#i debased myself by asking it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

punkpandapatrixk · 4 months ago

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🏖Your Own Standards of Beauty ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

I’ve seen one too many times East Asian YouTubers, when talking about EA’s ‘rigid standards of beauty’ giving this sense of defensiveness or helplessness—because it’s culture, right? With every fibre of my mixed ancestry I loathed that particular brand of apologist behaviour.

‘Nature is busy creating absolutely unique individuals, whereas culture has invented a single mold to which all must conform. It is grotesque.’ – U.G. Krishnamurti

Up until fairly recently, I was still struggling with comprehending the thought process behind this ‘invention’ of a grotesquely small and narrow mould of beauty and conduct to which ALL East Asians must abide lest you’re a total disharmonious failure. After some long and hard rumination, frustration, accompanied by occasional bouts of repugnance, I think I finally get ‘why’.

Almost ALL people in East Asia ALL LOOK THE SAME!!! By nature!!! LMAO LMAO People can ONLY have black hair and black eyes LMAO Ahahahohohhahah I think these Asians were never ‘socialised’ to appreciate variety. Hahhh that’s so pathetic. If this really is the reason, man, it’s pathetic as fuck. Ionno tho. You think I’ve figured it out.

All I know is that East Asians must repent for all the sins they’ve committed against childhood, individuality, creativity, aaand society and Humanity itself. Yes, Humanity. Standing on the side of all genetically diverse peoples of Asia, such as the Ainus, Mongols, Uyghurs, to some extent the Zainichis, and sooo many other ‘anomalies’ who, in recent history, have been cast aside and treated poorly only because they don’t ‘fit in’ to the ideals and cultures of the main races of some purebred fucks.

For all I care, the part of East Asian culture that has birthed this infamous ‘rigid standards of beauty, and, conduct’ can go to fucking hell. If you’re the type of person who’s even the slightest bit proud—or defensive—of this you can go and fuck yourself. No one should be proud of that kind of a racist, fascist, repulsive, little bitch mindset. Are you a little bitch? I ain’t one.

I am a Supreme Bitch! Imma be myself and do whatever the fuck I want and look however I want. And if my society can’t take that? Those types of people—Asian or no Asian—can die on the wrong side of history! I. AM. MY OWN. PROTOTYPE.

perspective: Why BUSHIDO Is The Root of All Social Problems in Japan by Let’s ask Shogo

documentary: WE ARE X on YouTube (watch before it’s taken down LOL)

‘X challenged a conservative Japanese society and showed us a new way to be. They started a revolution, honestly.’

‘Be proud!! Be proud of yourself! We are!! X!!!’

deck-bottom: X(!?!) The Wheel of Fortune, Priestess of Ambition, Gold Magus (Johannes Faustus)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – A Light of Innocence in this Insanely Debased World

playlist: silly playlist for silly people with rare songs!! by Rita wild

the TYPA beauty you are – Page of Cups

You are someone who’s known for being quite childlike. It could be that you do look young, but it’s mostly your mannerism. Technically speaking, it’s just YOU being the happy pill that you are. Listen, some of you tuning into this Pile could be dark and sombre on the inside—especially if you have a significant Scorpio/Pluto about you or if you’ve had a very unhappy childhood—but the way you’re perceived on the outside is totally bright, beautifully soft and pleasant, and dang, people really be liking your aenergy when you’re in a room.

You’re the type of beauty that exudes ‘purity’ in the most innocent way, no matter how you look or dress. You could be perceived as ethereal or unreal. otherworldly in a sense that you don’t seem to fit in this dimension. Are you an alien? Are you a goddess? Are you a fairy, elf, or an anime character? People may not have the exact words to describe you but you’re INTERDIMENSIONAL is what’s going on.

It isn’t just your physical beauty or the attractive way that you smile. People may not realise this themselves either but what’s truly beautiful about you is this VIBE or AURA that you generate from having a vastly pure heart. No, no, not pure in the sense that you never think sexy thoughts, what? Pure in the sense that you really operate from your Higher Heart and has very little ego driving your ambitions in Life~^_☆-v

effects on the world around you – Ace of Cups Rx

Basically, you just love beautiful things. You always look for beautiful things. And you make an effort to surround yourself with things you find beautiful in your own standards. And in a way, you’re also the kind of person who sees beauty in everything and everybody. You’re the type of person who sees Light even in a narc’s darkest corners of their blackened heart (if they had one), which is really such a beautiful thing but could also prove DANGEROUS!

It’s wonderful to have childlike wonder but it ain’t cool whatsoever to be childish enough not to acknowledge the presence of evil fucks. Bad people exist, OK? Very predatory and murderous people exist, OK? And it’s a spectrum. And you’ve been such an easy target for those on the milder spectrum of psychopathy! Babe! OMG You’re often drained of good aenergy after catering to the stupid whims of very narcissistic, histrionic, pathetic, selfish and whiney fucks.

STOP THAT. Of all the Piles, you’re the type of soft beauty who’s often underestimated and taken for granted just because you’re always so positive. If not ‘positive’ per se, you’re perceived as ‘strong’, so those types of people don’t even feel shame for constantly taking and demanding your aenergy. Keep allowing that long enough and your physical beauty could be drained out of you by the time your First Saturn Return jaywalks along and smacks you in the head.

keep being you, Glorious One – 6 of Swords Rx

Truly, you’re a silly angel who holds the power to absorb other people’s pain and gloomy feelings. But if this is your main pile, thing is, you might not have learnt how to release or transmute the negativity you’ve absorbed from your surroundings. It is paramount that you learn to call upon divine protection so that you’re shielded from the Evil Eye of those who are envious of your beauty and feel silly in your purity. Your Spirit Guides aren’t saying that you should stop being innocent, right?

A Soul like you is very rare in this perverted world. Some people might say, ‘They don’t make people like you anymore…’ WRONG. You’re the catalyst, if anything. By your example, there’s gonna be MORE people who are gonna be comfortable in their purity. Knowing that there’s nothing wrong with them for being this way. Fully comprehending that it is this world that’s gone too insane, and DEBASED. And this world has been this way for far longer than people realise. I mean, I’m sure you’re aware of how inhumane most people were in the medieval times LOL

Keep being the innocent and pure you, Glorious One. What you’re being advised to do is learn to set healthy boundaries from which you can still shine your Light safely. I’m being told that many of you choosing this Pile, due to your heightened sense of aesthetic, might want to have a social media presence or any kind of public platform where you’re free to share bits and pieces of your beautiful Life as a form of your Lightwork. Some kind of a lifestyle influencer?

I’m thinking of channels and blogs that typically share aesthetic daily vlogs and stuff like that—like nemui atelier on YouTube. You know what I mean; I don’t know what I mean XD

YOUR BEAUTY KILLS��💙

story of your evolution – Priestess of Prosperity

a legacy of authenticity – Red Astronomer (Johannes Kepler)

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – An Unexpectedly Romantic Dreamer of Luxury

playlist: songs like 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 (MITSKI) by song with love

the TYPA beauty you are – 2 of Cups

Ah~! You are such a dreamy and romantic beauty! You’re soft, elegant, sweet and lovely, with a kicking spice for those who would get on your bad side LMAO You’re actually a lot tougher than appearances give but most people don’t always get this until they’ve gotten to know you. For the most part, at first glance, at first encounter, you’re a sweet goddess, who probably gets projected on a lot.

You really have an unassuming quality about you. So then, people think there’s not much going on within and think it’s easy to typecast you into something, with some simplistic label. People think it’s easy to figure you out and classify you into some kind of a dream girl who’s always going to be nice, warm and friendly with everybody. You’re not. You’re a totally self-respecting babe. Actually, you really hate it when people act like they know you.

When people act like they’re close, buddy-buddy with you, it’s super annoying and depending on your mood that day, you could sometimes feel this urge to break people’s faces. But you don’t do that; you’re too nice. And you’ve got a plethora of coping mechanisms to deal with how annoyed you are with your surrounding XD Good for you!

effects on the world around you – 5 of Swords Rx

First of all, I think many of you tapping into this Pile love shopping. Retail is definitely your therapy. Is this good? Is this bad? Depends, I guess. You tend to spend money gregariously or consume a lot of food, or buy a lot of aesthetic knickknacks, or buy a lot of arts and craft as a means of therapy. Deep down, you’re somebody who has a lot of anger or a general sense of dissatisfaction with the world you’re a part of and this rage, almost, needs to be channelled creatively.

There’s a perpetual sense of disgust inside of you. You’re keen to observe and notice how much Humanity is failing. Everything that is ugly about society and people in general disgusts you. That’s why it’s important for you to live in beauty or indulge in creativity. That’s why it is paramount that your immediate surrounding, that your own Life, within what you’re able to control, is beautified to the max. You could be quite desperate in this pursuit because this is some kind of an overcompensation for the beauty and creativity that you feel is lacking in the world.

Your aenergy is kinda reminding me of this quote by the iconic Edie Sedgwick when describing why she dressed up the way she did:

‘When I was girl of the year and superstar and all that crap, everything I did was really…motivated by psychological disturbance. But I’d make a mask out of my face because I didn’t realize I was quite beautiful…I had to wear heavy black eyelashes like bat wings and dark lines under my eyes. Cut all of my hair off and strip it silver and blond. All these little manoeuvres I did out of things that were happening in my life that upset me. I’d freak out in a very physical way, and…it was all taken in a fashion trend.’

In fact, I think all of her famous words here could resonate with you. You are what trend-setters and superstars are made of, that much of your effect on the world is certain~

keep being you, Glorious One – Queen of Pentacles

Really, that’s all dandy as long as you can make a living out of your pursuit of beauty and creativity. This about you is really something that you can utilise as a means of therapy, self-care and self-improvement because you really are an artist, one way or another. It would be wonderful if you could monetise your beauty and creativity in some trendy way.

If you feel that you’re not particularly good at any kind of ‘real’ art, then you can ‘serve face’ to help other people sell their shit. You don’t think this is smart enough? Muses are often people who don’t do art—rather they inspire Art in the minds and hearts of other artists. Truly, you are an artist; but those of you tuning into this Pile who feel like you’re not one…you are potentially someone’s Muse.

Luxury is yours for the taking. But a lot of people in this world pursue luxury and some form of fame for vapid reasons and that often makes people very unhappy. Your Spirit Guides are saying that you do have a talent for balancing modern money-making and self-care. I think what they mean to say is that, you can be the prototype for how people can be completely and uniquely offbeat whilst still maintaining a good work-life balance.

After all, you do remember how much people like to project on you, right? Well, use them to make Life a lot easier! XD After all, it’s not like their projection and labelling would be useful any other way LOL🐙

YOUR BEAUTY KILLS🔻💜

story of your evolution – Priestess of Luxury

a legacy of authenticity – Green Historian (Herodotus)

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – A Ghostly Bitch Witch Who’s Quite Literally a Fucken Sigma

playlist: Everything Is Still Under Control by Mabisyo

the TYPA beauty you are – Queen of Wands Rx

You, are, by nature, magical. You’re incredibly magnetic and this ain’t even something you’ve needed to work on; it all comes naturally. If anything, it seems you’ve needed to learn the very hard way how to shield yourself from aenergy vampires. You’ve needed to work on your boundary. This is because it took you such a long time to realise most everybody around you was nothing but anklebiters. These were people who just wanted to be seen orbiting you because doing so would elevate their status or image.

Whether or not you’re aware of it, you’re quite literally thee IT girl. You’re also THAT girl, because a lot of what you do and just who you are is very aspirational. Well of course aspirational to the motivated ones; to the weak, lame-ass ones? Almost everything about you is irritating. And most people are really lame, don’t we all agree on this? So you may have felt like you’re really quite an unlikeable character. WRONG. Dead wrong. It’s not you; it’s your lame-ass environment.

You’re a Queen of Passion who’s been living in peasant quarters, figuratively speaking. You’ve been surrounded by misers who don’t even understand why it’s deeply important for them to raise their own standards of authenticity. Thing is, they can’t afford to be authentic. It’s probably not entirely their fault—after all, peasants are highly dependent on thee System. Not you. You’re the menacingly magnetic bitch witch of a system buster!

effects on the world around you – 8 of Cups

As much as you make an effort to be left alone, you magnetise admirers to no end. This is reminiscent of Greta Garbo’s famous quote, ‘I never said, "I want to be alone". I only said, "I want to be left alone". There is a whole world of difference.’ It’s true with you as well. You’re not necessarily an antisocial bitch who hates people; you just want to be left alone by gluttonous gossipers and silly simpers. You find it hard to grasp why people behave unreasonably in society, all, the, time.

You yearn for a more intellectual world where people behave honourably, which is quite paradoxical considering you’re often perceived as quite scandalous in your behaviour and lifestyle choices as well. For example, you could be gay or queer? You could desire to defy social norms such as ‘having to marry by a certain age’? You either reject social norms or you live completely opposite to what’s expected of your gender, nationality or age. You don’t like being told how to live your Life as if you couldn’t work it out yourself. It's YOUR Life, right?

It’s MY Life! My Story! Is what you say.

You’re the kind of super bad bitch that gives no one permission to decide how you should sail your ship. You’re at the wheel so you’re gonna sail the world however best you know. You’re gonna learn a ton because you’re not afraid of detours or delays or whatever—you could meet accidents, hopefully not fatal ones, but you’re going to learn. That’s what growing up well is all about for you. And if you meet the right kind of audience, your whole AURA is going to empower them to do just the same for themselves~

keep being you, Glorious One – 4 of Cups Rx

You are destined for an exciting Life. In fact, you’re meant to have an audience, have some kind of impact on the world, you’re meant to become some kind of a famous person. Could be a celeb, yeah, but in this social media era, literally everybody can have their own unique kind of celebrity, right? You’re meant to be seen, heard, listened to, watched, analysed (LOL), and learn from.

You’re somebody who’s rare and your perspectives are deeply needed by this world. This world that’s often blindsided by optical illusions. Of all people, you’re the only one who’s not getting sucked into the mirage of mass media and deceitful politicians. You’re the one who’s noticing where the lies are all at. And you need to point that shit out, spell it out for other people to see what’s truly going on in this world.

You could gain enemies, lots of them, in fact; but you are definitely gaining a massive following far greater than that if you remain authentic and courageous. Stay spooky. Stay scandalous. Stay gloriously YOU~ You’ve no idea just how much that Light of yours is needed in this world of long shadows. Keep your Third Eye open and keep your divine protection. Most people have yet to catch on to the one thing that makes YOU superfluously attractive: a courageous Heart that seeks to liberate others from the chains of their own cowardice.

YOUR BEAUTY KILLS🔻🧡

story of your evolution – Priestess of Luck

a legacy of authenticity – Green Magus (John Dee)

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

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reidology13 · 2 months ago

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I tell someone I love them (just as a distraction)

Spencer Reid x fem famous!reader

Summary: In the depths of his addiction, Spencer finds someone who needs an escape as much as he does. cw: talk of addiction, allusions to sex (no actual smut), angst no happy ending

Part 2 here!

Meaningless whispers of ‘I love you’ mumbled between laboured breaths and cold kisses in an apartment that doesn’t feel like mine. The sheen of sweat that coats his body is nearly constant these days, it has nothing to do with physical exertion. The glaze over his hollow eyes is the furthest possible thing from pleasure, although by now he might have his wires crossed. His face is beautiful, and I can see myself marrying it in another life, one where my chest isn’t as hollow as his cheeks. A life where I don’t have to ignore the fresh scars in the crook of his elbow as I pull his shirt off.

I am not in that world, and neither is he, a reality that I cannot grieve because this is what I asked for, what I have been working for since before I can remember. The parties that leave me empty and sick, the performances that start the moment I leave the stage, the new friends who tag along for my name. I love him because he doesn’t care about any of it, if only because he’s too high to care about much at all.

I don’t feel anything when I finish, I’m not sure he does, either. I watch as he disappears from my side, already scrambling to his bag, searching through it until he finds what he needs. He slips into the bathroom, finally taking his chance to feel something after the numbness of the night. He has his escape, he used to be mine. I wonder if one day the chemicals he defiles his veins with will stop calming his ever racing mind, or if I just need a higher dose.

When he comes back, I pull him close to me, dragging him back down into the bedsheets and sweat. It works this time, my skin alight with every electrifying touch as his fingers dance gracefully across my body. His hands shake as they move, a feeling that makes my nerves sing as a lump forms in my throat and my heart sinks to my stomach. He looks up at me with those brown eyes that would be so gorgeous if they held any emotion, anything but that violent hunger for a craving he should have satisfied moments earlier. He can’t up his dose as easily as I can, can’t pull his vice back to bed without the risk of never waking up. He doesn’t bother saying that he loves me this time, we both know it’s not true. Or maybe it is, but there are things he loves much more, and telling me he loves me debases one of the only pure things left in the world. I’m glad he doesn’t try this time.

He holds me afterwards, his trembling body not yet ready to stand up, or maybe he knows that the moment he does he’ll be back inside the bathroom. I turn my head away, and as he buries his face in my shoulder, I pretend I don’t feel the apology he mouths against my glass skin. He runs a hand down my upper arm, his touch tentative and light, scared that I’ll shatter into a million pieces. My heart does. If he knows about the tear that runs down my face, he ignores it, and I’m not surprised. Ignorance is what we’re good at, after all.

When I wake up, he’s gone, slipped into the early morning, or called into the job that he shouldn’t be doing in his condition. I crawl out of my cold, damp sheets, the disgusting aftermath of our night. The sick feeling that perpetually sits in my gut, loosening under him, twisting tighter under the sun of the next day.

Slowly, I peel back the layers of sticky fabric, watching how they cling to my skin and each other as I force them into the washing machine. I turn it on.

Fresh sheets are laid out on my bed, sheets that haven’t yet witnessed the tornado of us, still clean and untainted by tears and sweat and words that never mean anything. I lay the sheet over the mattress, fighting to wrap it around all four corners as it perpetually escapes one, always sitting just slightly wrong. I place the pillows down carefully, fighting the urge to punch them like I’ve been wanting to punch his face every time he shows up at my door.

I can see myself marrying him in this world, too, getting him the help he needs and staying with him through it all. He would be able to be there for me when I need it, not an escape from, but support through the other parts of my life, a person to love and talk to about the hard things. But I know that is still impossible. One day, he will sober up and disappear, or I will be an uninvited guest at his funeral. There’s no option that ends well for both of us, the best we can do is take it as it happens and ignore everything.

I watch as the last blanket floats down over the bed, carelessly adjusting its corners. It looks exactly the same.

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feminismisstillahatemovement · 5 days ago

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I gotcha, dawg.

Well, there's lots I could say here, but perhaps the easiest thing to address is you yourself saying you want to remain anonymous so as not to get "in trouble" - I presume from Democrat Tumblr users(?)

In a democracy, you shouldn't have to be frightened to say who you voted for or the concerns you have about an election.

This present climate of fear of saying the wrong thing or using the wrong pronoun or is one of the things I find most refreshing about the Trump train: he's the only mainstream politician in America openly pushing back against Wokeness - which is a 21st rebranding of Political Correctness - which is in turn a perversion of the word "correct" to mean "in line with present party policy" that first appears in Chairman Mao's Little Red Book. Also the only U.S. mainstream politician against the present transgender madness (the castration, sterilization and brainwashing of children) and open borders. These are very commonsense positions necessary for any nation's survival that have massively widespread support amongst the majority of ordinary people, but no-one else in government was doing anything to represent them.

It took an outsider not in the pocket of the donors who own the arms companies and the oil companies and the media companies and the pharmaceutical companies and so on to actually push back against the status quo and have a thick-enough skin and good humour to not back down. That's who Trump is. Yes he's a flawed and sometimes buffoonish-like figure, but the fact that he is a bullheaded businessman has meant he's been able to look at America as an enterprise in decline that needs fixing and overhauling to make "great" again, and just charge through the red tape to do whatever actually needs doing.

The first Trump presidency was a time of democrats and other hysterical left-wing activists burning, looting and rioting in America, but on the global stage it was a time of relative peace: Trump invaded no country or started any new wars (the way Biden did only 6 weeks into his presidency), and there's no reason to think he will this time round either. He did nothing to incite the very silly January 6th free tour of the Capitol Building, but for telling people to be peaceful and go home he - the sitting president - was silenced and booted from every social media platform.

So much was made this election over abortion rights - and I myself have always been pro-choice - but he didn't (and has repeatedly stated he won't) ban abortion but simply made it an issue that individual states can decide for themselves, which makes sense given the range of opinions on that matter in different parts of the country. It's probably my least favourite aspect of his policies, but the fact that such a relatively trivial matter was placed front and center in the Democrats' campaign and all that the hosts of The View and other female media dross could talk about for a year just tells you how shockingly debased and distracted political discourse has become in the west.

I could go on, but rather than addressing one claim after another, I would suggest you simply make a list of all the things you can recall the media and the democrats claiming Trump has said or done, and then go look up the original unedited videos that the out of context soundbites have been taken from, and then ask yourself whether what they presented you with seems a fair and unbiased representation of any individual, and whether it seems reasonable to trust the people who relentlessly deceived you in this way. That would do more to broaden your point of view than anything I could say.

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starlightsuffered · 3 months ago

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Be Professional (Part Two)

Warnings - smut, masturbation, oral (male and female receiving), knife play kinda, hate sex, unprotected sex, using some teeth during oral, denying an orgasm, hair pulling, biting

It had been weeks since l'd debased myself in Timothée's trailer. We'd continued on the press tour and he'd been more annoying than ever. It was as if he were glued to my side, plus he was unnecessarily touchy in interviews. I'd come across some fans writing fanfiction about us and I almost gagged.

I hated him so fucking much. He was so stupidly alluring. He would ruin my career, and he didn't have to care because he was set.

I'd become more cold and harsh towards him. He didn't mind, he was used to it. However, I was able to eventually upset him. He'd asked me to meet him at his hotel room. I'd stood him up. Had I spent the night masturbating to the idea of what would have happened if I went, maybe. He'd been moody since then. He was so pouty I felt like I was working with a toddler.

"Fucking, shit, mother fucker," our director cursed after hanging up.

"What's up?" My teeth were chattering relentlessly. We were in Russia, part of the movie had taken place there, so part of the press tour was here too. We'd been here in the warmer months, but now it was freezing.

"Language barrier," the director cursed. "They only got us two fucking rooms! Plus they're all booked up!"

"What?" I demanded.

"Timothée, you go with y/n, I'll bunk with Ethan," the director pointed to the screenplay writer.

"What?" I nearly shouted. "There is no way l'm-"

"Y/n, I can not do this right now! Stop complaining and room with Chalamet, capeesh?"

"Yes sir," | grumbled. Timothée hadn't said a word.

"The rooms are the size of small apartments anyway," Our director mumbled as he stalked toward the building.

We followed suit.

Finally, Timothée and I were in our large room. There were in fact, not two beds, but I immediately started putting my stuff on the sofa, to signal to him where I was sleeping.

"I need a shower," he said blandly, and went to the huge bathroom. I glimpsed a hot tub as he shut the door.

I heard the water turn off as I finished unpacking. I was planning what l'd wear for the interviews tomorrow, when | heard a sound coming from the bathroom. It was a sort of whimper.

No way! was Timothée Chalamet crying? The mean streak in me convinced me I had to see that. I was so focused on wanting to see my rival broken down, that I didn't think of what he would be wearing, or not wearing, as I opened the door.

Timothée was sitting on the toilet, his cock in his hand. He was biting his lip as he pumped his throbbing length.

His hair was still wet, and sticking to his temples. His stomach tensed and untensed with pleasure.

"What is wrong with you," I cried. He looked up at me in shock.

"Did I, did I forget to lock the door?" He asked sheepishly.

"Yes you did, but not only that. You're masturbating in a hotel bathroom while rooming with your costar! Why do you have so little dignity? Why can't you just be-"

"Professional," he finished for me, while rolling his eyes. "Yes, yes, you've said it all before, but I wasn't the one riding my costars thigh in his trailer now was I."

"Fucking Hell," I threw my hands up. "I have to do everything myself," I snapped as I lunged towards him. He looked scared for a moment before I dropped to my knees.

I took his impressive length into my mouth, immediately bobbing up and down.

"Holy shit," he cried as my tongue circled his head. I used the precum he'd had and my saliva to slip his as far down my throat as possible. He was cursing in French and grabbing at my hair. I detangled his hands from my hair while I continued to suck. He whined at that and I let my teeth graze his sensitive member in a warning. He jumped in pain when I did. Being satisfied with that, I continued my ministrations.

I could feel him pulse and I removed my mouth completely. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand.

"There, two more pumps and you should be good to go. Don't let it happen again," I said and patted his cheek.

He was staring at me in utter disbelief.

I got up and began to walk back into the room. In seconds I was tackled to the bed. A naked Timothée was over me with fire in his eyes. I felt his still rock hard cock pressed against me.

"You're going to pay for that," he snarled. His hands had pinned down my wrists, and I was not fighting that. Why wasn't I fighting him? Why was this happening all over again? Why did I want it to happen?

"Oh yeah?" I goaded. "Gonna offer me your thigh again, no thanks Chalamet. You're the one who is desperate now."

He nearly growled at that, and then he was ripping off my leggings. I actually watched them tear with his violent behavior. Why did watching him ruin my clothing make me wet? What was fucking wrong with me.

He grabbed his bag from the bedside table. On his keychain was a small pocket knife. I gasped as he flicked it open. I felt the cold metal against the skin of my thigh. Now I knew I had to have something wrong with me because I wasn't scared, I was getting even more turned on.

In one swift movement he had sliced the side of my panties. Then went the other side, until the fabric fell away.

"Think you're important enough that someone will try to hurt you?" I snapped. "Is that why you carry around a knife Chalamet?"

Everytime I used his surname instead of his first name, it seemed to anger him more. He dove down and began to devour my pussy. I was arching, but trying my damndest not to moan. I grabbed at his curls, to push him further down. Just as I had, he removed my hands from his hair. Angrily, I put them back and pulled on his hair hard. To my surprise, the pain made him groan into my heat, and tingles went up my spin.

He removed his mouth from my heat then. He meanly bit and sucked on my inner thighs, ensuring I'd have marks to look at later. Without warning he was back to my heat, sucking my clit into his mouth. My orgasm pulsed through me unexpectedly, sending pleasure coursing through my veins. I was arching into Timothée's mouth as I cried out.

He lifted his head from my cunt, eyes dangerous. He was climbing back up to me. He gave me a forceful kiss, messily biting my bottom lip.

"You're trouble, you know that?" He said.

"What are you going to do about that?"

He was suddenly sheathed inside me. It took all I had not to moan at his size. He began to snap his hips at an ungodly speed. He dipped down to let his teeth graze my nipple before sucking on it.

locked my legs around him, and let my nails trail down his back, not caring if it hurt. He bit my nipple and I squealed as pleasure and pain mixed delightfully inside me.

"I've got you right where I want you," he purred.

"Shut up," I gasped. He chuckled darkly.

"When you come, you're going to say my name. Not my last name, my first name," he said in a deep tone. "Do I make myself clear?"

"No," I said, grinding up into him, hoping to make him cum first.

"You will do it!" He snarled.

"You're so egotistical I'm surprised it's not yourself you're fucking," | replied.

"You started it."

"Just shut the fuck up," I whined as he slammed into me particularly hard.

"Admit it, you want my cock. You've only been ignoring me because you're afraid of much you'd love it once you got it," he teased.

"I don't."

"Then why are so close to coming hmm?" He taunted.

"I'm not-fuck!" He'd reached down to touch my sensitive clit. When he began rolling it while he fucked me I couldn't stand it anymore. I couldn't remember not to say it, I was too blissed out. It was like the name was exorcised from my body.

"Timothée!" I cried as my walls clenched and the world went white.

"There we go," he grunted before spilling into me, panting.

When he came down, a smirk covered his lips. I looked at him with disgust.

"I hate you," I told him. He just nodded sweetly and pulled out of me.

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ornii · 9 months ago

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Hi I requested the irish heimdall one a while back if ya are still accepting requests would ya be open to doing one where he's high on really strong painkillers after an accident and Wednesday is trying to help him but his foresight is active subconsciously and he's dodging her until she kisses him and when she grabs his jaw to kiss him it makes him whine and she uses that as something to tease him about after

A God In Need?

it is Seldom that a God would be asking for help, but some things simply cannot be done alone. After an incident in Biology class that left (Y/n) with a torn muscle and a few cuts on the body. He can think his girlfriend for the incident as an argument between the two left a scathing message. Sitting in his room, (Y/n) poured a tall glass of water with his one good arm, the other in a sleeve and a bandaged up abdomen. He struggles to open up a pill bottle and fumbled it, reluctantly pouring a few in his hand he swallows it chases it with water. There is a knock on their door. (Y/n) hobbles over to it, and opens the door.

Waiting for him was his girlfriend, Wednesday Addams, she had a small black doctors bag in her hand. (Y/n) raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not dead yet, you can’t perform an autopsy.” He said.

“Silence, I came to reapply your gauze.” She says.

“Really? No kiss on the cheek for me? No, “Hello (Y/n).” Just storm into my room?” He scoffs, Wednesday calmly leans in and gives a peck on his cheek.

“Hello (Y/n), now move.” She was a force to be reckoned with, and (Y/n) was in no position to fight. He side steps and she strolls into the room, closing the door behind him (Y/n) follows.

“So the doctor’s allowed you to work on me?”

“No.” Wednesday replied.

“No?”

“No. I’m doing this of my own volition.” She explains. And places the bag down upon a desk and begins to rummage through it. Pulling out tape and a few pieces of medical supplies she turns to (Y/n).

“Strip.” She orders, (Y/n) reluctantly sighs and attempts to struggle to remove his shirt. Wednesday watches him fumble around it.

“You are truly helpless.” Wednesday grabs his shirt and lifts it up, her eyes trail down his abdomen and for a moment in her life she was actually a bit flustered. She shakes it off and helps him remove his shirt. Her eyes look him up and down and hesitates.

“Beautiful figure, like a god I know.” He said smugly, Wednesday pulls off the bandage wrap with a quick tug, (Y/n) bites his lip not to yelp. She begins to unwrap. The bloodstained bandages fall on the floor as Wednesday sees the scars along his chest.

“Your wounds are healing faster than I expected. In a week I can finally stop listening to your incessant whining.” She applies fresh bandages as (Y/n)’s medicine begins to kick in. As she reaches to remove his arm sleeve he instinctively steps back. She hesitates for a moment, she looks into his purple eyes to see the lack of clarity within them, hazy.

“And how many did you take?”

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about…” he stammers out. “Your medication, you took to many, didn’t you?”

“Of course not, I don’t need any help counting.” He retorts, trying to shake off the lack of response time from his body to his brain, as if traffic is being blocked off there. Wednesday just dragged him to a chair to sit him down and looked him in the eye.

“Dilated pupils, Slow response time, cold clammy skin..” she thinks and he checks off the list.

“(Y/n), I need you to focus.” She reaches into her bag to retrieve an alcohol swab and a needle.

“You know… you’d make a pretty hot doctor, or a nurse.” (Y/n) admits, Wednesday continues to prepare as he looks around the room, his brain slowly moving forward. “You could be like, “Oh (Y/n), it’s time for your bath?”

“I wouldn’t debase myself for someone’s sexual pleasure.” She said sternly. (Y/n) scoffs, leaning back. “ar ndóigh ní” he mutters angry.

“What was that.” She responds.

“I said.. of course not, because it’s all about you, isn’t it? Hey (Y/n), help me track down a killer, Hey (Y/n), help me figure out where Crackstone is by lying and endangering Enid, Hey (Y/n), almost get yourself killed trying to protect me.” (Y/n) rants off, in disbelief of his stupidity. Wednesday turned to the boy, who was falling asleep

“Since you’re under the influence of pain and medication I’m going to allow that to slide.” She walks over and reaches to check his face, but his body jerks his head away. She reaches again and he moves again, she attempts to catch his head but his body moves.

“Quit being childish.. stop it.” She orders and grabs his jaw, a muffled whine comes from him. “Owwwws” he drones on until her lips connect with his. Letting go she looks him in the eyes.

“I was selfish back then, and you still took your time to love me. I am forever grateful for that, I apologize for it. So will you stop pussyfooting and let me put your bandages on?” She asks, a laugh comes from him and he sits up, still a little drowsy as she begins to wrap his body. She has to get close to his chest to do so, his good arm gently caresses the top of her head.

“You know, Tyr would love to meet you.. and Baldur and Thor.”

“You mean literal gods?” She said. (Y/n) nods, “All Father would be blessed to meet you.”

“So you intent to take me to a realm of gods?” She asks, looking up at him.

“It’s a place where you belong.” He replies, Ladykiller wasn’t a skill that was taught at Asguard, that was all skill. Wednesday gave a soft nod.

“Fine. As long as you don’t whine like that in front of them.” She replied in cheek and goes back to wrapping his wounds

“In front of my lady? Never.” He gives her a soft hug with his one arm, Wednesday halted her wrapping to feel his warmth against her, and returned the favor with her own hug. A God Asking for help was rare, but a god finding true love, one in a million.

#male reader #netflix #wednesday #wednesday addams x male reader #wednesday x reader #reader insert #wednesday addams x reader #wedensday x you #ornii

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hypnobrainwasher · 3 months ago

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Obsessive Devotion

(CW: mental health issues, use of issues for control. Story is just that, a story)

A woman can say she wants me, but then flirt with other people. That's not real want. She can say she needs me, but then go missing for days. That's not real need. That's not what I want or need. I know the kind of woman I need.

I need a woman who desperately needs me, and who I desperately need. A relationship that's well past close or loving. I want obsession. I want devotion. I want unquestioning obedience and servitude. I want a relationship so intense that scares everyone else. A relationship only we understand.

I want to be constantly on your mind, as if I was right next to you all the time, as if you were chained to my desk with my hand on your head, smiling down at you, slapping you if it pleased me to, and all the while your smile gets bigger and bigger, your pussy gets wetter and wetter, dripping everywhere like when you drool when I face fuck you, because my attention feeds you. It's what sustains you. It's what flips every single switch in your mind and body. More than food or water, you need me. I'm on your mind every waking moment. Your existence is for me.

When I'm away from you, your anxiety argues with your knowledge that I wouldn't leave you. You objectify yourself, aiming to never let thoughts of you out of my mind. My phone is constantly buzzing with sexual, explicit pictures, declarations of your love and need for me and devotion to me. You just feel better after you send that message... and another... and another.. each more objectifying of yourself and debasing than the last. Your logical mind knows I would never leave you. Your anxiety tells you to film yourself stripping then slapping your pussy until you cry while calling out my name.

I come home. Of course I did. Silly girl. You meet me at the door like it's the first time, like you're an excited puppy. And you just can't help it, you need me to possess you physically again. To fill you with myself, my presence. You'd rip your soul out and have me fuck it if it was possible, just to have one more thing to give to me, to share with me. You'd change anything about yourself, do anything I ask, just to see me smile. And then back on your chain at my desk to sit at my feet while I work, or play, my hand occasionally finding your head to pat you while you rest it on my leg, on me. For me. All for me.

That's all I want. Obsessive devotion.

To me.

#obsessive devotion #hbwwrites

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darkwicks-secret-fanfic-author · 4 months ago

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Hi there! I hope you are doing super well. I saw your post about you being a writer. I wanted to know if you can write a Tokyo Debunker HC of Mc being a fashion designer. They create clothes for women and men. How would Jin, Romeo, Leo, and Taiga react?

You can disregard this if you don’t want to do it. I’m just super curious and excited to read your work. Take care! 💙

Jin

Would absolutely put MC to work on customizing every dress shirt and suit they have.

Would want MC to autograph the work by putting their initials somewhere discreet, like the inside of a shirt cuff.

Absolutely makes MC measure them and take notes before every piece is cut and made. It's not that he thinks that his measurements have changed, more that he wants the direct attention and control of having MC do it.

MC would never have to want for anything because Jin would pay them 4x their asking rate and chide them for lowballing themselves.

MC would make them a custom set of pajamas for their birthday or Christmas present. Jin would act like it's expected of MC and not bother saying thank you or appreciating the gesture with words, but MC would come in the morning one day to deliver tea and notice that Jin is wearing them. Tohma would tell MC later that Jin wears them every night.

Would commission new suits for the ghouls of the house because no one expects the chaos twins to have fashion sense and they can't go around embarrassing him anymore after the Pit incident.

Romeo

"Excuse me?? Wear WHO?? WTAF, I'd never debase myself with something indie!!!" would be the initial reaction.

He'd wait until he saw Jin or Taiga in MC's designs before he'd realize what an idiot he made out of himself.

Romeo would be the most to treat MC like an actual designer. He'd go to MC's studio and look through pieces on the rack as well as MC's portfolio of sketches and finished pieces. He'd like bits from different shirts, blazers, ties, etc. and commission a suit that would look the best on him.

Would try to convince MC to only do clothing for himself and Taiga as a status symbol.

He would then immediately change his mind and get designs drawn up for the staff at the Casino.

Taiga

He doesn't actually care if he's covered in blood, let alone what he's wearing so it wouldn't be a big deal for him at first.

Taiga's first fitting would be scheduled by Fico so that he could get some new dress shirts that aren't stained by likedove blood or similar. It wouldn't be until he had MC's attention on him and noticed how comfortable the shirts were that he'd enjoy the clothing.

He would be the least demanding of the ghouls about the specifications of his clothes, but the most outwardly pleased by the efforts after all is said and done.

Would probably commission a couple sets of suspenders.

His new suit jacket would look amazing for all of probably 2 days before he ended up ripping it on a tree limb or something while hunting anomalies to eat.

A lot of his casual clothes would be loud prints that MC would secretly screaaaaaaaam about combining, but it would make Taiga smile and actually seem...happy? so it would give MC more reason to do it.

Fittings and other personal appointments would eventually show the difference in personality in Taiga; the loud forgetfulness would give way to quiet and charming.

MC should definitely not accidentally stab themselves with a needle though. That would maybe be bad. or hot. oops?

Leo

As soon as Leo found out about MC's passion for fashion, he would immediately start trying to make fun of them and claim they're frumpy NPC fits...

Which in turn would push MC to actually design something for Leo. They'd go all out on making a street fashion fit that would be in loud colors and a clash of styles and solids. After being taken aback by the effort put in it... Leo may actually love it. Not that he'd show it of course.

Would ABSOLUTELY hype MC up on Tiktok and insert himself in as manager for their work.

Would go Live for a fashion show that he didn't tell MC he was going to do.

Leo would probably start giving advice (in his own way) on MC's design choices to keep them more popular among streetwear and not just mode-kei.

Would bully Sho into buying MC's fits.

THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN THANK YOU BLUE! I didn't know how I'd feel about Leo and MC designing outfits but honestly I could see Leo getting super into it.

If I have the free time i'll do little shorts with each of them! Thank you for popping my prompt cherry.

#writing prompt #tokyo debunker #tdb #leo kurosagi #jin kamurai #taiga hoshibami #romeo lucci #headcanon #fanfiction #asks answered

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