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jokeringcutio · 1 year ago

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Art the Clown x Reader (WARNINGS) Halloween smut.

AN: Follow me for more Halloween Reader Inserts. More stories will follow this month.

Drabble. Please read ALL warnings. Pairing: Art the Clown x Reader Rating: Explicit Summary: It is Halloween when you bump into a clown and, embarrassed, apologize. Later that evening, your roommate Meri seems to have invited that very same clown into your house for a bit of fun. But that fun turns quickly into a nightmare.

Warnings: Mention of Murder, Cannibalism, death of a friend, Sexual content, dub-con. Reader is scared of clowns. Implied Virginity/First Time. Mention of Blood. Coulrophobia.

The streetlights cast eerie shadows as you hurried home on Halloween evening, arms laden with bags of candy. It was the right atmosphere for it, you thought. All the shadows seemed longer, and in the dark, the ornaments of the houses seemed to come to life. Pumpkins, fake skeletons… Your heart pounded in your chest, the brisk autumn air chilling you to the bone.

As you turned the corner, you collided with a man dressed as a clown, gasping in shock. His attire immediately sent shivers down your spine; black and white suit divided vertically down the middle, large ruffles at his collar and cuffs. A tiny black hat perched atop a white bald cap, while his face was painted with stark contrasts of black and white makeup. The pointy nose bore a black dot, and his eyes were as dark as the abyss.

"Sorry, I didn't see you," you stammered, feeling your pulse race. As if it wasn’t bad enough that you accidentally walked into someone, he had to be dressed as a clown. And you had an irrational fear of clowns. You could not help but tremble and blush in embarrassment. Come on, you thought to yourself, it’s just a grown-up man wearing a costume. Clowns are supposed to be funny. Don’t be so scared.

Art the Clown stared at you silently, unblinking. It was unnerving, but you thought he took offense to the way you had reacted to his outfit. He probably had spent a lot of time getting dressed up, you thought, when you saw all the makeup he wore. And when people put a lot of effort into their costumes and looks, they want to be complimented. Not for some stranger to freak out and insult all of their hard work.

"I-I have coulrophobia,” you stammered, trying to explain your weird reaction to him. God, this was all so embarrassing. You wished you could just fade away. “I'm scared of clowns."

He tilted his head, a cruel smile forming on his painted lips. Nope, that definitely freaked you out again. You had to force a smile on your own, praying he did not see how much effort it took you to be kind and polite to him.

"Nice costume, though," you whispered while you let your eyes rove over his form shortly, just enough to note once again how oddly this man was dressed. Most clowns you met were colorful. But this one, he was grim. A true horror clown, you realized. He fits the theme of Halloween excellently.

“You’re going to enjoy yourself tonight,” you shyly mumbled, embarrassed by the entire encounter. You couldn’t wait to get away. Clutching the candy closer to your chest, you quickly bid him a good evening before stepping away from him and resuming your hurried pace toward home.

You felt the man’s eyes stare at your back until you rounded the corner.

A few hours had passed and children from all over the neighborhood came trick-or-treating at the door. Their laughter and excited chatter filled the air. You glanced at the clock. Just one more hour before the party started. Meri, your roommate, was already wearing a nice blue dress with a very short skirt. Deliberately. You knew she wanted to score tonight. Meri was like that, always eager for a nice time with a willing man.

You glanced down at yourself. You hadn’t really had the time to come up with something nice, but you knew that Meri had more than enough dresses in her closet. You’d borrowed some of her before.

“Yeah, you can borrow one of mine again,” you heard Meri say, and when you looked up you caught her looking at you with a grin.

“As if you can read thoughts,” you whispered, earning a chuckle from your friend.

“I can and I am damn good at it,” Meri said. “I have a pretty red one that would fit you well. Show a bit of cleavage,” she winked at you. “Can’t do no harm.” She turned around and beckoned you to follow her to her room. Once inside, she took the dress out of her closet and showed it to you. You chewed your lip worriedly.

“I don’t know,” you said, earnestly concerned about how revealing that dress actually was. Then your eye fell upon a dress you had borrowed from her before. “Can’t I just take the green one?”

Meri rolled her eyes. “God, no. You definitely need some action, babe. This dress will give you that. I guarantee it.” She thrust the dress into your hands and started to push you towards the door. “Go on, get changed.”

You were about to protest when the doorbell rang and you could hear kids shouting "trick or treat!" from beyond the door.

“I’ll get that,” Meri said with a wink. She smiled warmly at you while she made her way to the door. “Now go get changed, princess. I can’t go to the party with you dressed like that.”

You glanced down at yourself to see what she meant by that. Comfy pants, a baggy shirt, wintery socks. All right, you did not look like any of those women in the magazines. She had a point. With a sigh of defeat, you turned around to head to your own room.

But that was when an idea hit you.

Meri was answering the door. You could quickly slip into her room and pick up the green dress. It would only take a second.

Seizing the opportunity, you slipped into her bedroom, rummaging through her closet where you’d seen the dress you wanted to wear. With a bright smile, you found it. But just as your hand landed on the desired green dress, the sound of Meri's voice reached your ears. “Come in, thing. We can have a bit of fun in my room.”

You froze. The sound of footsteps heading your way made your heart leap into your throat. Had she invited someone in? By the sound of it, she was not alone.

Panicking, you dove into her wardrobe, the scent of her perfume enveloping you as you hid among her clothes.

Your breath hitched as Meri entered the room, the wardrobe door cracked open just enough for you to peek out. “Come on in, sweetheart,” Meri playfully said. You saw her beckon someone who was still on the other side of the threshold. Meri was horny, there was no doubt. You knew she had been so for a while now, hence why she insisted on going to the party tonight. But apparently, someone had come and offered himself willingly at your door. A friend? Someone you knew? Steve again? He would sometimes come around. Or Will?

But when Meri turned around, that excited smile still on her lips, you could finally see the man who wished to follow her into the bedroom. An oversized shoe appeared over the threshold, followed by a suit that was half black and half white.

The evening's events played like a twisted nightmare in your head, the clown’s haunting smile refused to leave your thoughts. It was him though. He was dressed exactly as before: black and white suit, pointy nose, black eyes that held a malicious glint. Fear gripped you, but curiosity kept you from fleeing. Was Meri actually going to have sex with this stranger?

Peeking through the crack in the wardrobe, you saw Meri lead Art the Clown into her bedroom, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Quite the costume," Meri purred, running her fingers over his ruffled collar. "I like a man who knows how to stand out."

She didn't seem to care about his silence, only growing bolder in her advances. The stranger sat himself on the edge of her bed and Meri purred again. You wanted to roll your eyes at the show she made. Slowly, she began to undress, exposing more and more of her flawless skin. Meri was beautiful like that. It had often irked you how easily some things came to her, simply because of her looks.

Meri moved her hips alluringly from side to side, unhooking her bra like a stripper before she let it drop to the floor. Her fingers pressed against her breasts, pushing them closer together while she let out a moan. Art's gaze never wavered, locked onto her every movement. Then she shimmied her panties down her hips, slowly stepping out of them.

"Want a taste?" Meri asked, lying back on the bed and spreading her legs. Your breath caught in your throat as Art moved closer, kneeling between her thighs. One bandaged hand was placed on her naked thigh. You could have questioned why the man remained in his costume, but you didn’t. Instead, you felt your breath hitch in your throat at the sight. Sensual, you thought. You felt your own body respond, slick gathering between your folds unbiddenly. And yet, you could not tear your gaze away.

The clown’s tongue darted out. You could see the pink coming from between the black of his lips. A slurping wet noise. "Y-yeah, just like that," Meri moaned, arching her back as he went down on her. Another slurp, another moan, another spark of arousal down your core. You pressed your legs shut, a hand firmly against your lower abdomen. You shouldn’t respond to this. You shouldn’t. "God, you're so good with your mouth," Meri gasped.

The clown gave no reaction. He continued to lick and slurp, his fingers folding Meri’s pussy lips aside so his mouth could easily reach her pearl. He was sipping, slurping, licking, and nipping and you could not tear your eyes away. It was a mesmerizing sight. Meri’s hand found his scalp, pressing him even deeper between her legs. He licked her now. Long, languid licks.

Meri shuddered in ecstasy, but after a few moments of the same, she started to catch her breath again. "Too bad my roommate isn't like this," Meri murmured, but you could hear it. "She's such a wallflower, probably never even had sex. Scared of it, I'd bet." You felt your face flush with shame, wondering if she knew you were hiding there, listening to her words.

“That’s it, baby,” Meri panted, the hand between her legs bobbing up and down faster now. “That’s it, make me cum.” The clown was working his magic apparently, because Meri threw her head back, lost in pleasure.

You bit your lip and clutched the green dress closer against your chest. You didn’t want to watch, knew it was supposed to be a private moment. But curiosity got the better of you, for Meri was right. You weren’t like her. You weren’t-

Suddenly, Meri screamed, her hands started clawing at the sheets. Her eyes turned wide, bulging, the screeching sounds of her screams were painful to your ears. It took you a moment to realize what you saw. The clown’s head kept bobbing up and down between Meri’s legs, but something was wrong now.

Those dreadful black-painted lips no longer glistened with fluids of passion, you realized with a shock. Instead, a darker liquid streamed down the man’s chin, and something large and chunky was caught between his teeth. Your eyes widened in horror as you realized Art was no longer merely pleasuring her. He was literally devouring her, tearing into her flesh with his teeth. Panic surged through you, but you couldn't look away. Your hands itched for your phone, to call 911, but you had left it in your room.

All you could do was watch. Watch and listen and pray.

Darkness surrounded the place. All you heard was your own heavy breathing, like a drum announcing a war. Your ears hurt, your throat was dry, your body felt numb. A horrible stench reached your nostrils.

It was over, had been so for possibly hours. You could not tell. You had not dared to move in case the clown had not left the house yet. But you had heard the door ages ago. Yet fear had kept you frozen.

An eerie silence filled the room. You stayed hidden in the wardrobe, paralyzed by terror until you were sure the clown must have left. Logic told you that you could not stay here forever. Shaking and weak-kneed, you slipped out of your hiding place.

Moving as silently as possible, you tiptoed through the dimly lit apartment, avoiding the gruesome scene in Meri's room. Whatever was left of her - and it wasn’t much – had dripped all over the bedroom walls and floor. Her bed was drenched in blood. All you wanted was to get your phone and call for help – you couldn't bear to look at whatever was left of your friend.

The door to your bedroom creaked open, and you stepped inside, the scent of lavender from your bedsheets a faint comfort in the midst of chaos. Your eyes darted around the room, searching for your phone. Hadn’t you left it on your nightstand? You felt around in the dark but found nothing. And so, with trembling fingers, you flicked on the light switch.

You looked at the nightstand first, but your phone was nowhere to be seen. Strange, you thought, and with a frown, you turned around. You’d closed the door upon entering, and it still was. But there was something odd about the shape of the shadow you saw that fell on it. Almost as if you had grown larger all of a sudden.

With eyes wide, you very slowly turned back to your nightstand. It was just as you had feared. There he stood, Art the Clown, grinning maliciously as he waved your phone in the air. Fear clawed at your throat, leaving you unable to scream or move. His black eyes bore into you, holding you captive.

"Please," you whispered, voice barely audible, "don't hurt me."

He didn't respond, his silence more chilling than any words could be. In one fluid motion, he lunged forward, overpowering you with ease. He threw you onto the bed, his bony fingers digging into your flesh, betraying his inhuman strength.

"Stop," you choked out, but he continued, undeterred. His fingers ran down your body nimbly as he tore off your clothes. Piece by piece. You heard the fabric rip and tear and had to squeeze your eyes shut. The sound reminded you too much of earlier. Of her. Your friend.

You hardly noticed how swiftly he had you exposed and vulnerable beneath him. Not until a cold puff of air made your nipples peak and you finally looked.

Pitch-black eyes bore into yours and you had to bite back a cry of fear. His face was very close to your own, hovering over yours. From this close, you could see the black paint around his eyes and lips, how there wasn’t a single crack in the white surrounding it. With a shock, you realized his teeth were a rotten color. Black, brown. But they weren’t ordinary teeth. As he grinned at you, you saw that something about his mouth was wrong.

Scary thoughts clouded your mind. Would he tear his teeth into your flesh like he had done with Meri? Would he torture you too? You forced yourself not to think back to any of it. Not to the pleasure you had felt at first, or the fear after, or the helplessness.

You became aware of the sound of fabric rustling and followed his movements with your eyes. His arm moved, his hand was doing something down below. Your eyes came to rest just below his abdomen. You had not thought his suit could open there, but it could. Something large and pale popped out of its confines. Flesh, you thought alarmed. Hard and large. Veins throbbed, purple and black. The head spilled a droplet of something white. Pre-cum.

This was his cock? This monstrously large cock was to fit inside of you?

Your mouth had been dry before, but it became impossible to swallow as you watched the clown position himself between your legs. You wanted to protest, say no, push him away. Your hands were upon his chest without thinking, but he was stronger than you. You stood no chance.

“No, please,” you gasped while he fumbled with his cock at your entrance. He looked down at himself as he tried to position himself and seemed annoyed when he couldn’t find your entrance. You felt the leaky head brush past your folds a few times and panicked. Your heart beat faster and your chest heaved rapidly.

“Please,” you begged again, your hands still pushing against his shoulders – to no avail. Then, you felt it. The head nudged against your entrance, parting your walls ever so slightly. But he had noticed it as well. Art’s sour expression made room for a smile as if he was relieved. His eyes darted up to meet yours again, silently telling you that this was going to be fun.

“It won’t fit,” you pleaded weakly, but your whispered words ended in a silent gasp when Art thrust forth, burying his large cock inside your deep warmth in one go. Too much. Your back arched, pressing your body up against his. Your naked breasts brushed past the coarse fabric of his suit. You didn’t care at this point that his clothes were riddled with spots of blood. Everything was focused on the feel of his shaft deep inside of you, hitting the depth of you mercilessly with a blunt thrust.

You gasped silently - as if the clown had ripped your voice away and had rendered you mute. Blood covered his shaft as he pulled out, making him smile even wider. Was that yours? You were pleading silently for this nightmare to end. But as he thrust inside of you, a shameful warmth began to spread through your body. Despite the terror, you found yourself responding to his touch, your heart racing for reasons other than fear. With your hands you tried to claw at him while his hands circled your hips, getting a good grip on your flesh before he started pounding into you in a steady rhythm.

That awful grin of his never seemed to leave his face. Not while he was treating you like a nice piece of meat, slapping your ass while he thrust inside of you. You could see his wicked teeth - black and brown and yellow - and had to force yourself not to think of what his mouth could do. His hips slapped against yours, hipbones prodding against your softer flesh. He was lean and nimble, but the grip he had on you with his hands was fierce and unyielding, certain to leave bruises.

A low moan threatened to spill from your lips and you rolled your head from side to side. What was he doing to you? The clown’s pointy chin brushed past your clavicle as he dipped his head forward, and then you felt his teeth brush past your skin. Scared that he would take a bite and tear out your flesh, you tried to arch your back away from him, but felt him respond by intensifying his grip and pushing you back down. As a response, you had earned a deep harsh thrust with his hips, feeling the head of his cock batter your cervix cruelly.

With each stroke deep inside, you felt your pussy lubricate the way for him. You felt your body respond to his wicked touch. Each slap against your ass had your walls squeeze down on him hard. Each thrust deep inside your core seemed to hit a delicious spot that made you see stars.

Breathlessly, you allowed him to rut inside of you, unable to stop him and unable to so much as make a sound while he pounded you into oblivion. You were helpless against the pleasure that threatened to consume you. He moved relentlessly, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

It didn't make sense – how could you enjoy this? Was there something wrong with you?

A few times you tried to close your eyes, but a slap to your cheek had you open them again to gaze up into the black depths of hell. His devilish smile was above you at all times, grinning down, reminding you of the pleasure he derived from your body. And the pleasure he gave you in turn. Sickening as it was, the demonic man above you managed to bring forth feelings that made your body tremble in agonizing pleasure.

When you came, your walls clamped down hard upon his shaft, milking him in a silent plea for more. You bit your lip from crying out. No way you’d show him that you enjoyed this. You wouldn’t give him the pleasure of your moans.

The silence made the wet sounds only seem louder. Wet thrusts of his cock as he slammed it inside of you hard, despite your walls milking him for all you were worth. Noises of sin, of pleasure, of lust. And then, as he finished inside of you, a shudder ran through your body, your climax tearing through you like a wildfire.

You were still biting your lip, aware it must be bleeding by now, but you’d be damned if you so much as would let him hear your passion. You glanced up at him. The wicked clown’s smile had disappeared. In its stead, you now saw a pensive, almost endearing look in his eyes, as he cocked his head and seemed to study you.

A calloused finger tilted your head back, revealing your throat to him while you looked back at him through half-lidded eyes. He tilted his head to the other side again, dick still twitching inside of your tight cunt, and seemed to study the tears in your eyes. You hadn’t noticed they had formed there. Would have wanted to say they were out of fear or sadness, rather than the harsh truth that they were out of pleasure.

With bated breath, you waited for what he was to do next. Would he kill you now, you wondered? The clown moved, his cock slipping from your core limply, leaving behind a trail of dark blood and yellowish cum.

He surprised you by moving forward, leaning on his elbows, as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead in a twisted mockery of tenderness. The contrast between his sadistic actions and this tender gesture only served to confuse you further.

You squeezed your eyes shut, thinking that surely this would be it. But the rustle of fabric against the bed indicated that he moved away. You waited and listened, heart beating wildly in your chest. But there was only the sound of another rustle. Plastic?

Curious, you opened your eyes to find Art standing several feet away. Picking up a garbage bag you hadn't noticed before, Art slung it over his shoulder and made his way to the window. Not the door, you noted. But the window. How odd?

He opened it. The sound of the window sent a shiver down your spine as you lay on the bed, watching the clown swing one leg over the edge and step outside. He turned around to face you. His black eyes glinted demonically in the darkness of the night – like little coals of fire. And then his smile returned once more. Seeing it, seeing him like that, made something twist deep inside of you.

And still, no sound could come forth from between your lips. The only thing you noticed was how warm your pussy felt at the sight of him, how your nipples peeked, and how your walls clamped down around his phantom cock, craving the real thing to be returned to you.

With a final, silent laugh, he blew you a kiss before disappearing into the night, leaving you alone in the aftermath of your orgasm, mind racing with a thousand unanswerable questions. ~ Fin ~

AN: Hope you enjoyed it :) ♡ Support me on Ko-Fi ♡ Love you all

#art x reader #art the clown x reader #terrifier #terrifier 2 #art the clown #art the clown x you

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eddiernunson · 1 year ago

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Be Quiet | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+

Blurb from my long form Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader story Trapped (Go check it out if you're in the mood for a long read)

[I'm not letting the notes I've gotten in the last 24 hours get to me, I swear]

Context? Meeting Uncle Wayne for the first time then fucking off to Eddie's room.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warning: squirting, light ball worship, oral (both), riding, slut shaming, dirty talk, *parent in the next room so shut up*, teasing/begging

“I know you’re nervous but it’s gotta happen some time.”

“Like you are meeting my mom and dad?”

Eddie’s eyes bulge, forgetting you had a normal set of parents he still had to meet. “Damn. Right. Anyway. It’ll be fine.”

The door swings open without needing a key. The two of you walk in, seeing Wayne Munson perched on the couch with his legs bent and feet on the coffee table holding a beer and watching a rerun of Cheers. A cigarette in his mouth, inhaling, laughing, and coughing as Ted Danson says something rather funny.

He jumps as the door closes, apparently not hearing Eddie’s loud engine. “Oh, hey kid.” Wayne grunts, putting his feet off the table and getting up to greet his nephew. “I see you brought a friend?”

“Of sorts.” Eddie shrugs, his hand flexing in yours.

“Hello,” you greet him, your nervousness obvious in your voice as you greet him. You face him for the first time, taking in the man who you assumed is the one who raised Eddie. Wayne Munson looks like what someone would define as a blue collared man. The plaid he’s wearing, the scruff on his jeans, and the smell and tint of dirt on his skin. He has thin hair on his head, completely thinned out in the middle.

Bald. He’s bald.

He has a scruff beard, and he doesn’t look like the most approachable person in the world. However, the way this man smiled at Eddie told you everything you needed to know about him. You hold your hand to him, testing the waters. Eddie muffles a laugh, smiling over you at Wayne.

Wayne laughs silently at the extended hand, grabs it and yanks you into a hug. It startles you, but the smell of the same cologne you smell on Eddie mixed with his gruff laughter as you yelp is oddly comforting. “Oh sunshine, I found my nephew singing a pop song in the shower last Sunday morning. I think we’re way passed a handshake.”

Wayne gives you one last squeeze and lets you go. You turn back to face your boyfriend, anticipating his reaction to this.

Eddie was looking at Wayne, the face of one who was severely betrayed. “You really gotta bring up singing in the shower?”

Wayne put his hands up in surrender, laughing as he goes back to return to the couch where his beer was sat and his cigarette out from lack of use. “Hey, man. You haven’t sung like that for a couple of years. I just had to let this kid know how much she means to you. In case you haven’t gotten the message across.”

You smile already fond of his uncle. “Wait until you meet my mom” you say, attempting to make him feel better. “She has stories on stories against singing in the shower. Though I gotta know the artist.”

“Not saying shit.” Eddie states, bouncing onto his toes and back onto his heels, representing his stubbornness.

Wayne jogs lightly to you, and whispers “Madonna” right near your face and giggles as Eddie loudly protests this second act of betrayal.

“I don’t know how I didn’t see my girlfriend and my uncle teaming up against me coming. This was bound to happen with you two.” He says, sounding disappointed but there was a hint of a smile his face.

“You picked a good one, that’s why,” Wayne says, sat back on his couch and grabbing his lighter and cigarette. “Nice to meet you, sunshine.”

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Munson,” you reply, the feeling of Eddie’s hand grabbing yours.

“Please, Mr. Munson is my shit brother. Call me Wayne. Please.”

“Okay. Will do.” You smile, your breath taken away as Eddie tugs you straight to his room.

“Edward!” Wayne calls as you almost reach his room.

Eddie sighs and turns around to ask what he wanted.

“Either be quiet or turn some music on. I don’t want to hear anything. Capiche?” He asks, a mildly smug but mostly a tired man who did not need to hear that on his one night off this week.

“Got it.” And the door closes behind you two.

You land on the bed with an oof as you lie onto your back, Eddie running around his room like a headless chicken. Eddie puts on some Journey, a tape he once received as a gift and only plays as background music for more tamer things. He turns up the volume enough, but not enough to drown your voices out.

Sitting up, you give him a look with an eyebrow raised, and your core heating up from the mere indication of putting on slightly loud yet tame music. You watch Eddie as he yanks off his jacket and vest, pulling off his shirt as well. He slips his hair back half up, and finally turns to face you with a knowing smirk.

“What are you up to?” You ask as he crawls on to the bed.

“Shh. Time for kissing.” He whispers and leans in with his delicious lips.

No matter how many times you have seen the sight of Eddie leaning in to kiss you, it never gets old. You’re absolutely positive it won’t ever get old.

Eddie’s lips are on yours, leading with a confidence that grows each time. If you’re not careful he will become hella cocky in his abilities. You meet his kiss with enthusiasm, opting to open your mouth ask for permission for your tongue to enter his. He grants you permission, a dark chuckle in the back of his throat as he sharply inhales. He places a hand into your hair, his thumb caressing the skin right underneath it.

You don’t know how, but you were getting wetter from kissing him alone. You could feel an urge to start to grind, your thighs clenching tightly. Lying down on your back, Eddie follows you down, slipping one hand underneath your shirt, the contact of his hand on your waist making you whimper.

“Feeling needy, princess?” He asks, his voice light. “You want me to do something?” Eddie starts kissing your neck, his tongue teasing by barely gracing your skin.

One arm is around your torso, his body lined up against yours and propped onto his elbow. You nod your head yes as he continues his assault on your neck, starting to use his teeth.

“What do you want me to do, use your words.” He whispers against your neck, his voice nice and smooth. He feels you clench your thighs, most of your lower body tightening right up. “Oh you are very needy, my love. But you’re going to have to tell me if you want me to do something, otherwise I’ll continue to do PG rated things on your neck.”

You whimper, thinking he wouldn’t be as cruel as to only stick to over your clothes type touching for the sake of teasing you. “Please, please touch me, Eddie. I need it. I need it so bad.”

“I am touching you” he mutters pressing his hand under your shirt on your torso a little harder on your skin.

A sound comes out of you that sounds like a sob, a pathetic little noise from being riled up so much already. You know if he were to take off your pants your panties would have a nice little wet patch on them. “My pussy, Eddie please. Touch it, I’m so fucking wet.” You beg him, whimpering.

Eddie admires the way he was able to make you fall apart simply by kissing you. He has been thinking of attempting something like this with you for about as long as he could handle. Your face was already scrunched up from the teasing, whimpering from the way he was teasing you and almost denying you what you so desperately craved.

“There you go sweetheart.” Eddie sits up, you with him. He crawls down to your waist, starting on the waistband of your pants. He tugs on it, forcing you to lift your hips. He throws them across the room and gets a good look at your pretty yellow panties with the bow on it you decided to wear, nearly groaning at the sight of the darkened patch at the centre. “Look at you,” he nearly chokes on air, catching his breath at the way your hips are so easily separated and you panting, staring up at him. “Is this all for me? Just from my lips kissing yours?”

“I’ve been wanting you all day,” you mumble, embarrassed. “Been thinking about your cock in class.”

“Oh, you dirty girl,” he mutters, entirely too turned on at the idea of you sitting in class and writing notes while thinking of him bending you over a desk in a nearby empty classroom. He rewards your confession with a kiss on your thigh, causing it to shake on almost immediate contact, the lick sending pleasure shocks up your body. He looks at you, surprised at the reaction, but it only encourages him to continue.

He laps further up your thigh causing your pussy to start to clench at the very idea of being in contact with his fucking beautiful tongue. Finally, he gets to the centre, the heated core where your pussy is begging for any sort of contact. “Baby, please” You beg him. “Lick my pussy. Eat me out. Fuck please.”

Usually, Eddie is the more verbal one, but you’re starting to catch on to the fact that every time you beg or confess something he rewards you. So here, instead of teasing you over your undies like he was planning, he rips them off in a singular motion. As soon as your panties are off, he attacks your clit with his tongue, your pussy already completely covered in your slick.

“Look how wet and pretty this little pussy is,” he mutters against your clit, the vibrations sending waves up your stomach. If he continues like this, you won’t last much longer. He slips in a finger, pumping it and sucking on your clit at the same time. “How does this feel, baby?”

You were so far gone you were surprised it even registered to answer, your stomach starting to tighten in the all too familiar way. “Feels- feels so good, Ed. Keep doing that.”

Eddie sucks on your clit even harder and adds a finger. You feel fuller and a red-hot heat starts on your clit, spreading in your legs and your stomach. It felt intense, and new. There was a very small part of you that remembered Wayne was in the living room. Instead of the loud moans you wanted to let out, it ended up being choked out moans, staying in the back of your throat.

You struggling to keep quiet was like music to Eddie’s ears. The way your legs were entirely tensed up was telling him you were close. He was surprised how little he did today to get you so close to the edge, wondering how long you must’ve been revved up for. He sucks as hard as he can on your clit, adding a third finger to you.

Suddenly, you’re hit with a wave of heat, something inside you tells you to push and relax a muscle you didn’t know you had. You feel heat all over your body, focused on your pussy and thighs and you hear a gushing sound. It takes you a second to come back to earth, your heart racing and giggles forming in the back of your throat. You sit up slowly to ask him who the fuck taught him to do that cause it wasn’t you when a large wet patch underneath your ass startles you.

It didn’t even occur to you that you have squirted, you were so blissed out. Confused you look at the darkened patch on the bed and then up to Eddie’s face. It’s covered in your slick, and he looks as stunned as you were. “Holy shit I made you squirt.” He mutters, taking one thumb and running it along his face to suck on your slick.

“I-I didn’t know I could even do that.” You whisper, starting at the large wet stain on his bed.

“That was so fucking sexy, baby.” He whispers back, leaning in to kiss you.

You lean back after receiving one kiss, the taste of your pussy/cum turning you on more than you thought it would. “You don’t want to wipe your face off?”

“Are you fucking kidding me, sweetheart?” He asks, dead serious. “I’m wearing this like a fucking trophy. I, a man who has fucked a total of three times, have made my girlfriend squirt. If I can do it any guy can.”

“Not just any guy is willing to go down on a girl like that, though.” You mutter, searching his face.

Eddie rolls his eyes, pouncing on you so you lie back onto the bed. “A guy who refuses to go down on a girl is a fucking whimp. It’s one of the best acts of worship you could possibly do.”

This sentence turns you on so much that you moan softly, leaning in for another you-tasting kiss. You reach down for his pants unbuckling his jeans and belt, needing to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue as lust overtakes and overconsumes your body. “Wanna taste you, now.” You mutter, leaning away to focus on getting his pants off.

After fidgeting for too long, you maneuver him onto his back getting a better angle to blow him.

“Oh, fuck please.” Eddie mutters, a fraction of his confidence gone in the idea of your mouth around his cock.

You yank his briefs and his jeans off all at once, having teased him a bit last time. You just wanted to show him how much making you feel so damn good made you feel. You crawl up to his cock and start fisting him without any warning. Eddie lurches in your hold, his chest lifting with is legs. He really needed the release as well, it seems.

Your hand stops moving, and you lean down, gently kissing along the shaft in different spots. You go up and down several times, not wanting him to know when you were taking him in his mouth. After your third round of up and down Eddie’s hips buck up, silently asking you fucking suck on his cock already. You giggle softly and decide to take pity on him. You open your mouth and finally take him in, his cock going to the centre of your mouth.

Eddie moans softly and you feel his thighs tense. You start sucking and bobbing, getting a rhythm started. “Oh Jesus you do so fucking well with your pretty little mouth, baby.” He rambles, his mouth talking out of habit.

You hum, causing a vibration sent down. Taking your mouth off, you decide something spontaneous, and take one of his balls onto your mouth, sucking on it loudly.

Eddie jerks up in response to this, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. You feel proud of yourself for getting this reaction and you move to the next one. You bring his heavy cock back into your mouth and take him in as much as you can. You start the rhythm again, and you can feel him getting more desperate as you continue.

Eddie taps your head, asking you silently to come up to him. You wanted to continue sucking him off, but you obliged anyhow. It was proving that listening to him paid off.

“Come here.” He says when you crawl up to him. “You do so well, baby. Be a good girl and put your cock in, yeah? I wanna fuck you so bad now.”

You take off your baggy shirt, revealing you wore no bra. Your nipples were nice and hard, Eddie grabbing one of your tits as soon as he saw them. You whimper at the sensation, feeling nice and tingly. Finally, you were both naked. You move your leg over his lap, straddling him. You haven’t ridden him yet and you were fucking excited to. As you sit down, Eddie grabs his cock, lining it up with your entrance but just off. He takes his hand off his cock and you whine at the loss of the possibility of you finally being full of him. “No, no. Remember, I told you to put it in. You can do it, my little slut. Go ahead.”

You reach down between your legs to line up his cock with your entrance. Eddie looks down as the head starts to go in, moaning at the sight of your hand doing such a thing. You moan as his cock enters, both at the slight pain and the immense pleasure already pooled in your tummy again.

As the pain settles after a shorter period than last time, you go as far as you can go, not warning Eddie and making him moan loudly. “Shh.” You say, placing your hand over his mouth. “Remember.”

Eddie nods, his eyes wide, but you feel his cock twitch. You almost remove your hand when he desperately grabs it and places it back over his mouth, nodding. You smile, this being far too hot to handle. You add light pressure with your hand, and finally, you’re able to finish sinking onto his cock. “Holy fucking- holy shit.” You whisper as he moans loudly into your hand.

Slowly, you start grinding on his cock, unable to remember when the last time you rode anyone was but knowing you still had some skill regardless. He was longer than you figured, sliding up and farther than you thought you could. As you slam down onto it again Eddie rolls his eyes and is muffled as he moans in your mouth again, a strain of profanities you wish you could hear.

Soon, you find your thighs aren’t doing the job you needed them to, and you stand onto your feet in a froggy style and start bouncing on his cock. This causes a moan so loud your hand barely hid it, Eddie pussy drunk as you stare half lidded into his eyes. His cock is hitting the right spot and you can feel your self getting close as he starts assisting you, moving his hips.

Before you knew what was happening, he got impatient and grabbed your waist and turned you onto your back. You were so surprised your hand flew off his mouth. He put his hand on yours, wanting to be in control. “Now you can moan as long as you want, you little slut,” he whispers, his hand hard on your mouth but literally the hottest thing in the world. He changes from missionary and hikes your legs up so you two were in an L.

You were accidentally edged earlier, but you felt it coming just as fast again, and the way your knees bent on his chest was the dead giveaway. “Are you close, princess? Come on, cum. I wanna feel you as you moan onto my hand. Come on. Come on you slut. Come-”

Eddie got more aggressive, but it did the trick with the slut shaming doing more than you ever expected. The coil in your tummy snaps, sending waves of pleasure through your body and a white-hot flash past your eyes. You yell loudly into his hand, yelling words you weren’t sure they would make sense even if you didn’t have his hand clamped over your mouth.

As Eddie felt you come around his cock, your wet heat spasming it drew him to his orgasm faster than he was expecting. “Holy shit – Im gonna,” he stops, white hot cum shooting into your pussy, his orgasm overtaking him far faster than he expected.

His hand leaves your mouth, and he falls next to you. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” he starts to say, but you crawl into his arms and cut him off.

“Don’t care. I will need a morning after pill to make sure we don’t fuck over your uncle a second time, but I don’t care. I love the feeling of your cum in me.” You tell him honestly, leaning in for a kiss.

“I’m pretty sure I made you up,” Eddie mutters as he musters the energy to get up. He does, grabbing a towel and coming back to clean you up. “Hold on, be right back.”

Eddie gets changed into sweats and a band t shirt and runs into the trailer to get a glass of water. When he returns, he has a wet cloth as well and a shit eating grin on his face.

“What happened?” You ask, afraid to know the answer.

“He left a note.”

You didn’t see it when he first came in, a cloth against the mug of water he brought. “What does it say?”

Eddie giggles as he lifts it up and clears this throat dramatically. “It says, ‘You kids don’t know the meaning of the word quiet. I went for a walk. I’ll be back at 11.”

You put your hands over your mouth, mortified that after meeting his uncle its followed by fucking too loud and forcing him out of his own trailer. Eddie doesn’t seem to find this embarrassing, but rather funny. Silently you ask him why he’s laughing. “I didn’t think I would ever be able to fuck so loud that my uncle had to leave, seeing as my virginity status was bound to last until college.” He sighs looking off into distance. “Dreams really do come true.”

You get up, knees weak to grab the cloth in his hands. “I’ll take that.”

“AH ah ah.” He yanks it out of reach. “Lie down. Let me take care of you. Then we’ll go watch something in the living room before I drive you home, ok?”

You lie back down, Eddie placing a nice warm cloth on your pussy to clean it. When he’s done, he gives you some water. “Do you need a shower?” He asks, offering a clean towel from the linen closet. You nod your head no, thinking you’ll just take one at home and you wanted more time together.

Eddie shrugs and gives you your clothes and lets you know he’ll meet you in the living room and it’s his turn to pick the movie.

After Wayne gives you an extra half hour of wiggle room, he finds you sitting on the couch, you refusing to make eye contact as he walks in. He sits next to you anyway, already forgotten.

You guyssss have blown me away with the love you have shown these little blurbs I cannot thank you enough. Please let me know what you thought pls I love reading it... xoxo

Again there are more smut scenes in the long story that I won't be posting as a stand alone (like Eddie's their first time.)

#eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x you smut

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hollowed-theory-hall · 28 days ago

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Harry's Intuition

I talk a lot about Harry on here (cause he's my favorite 😍), and I talked about his intelligence already, but now I wanna talk about his intuition. Because that boy's intuition is on another level. Whether it be about a person, or about magic, Harry's intuition is almost never wrong. And he makes some leaps in logic that are proven right.

So... maybe he does have an eye for divination after all...

Like, I want to note first how Harry thinks when under the effects of Felix Felicies:

Why he knew that going to Hagrid’s was the right thing to do, he had no idea. It was as though the potion was illuminating a few steps of the path at a time: He could not see the final destination, he could not see where Slughorn came in, but he knew that he was going the right way to get that memory. When he reached the entrance hall he saw that Filch had forgotten to lock the front door. Beaming, Harry threw it open and breathed in the smell of clean air and grass for a moment before walking down the steps into the dusk.

(HBP, 478-479)

He doesn't know why he's doing what he's doing, he just knows it's what he needs to do to get what he wants. Felix Felicies just kinda cranks his intuition up to eleven... but then even without the potion, Harry has very similar intuitive thoughts and leaps that are more often than not proven to be correct.

Here are some examples, though this is in no way a comprehensive list:

Harry opened his trunk again and pushed the contents aside, looking for the Invisibility Cloak — but before he had found it, he straightened up suddenly, looking around him once more. A funny prickling on the back of his neck had made Harry feel he was being watched, but the street appeared to be deserted, and no lights shone from any of the large square houses.

(PoA, 32)

He sees the street is deserted, but he feels Sirius watching him from the bushes all the way back in PoA.

And then he heard Mad-Eye Moody’s voice, echoing in some distant chamber of his empty brain: Jump onto the desk . . . jump onto the desk. . . . Harry bent his knees obediently, preparing to spring. Jump onto the desk. . . . Why, though? Another voice had awoken in the back of his brain. Stupid thing to do, really, said the voice. Jump onto the desk. . . . No, I don’t think I will, thanks, said the other voice, a little more firmly . . . no, I don’t really want to. . . . Jump! NOW!

(GoF, 231)

The way Harry interacts with the Imperius was always really interesting to me. This too, is an example of Harry instinctively understanding magic and just acting on instinct in general in a way most won't.

He was riding on the back of an eagle owl, soaring through the clear blue sky toward an old, ivy-covered house set high on a hillside. Lower and lower they flew, the wind blowing pleasantly in Harry’s face, until they reached a dark and broken window in the upper story of the house and entered. Now they were flying along a gloomy passageway, to a room at the very end . . . through the door they went, into a dark room whose windows were boarded up. . . . Harry had left the owl’s back . . . he was watching, now, as it fluttered across the room, into a chair with its back to him. . . . There were two dark shapes on the floor beside the chair . . . both of them were stirring. . . . One was a huge snake . . . the other was a man . . . a short, balding man, a man with watery eyes and a pointed nose . . . he was wheezing and sobbing on the hearth rug. . . .

(GoF, 576)

This above dream shows Voldemort is different from the dreams Harry usually gets through the Horcrux connection. Usually, with the Horcrux, he'll see what Voldemort is doing through Voldy's eyes. He'd be inside Voldemort's head. Here, in GoF, not only is he not in Voldy's head, he starts out outside the building altogether. This above dream doesn't behave like other Horcrux dreams, but it is truly happening.

Basically, maybe Trwalany is right:

“Of course he isn’t!” said Professor Trelawney, looking thoroughly excited. Her great eyes loomed over Harry, gazing at him. “What was it, Potter? A premonition? An apparition? What did you see?” “Nothing,” Harry lied. He sat up. He could feel himself shaking. He couldn’t stop himself from looking around, into the shadows behind him; Voldemort’s voice had sounded so close. . . .

(GoF, 577)

These next two scenes are about Harry's magic which I talked about more here and here:

“Disillusionment Charm,” said Moody, raising his wand. “Lupin says you’ve got an Invisibility Cloak, but it won’t stay on while we’re flying; this’ll disguise you better. Here you go —” He rapped Harry hard on the top of the head and Harry felt a curious sensation as though Moody had just smashed an egg there; cold trickles seemed to be running down his body from the point the wand had struck.

(OotP, 54)

As Dumbledore spoke, Harry heard a rustle behind him and rather thought Kingsley whispered something. He could have sworn too that he felt something brush against his side, a gentle something like a draft or bird wings, but looking down he saw nothing there. [...] “Just nod or shake your head, dear,” Umbridge said coaxingly to Marietta. “Come on, now, that won’t activate the jinx further. . . .” Everyone in the room was gazing at the top of Marietta’s face. Only her eyes were visible between the pulled up robes and her curly fringe. Perhaps it was a trick of the firelight, but her eyes looked oddly blank. And then — to Harry’s utter amazement — Marietta shook her head.

(OotP, 615-616)

But I wanted to note that Harry intuitively feels magic in a way others don't. So it's not just regarding events. He's just, so very intuitive and I feel that Harry's insane intuition, both about events and about magic isn't explored enough.

Harry had an unpleasant sensation in his chest. He didn't want to say goodbye to Sirius. He had a bad feeling about this parting. He didn't know when they would see each other.

(OotP, 523)

Harry's intuition literally foretold Sirius was about to die. Harry felt it. His intuition, somehow, knew it was the last proper goodbye they'd ever have.

Harry broke off, his eyes fixed on the window behind Hermione, his mouth open. A startling thought had just occurred to him. “Harry?” said Hermione in an anxious voice. “What’s wrong?” “Your scar’s not hurting again, is it?” asked Ron nervously. “He’s a Death Eater,” said Harry slowly. “He’s replaced his father as a Death Eater!” There was a silence; then Ron erupted in laughter. “Malfoy? He’s sixteen, Harry! You think You-Know-Who would let Malfoy join?”

(HBP, 130)

Harry makes the leap of logic of Draco being a Death Eater. He has some evidence, but this is one of Harry's realizations that is a result of intuition along with some minimal evidence. It's why Rona and Hermione are doubtful, there isn't much in the way of evidence, but Harry didn't reach this conclusion based on evidence — he reached it based on intuition. And he was right.

Dumbledore was standing in the middle of the cave, his wand held high as he turned slowly on the spot, examining the walls and ceiling. “Yes, this is the place,” said Dumbledore. “How can you tell?” Harry spoke in a whisper. “It has known magic,” said Dumbledore simply. Harry could not tell whether the shivers he was experiencing were due to his spine-deep coldness or to the same awareness of enchantments. He watched as Dumbledore continued to revolve on the spot, evidently concentrating on things Harry could not see.

(HBP, 557-558)

I already mentioned this scene in a previous post, but I really like how it illustrates the difference between how Harry intuitively sees magic and how Dumbledore studied magic as a very scientific pursuit. Harry is a person of intuition and his understanding of magic and his problem-solving methods are a lot of time based on his intuition and gut feeling. And, it's not a bad thing — his intuition is fucking amazing!

In Deathly Hallows Harry has so many of these moments of intuition and I tried to compile the big ones I noticed.

Harry stared at the creature, filled with wonder, not at her strangeness, but at her inexplicable familiarity. He felt that he had been waiting for her to come, but that he had forgotten, until that moment, that they had arranged to meet. His impulse to shout for Hermione, which had been so strong a moment ago, had gone. He knew, he would have staked his life on it, that she had come for him, and him alone. [...] When Ron offered the sword, however, Harry shook his head. “No, you should do it.” “Me?” said Ron, looking shocked. “Why?” “Because you got the sword out of the pool. I think it’s supposed to be you.” He was not being kind or generous. As certainly as he had known that the doe was benign, he knew that Ron had to be the one to wield the sword. Dumbledore had at least taught Harry something about certain kinds of magic, of the incalculable power of certain acts.

(DH, 366, 373)

I mentioned this scene already, but like, it's insane Harry's intuition just tells him to follow the doe and that same intuition tells him that Ron should use the sword. I mean read the passage about how Harry feels about following the doe and how he feels about going to Hagrid under the effects of Felix Felicies — it's so similar it's kind of insane.

“Homenum revelio,” said the voice at the foot of the stairs. Harry heard Hermione gasp, and he had the odd sensation that something was swooping low over him, immersing his body in its shadow.

(DH, 421)

Another scene of Harry feeling magic in a way others don't from DH.

and then the newly tapped spring of fabulous discoveries threw him another gift, and shock and wonder erupted inside him so that he shouted out. “IT’S IN HERE! He left me the ring—it’s in the Snitch!” “You—you reckon?” He could not understand why Ron looked taken aback. It was so obvious, so clear to Harry. [...] “This is it?” Harry said, trying to bring them inside the glow of his own astonished certainty, “This explains everything. The Deathly Hallows are real and I’ve got one—maybe two—“ He held up the Snitch. “—and You-Know-Who’s chasing the third, but he doesn’t realize. . . he just thinks it’s a powerful wand—“ “Harry,” said Hermione, moving across to him and handing him back Lily’s letter, “I’m sorry, but I think you’ve got this wrong, all wrong.” “But don’t you see? It all fits—“

(DH, 431, 433)

Again, Harry makes some intuitive leaps, and he is right about all of them. He is right the stone is in the snitch and that Dumbledore intends him to have all the Hallows. He's right Voldemort is after the Elder Wand — he's right about all of this, but how he gets to these conclusions is very much an intuitive leap.

He did not know why he was doing it, why he was approaching the dying man: he did not know what he felt as he saw Snape’s white face, and the fingers trying to staunch the bloody wound at his neck. Harry took off the invisibility cloak and looked down upon the man he hated, whose widening black eyes found Harry as he cried to speak. Harry bent over him, and Snape seized the front of his robes and pulled him close.

(DH, 657)

Again, Harry doesn't know why he's approaching Snpae, he just knows he needs to. Like, seriously, Harry spends a good chunk of book 7 acting like he's under the unluckiest version of Felix Felicies out there...

Though, as I mentioned, these intuitive moments happen even in the earlier books. I just think book 7 Harry trusts his instincts and intuition more than he did when he was younger and that's why we see more of it.

“Blimey, Harry, you nearly gave me heart failure!” Harry had pulled off the Cloak: The idea had come to him out of nowhere, born out of a desire to make absolutely sure. “Where are you going, alone?” Neville asked suspiciously. [...] “Just in case they’re — busy — and you get the chance — ” “Kill the snake?” “Kill the snake,” Harry repeated.

(DH, 695)

Again, he has an instinct to tell Neville to kill Nagini — an instinct that proves correct and crucial.

I don't know what's my conclusion from all of this... I mean, I know when I'm writing Harry I try to remember he has insane gut feelings that prove surprisingly accurate a lot of times. Like, I think a lot of why Harry comes off as impulsive at times is because of how intuitive he is and how much he trusts his instincts and intuition — that being said, he's kinda right to do so. It's another aspect of his character I find interesting and not nearly talked about enough.

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #hollowedtheory #harry potter meta #harry james potter #my best boy hjp

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skylarsblue · 8 months ago

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★RDR2 Incorrect Quotes★

(If you see duplicates from my COD version of these? Shh, no you didn't) ★Border made by @fairytopea★

Ms.Grimshaw What are you doing, you oaf? Young!Arthur, staring at Y/N: They’re pretty. Ms.Grimshaw …and you’re ugly, now get back to work.

- (Pre-joining the gang) Abigail, trying to get paid: What’s your favorite color, John? John: Blue. No, green. Abigail: Awesome! I love learning about you. John: I fucked up, it’s yellow.

- Arthur, cutting a huge knot out of John’s hair: I fucked up, we gotta go bald. *head locks him still* Young!John, flailing violently: WAAAAAHHHH-

Seán: Psst, Lenny, ay mate, wake up! Lenny: Huh- Wh-what? What is it? Seán: I heard something outside the tent. Lenny: What? Seán: Like a woman crying in the distance, but I couldn’t hear her footsteps. Lenny: Okay?? What do you want me to do? Seán: Come look with me! Lenny: Hell no! Seán: Why not? Lenny: I got too much melanin and too much sense for that white people shit. You wanna let demons get you, be my guest, leave me out of it.

- (John HAD to have SOMETHING that captivated her, for humor’s sake? We’ll say he had jokes)

Abigail: You have to find my darling husband, I’m so worried about him. Arthur: Seriously, what do you see in that guy? Abigail: He makes me laugh.

- Micha: I've got the urge to say something. Arthur: And what's that? Micha: The N-Word- Arthur: WHOA-

- Bill: But seriously, is it your whole emo thing that she’s into or what? John: …yeah, long flowing straight hair, very emo.

- Karen: This- Hmm. Tilly: Be nice. Karen: I’m findin’ it. Mary-Beth: …it takes you that long to find- Karen: It does, it does.

- (O’Driscoll troubles) Kieran: Arthur we’re going to get murdered. We’re going to get murdered by a man who can’t tie a fucking bow tie. Arthur: At least he won’t torture us, can’t tie a rope either.

- John: Ugh, you know they’re gonna make us do one of those tacky family happiness photos that comes in the restaurants shitty frame. Tilly: Why are you so fucking negative all the time? John: Wh- uh- I just- Arthur: *slowly sucks tea through straw*

- Seán: Someone just said; “You’re a criminal!” Seán: *handkerchief on, gun in one hand, bag of money in the other* Seán: Well I’ll tell ya what, Sherlock Holmes. You are unbelievable.

- The Gang: Arthur is dying and Micha is a rat! Dutch, dancing with money: *insert that audio that goes “I don’t give a fuck cause I’m a ✨millionaire✨, I do what I want, middle finger in the air!”*

- John, drunk: You think the wind is ever tryna tell us something and we don’t know how to hear it anymore? Charles, loading up a drunk Arthur into a wagon: I just want you to stop saying odd shit.

- Abigail: If we lose, I’m gonna cut the judge. John: Wh- you brought your switchblade?? Abigail: Mhm. John: But they patted us down on the way in, where did you hide i- ohhhhhhh.

- Arthur: …you ever wish you could just, turn into a bird and fly away from everything? Charles: I think we need to get you to a therapist for depression. John: I’d wanna be a wolf. Charles: And we should get you psych evaluation for Autism.

- Sheriff: You seem like a reasonable and good natured person. Arthur: *looks around* And you look like you need glasses.

- Abigail: What would your father say?! Jack: Uhhh “I’ll fix it!” And then make it worse until luck comes around and makes it work, and then act like that was the plan the whole time? Abigail: …that’s my bad, I should’ve used a different phrase to express my disappointment.

- (I dunno why but John being super mean to some people is so fucking funny to me. I don't hate Bill, but bullying him is fun)

Bill: You enjoyin’ the wife everyone else paid to have? John: You mean the woman I never had to pay for? The woman who liked me so much, she didn’t ask for any money to sleep with me? In fact; she liked me so much, she married me? The woman who makes me a warm dinner and kisses me everyday? Mother of my child? John: I am enjoyin’ yeah. What about you, Bill? Bill: John: You enjoyin’ your lonely life, you unlovable sorry sack of shit? You enjoyin’ having to pay for someone to pretend they like you? Cause they never actually do. They hate you actually, like me. I hate you. Eat shit and die, Bill.

- Arthur: …him? Really? Mary-Beth Don’t be mean! Arthur: He looks like a rescue dog, Mary-Beth. Mary-Beth: I know, I like that! Arthur: ….you like that?? Mary-Beth: His pathetic wet eyes and general wimpy stature have captivated me. Arthur: *sigh* Whatever makes you happy.

- Bill: At the end of the day, Arthur. I am a MAN. Arthur: A MAN WHO’S GAY. You like fellers GETTHATTHROUGHYOURHEAD!

- Dutch: I have a plan. Hosea: You haven’t planned shit. Dutch: I’ve planned it.

- Hosea: Arthur! What on earth are you doing?! Young!Arthur: Getting rid of this demon. Young!John: *screeching and trying to get out of Arthur’s grip* Hosea: And why do you plan to get rid of him? Arthur: Because, Hosea! He woke me up by leaning over me and whispering, “I know what death feels like, it’s cold. Have you felt death?” Arthur: HE’S CLEARLY EVIL, HOSEA Hosea: That’s just how children are, Arthur. Dutch: He’s right son, put the boy down. Dutch, leaning and whispering to Hosea: But maybe we should buy a Bible just in case. Hosea: And a cross.

- (Modern au and suicide joke)

John: It’s not a phase! It’s a lifestyle, you just wouldn’t get it! Arthur: You think I didn’t go through the “I can’t tell if I want to kill myself or everyone around me” phase? Come on. John: What? I don’t wanna kill myself at all. Arthur: … John: … John: Should I- should we go talk to Hose- Arthur: We should forget this conversation happened. Take this Nirvana CD and keep your mouth shut.

- Abigail: …John. John: Yes, my angel? Abigail: You forgot something. John: No I didn’t! I took the list with me, checked it three times, even crossed things off when I put it in the cart! See, look. Apples, frozen hamhocks, cranberry juice- Abigail: John. You took Jack with you. John: Abigail: John: Abigail: John: SHIT I LEFT HIM BY THE PASTA SECTION Abigail: STOP STANDING THERE AND GO GET HIM!

- Jack: Pa, how did you get mom to marry you? John: Well son, I- John: John: I have no idea. Jack: Should I ask mom? John: I’ll be honest, I don’t think she knows the answer either.

- Charles: You did good back there. Arthur: Oh? Heh, nah, you did all the fancy stuff. I just helped. Charles: Don’t undersell yourself, Arthur. I wouldn’t be complimenting you for no reason. Arthur: Oh yeah? And here I thought you were just trying to fluff up my ego. Charles: Wouldn’t hurt to do when you work so hard, no? Arthur: Now you’re just being’ sweet- John: Can y’all wait til we’re done before you start your spiritual dick sucking? Arthur: Can you repent to the lord fast enough to save your soul in the time it’ll take me to throw you into the damn ocean, Marston?!

- Arthur: Do you even have a brain? John: Do you even have someone that loves you? Arthur: John: John: I heard it that time, I’m sorry. Arthur: This is what Abigail hears sometimes, just so you know. John: I heard it that time, I got it. I- I’ll just- Arthur: Whiskey, full bottle. The nice kind. John: Apology alcohol, got it.

NPC: My husband’s parents are so crazy. In-laws always are, huh? Abigail: Well, uh-

*John being an orphan* *John’s adoptive dads being criminals, one particularly off his rocker*

Abigail: ….aha, yeah;;

- Abigail: John Marston, you useless, foolish, stupid man! Bill: To hell with John! Abigail, suddenly with a very large gun: NO ONE INSULTS MY HUSBAND.

- Arthur, holding up a proper painting he actually put time and effort into: Could a depressed person make this? Charles: The painting: *a wolf in the rain laying it’s head over the body of a deer shot with an arrow* Charles: I’m, in fact, more convinced you have depression now. Arthur: …yeah this wasn’t the best evidence for my argument, huh? Charles: No. Not at all.

- John: What are you talking about? That’s completely normal, it’s like having opinions. just cause it doesn’t happen to you doesn’t mean- Tilly: No, John! No. It’s not normal to have that reaction to the sound of hearing metal on metal. John: No look, uh- Arthur! Arthur come here! Arthur: What now? John: What happens when you hear metal on metal? Like, a can bein’ rubbed with a knife. Arthur: Ugh, I hate that sound. It makes my damn skin crawl, like I got beetles underneath. Makes me wanna skin myself to get’em out. John: Right! See, Tilly? It’s not just me! Tilly: ????

Charles: …and you never got them evaluated? Hosea: In hindsight, an autistic diagnosis probably would’ve made more things make sense. But, what can ya do.

- Arthur after a dog didn’t positively react to him: Maybe this is my final straw. Charles: No. Arthur: It might be. Charles: It’s one dog. There are twenty that you stopped to pet along the way here, plenty more for you to pet after this. Arthur: You don’t understand, this is devastatin’. Charles: Arthur, please- Arthur: Utterly devastatin’, Charles.

- Arthur, tipsy: Just cause you’re gorgeous don’t mean I’ma do whatever you say. Charles: Drink the water, Arthur. Arthur: *grabs the glass* Yes, sir.

- (Got a Y/N one, also, modern Au)

Arthur: That’s the Aberdeen farm. Y/N: …what’s wrong with it? Arthur: What’cha mean? Y/N: The vibes, they’re off. Arthur: …the…vibes? Y/N: The energy, Mister Morgan. The vibe of the place. They’re off, they’re weird, wack even. I sense insidious and wretched wavelengths wafting from the aura of that property. Arthur: I see…well, to answer your question, it’s cause they are weird. And I ain’t even confirmed why cause I don’t really wanna know. Y/N: I see you can also sense the vibes are rank. Arthur: …sure, whatever that means.

- Micha: Well I think- Y/N: Well I’m certain no one fucking asked, Micha! Not a single damn person asked what the hell you thought, ever! In fact, I’m pretty sure you don’t think. I’m pretty sure your skull fills with all the bullshit in your organs, and it just spills out your mouth! Micha: Micha: I- Y/N: Shut up, Micha!

- Arthur, after Albert explains some super dangerous plan in order to get wild animals near him to photograph: You’re stupid, I like that in a man.

- Y/N: Bye Arthur, bye Karen, bye Hosea, bye Arthur. Sadie: You said ‘bye Arthur’ twice. Y/N: I like Arthur.

- NPC: Lovebirds, eh? Sadie: Arthur: Sadie: I’d rather eat a poison ivy plant with Holly Berries for dressing. *looks at Arthur* No offense. Arthur: No no, none taken. All things considered, I’d rather dive into a pit of tar and then drag myself face first through a plain of rotten chitlins. Sadie: Completely fair!

- Bill: I need you to realize you ain’t in charge here. Y/N: I need you to realize I don’t give a shit.

- Arthur: Hey Charles, uh, I got an Uhm…a spiritual question. Charles: Any particular reason you chose to ask me? Arthur: Uh well- I didn’t mean for it to be like that- I just- Charles: *sigh* What is it? Arthur: Do you know what it means when an elk stands up on its back legs? Charles: That means- Charles: WE SHOULD LEAVE, we need to leave, that’s what that means!

- Jack: …why are your boobs so big? Charles: They’re not boobs. Jack: Do you have to wear a brasier? Charles: *sigh* Arthur: He asked me the same thing a couple weeks ago, don’t think to hard bout it.

(Story spoilers!!) Y/N: I'm sorry, let me get this straight. Y/N: You picked up that man when he was a destitute child, grieving and starving. Taught him almost everything he knows. Y/N: Then, you did that with, what? Three others? In similar circumstances? Y/N: Created a sense of family and community, a strong bond between so many misfortuned people. With your trustworthy long term friend by your side. Y/N: And then. Y/N: One RAT. WHO IS OPENLY ANTAGONISTIC AND REEKS OF SUSPICION AS MUCH AS HE DOES HORSE SHIT, SOMEHOW CONVINCES YOU TO GO OFF YOUR ROCKER AND HARM YOUR GANG?! Y/N: Explain! Dutch: Dutch: Dutch: He praised me- Y/N: YOUR PRAISE KINK GOT YOU TO AIM A GUN AT YOUR SONS????

- Arthur: Naaah they’re an angel. Lenny: They punched Bill in the face. Seán: They told Strauss he was a waste of human material, in his own language, which they’re not fluent in. Mary-Beth: They framed Micha for a crime and got him put in prison again. Arthur: Like I said, an angel!

- John: Woman. (Translation: Darling.) Abigail: Moron. (Translation: Lovebug.)

Arthur: You tellin’ me they’re being affectionate right now? Jack: Can’t’cha read subtext, Uncle Arthur? Arthur: ???

(Insert Alcohol is truth serum reference)

Drunk Bill: Not to be gay, but you’re gorgeous bro. Kieran, afraid: You don’t have to be gay to appreciate a man’s beauty. Absolutely shit-faced Bill: Nah, like I’d fuck you, bro. Kieran, terrified: Okay, never mind!

- (How I imagine their first couple years together went)

Dutch: Dutch: Dutch: Dutch: How do you feel about me? Hosea, naked & beside him: ….we’re sharin’ a bedroll, Dutch. Dutch: Yes, but what are we, Hosea? Hosea: ….we’re both naked, alone, in a tent, Dutch. Dutch: That doesn’t answer my question. Hosea:

- (This one's sad, not funny, sorry-) John: You’re such a hypocrite, why is it that anything I do that you’ve done before that you get so bent outta shape?! Arthur: Because I’ve done it before you, John. John: So why do you think it’s fair to tell me not to?! Most people are proud when their younger brother ends up like’em. You don’t want anyone like you, is that it? Arthur: John: John: …oh. Arthur: Now that you got my point, will you take my god damn advice without a big fuss…please.

- John: She drives me insane! She somehow managed to make me the angriest I’ve ever been almost daily. NPC: Then leave her. John: The fu- no. What? She’s the wind beneath my wings, my darling wife, my beautiful angel. How the hell could you even think to suggest such a thing? NPC: But- John: Get outta my sight, you fuckin’ disgrace.

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queenie-avenue · 10 months ago

Text

Kissed by Aphrodite.

💌 ⤻ft. THE CEO, THE CHEERLEADER, THE BASEBALL PLAYER, THE ACADEMIC RIVAL

—> how they look in the mirror.

⤻ no content warnings, basically. just how the yanderes look and their favourite feature of themself

notes: i felt a bit lazy this time and decided to make a small post, sorry yall.

🦋 ⤻ archives.

💌 ⤻ THE CEO, ADRIAN HOUDE.

Many articles have regarded him as the top bachelor, not just because of his money, but because of his looks. A handsome actor or celebrity is easy to come by, but a handsome CEO? It's a bit hard. Just look at all the rest of the CEOs alongside Adrian, who have bald heads.

Unlike them, Adrian has a full head of luscious blonde hair inherited from his grandmother. You know those hairstyles on 1950s men in those posters? Adrian's hairstyle is similar to that, if not just a slight bit more tousled.

His eyes are icy blue. With warmth only present in them when you're around. His eyes are hooded and sharp.

He's clean shaven with no stubble at all, and he wears a bit of makeup to hide the blemishes on his skin. Nothing is more attractive than a man who knows how to look presentable. He likes to wear a chapstick with just a hint of tint, just to make himself pop a bit more. He has a rather pale complexion. His jawline is sharp and strong, and his nose is straight with the base slightly upturned. His lips are slightly downturned, but his eyes are always smiling.

When it comes to smell, he probably wears a very stereotypical cologne of Tom Ford. However, there's always a hint of mint of him.

💌 ⤻ THE CHEERLEADER, KATIE WILLIAMS

Katie is the stereotypical pretty cheerleader, but it's not her looks that draws people in the most — though it certainly helps — is probably her ability to charm and manipulate anyone into doing her bidding.

Katie has really dark skin, and she wears it proudly. Her foundation and concealer is always dewy and bright as opposed to matte.

She loves makeup, looks like the 'cold girl' makeup, paired with some bold eyeshadow. Her eyes are double-lidded and are of a rounder shape with false lashes always on them. Sometimes, it's like she never takes them off. Some of her roommates in her sorority like to make funny rumours about it to tease her.

Her lips are plump, and, like a 2000s girlie, she loves wearing shiny lip gloss and lipstick. She doesn't overline her lips, though. They're big enough.

Her hair is naturally curly and she takes good care of it, like any other part of her appearance. She likes to wear her curly hair in space buns with little pom poms in her scrunchies. She really loves selling that cheerleader look as much as possible.

Her perfume is from Bath and body works, and she likes to experiment with it. She finishes most of her products every two months and will show up to class with a new perfume. Some of the girls in the school like to mirror her perfume too when she gets a new one. She's that popular!

💌 ⤻ THE BASEBALL PLAYER, JESPER HARGREAVES

Jesper is a brunette, and his hair is always tousled and fluffy. Even when it's wet, it has that bit of volume in it. He styles it everyday with a bit of gel but it always gets messy during practice. If you both are close enough in your relationship, he likes when you style it for him.

His skin is slightly tan from hours of playing in the sun but he makes sure to wear sunscreen, especially after finding out from videos that not wearing sunscreen can cause skin damage. He cringes everytime he remembers how he rejected sunscreen, deciding he was too 'macho' for it.

He has rather soft features for a guy. If he had a skinnier body, people would no doubt mistake him for a girl. He has soft rounded eyes with double eyelids, a cute button nose and heart-shaped lips and bushy eyebrows.

When it comes to scent, he's pretty basic about it. Just deodorant is fine with him. He's particular about sunscreen, but when it comes to shampoo and all, he's the type to use a 3-in-1.

💌 ⤻ THE ACADEMIC RIVAL, SEO MIN-JUN

Min-jun looks like your stereotypical Korean boy. Sure, he's basic, but he knows how to style well so he goes from average to god-like. He has permed his hair and gotten it a bit more fluffy and curly, the bangs swooped to the side to compliment his face shape.

His skin is pale and soft from all the skin care products and sunscreen he uses. He has a bit of a bigger nose and mono-lidded eyes — he's a bit insecure about these traits, give him compliments about it to make him feel better — but very pretty lips and a somewhat sharp jaw.

He has black eyes and black hair, but when he's alone, he likes to wear some contacts to play around with it. He does wear contacts on a daily basis though, but they don't add any colour, it's mainly to help with his eyesight because glasses give him a migraine and he can't find any shape that compliments his face well enough. Can you tell he's vain?

For scent, he probably wears a custom perfume made by some shop.

#yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere drabble #yandere male x reader #male yandere x reader #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere female x reader #female yandere x reader #yandere blog

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atopvisenyashill · 6 months ago

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Worst things GOT did casting wise:

- making Dany too beautiful (+ styling her in a way that she never has a hair out of place, always wears BLUE - which makes her look peaceful and soft and angelic, not making her burn her hair off etc). I just think of that one official art piece that's in the illustrated AGOT book where dany is bald, with the dragons and sparks and frames around her and its so striking instead of the "beautiful angelic blonde women stand empowered with her tits out" scene we got

- casting Iain Glen as Jorah and not like. a random Lannister (like. Come on. He is a burly and ugly man... why are you casting one of the most beautiful men to play him.... this is how we ended up with dany/jorah shippers)

-making Joffrey too unattractive (this is not meant to disparage JG who is a great actor and seems like a really cool dude and i'm not saying he's ugly but I think from his very first scene Joffrey looks very punchable and it would have been so much smarter to make the audience .. relate to Sansa's infatuation with his golden looks. In my head (and in all the official art) Joffrey looks like a male version of cersei/a younger version of Jaime.)

- making Dany, Jon, Robb, Marg, Brienne etc 10+ years older than Sansa and the younger starklings .... It's not "the main characters and arya (who is so cool and can kill people) + the little children" it's ONE AGE group of equally important characters

Like I know people are upset at Ned/Jon etc being too attractive, WHICH I GET, but I feel like those were very vibe based casting decisions and i'm ultimately fine with that (I also think it's easier for the audience to root for someone if they're attractive so like. I guess they had to do it) but these other things resulated in people's perception of the characters being so wildly different from what they're supposed to be. The real reason people get so angry whenever someone says they wish tamzin had stayed is because they don't like the idea of daenerys not being this ethereal beauty (TM is beautiful but not in a conventional way) that they can fully root for without issue.

1. NO YOU ARE SOOOOOO RIGHT ABOUT THEM REFUSING TO LET DANY LOOK UGLY. it’s not to say tamzin isn’t clearly beautiful, but i think she’s beautiful in the same way gwendoline christie is, which is that she’s very striking and she has a strong presence but she’s not exactly what people picture when they say “typical hot lady” (which is Crazy these are all able bodied white women, like the definition of “beauty” is soooooo fuckijg narrow that tamzin merchant is ~atypically beautiful) vs emilia definitely is, and YES like everything from not burning her hair off to emilia being,,,,,fuller in figure than dany as a fourteen year old would be is just very clear that they saw dany different than the way she is On The Page. i mean i know people whack george for saying that she’s like a sexy funny lady or whatever but george never lets go of the fact that she’s incredibly young whereas d&d completely miss that part of her character.

i will say i Get the criticism of tamzin perhaps not picking up on the conlangs easily because one thing you can say for emilia is that she had a decent head for the conlangs, she’s even still partially fluent in dothraki lmaooo. but all the other stuff they said about why they recast dany it’s like. hmmmmmmmmmm.

2. absolutely right about iain especially because he’s similar to idk paddy in that he’s got CHARISMA but unlike viserys, they didn’t intent to portray him as a deeply flawed, antagonistic character they went in portraying him as like an objectively Good Guy dedicated to dany. he’s just so much less creepy and pushy in the show and has several scenes where he shows some moral backbone - that “yet here you stand” “yet here i stand” scene is sooooooo good for example, the fact that he actually apologizes for spying on dany, giving him the greyscale story & not having him fuck a valyrian looking woman in a brothel 💀, etc etc - and you also just lose some of the creepiness here because emilia is clearly a grown if young woman and ian is handsome, so it’s like. welll of Course you want to root for them to be together! and never mind that this is a Massive departure from their book characterizations!! again, they have this idea of jorah in their head that doesn’t match up with what’s on the page even a little.

3. i do get your point re: joffrey and i think this is my problem with aidan as littlefucker too - they’re too obviously villains and it makes ned and sansa look stupid. like, in the books we have that moment where robb almost decks joffrey which does seem to signal something bad but the crown prince being full of himself doesn’t mean he’s going to threaten his betrothed’s sister with a sword then get his ass handed to him by a toddler. in the show we get QUITE a number of scenes where joffrey is shown to be a brat AND as you say, just like aidan, jack has a Certain Look, he looks like a shitty jock who has allegations against him ajsjdj like irl when jack smiles he’s so adorable!! but in the show they REALLY play up his ability to channel a greasy aura ya know aksjd. when the point of asoiaf is often that villains don’t LOOK like villains, but some of our Main Villains clearly resemble typical villains in the show.

4. “it’s ONE age group of characters” NO YOU ARE SO RIGHT. like, there’s several years difference from robert to ned to cat to the twins to tyrion but they’re all the same generation of characters. there’s that exact same age difference from brienne to robb, dany, jon to sansa, arya, bran, with theon kind of similar to characters like jorah, who are old enough to remember The Before Times but aren’t quite in either generation. but because they wanted dany, brienne, jon, robb, and margaery to be more of a Typical archetype rather than an exploration of that archetype, they aged everyone up and essentially invented another generation between the “adult” characters and the “kid” characters. not to be super nerdy here but one of my favorite worked shoots in wrestling is one cody rhodes did where he was ranting about the way young wrestlers get put through the grinder and he has this amazing line where he sums it up as “old men talking, young men dying” and it’s not to say there aren’t a lot of old dudes Also dying lmao but you really see this where young leaders are often unprepared for their responsibilities and used as puppets by older men and you just MISS THAT when that whole generation is so grown!

it’s like they looked at those themes of war being terrible and all consuming and brutal no matter how justified you feel you are and went “wow war is brutal 😍” LIKE PLEASE????

#asks #anti game of thrones #anti d&d #anons #also i know famous wrestler cody rhodes is not the first person to say something akin to that #but bc i am a nerd. he’s always the first person i think of bc his acting was amazing in that scene lmao aksjsjs #i think he was channeling some real frustration and anger there as someone from a wrestling family and as someone frustrated #with his own booking. ntm the run ins with injury and Death he personally had. and all this being passed down by vince’s old ass.#i think that wrestling problem where multiple generations of a family are mistreated by some old man making money.#is actually not dissimilar from the problems in asoiaf we see.#like tyrion even says himself! back and back and back it goes.#and for what? for why? robb is so young. ned is so young.#just something that feels completely missed by the show!#and here cody rhodes is feeling it in real life akskskdjd

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