

“If this is what it feels like to be tempted,” you mused, gasping as he sucked on the skin above your collarbone, gripping the front of his shirt. “I have already failed. Miserably.” 

Letting out a hot breath that sounded an awful lot like laughter, he pulled away, a smile stretching across his lips, amused. “I suppose you really have,” he chuckled. His hands gripped your hips and spun you around so you were against his desk. Then he ducked down to press more kisses along your throat. The shivers returned as he lifted your sweater over your head, tossing it aside with another wicked grin. And for the first time, you noticed the hint of a dimple in the corner of his mouth. 

After a moment, Father Sylus fumbled with the buttons of his shirt until that, too, was discarded, skin suddenly bare. The sight made you stop, observing for a moment. For the first time, your fingers reached out and touched the skin of his chest, moving over the muscles and across his stomach. You marveled at the way he flinched slightly, inhaling sharply at your touch. 

Everything felt…hot, heavy, and inappropriate in the best way. 

And before you knew it, his hands were running up along the bare skin of your stomach, a barely-there brush that made your breath hitch. Then his hands were behind your back, unhooking your bra as his lips found yours again, rough and fervent. As it was removed, there was not a second of delay before his hands cupped both of your breasts, squeezing and drawing his thumbs over your nipples. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his hands shifted, fingers resting along the waistband of your jeans. 

It was like every little action was becoming overwhelming, sending pulsing waves through every nerve, vein, and muscle. When he popped the button, slid the zipper, and slowly eased the jeans down, the pulsing only got stronger—dizzying with its intensity. It was challenging to focus on anything else that would make more sense. Your mind was clouded. 

“Wait,” you breathed, sitting on the desk, pulling the clip from your hair and tossing it to the floor, the waves tumbling out. His hands never left you, still roaming over every little centimeter of you they could get access to, “I -” 

It didn’t need to be said, whatever it was. Because a grin broke out across his lips. A bright, glorious grin as Father Sylus pressed another harsh kiss to your lips like he could swallow the words down.

Stepping closer, he maneuvered you onto your back, your legs dangling over the edge of the desk. The smooth, cool wood pressed against the length of your spine and shoulders as you heard something that sounded like a book fall somewhere behind you. He gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, blunt nails digging in. Breath hitching, your heart thumped at the roughness and passion of his movements. Something animalistic and unrestrained lay just beneath the surface, waiting, ready. 

“Let me,” he urged quietly, fingers winding over the lace underwear, dragging them down the length of your legs. Fingers stroked up again, curling and caressing your inner thighs, one hand finally reaching the place where you were already desperate, soaking wet, and aching to be touched. Without hesitation, a digit dipped, sliding along your slick folds and slipping in easily. The motion made you bite down on your tongue as his other hand ran along the underside of your knee, urging your leg up and apart. 

You felt the pad of his thumb gliding over the little bundle of nerves, back and forth in a way that made you groan. 

“You are,” his voice was low, almost a growl, and his teasing continued. “So gorgeous, laying there. I can’t stop looking at you.” One finger became two. Slick and hot as they moved into you, each stroke moving deeper. All too suddenly, his lips were crashing down against yours, kissing you hard and desperately as if set on devouring you whole. 

The only thing keeping you stable was grabbing his shoulder and his upper arm. The sudden rise of pressure rushed around you. His thumb slipped, pressing down a bit more on your clit, drawing another gasp from you, a sound that filled the room. Then he pulled his hand away, an invisible weight settling when the digits were gone, leaving you empty and still aching for more. 

“I’m on birth control,” you managed, eyes blinking rapidly as you processed that this, in fact, was actually about to happen. The fullness beneath your belly was spooling tighter, coiling. 

It was only a few seconds; that’s all it took for him to undo his belt buckle, his length freed. Straining, leaking, begging to be inside you. The size of it makes you swallow a certain anxious lump in your throat. 

“Please.” The word spilled out before you could stop it. The coil inside you grew more and more tense and throbbing. You needed it now; the consequences didn’t matter, nor did the guilt or shame. “Please.”

His breathing hitched as if a long controlled flame within had been ignited. One of his hands rested on your hip, the other hooking under your opposite knee, parting you further and steadying himself. The tip of his cock pressed at your center. You didn’t have any time to prepare because, at that very moment, he was pushing further, sliding into you inch by inch. 

The heat and fullness and pleasure coursed, trembling through you. 

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, face buried in the crook of your neck, but you could hear the grin in his tone, the soft desperation in his voice. “You, you -” but his breath choked off as he pushed all the way inside, the moan that ripped through him cracked and hoarse. 

It took you a moment to feel him fully, gasping for air and dazed beyond what was really necessary. Holding tight, you wrapped an arm around his neck, exhaling hard. The room became a haze around the two of you, the entire moment almost suspended, paused, put on hold. 

When he moved his hips again, you whimpered as he hit somewhere deep, and your pleasure spiked. 

“Fuck,” he whispered against your skin, raising himself just enough to look at you, eyes glinting with a certain fervor. A little dark, a little feral, something wildly possessive and hungry and yearning all at once. “Oh, fuck,” he hissed, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes. Another jolt shot through you. Another strong thrust, this one harder than the last, followed by another. And another. It took a minute for him to set a rhythm, but when he did - you were sure the air was being pushed from your lungs each time. 

You couldn’t do anything but hang on. His mouth met yours in a sloppy, forceful kiss. Gasping and shuddering, you tried not to shout at the next jolt. The constant grind fills you every time. Deeper and sharper. The steady, thrumming pleasure. Intense and focused, as if Father Sylus were on a mission. Searching for something. Finding each sweet spot with whatever desperate greed drove him. Like now that he’d had the taste of something forbidden, he wanted the best of it - anything you could offer. 

He shifted slightly, and before you knew it, he hooked your leg over his shoulder, the deep angle making you arch from the desk. 

One hand tangled in his hair, the other on his shoulder, gripping hard and pulling him closer, trying to keep him buried deep inside of you. The friction built, the pace driving forward and drawing the pressure up, leaving you malleable and aching for release. But somehow, wanting it to last as long as possible. 

When the pleasure spooled tighter and tighter, every breath came short, coming fast and shorter. Until finally with one long, breathy whimper of an exhale, release washed over you, crashing like a wave. His name slipped out of your mouth, some deep, instinctual part of your brain keeping you present enough to utter it, still pulsing around him, shaking. 

And that brought him there, a little broken sound falling from his lips. Hips snapping, driving just the slightest bit further until he groaned into the side of your neck, spilling inside you. After a moment, the stillness settled between the two of you, heavy and thick. There was no actual sound other than ragged breathing. 

You stared at the ceiling, trembling and a bit boneless, wholly dumbfounded and satisfied. Then, with every ounce of energy left, you sat up, placing a hand on his chest.

“You okay?” 

A rush flooded through you at his question, and you struggled to make sense - to be logical and reasonable. 

“Yeah,” you said quickly, “I just. I…” What was the right wording? You trailed off, eyes focused somewhere beyond him. Struggling, you kept your eyes away. How could you possibly articulate the warmth that had settled over you, the lift in your confusion that had been gnawing at you until this moment? How could you explain feelings that make no real sense? 

“I feel at peace.” A near whisper because your words made it tangible, whatever it was. And really, you did feel lighter. It was as if something weighing on your shoulders had lifted in a way that wasn’t just because of the act that had been performed. 

“Really?” A sharp inhale of his breath. 

You nodded, reaching out to hold his face and running your thumbs along his cheekbones. Father Sylus slowly returned the nod, a tentative but wonderful, hopeful smile quirking up his lips—something bright and genuine, untouched by bitterness or remorse.

Serenity had sunken in with a comforting familiarity. Settling inside, like the feeling of returning home. Like the truth had opened its door. Acceptance and serenity. Understanding. Clarity, even. The knowledge you weren’t as broken or faulty as you thought. 

A moment passed, no words spoken. Then, still breathless and maybe a bit disbelieving, Father Sylus reached out and traced a cross on your brow with his thumb. 

“Did you just -” You blinked, a bit indignant as you huffed. “Did you just…bless me?”

He looked a bit sheepish, hands resting on your shoulders, thumbs rubbing gentle circles along your collarbone. “Guess I did.” With a slight chuckle, he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 

Tag list: @celestialforce, @readerxyourbabe, @babyx91

[theyanderespecialist]

The Deal (Scenario) Yanderes Asmodeus/Fizzarolli X GN Blitzo Reader (Helluva Boss)

[Hello, I am finally getting around to this one! I hope that you all enjoy this chapter! It is after Fizz quits and How Ozzie and Fizz's relationship changes. Maybe a little of that episode! So good luck! I hope that you all enjoy this. 

Disclaimer: You take the place of a Gender Neutral Listener 

Disclaimer 2: Fizz and Ozzie are a canon couple, they are not yandere in canon. This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously. Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine. Just do not be illegal or gross about it. Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon.

(Yanderes Asmodeus/Fizzarolli) 

(No One's POV) 

Fizz had a crush on (Name) when they were kids. They were just such sweet Imps. Then the accident happened and a huge misunderstanding came from it. For over a decade he has hated one of the loves of his life. He mourned that he could have been with (Name). When Fizz learned the truth, that (Name) had wanted to see. That they do care. It made his heart ache. Also, it reminded him that they were dating Stolas kind of. That left him bitter and angry. 

He gets ready for his date with Ozzie and then hears Ozzie come in. 

"Why are you upset Froggy?" Ozzie asks him. 

"well you know how I used to have feelings for (Name)...?" Fizz asks. "After they saved me... These feelings reared their head again... I love you so much Oz... It is just hard." 

Ozzie pulls Fizz close. "It is okay Fizzy," Ozzie says. "I can tell why you love them, they are quite something." 

Fizz stops and looks at him. "Oz? Are you attracted to them?" Fizz asks curiously. 

"Yes, they are physically attractive, but it is more so that they saved you~ That they would never have hurt you like that, seeing them shoot your stalker~ That was kind of hot~," Ozzie says and kisses down Fizz's neck. "If you want, we could have them~ Keep them as our lovers ~" 

"We could?" Fizz asks, this was the best situation that they could get in. 

"We could, I still have to give them one of my crystals," Ozzie says. "Maybe we can even make a deal with them~ Make them ours, and ours alone~" 

Fizz grins, that would be the best of both worlds. He would have (Name) and Ozzie, both of them being the loves of his life and he would never EVER let go of (Name) again. They belong to them~ 

-Small Time Skip;  Brought to you by: Ozzie being an Evil Little Fuck-

(Name) was eating cheese and having a good time. When their phone rings, they answer it. "Hello?" They ask around a mouthful of cheese. "What do you need?" 

"(Name)!" An excited Fizz says. "Since we are friends again, I thought I could have you over for dinner. You know, just me, you, and Ozzie." 

"Okay?" (Name) draws out. "I mean I will not say no to a free meal, just is it you cooking or the lusty king? Last time I checked you burn water when cooking." 

Fizz blushes. "Yes, Ozzie will be cooking," He confirms. 

"Okay then, I won't say no to a good meal, and my daughter is out with Tex and the Queen Bee. She won't be back until Monday." (Name) says and starts to put on their shoes. "So I guess I am all yours!" 

Fizz smirks happily, Yes, (Name). You are all Mine~ "That is great, we will pick you up in a few." 

"Okie doki!" (Name) says and eats the last bit of cheese. 

They wonder what prompted this. They shrug, whatever a free meal is a free meal. Soon Ozzie and Fizz are there and (Name) gets in with them. They drove down to Lust, (Name) talked to Fizz, they could tell that he was nervous. Was it because he was on edge because of the dinner? It was his idea, not (Name's). 

They got up to the penthouse and there was a candlelit dinner. Wait what was going on? 

"Were you guys planning a romantic date before inviting me?" (Name) asks. 

"Kind of. The romantic date is for you, (Name)." Fizz says and (Name's) face goes a bright red. Oh boy! 

"Hehe, oh that is a lot!" They laugh. "What does that mean, you two want a threesome." 

Ozzie pulls out a chair for (Name) and they sit down. 

"thank you." 

"Anything for you," Ozzie says. 

Fizz pulls out a box that looks oddly enough like an engagement box. 

"We both want you, (Name)," Fizz says. "We do, really bad, but we know at this time you are bonded to Stolas, Ozzie can break that bind and then you will be free. To be with us." 

(Name) takes the box and opens it, there is a crystal to have access to the human world. "Oh... Frick." They could not even swear, this is a lot. 

They also have feelings for Stolas. 

"Stolas cannot love you like we can," Ozzie says. "He is using you for his gain, he made a contract with you, so you will have to fuck him." 

(Name) bites their lip. 

"But we," Fizz adds. "We love you so much, I always have loved you, from since we were kids. You are just the perfect most wonderful darling." 

"Fizz is right, why be with Stolas, who is not good enough for you, who does not appreciate you and does not stand by your side?" Ozzie asks, both were manipulating (Name's) emotional state. 

"I-" 

"Let us love you." fizz says and kisses them. "Let us show you how much you mean to us~" 

(Name) felt their eyes tear up and they slowly kissed back Fizz. Fuck it was always what they wanted. 

Fizz pulls away, this is it (Name) is almost their Darling. 

"So what do you say, baby?" Ozzie asks. 

"Alright." (Name) agrees it felt nice for someone to say they wanted them, and not ask for anything in return. (Name) felt loved and it made them feel good. 

(Name) made the deal and they did not know that they just swore themselves to the Sin of Lust and His Imp lover, forever! 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another Chapter is done! I hope that you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!]