#i have some hot takes and art but those will come when I’m ready to return to tumblr

[pr0xide]

So fixated on Cinderella Boy but too ashamed to actually rant anything about it to anyone (but my sister) but I secretly am plotting a ritual incantation so the demons can possess my friends so they read it and one day walk up to me and just “happen” to talk about it with me.

CB is one of like the 20 reasons my 2025 year has been going to shit (not bc I dislike anything but bc I been so depressed over the current ending iykyk)

[ghostgirl-22]

so i actually need pt 2 to the older patrick younger art fic right NOW.. jk but it was amazing

Y’all. Y’ALL. I heard you. And though I don’t really love writing sequels… I’ll do anything for you honestly <33

Original.

It’s a mess and way too long which is prbly to be expected by now. Idk. Sometimes you just have to get out of your head and post 😭

18+ NSFW

CW: AGE GAP 10-11 years, power dynamics, teacher/student vibes, first time vibes, AND mild daddy!kink whoopsie! How did that happen? Obviously if any of these things make you uncomfortable don’t read. I don’t take it personally. I’ll explain myself a bit. Art in my imagination here didn’t get constantly shown up by Patrick and because Patrick wasn’t there Art got the attention Patrick got for his skills so he’s a little more arrogant (still a little insecure because that’s his core) and still messy. Patrick had the Tashi injury which makes him a little less arrogant (brought down a notch but still overcompensates and actively self sabotages because that’s his core) and still messy.

——

Art is still keyed up the next morning. His roommate, Devon, is bragging about hooking up with a senior. Art is trying to pay attention but all he can think about is how he got on his knees and gave messy head to Patrick, Coach Zweig, his 31 year old ridiculously hot tennis coach. And how Patrick practically promised to fuck him if he was a really good boy all week. He’s sitting on his hands trying not to go crazy.

“What did you get up to?” Devon finally asks him. Picking up his towel and getting ready to shower.

“Can you keep a secret?” Art asks.

That makes him sit back down. “Yeah of course.”

Art tells him about Patrick, most of it anyway, watching his eyes widen. He’s not on the tennis team but he’s heard enough about Coach Zweig from Art that he can’t help giggling.

“You’re fucking joking.”

“I’m not, I swear.”

“Holy shit. And I thought I was doing something with that senior. Wow. This would only happen to you.”

Art isn’t sure what he means by that but he’s suddenly asking a million questions. Art tells him some things, embellishing and withholding various details. The closest Art ever came to actually fucking a boy was when he used to sneak in Devon’s bed whenever he got horny at night. They were so close to fucking when Art made him stop. so he made Art promise to stop leading him on. And now they’re proper roommates with boundaries and everything. Though sometimes Art thinks if he asked for it Devon would still fuck him.

Devon thinks it’s hot, the whole Patrick thing. Thinks Patrick wants to make Art his kept boy. “Well I mean… he’s old and everyone says he’s loaded, right? He can give you whatever you want.” Devon says.

“Please, he wouldn’t even give me his phone number.” Art says dismissively. “And I don’t need to be kept I just need his dick.”

Devon chews his bottom lip looking Art over and Art wonders if he crossed a boundary. He’s so fucking messy with them.

“Lucky him,” Devon says dryly, rolling his eyes. “But maybe you should milk it. You’re young and beautiful and blonde and he’s your coach so it’s like.. it’s kind of illicit. He could get you a nice place off campus… be your sugar daddy. Girls do it all the time.”

“I think he’d kill me if I ever called him that,” Art laughs, making up his mind to definitely call him that at some point.

Devon agrees to come out with him next weekend but he still has to wait the whole fucking week. It feels like torture.

They have practice everyday and a game on Friday. Which means Patrick’s in those short shorts running them around the court every single day. Art can’t keep his mind off of him. Just wants his attention so bad, everyday he’s doing everything he can just to get Patrick to look in his direction. But Patrick’s got an epic poker face. He’s so fucking cool and calm and collected. So good at acting like nothing happened. Like everything is the same and they never did what they did.

There's one difference. Instead of having the assistant coach do it… he’ll bring Art to the side and personally correct him when he thinks Art could play better. Show him how to position himself, swing the racket, follow through. Big hands, rough hands, gripping Art's waist to turn his body, his wrist to direct his swing. The same hands that effortlessly lifted off his lap the other night.

“Can’t be all talk and no action sweetheart,” Patrick says lightly, as he’s standing behind him. God. It’s actually stupid how sexy he is. Art’s never thought this much about being penetrated, ever. He makes sure to arch his back just a little more than he usually does. Patrick presses a hand to the small of his back.

Art fingers the grip of his racket. “I don’t think I was all talk.”

Patrick chuckles, low and soft. “Stop it. Focus. Bring that energy here,” he says, “all that confidence right here and no one will rattle you.”

“Like this?” Art demonstrates. He makes a mess of it just so that Patrick will touch him again. It takes a minute before Patrick catches on.

“I think you get it,” he says dryly.

“Please show me one more time. I just wanna be a good boy for you,” Art says lightly. It makes Patrick swallow… his gaze falls helplessly over Arts body and then he looks away smirking.

“Are you having fun?” He says, leaning in close, eyes all crinkly with amusement.

Art wants to kiss him. “Mmhm,” he hums, pressing his lips together. “Though sometimes it still feels like my mouth is so full of you I could just… choke.”

“Yeah… right…” Patrick rolls his eyes, still smiling and then he takes a deep breath and drags his hand over his beard. “Hm…What’s today?”

“Wednesday,” Art says.

“And my plans for the weekend are still up in the air,” he says, patting Art on the shoulder as he takes his racket and turns to face the team. “Five laps around the court, everybody, let’s gooo!” He says loudly, blowing his whistle. “Fucking hustle!”

There’s an audible groan and the sounds of rackets dropping as everyone stops what they’re doing and starts running. “Go join them. And if you keep it up it’ll be sprints next.” Patrick says softly.

Art grins, as much as he hates running and he’s sure his teammates will assume he’s responsible for this bit of conditioning, it was still totally fucking worth it.

He probably should’ve focused more but he wins on Friday in spite of himself. Tennis is such a mental game and while he’s generally confident and loves the attention that comes with playing as number one on the center stage, he’s not consistent. That’s what Patrick always says at least. There are opponents that leave him feeling less sure of himself and then he tends to get in his head imagining he’s somehow inadequate or deficient.

One of those players is a French recruit from UCLA, Jensen Bordeaux. Art starts out strong. Crushes it in the first set. But when Bordeaux fights back in the second and he falls apart a little. It’s a bad habit. He wins another game but it’s not enough. He ends up nearly going into a third set.

“Remember what I said,” Patrick takes him to the side between points. “Stop acting like you can’t finish him off. You can have whatever you want right?”

Art gazes at him and bites his lip. “Mmhm.” He nods.

“Good. You know what you want. Just take it. Okay?”

“Yeah okay,” Art says breathlessly.

“Good boy,” Patrick says, rubbing his shoulders, a little smirk on his lips. “Try not to… you know… choke.”

Art feels heated from the inside out. He goes back on the court except he’s not thinking about the game. Instead he’s so anxious for the promise of tomorrow night that all this begins to feel like a mere obstacle to that. He makes easy work of it, winning the tiebreaker and shifting it so that Stanford goes home the winning team.

Everyone on the team goes out to a frat party to celebrate and Art is so drunk and horny by the end of the night. He stumbles into his dorm at 1 am, falls drunkenly into bed and starts touching himself. Fingers in his mouth imagining it’s the heavy weight and thickness of Patrick’s cock. Imagining Patrick’s large hands in his hair, imagining the soft, easily amused tone of his voice as he murmurs. “Good boy.” Makes him come so fast and hard he passes out.

He’s a mess in the morning. In more ways than one. They don’t have practice after game days so he sleeps off his hangover and the day flies by. He takes a long hot shower before he gets ready to go. Anxiety and anticipation competing for space in his brain and body. Devon loans him clothes that are so much tighter than anything he wears regularly. “Trust me, he’s gonna be all over you in this.”

They get there at the same time as last week but Patrick doesn’t come right away. Art’s waiting and waiting and waiting for Patrick to show up at the gay bar. Devon is at a table, a new boy on his lap and they’re making out. Art is half tipsy, swinging his legs on a barstool while this guy from the baseball team stands between his thighs asking him everything about tennis like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. And that’s when Patrick finally arrives. He spots Art across the bar and smirks. Art gets up right away, making excuses to the now frowning baseball player about seeing him around on campus.

“That was fast,” Patrick smirks, as Art sidles up next to him.

“Well I didn’t know you’d take so long to come,” Art says, moving closer. “Is that an old person thing?”

”Mm, you…” Patrick chuckles, tapping his credit card on the bar. He’s got such a great smile. God. Art is so far gone. This is tragic.

“Can you buy me a drink?” Art asks in his ear.

“No fucking way,” Patrick says, amused.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously, how many drinks have you had tonight?”

Art holds up 3 fingers.

“Is that how many fingers I’m gonna have to put in before I can… nevermind…” Patrick says.

Art grins. Warmth spreading throughout his body. “It’s really big,” Art whispers. “Maybe you need four?”

“God…” Patrick laughs, incredulous. “I shouldn’t even fucking be here.” He sighs, as the bartender approaches them. He orders a whiskey and because it’s two for one he gives in and lets Art pick something. He orders rum and coke.

Art feels giddy as he sips on it.

“So used to getting whatever you ask for,” Patrick says, looking him over, teasing a finger into one of his belt loops. “Twenty years old. God. You make me fucking crazy.” He whispers in Art’s ear.

Art can’t help grinning.

Patrick makes him wait while he talks to people his own age. Acting all wholesome. “Oh he’s just one of my players, I’m gonna make sure he gets home safe.” He even gives Art the key so he can wait in his jeep. Art’s hard as soon as he gets in it. Listens to music too loud and ponders touching himself.

He’s kissing on Patrick right away when he finally gets in the car. He’s been so eager all week. “Mm…” Patrick pulls back, tangling his fingers into Art’s hair. “Fuck… gimme a minute to get you home, okay?” he says and he turns on the engine and puts the music back at a sensible volume.

“Is it far?” Art asks.

Patrick huffs a laugh. “Take a deep breath.”

It doesn't help. Everything smells like him. Art puts a hand on Patrick’s thigh, his skin is so heated. He remembers how warm Patrick’s cock felt in his mouth and then his mouth starts watering.

“Is Tashi there?” Art sighs.

“What do you fucking think?”

Art leans close, just breathing him in. Resting his head on Patrick’s shoulder. ”She’s so pretty.” He hums.

“I know.”

“You’re so pretty.”

Patrick chuckles, a low vibration Art can feel from his throat that makes him shiver. “And you're so tipsy. And so fucking young.”

“But you like it.” Art says softly, rubbing Patrick’s thigh. Skin so warm he’s like a furnace. Already hard enough that Art can feel it.

”And I know I’m gonna regret it.”

Their house is actually huge. On the nicer side of Palo Alto. It’s one of the ones with a pool and a tennis court and a crazy nice view of the city. Art doesn’t know any of this until later because as soon as they're inside he’s trying to get his tongue in Patrick’s mouth. Patrick walks him back towards the living room where there’s a huge leather sofa. Art climbs onto his lap as soon as he sits down. Patrick is touching him everywhere, fingers tangled into his hair. Hands under his shirt, rubbing him, teasing him. Art is just trying his best to feel him, lick into his mouth and taste him. All while grinding against his prominent bulge. Grabbing at his zipper trying to get it out.

“Can you fuck me?” Art begs against his lips.

“Fuck,” Patrick breathes against his lips, he’s gripping Art’s waist tightly. Slowing him down. He sighs like he’s trying to pull himself together. “Mmkay. God. Stand up a minute. I need to get a condom and some lube.”

Art gets up reluctantly, nervous energy making him bounce on his toes like he’s waiting on a serve. Patrick smirks, “Relax… I’ll be back in a minute.” He pats Art’s shoulder as he gets up and disappears into another room. It doesn’t matter whether Art sits or stands, he’s anxious. He looks around the lavish room, fancy furniture, paintings that look expensive. Massive kitchen like the kind you see in movies. Patrick comes back and he’s all loose, t-shirt wrinkled, hair messy, eyes soft. He’s probably done this a million times. He’s got a condom between his fingers which he hands to Art.

“You wanna put it on me?”

”Mmhm,” Art says. He’s also carrying a little bottle of lube. Art’s trying to rip the packet open but his hands are all shaky. Especially when Patrick lifts his t-shirt off, he’s so solid, strong biceps, chest hair that gets darker condensed down the line of his stomach to where his jeans are unbuttoned. Art wants to lick it.

“Okay,” Patrick settles on the sofa, kicking off his shoes. “Give me that, you pretty little virgin and take those clothes off.”

Art hands him the condom a little embarrassed, and starts undoing his jeans. Kicks off his shoes and peels off his shirt so he’s only in boxers. Patrick bites open the packet and eases his jeans down and his cock out. Art takes shallow breaths watching him roll the condom on. It’s so big the condom is a magnum size and it fits snug. He’s heard horror stories about first times, even read a few on Reddit and he’s starting to feel a little panicked.

”Look at you.” Patrick says softly, eyes dragging slowly down Arts body. He pulls Art onto his thighs, god he has thick muscular thighs, Art can’t help wiggling. Patrick’s got him close so their cocks line up, and his palm is covered in lube and he’s gripping them both at the same time. It feels so fucking good Art thinks he might come too fast. He’s moaning, eyes squeezed shut when Patrick stops. Art opens his eyes to see Patrick wetting his fingers with more lube and slips a thick calloused finger back along Art’s entrance. Art feels himself seizing up as Patrick presses slowly inside.

“Take deep breaths,” Patrick whispers. Advice Art tries to follow but it just feels so crazy. He eases another finger in and Art tenses even more.

“Mm if your so fucking tight, I can’t fuck you sweetheart.”

“Does it hurt?” Art whispers.

Patrick takes a breath. “Yeah a little at first… but I think I can make it feel a little…uh better…”

Art shivers, his body suddenly overrun by pleasure as Patrick’s teasing his fingertips deep inside him. Art can hear himself moaning voice suddenly pitched so high he barely recognizes it. “Please… please… “he begs. “Please fuck me… fuck me… fuck me daddy.” Art gasps, losing himself as he’s riding the sensation.

“Fuck… what did you call me?” Patrick whispers.

Art bites his lip, his body heating up immediately with embarrassment. “Mm sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to… I meant like sugar…” He says softly as Patrick slowly pulls his fingertips out. Art is breathless. Patrick doesn’t look mad but his expression has gone heady.

“Fuck… I can be daddy if you need it,” Patrick breathes. “Come…sit on daddy’s dick. Holy shit. What are you doing to me?”

Art swallows, his stomach doing flip flops for the way Patrick says it. He sits up on his knees, he can feel Patrick lining up. It actually feels like a lot. Like way too much. Impossible to take. He’s got his eyes squeezed shut and watering feeling the insane stretch as he sinks so fucking slowly down on it.

“Oh god,” he keeps whispering over and over like a prayer.

“Fuck,” Patrick breathes. His hands gripping Art’s waist.

He’s anxious moving slowly, gripping tightly, it’s too much, he’s too full. And Patrick starts to adjust him while gently rubbing his tummy. “Relax… lets try this angle,” Patrick whispers. Fucking into him in a way that he starts hitting that pleasure spot deep inside with even more intensity. “Good… good boy…that’s right…breathe… breathe… keep breathing… fuck…” Patrick coaches. And then slowly as it happens Art is moaning, bouncing on his lap just to feel it hit over and over and over and over again.

“I wanna… mmm I like it so much. wanna do it all the time,” Art moans nonsensically as he’s riding, not sure what’s happening, just that he’s seeing stars. “I wanna fuck you all the time. All the fucking time. wanna fuck you at school… during practice. In your bed. Wanna be your boy toy. Play with your big dick. Fuck me, oh fuck… fuck me daddy, daddy please. It feels so fucking good.”

“Jesus,” Patrick groans he barely grips Art’s cock and he’s coming loudly, spurts of it covering Patrick’s chest and his own. He can feel Patrick still pressing up into him, it suddenly feels like way too much. Every movement making him shake with how sensitive it feels and then Patrick stills, swearing over and over, gripping Art’s body tight and burying himself deep. Low gravelly sounds against Art’s ear.

”Fuck,” Patrick gasps, breathlessly. “Oh… god. You’re so… fuck I’m so screwed.”

“Mm,” Art collapses against his chest, running his fingers down Patricks soft chest hair all painted with his jizz. His knees are all sweaty and sticking to the leather but he doesn’t really care. He just wants to be close. Patrick is gently rubbing his lower back and it feels amazing. Art can feel him softening and slowly slipping out of him, he thinks he might fall asleep like this.

“You okay?” Patrick asks.

”Mmhm,” Art says.

“You sure?”

”Yeah. Can we do it again?”

“God,” Patrick laughs. “I need at least five minutes and I need you to get up cause I gotta piss.”

“No,” Art whines, unhappy about anything that means he won’t be warmed by Patrick's body heat even for a second. He wraps his arms around Patrick’s shoulders.

Patrick chuckles. “I can’t go anywhere?”

“No,” Art says. “You’re my pillow.”

“Guess I fucked your virgin ass good,” Patrick says.

“For an old guy,” Art says softly, smiling against Patrick’s throat.

“For your daddy, you little freak…” Patrick says gently, squeezing his ass. “Come on, get up or we’re gonna have a bigger mess to clean up.”

Art groans and unwraps his arms. “Can I come?”

“To piss?” Patrick raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Art nods.

Patrick smirks and rolls his eyes before gently curling his fingers into Arts hair. “Yeah sure, come on.”

Art kisses him and he sighs into Arts mouth. “I need a fucking cigarette too.”

“Can I stay over?” Art asks against his lips.

“Mm…” he ponders and sighs. “Fuck it I don’t know why I bother pretending to set boundaries with you…” he says, helping Art to his shaky feet. “Tashi will be home tomorrow afternoon. So you know… better not sleep too late.”

Art grins at him. “Does she know about me?”

“Does she know that after I finally got a good job as a tennis coach at my old school that I’m this close to losing it because I can’t help fucking my barely legal 20 year old star player? No actually. She doesn’t know.” He says dryly.

Art laughs. “I wouldn’t tell. But I mean imagine if I slept with you both. I’d learn so much about tennis.“

Patrick snorts, “This kinda talk is gonna make me take you home tonight actually…”

“Mm too late. You let me call you daddy,” Art grins. “You’re never getting rid of me.”

[katuschka]

Touch Starved Pups – One

Jake Kiszka x f!Reader x Josh Kiszka 4.011 words

Welcome to Part One of the story about what happens to two well-behaved, bored and horny romantics when a new feisty, worldly and hot social media manager enters the building...

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

Warnings (are spoilers): expressive language, promiscuous behaviour, unprotected sex (or still rather just allusions to it , just setting the scene...), oral sex, handjob, kissing, twinfight, fistfight, angst, mockery, consensual teasing game that's borderline exploitative, slightly toxic behaviour...so, to sum it up, this is pure rock&roll filth, folks.

Also, if you like the story and want to get notifications for future updates, you can join the Taglist or see the Masterlist

Hooked? Read Part Two.

I know who I am when I'm alone

I'm something else when I see you

You don't understand, you should never know

How easy you are to need

Don't let me in with no intention to keep me

Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me

Honey, don't feed me, I will come back

Walking down the photo pit after all the other photographers cleared off is my favorite part of the day. Or night, to be more precise. That’s when I shine: strutting along, ready to capture all those best moments that make all you bitches go feral during AND after the show. This is my queendom. I make content for you lot. And I’m damn good at it.

How do I know that? The numbers just skyrocketed after I joined the team. Ka ching! All those poor things that came before me had no idea how to do their job. Tried to do some lifeless artsy shit that might be good for booklets and collectors’ crap that only collects dust, but not followers. They listened to what the band and their management wanted, but that’s not how it’s done. Nuh uh. I listen to you, my dudes. Your screeches, howls and cries. Some say that you’re crazy, but I know better. I’m here to observe what drives you crazy, and then I shall stir it up even more. When it comes to online content, the only thing that matters is what YOU want.

Make no mistake, I create art too. The crucial difference is that it’s not shit. Socials need candid eye candy and I’m here to provide it. 

I gotta admit, they make my job quite easy. All four of them do, but the twins are human masterpieces. Born pretty, they gradually learned that they could monetize it just as much as their respective talents. I didn’t need to come up with a strategy; it’s always been there for the taking. The fact that my predecessors have been mostly ignoring this is a mind-boggling mystery to me. Those guys know for sure that they ruin your panties. I just needed to know how.

So I rolled up my sleeves and went down to the barricade to do my research. Marketing’s no rocket science. Veni, vidi, vici. I just looked at them through your eyes and your own photos, and let me tell you – you bitches aren’t crazy, you are right! Yeah, I saw it too. And I get it. Some people in the team wanna keep pretending that it’s all about the music – which is surprisingly good, by the way – but that’s not what makes you sleep in the dirt and sit on a curb for days, and then again…and again. Those sons of bitches basically fuck on stage, looking very tasty while doing so. Especially Frodo and Patchybeard. Whether it’s a guitar, a mic stand or just plain air – they just shag it! Y’all look like you can feel it, and they’re very well aware. It strokes their egos, so they just keep adding fuel to the fire. The first time I saw that, I just stood there with my mouth wide open and just laughed, and laughed, and laughed. It was a fucking orgy! And then, when it was time to walk into their bright conference room and pretend to do some serious business for a change, I put on my super serious and super professional face, and I told them what needed to be done. 

Let’s just take your usual fangirl stuff and make it official. Sorry, not sorry. You crave it, so what. I keep the Facebook page artsy and businesslike for those gramps and music snobs that would go batshit crazy if they saw any more pictures with sweaty “jummies”, sparkling dicks and marshmallow balls; but anywhere else, it’s a party. 

Some of you keep wondering why they behave like such frenzied horndogs all the time. My lovelies, the explanation is pretty simple. It’s because they are! You wanna know if they are like that in real life? Yes, the answer is yes! It’s good for the show, sure thing, and they’re both true born professionals creating a breathtaking spectacle. “It’s all for you, bla bla bla!” But the truth is that they’re naturals, not really much different offstage. Lusty, filthy, bad. 

Just kidding. They’re sweethearts. Lust-driven, whiny pups that want to be played with. When the show is over, they both follow me backstage like the good boys that they are, wagging their tails at me enthusiastically. 

Ooops, what did I just say? Lemme put my fingers to my mouth and giggle like a coy lady that I’m not. Some of you already suspect it anyway, and it was collectively decided that you should hate me with passion. I guess now I’m famous, too. D’oh!

So, yeah… When I said that it was there for the taking, I forgot to mention that I also wanted to take it. Life on tour is lonely and stressful. I’m not immune to that either. Sex helps. That’s why the rockstars of yore kept fucking everything that dared to come close while they were all high as a kite. Because why not…well, apart from the fact that unlike good sex, drugs actually ruin lives. No, I’m not a fan. 

Times have changed and today’s musicians – and I’m not talking about all those wannabes with backing tracks – really need to work hard to earn their bread.They’re self-aware and sober (Take that with a pinch of salt…they’re sober while actually working.). Often homesick. Sure, some of them are still jerks or junkies. Or both. Not a fan of these either. I worked with some and it was a nightmare. 

But, when I joined the Greta Van Fleet team, I found a bunch of down-to-earth and touch starved homeboys, well aware of their power but hesitant to act upon it. That’s the difference between having a huge dick and being one. They’re – and now let me let out a sob or two for the dramatic effect – gentlemen! 

You know what a sweetheart with a huge dick is? That’s your dream come true. Believe me. That’s just something you want. I certainly did.

Not from the start, though. No. They treat the crew like friends and family, and as much as that was certainly a pleasant change, I wavered initially. They were all so kind and gentlemanly that I just decided to keep my friendly distance, thinking they really were such mama’s boys that they appeared to be…The impression didn’t last long. Soon I heard them making jokes and lewd comments when they thought no one was listening. Some of those comments were about my bouncy ass, too. 

Men, am I right? 

Alas, sweethearts’ dicks are still just dicks, and neglect will gradually take its toll. I could see right through their nervous ticks. 

Jake was the first one that fell into my snares. I didn’t really pursue it; I’m not a monster. Like I said, we were lonely and stressed, and so it just happened one fine day. He craved human contact, and I was there. Life is complicated, but certain things are still pretty simple. Thank god, or whatever supernatural entity you believe in. 

It was a lovely evening in his 2-storey hotel apartment. He often got those, because the others had this habit of gathering together in his room to discuss business – since it was his band – and to get shitfaced in the process. 

We were both sitting cross legged on his bed, both already pleasantly booze-soaked and shrouded in semi-darkness, the only source of light being the dimmed lamps in the main room. I had been giving him a lecture on the importance of a good online presence that evening. Or at least I was trying to do that… When the others got a bit too rowdy, we retreated to his bedroom to have some privacy.

When it comes to online shit, Jake’s the most difficult one. He doesn’t like it. Plain and simple. He had created this cute mask of a smooth and aloof poet slash ancient adventurer, behind which he hides, but you bitches don’t like that. You like watching him talking to his SG in front of thousands like she’s his obedient whore. See, there’s a certain discrepancy in that. I kinda understood where it was coming from, him being in his element onstage and all that shit, but I also needed him to understand my point.

And it was tough. He’s complicated. He likes to pretend to be a tough, mysterious guy, but deep down he’s just a shy and wide-eyed fawn that bounces when you say “boo”. Not always, mind. I learned that  the hard way once when I was leaving his room with scarlet imprints of his fingers on my thighs. However, drunk Jake is a meek and needy cutiepie. I could definitely use it to my advantage. So I poured us more drinks. 

“I dunno, s’not really me,” he countered after I tried to explain one more time. 

I showed him another one of the most recent videos. “Are you telling me this is not you?”

I grew really fond of his quiet “hahaha” every time he felt discomfited and flattered at the same time. Just like now. Stroking his chin with his finger, he shifted nervously and continued: “Well, yeah…uuum…you like this?” 

That was the moment when I knew I had him firmly in my grasp. Yeah, Jakey, I reeeeally like it. Let me just show you how much.

I seized my chance. We laughed and joked and flirted and all that shit. Talking about his desirable body parts that y’all take snapshots of soon turned to physical manifestations and before we knew it, his fly was open, his fat cock hard and out and firmly in my hand. I brushed my thumb gently over his pink and already leaking head before I wrapped my fingers around his shaft once again and started pumping him slowly. He just sat there and watched me with his lips parted, both mesmerized and taken aback by how quickly things escalated. I returned his stare, looking him firmly in the eye while I quickened my pace, and his breathy exhales turned to full-fledged, loud moans. I tried to shush him by forcing my other thumb in his mouth… and that only made it worse. There were still other people in the adjacent room and the door was open, but he just wouldn’t shut up! I had to grab his chin and stick my tongue in his mouth to keep him quiet. 

That sobered him up a bit. He didn’t want me to stop, he just wanted to regain control. Our tongues wrestled for a few seconds before he grabbed my cheeks and returned the kiss in such a manner that made my pussy spasm. I liked that, and we continued like that until he came all over my fingers a few minutes later. Thankfully, someone put some music on in the other room and it muffled his moans a bit, because my mouth could no longer contain them. He howled in it. It was hot.

You know, I’ve had the misfortune to cross paths with assholes who’d just throw me out after that, both satisfied and ashamed that my skills made them finish so quickly and unceremoniously, without fanfare and praises. Not Jake. He had to reciprocate AND prove himself at the same time. He’s vain, but in a good, gentlemanly way. 

After everyone else left, he just fucked my brains out. It surprised me how much he wanted to kiss, and not just my lips (either kind). His tongue was running marathons all over my body, and if I remember it correctly, I think I came five times that night. Not my record, but still a very impressive first-time. 

After that, he just kept crawling back to me, stopping me in empty hallways just to whisper obscene poems about my hungry pussy in my ear. Talking about how he’d feed me. 

He’s a sly one: the kind of a man that would run his fingertips gently down your spine in a room full of other people, while talking casually about fucking you raw, only for you to hear. I mean, that’s exactly what he did once or twice. I’m sure our “conversations” always looked completely innocent from a distance, with only Josh sometimes watching us with his lips pursed. Sometimes his eyes even narrowed a bit. That feisty chipmunk knew from the very start, and I thought I could spot jealousy in that piercing stare of his. I enjoyed that, just as much as Jake enjoyed making me wet in public, and calling it “retribution”. Honestly, I didn’t mind. Punish me as much as you want, baby, and keep using all those fancy words while doing so. Yeah. 

I’m a born provocateur, so I often just asked for more. Every time I saw him start licking his lips absentmindedly, I struck. In the end, it was always him who had to calm down, to keep it cool…to hide his hard dick. 

We both loved it. It was our little fight for dominance. We teased each other and then there would be a reward. 

It was a bit different with Josh. He’s a lover, not a fighter. He doesn’t need to fight for dominance and so he often rejects that role voluntarily.

At first I thought he wouldn’t be interested at all, even though his grabby hands landed on my bare skin more often than some would deem comfortable. But he’s like that with everyone! Including Bob, the chalice filler. It often doesn’t mean a thing. 

I knew it meant something when he almost grabbed my ass once. I tried to experiment with the same strategy I once used on Jake: using his own weapons against him, making him cross the friendly line.

It happened during a soundcheck while I was showing him a preview of my next scheduled post. His weapon was right there, on full display, and I further accentuated it by a subtle, punny caption. It made him giggle and I winked at him. 

��So, you okay with this? I mean, it’s all over the internet anyway…”

“Dear sparrow, if I weren’t okay with this, you wouldn’t be able to take such a lovely picture of it.” His hand first landed on the small of my back familiarly, just like it always did, and as we talked about other pictures in the carousel, I felt his fingers move even lower until the tip of his pinkie slid under the hem of my pants. I cleared my throat ostentatiously and he drew his hand away quickly as if I had burned him. 

“You know, I should report you for harassment for this,” I said matter-of-factly, still looking at the screen, trying to look both cool and unphased, but the twitch in the corner of my mouth gave me away. A true master of reading such subtleties, he slapped his fingers with his other hand and grinned at me. “Naughty me. Can’t blame me. You just smell so nice, sparrow. What is that?” 

“Hypnotic Poison.”

“Right…” He licked his teeth in a vain attempt not to grin even more. To be hundred percent sure, he still asked me if I wasn’t mad. Sure I wasn’t. I had been waiting for this. 

We parted after that, minding our respective businesses, but all those fleeting glances he cast my way during the rest of the afternoon didn’t escape my attention. Later, just before the show, he cornered me in the bathroom, startling me. I almost poked my eye out with a mascara when I noticed him standing right behind me. “Jesus Fucking Christ on a stick, Josh!”

“Yeah, I’m all that.” It was obvious he wasn’t there to take a leak as he kept watching me watch him in the reflection and his eyes grew darker. I slowly turned around and ran my finger down the hem of his low neckline, even more slowly. Tentatively, almost. Never breaking eye contact and with his lips slightly parted, he let me go lower until I reached the zipper head and tugged at it playfully. 

“Black velvet really suits you, you know?” I teased.

“Yeah, I know.” 

Cheeky brat. You wanna play, baby? Let me show you how it’s done. I slipped the tips of my fingers under the hem of his cleavage until I found his left nipple and started running circles over it with my middle finger. His breath hitched and his eyes widened before he seemingly regained his composure and flashed me a sly smile. 

“So…ummm…you and Jake are…exclusive?”

“Wow, you’re pretty straightforward,” I laughed. “No, we’re not. Just having some fun. Why?” 

Why, indeed. He made it pretty clear why, and I let my tongue give him the answer he desired. After the show that very night, he knocked on my door with a shy smile plastered on his face after I opened it. I welcomed him in.

Josh never fought me. He always presented himself on a silver platter and let me do whatever I pleased. Then he repaid me when the payment was due. My initial impression of him being a pillow princess wasn’t completely off, but my god! The man can fuck! Never try to piss him off. Or you know what? DO try to piss him off, because it turns him to a jackhammer. 

I once called him a sissy and the wrath that poured down on me afterwards made me see stars. 

So that’s how it went. They both knew what was happening behind closed doors with the other one, and both were ok with that, as long as it didn’t interfere with their own plans. And that was just a matter of time. 

To tell you the truth, I did wonder what it would be like to have them both, so when the opportunity presented itself, I would be a fool not to encourage it. 

Every once in a while, there are shows where shit just happens and everything that can go wrong, does do wrong. It was one of those nights. Even back at the venue, right after the show, I saw how both their faces were twisted with tension, and maybe the best way to avoid even more trouble would have been to avoid them altogether. They weren’t the only people who had a rough night. I was exhausted, too. If I were a bit more responsible, I would have settled for a nice hot bath and a filthy book, but sadly, I’m a people pleaser. Also, nothing can calm me down better than the smell of male skin.

It was long past midnight when I heard a knock on my door. 

“It’s me, Bebe. Please, let me in.” 

That’s right. He gave me that nickname shortly after we started fucking, even though I teased him that he would never beat those allegation that way. 

If you guessed that I indeed did open the door, you’re right. He didn’t even wait for the invitation to enter this time. The stress was doing us no good. I could smell even more troubleon the horizon, but I ignored it.

“Jake, you can’t just storm inside like this. What if I had company?” It was no use to argue with him. No longer sober to begin with, he was already making himself at home and pouring himself another drink. 

“Please, Bebe, stop teasing. I need you! I promise you won’t regret it.”

“Well, tough luck! Josh asked first.”

“Oh no, no no no! It’s my turn, baby! You can’t do this to me. Tonight was hell. Call him and tell him that you’re mine.” I shot him a sharp look, so he added quickly: “... for the night. ” Well, that only made it worse. 

Funny how quickly they got accustomed to the fact that I was just within reach. I would have been offended if I weren’t aware of how insolently I played with them too. Still, I should have said no, but I’m just human. 

However, the whole situation was already a bit more complicated than that. “I can’t. He’s already here.” 

Jake cast me a confused look before he smiled sympathetically at my feeble attempt to get rid of him. “Where? Hiding in the closet?”

“No, he’s in the shower.”

He just stood there for a short while, contemplating something, before he grabbed my cheeks with both hands and whispered sultrily: “Please, love, just a blowjob then. Your mouth can do wonders, baby. I beg you.” Noticing that I wavered, he bent closer to whisper in my ear: “You can ride my face anytime you want. You know that.”

Again, I should have said no, but the said mouth already started watering when I noticed the rapidly growing bulge. Mentally, he was already hitting my tonsils. I was on my knees in seconds. I knew Josh usually took his time, so maybe it was manageable. And if not…well, surely there was a way to benefit from the hypothetical pickle, should it happen.

And it happened. I was deepthroating him with both his hands holding my head and his head tilted back, when we heard the door open.

“Jesus fuck, Jake!” 

The moment of surprise made me gag. Jake withdrew quickly and started tugging himself back in his pants, which wasn’t easy, given his current state. Josh, however, just stood there completely and unabashedly naked. “Get out!” he bellowed, completely forgetting that it was in fact MY room they were both in. 

“No,” Jake spat back.

They started barking at each other like berserk chihuahuas. I swear, I was seconds from throwing them BOTH out, dicks out and all. They could keep shouting at each other in the hall or even in the main lobby for all I cared, but the wicked creature in me wanted to see how this would escalate. And it escalated majestically. 

I hadn’t bothered to unpack my suitcase earlier that day. It just lay open on the floor with my purple vibrator placed haphazardly on top of my lingerie. Jake spotted it, bent down to retrieve it and before I could argue, he thrust it against Josh’s bare chest while his other hand patted his cheek: “Here, this should do. Now bugger off!” 

I think I stopped breathing for a second. They teased each other quite often, but this seemed downright mean, even to their standards. I think Jake realized it too, but it was too late. We both watched the flames that appeared behind Josh’s dilated pupils and before either of us could react, Josh started after him and pushed him against the wall. And so the party started. In a matter of mere seconds, Jake fist almost collided with Josh’s jaw. Thankfully, Frodo is quite nimble, so he ducked the blow and striked back, his knuckles colliding with Jake’s forearm. Watching them wrestle like that, fuming, limbs intertwined, I was almost sorry I had no popcorn at hand. It was a comical sight: Josh still completely naked, Jake barely tucked back in his jeans. 

Have you ever seen puppies fighting over a toy? That’s them. They were both so needy and neither one ready to give up. It was time to seize the opportunity, so I… started laughíng. Loudly and mockingly. They both let go of each other and turned their heads to the source of that offensive sound: me. 

I was sitting on the edge of my bed, leaning back on my arms and with my legs crossed, contemplating my next move. Realizing I had no panties under my punto tube dress, I decided to Basic Instinct them. Sure, nothing new, but men are simple creatures. A naked pussy is like the Moon they howl at. It’s always new. Moreover, the fact that they never saw me like this before together was surely a great bonding experience of its own. I watched their faces for more clues and grinned viciously when I saw exactly what I hoped for. See, they’re different in many ways including this. Jake licks his lips, while Josh clenches his jaw. I tutted at them, watching how they both raised their eyebrows in a silent question. 

“Guys! You both know very well that I got more than one hole.”

Hooked? Read Part Two.

@its-interesting-van-kleep @takenbythemadness @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @ignite-my-fire @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @lvnterninthenight @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @sanguinebats @thewritingbeforesunrise @wetkleenex-gvf @lyndz2names @emojakekiszka @hollyco @lizzys-sunflower @fleetingjake @cheersdannyx2 @gvfstuddedmajesty @gvfmarge @dayumclarizzel @musicislove3389 @lipstickitty

[idciminlove]

Take a Slice

Part Eight- Sitter

f!reader x Tashi Duncan x Art Donaldson x Patrick Zweig

Cinnamonacid on AO3

warnings- age gap, implied sexual content, and nothing rlly

You don’t realize that you have an audience.

Patrick leaned back in his seat, taking a deep drag from his cigarette as his eyes followed your form. He watched as you ran back and forth across the court, moving quickly and strategically, listening to Tashi’s every command. It made sense why she liked you so much. You had her fire, her drive, but at the same time you were so eager to please, doing whatever she says. It was an interesting combination, one he didn’t see often, only when he brought that fire out of people, like he did with Art.

He wondered what he could bring out of you. He wondered what he could push you to do.

For the time being, he can’t know. He’s sidelined. Unable to speak to you or even get close. Not until Tashi thinks you’re ready to handle it. Not until Tashi thinks you’re ready to handle him.

Once again, he’s left out, helpless watching as the only two people he’s truly ever loved devote all their time and attention to you. It stings. Especially with how easy it was for you, how you were able to just fall into their laps and enter their lives on a whim, while Patrick had to struggle and fight for years on end.

It wasn’t long until Tashi saw him. She locked eyes with him for a moment, pausing briefly before she finally stopped. She gave you a break to go drink some water and catch your breath. You went inside to fill up your water bottle and she made her way over to the stands and over to him.

“What are you doing here?” She asked in that same accusatory tone she always uses when he’s in trouble. The one with venom and heat behind it, when she’s stressed and wound up tight, one he could probably fix, if she let him. But judging by the way she was looking at him, she looked more like she wanted to slap him than fuck him right now....maybe she’ll do both. He hoped so.

“Am I not allowed to come watch your training sessions? You have no problem when I watch you coach those other girls from the foundation.” He played innocent.

“You know that this is different. I told you to-”

“Listen, we both know that you can’t send me away forever. If she’s going to be involved in this, she’ll find out sooner or later. Wouldn’t you want her to hear from you rather than someone else? And it’s not like I’m going to try to steal her away. You really need to loosen up, Tash.”

“Fuck you.” She hissed.

He slumped back in his seat, smirking at her. “Yeah, I know you want to. I mean, you’ve been so uptight lately, I could help you relax.”

She dug her nails into her arm, biting the inside of her cheek. She was stronger than this. She should be stronger than this. But you’ve been getting her wound tight with those tiny tennis skirts and your shaky breaths after she works you hard, your grunts and moans and it took everything in her to not dig her nails into you and keep you there forever. Keep you as hers forever.

She inhaled deeply. “You have ten minutes.”

–

You stood in the lobby that was right next to the courts, filling up your water bottle at the fountain. You took a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of the air conditioning against your heated skin. Tashi was pushing you today, like always, leaving you hot, sweaty, and exhausted. You appreciated the breaks she gave you. She was so aware of when she pushed you past your limits, and when to stop. Most coaches you had before either pushed you too hard or never hard enough, but she was perfect. It was like she knew you, inside and out. Probably since she was the best of the best. You’ve never had a coach as good as her. You were so lucky.

You gazed around the building, at the photos of Tashi lining the walls. Pictures of her when she was younger, playing tennis, winning trophies, and her adidas campaign. There was a small gap between the pictures, just the pale white space of the wall, and then there were more, from when she was older, coaching at the foundation, along with some magazine clippings.

A familiar voice echoed down the hallway, getting your attention. It was Art, holding the hand of a young girl. His daughter. “You did great, honey. I’m so proud of you.”

“Does that mean we can go get ice cream now?” You gazed at the two as they approached. She looked just like Tashi.

“If you want, but Mommy’s almost done with her coaching session. Don’t you want to wait for her?”

Finished with filling up your water bottle, you turned on your heel and approached them. “Evening, Mr.Donaldson. Who’s this?”

“This is my daughter, Lily.” She gazed over at you nervously, flashing you a small, polite smile.

You smiled warmly in return and introduced yourself. “So you’re getting ice cream, huh? That’s really cool. What’s your favorite flavor?”

“Chocolate.” She replied coyly.

“Oooh, I love chocolate. What’s the occasion?”

“I finished my math homework.”

“She’s been having a bit of a hard time with math, but she’s doing great now.” Art admitted. He was already having a hard enough time getting her to focus, and it was the only way he could really motivate her. But he didn’t mind too much, he was just happy to spend time with his daughter.

“Nice.” You leaned down and gave her a high five.

Just then, Tashi entered the room, from the opposite hallway where the bathrooms were. Weird. You never even saw her come inside. She was fixing her hair and wiping away the wrinkles in her shirt.

“Coach? What are you doing here?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“I was looking for you. C’mon, we have to get back to it.” Lily ran past you and threw her arms around her waist. “Mommy! Are you going to come with me and daddy to get ice cream?”

“In a little bit, okay baby? We just need fifteen minutes to finish up.” She spoke so sweetly to her daughter, patting her head gently. She gazed at you and tilted her head to the side, gesturing for you to go out to the tennis courts.

You did as told, but not before you turned to Art briefly. “You know, if you ever needed a babysitter or anything, I could totally help. It’s basically all I did every summer until I turned eighteen.”

You didn’t know how appropriate it was to suggest that to your coach/mentor’s husband, but it was a great opportunity. Babysitting for rich retired tennis players? You could really use that money. There was a reason why you didn’t go pro after you graduated high school. It was extremely expensive. The only way you were able to play in college was due to the full ride scholarship you had gotten. And if it weren’t for Tashi offering to cover almost all the expenses, you wouldn’t have been able to say yes. So, why not?

Tashi followed you out to the courts, and soon enough, you were practicing again. But for some reason, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

Maybe if you paid more attention, you would’ve noticed him, with his messy black curlsand tousled shirt, sitting at the very end of the stands and smoking a cigarette, watching and waiting.

[marigold-hills]

Dunes & Waters, part 43

PART 1 • PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART

NOTE: NSFW, explicit, minors DNI. This is just 1300 words of smut.

It’s so very fitting, Remus thinks, that flooding of the Nile coincides with the heliacal rising of Sirius. How right that the Ancient Egyptians should mark the start of their calendar by it, five thousand years beginning and ending to the brightest star appearing in the sky, heralding another season of life-sustaining deluge. 

Its earthly counterpart comes out of the bedroom that’s long become nothing but a walk-in closet. Remus thinks that yes, he is the Dog Star, but he fits even better in the name’s old meaning: scorching, glowing.

Sirius is always the brightest, but now…

“Alright there?” He asks because Remus is stuck, frozen solid, stood up from where before he was sitting at the kitchen table, tea and crossword forgotten.

“What’s… what’s that around your neck?”

“Oh, this?” Sirius laughs like it’s nothing, runs lovely fingers across the black leather adorning his throat.

Remus is the first to admit he’s not great at transfiguration. It’s finicky and more an art than a science, and he doesn’t have the patience for it. He uses it sporadically, only when absolutely needed.

His belt, which he changed into a still belt-like dog collar, sits comfortably snug across the delicate column of Sirius’ neck. The buckle is on the front, glinting golden-bronze in the sunlight. There’s a little hoop of metal where Remus attached the lead. It’s probably the best thing he’s ever created. His knees are about to give out.

“Figured if we’re going out of town I might go for a run. A proper one. And you never know if we’ll need to distract some Muggles again, so… this way I’m ready. I’ve got the leash too,” he shakes it in his hand to demonstrate, the leather snapping against itself and the skin of his wrist.

Sirius is way too calm for the situation. Comes over to the table and drinks from Remus’ cup. He’s wearing a cropped Nirvana t-shirt and the jutting edges of his hipbones are on display. He puts the leash down. Remus is still standing.

“What’s wrong with you?” There’s nothing in Sirius’s face that suggests he knows what this is doing. He’s just there, with a collar Remus made for him around the soft parts of his throat, and Remus discovers things about himself he never expected.

“You’re just… too beautiful for your own good.”

(And Sirius blushes, like he didn’t expect that.)

Remus can’t help himself - doesn’t want to help himself. He reaches out and runs his hand against the leather, against the same place Sirius touched. It’s hard and sturdy and covers the bit Remus likes to suck bites into, soft and supple underneath.

And, just like that, Sirius gets it - he grins like the cat that got the cream, or rather like a dog that got the cat, wide and mischievous and so pleased with himself. With his discovery. “That does it for you, is it?”

“Apparently so.”

The smile gets even bigger and Remus thinks he should maybe be afraid.

“I’m so hot you’re discovering new kinks?”

“Fucking hell, Sirius.” He’s downright flustered. The whole thing is unsettling. They should be leaving in a moment, but… 

Well, there’s a little metal hoop that just begs to be pulled. 

Remus does, finger crooking around the coldness of it and Sirius goes, the smile wiped clean into blankness. Big eyes staring upwards, through lashes, with nothing in them. For a moment Remus worries that he miscalculated, hastens to apologise, but before he can, Sirius whines. It’s low and needy and usually it takes Remus quite a bit longer to get him to sound like that. It’s a sound he’s become intimately familiar with, made it into a mission and a job to wring out of those lovely, lovely lips. He has bitten it out of Sirius’ mouth and had caused it in a myriad of ways, and he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, what it means.

Don’t stop. Keep going.

So he does. Pushes fingers underneath, between the leather and the skin and it’s such a snug fit, he feels Sirius’ pulse as if it was in the palm of his hand. 

He brings his mouth to Sirius’ and nips, the smallest bite, into the plushness of his bottom lip. “Keep going then, love. You were being so cheeky a moment ago, what happened?”

Sirius whines again when he doesn’t get a kiss, when Remus moves away instead and tugs at the collar, minuscule little pulls that seem to shake him completely. 

“Or is this what it takes to get you to behave? Had I known, I would have put a collar on you weeks ago.”

The way Sirius looks at him, almost like he’s been betrayed. By Remus’ words, or by his own body.

“What, don’t you want to be good for me?”

If Remus thought Sirius was gone before, it was nothing on this. Sirius’ eyes roll backwards, up to the sky, and his whole face becomes lose.

“Oh, you do,” it’s Remus’ turn to tease and to smile something almost feral, “now why didn’t you just say that before?”

Remus manoeuvres them to the couch. Lands on top of Sirius, hands on the skin exposed by the short top. Thinks to make a game of this, see how much and how fast can he make Sirius unravel. All the little likes he’d memorised are ammunition.

“nfrwy-pHwy.ky,” he says low, straight into the bone of Sirius’ jaw.

“What does that mean?” a whined out question.

“Your arse is exquisite,” Remus grabs at Sirius’ hip, fingers digging into the muscle he’s just complimented to illustrate his point. The way it gives makes him want to bite.

Sirius is hard underneath him. Normally so tactile and responsive, now he lays there stunned and pliant and… definitely not patient. “Please. Remus. More. I need…”

“Be good for me, love. ᵉntok noufr.  You can be, no?”

“Fuck. Yes. Yes I can. But please…”

Remus grinds his hand into Sirius’ cock and gets rewarded with a loud, desperate keen. Sirius bends into the touch, back arched like the walkways of the Abusir Necropolis, fingers scrambling for purchase on the smooth material of the sofa.

The other hand, Remus crooks underneath the collar, at the side of Sirius’ neck, and pulls. It’s not hard, but the way the leather bites into his skin means it must be restricting his breathing just a bit. Remus releases. Is about to check in.

“Why did you stop? Fucking hell Remus don’t stop.”

Better than a check in. Enthusiastic consent. Remus pulls again, a bit harder, pushes his hand into the confines of Sirius’ trousers. There is a wet spot on the material of his underwear already and he’s so hard it’s like holding metal.

Remus is beyond turned on, but doesn’t let himself indulge. Keeps himself focused on each of the sounds Sirius makes, growing louder and more desperate with each tug on the collar and pull on his cock. Remus pushes the horrible T-shirt up Sirius’ torso with his teeth and bites the exposed nipple, growls out “ii wy ink,” come for me, and that’s all it takes. 

Sirius takes a long time to come back to himself. Blinks slowly, dazedly. Remus casts a cleaning charm on him and means to get him water, maybe a blanket, but instead gets pulled down again. They lay wrapped around one another, heavy breaths mingling and Sirius clinging the way he never had before, for all that he is usually touchy after they have sex.

“Are you alright?” Remus asks when he seems to come back to himself a little, when his eyes aren’t quite so shocked and large.

“Do that to me always.”

“Anything you want, love,” Remus laughs into his hair. 

NEXT PART

NOTES:

I did say he walks well on a leash :):)

Who knew ancient Egyptians were so horny? That line about the arse is literally verbatim from an old song although originally it says “you have beautiful buttocks”. I just didn’t like the word buttocks in the context of what they are doing here and well I mean it’s the same word really. Allowing myself creative freedom

had NO IDEA that Sirius rose in the sky as Nile flooded Aswan when I wrote any of this. Love it when things just come together so neatly.

“you’re so close to the ending,” I say, “focus on the story.” Immediately writes over 1k of smut.

Crazy thought but if I were to write a fanfic of this fanfic I’d switch their roles around. Sirius would be a researcher and he’d know that he needs a werewolves voice/hair etc in order to open the Box so the Ministry provides him with one that’s in Azkaban. Remus doesn’t get a say. It’s not a condition of release, it’s just a condition of his imprisonment, to have experiments done on him. And Sirius hates it because this man is there completely against his Will, but also he needs him to get his work done and maybe make life better for werewolves? Remus thinks he just hates him because he is one.

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(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged!)

[v3lvet-midnight]

Hi, I’m requesting a DC matchup

I can be very socially awkward and insecure, especially in groups of people I don’t know that well. I can get overstimulated easily and will need time to recharge. I have some sensory issues so any partner would need to be understanding and patient with that (and not mind me only ordering hot dogs or chicken tenders at restaurants)

When it comes to my relationships, I’m a different story though. I’m known for being a mother hen towards my loved ones, friends and family included, and tend to view those I care about to be mine to love and protect. I am also very protective. If someone makes my friend upset, I’m ready to ride. Especially in romantic relationships.

I tend to not be good at remembering things unless I’m reminded periodically. I’m not good at responding to texts, and unconsciously can be overbearing, but once I’m given a boundary I’m good at following it.

I prefer to listen to my partner talk about their interest or to just spend time with them doing our own things and listening to music while the two of us just hang out together. My main love languages are quality time and words of affirmation.

I’m nonbinary and pansexual so any gender works for my mashup. Please take care of yourself and be safe!

𝔩𝔬𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔲𝔭....

ᴋʏʟᴇ ʀᴀʏɴᴇʀ - ɢʀᴇᴇɴ ʟᴀɴᴛᴇʀɴ

Kyle is a patient man, not only that but he is a devoted hopeless romantic which in my opinion, makes him perfect for you. Kyle I as patient as they come as a friend and even more so as a partner. He will catch on to the smallest changes when you feel overwhelmed or over stimulated and he himself isn't comfortable until he knows you are.

Your protectiveness catches him off guard, not in a bad way he loves it, it's the sweetest thing ever to him. He is just as caring and protective with you.

Kyle is very affectionate and loves spending time with you, when you aren't sitting with him or away on your own terms for a while, he'd give you random gifts and almost all of them involve his love for art one way or another.

the other green lanterns constantly tell you/ make fun of him for how much he talks about you like you're the most important thing in the world (spoiler: to him you are)

Kyle would definitely be ok with your dietary choices he doesn't see an issue with them, as long as you eat he is happy

Kyle will melt if you praise his art, and he loves that he can talk about his love for art when he wants. His eyes gleam with excitement as he talks about a painting he is working on or the story line to a comic he is thinking of making. he also takes any advice you give him in high regards because to him it is.

Kyle is loving all around, he has a bit of every love language in him so you dont really know what to expect with him

[changingplumbob]

Knightstone Household: Chapter 9, Part 6

Suzanna and Pollock called Adam and Silas out of the office to open some more gifts.

Adam: Pol, what happened to your costume

Pollock: Not know

Suzanna: He wanted to get in his overalls after his bath. We’ve already taken the family photo

With gifts to each other out of the way the family examine what Father Winter has left for them. Pollock gets a Blarfy, Silas gets a model train, Adam got a common gem and Suzanna got a painting. It’s like Father Winter doesn’t know Suzanna is the one collecting gems and Adam is the one who likes fine art, weird.

Pollock: Mummy, can we book

Suzanna: You want a book

Pollock: I lo books

Silas: Can I listen to Mummy

Suzanna: I guess we’re reading a book then. Let’s go in the lounge, it’ll be comfier than the table

The trio move to the lounge and Pollock grabs the spot beside Suzanna.

Suzanna: Okay let’s see. This one is about a train

Pollock: Does train have name

Suzanna: They just call it the engine

Silas: We should call it something cool like... Harold

Suzanna: What do you think Pollock

Pollock: Yes to Silas

So Suzanna reads them the story doing her best to substitute in Harold for engine whenever she can.

After the story Silas jumps online to play with Ruth and Tyree.

Suzanna: Now Pollock, did I see you hit Sydney today

Pollock: No Mummy

Suzanna sighs. She did see it which means it’s likely Pollock is an aggressive toddler. They’ll have to find some way to channel that before he ends up a hot head like Adam.

Suzanna: Want to play for a bit Moondust?

Pollock: Yes Mummy

It seems Suzanna decides the best spot to play is right in front of the TV that Silas is trying to use...

Silas: Do you have to play right there

Suzanna: I would move but I can’t find your brother

Katherine: He’s on your back Suzie. Die, clay, die!

Suzanna: Oh there you are

Pollock: *giggles*

Suzanna: Shall we fly like a rocket ship huh? Zoom

Silas: Stay on the right please Mummy. My character is on the left

At dinner Pollock finally gets his serving of the grand meal while the rest of the household has some fish and chips.

Adam: Silas are you alright? You look a bit pale

Silas: My stomach doesn’t feel good

Suzanna: Ethelyn was saying she felt sick, maybe he got the bug off her

Adam: Yeah that would- Pollock! Do you have to spill so much. Try to eat over your plate

Pollock: I do

Silas: Mummy can I stay home from school tomorrow

Suzanna: I’m not sure the mod lets you do that

Silas: Can’t you let me do that

Adam: Silas we both have work tomorrow and your brother will be going to daycare. There’ll be no one here to watch you so you’ll have to go to school

Pollock: *thinking to himself* I made a pretty mess

While Adam and Suzanna take care of the dishes the boys nap on the couches, not quite ready for Winterfest to end.

Adam: Did we do Winterfest right then

Suzanna: There is one more thing... mistletoe

Adam: And it’s a tradition to kiss under it?

Suzanna: Yep. Can’t remember why but it is

Adam: Humans and their nonsense. Come on then Starlight

The two kiss and feel their hearts flutter. It's one of those times they both feel grateful to have found each other on this lump of rock.

Suzanna: Think we could have a quick jaunt upstairs before the boys wake up from their naps

Adam: Oh absolutely

Heading back downstairs Adam starts a TV workout while Suzanna shepherds the kids to bed. Pollock is keen for another story so Suzanna reads to him while Silas falls asleep quickly with his tummy bug. Once Pollock is snoring Suzanna tucks her two sons in and is about to leave the room when she remembers the monster under the bed. She’s not too sure if Silas needs to see her spray it but she gives a precautionary spray just in case.

Previous ... Next

[devil-doll13]

Some House of Wax/Sinclair Brothers Headcanons I’ve had in my head that I’ve already shared w the server but… The rest of the world deserves to know.

Related to gif, Vincent is the ‘medical expert’ of the house solely because he’s the one who knows the human body/first aid the best. I mean, in the movie we see him stitching up those wounds on what’s-his-face pretty neatly, right? This is also part of the reason why he automatically reaches for Bo during this scene.

Given his birth date was sniffed out by fans before me (1970) and this man looks like he’s a cosplayer sometimes, I truly believe Bo idolised Elvis Presley as a kid, and maybe a bit as an adult as well. He still enjoys listening to rock n’ roll from that era when he’s in a good mood. When he’s in a bad mood, or doing his business™️ in his sex dungeon/basement, that’s when the Marilyn Manson comes on.

All of them have had an alt phase of some sort. For Vincent it was goth, for Bo it was rivethead/industrial rock and for Lester it was grunge.

Les is also down bad fucking horrendous for alt people in general. Yes, he has magazines stuffed down his sofa, yes, they used to be Bo’s.

Bo is allergic to nuts. He also gets really nasty hay fever. I also think possibly him having sensory issues/picky eater could’ve led to meltdowns as we see in the opening. And really, it’s the 1970s/80s do you expect his parents to understand or sympathise?

In contrast, Lester has the constitution of a Greek god somehow and has probably eaten some absolutely vile shit as a kid.

I know most people interpret Vince as sweet and shy but… While I do think he’s more measured and withdrawn compared to Bo, I also think being the ‘favourite’ in terms of being Trudy’s little art prodigy contributed to a sort of spoilt brattiness esp as a kid. (Exhibit A: The ‘Bo Sux’ fridge art in the opening) As an adult, there’s still a sense of entitlement to him. What I’m saying is that he’s an insufferable art nerd lol. He definitely isn’t toothless and his arguments with Bo aren’t necessarily one-sided, he’s just capable of ignoring him when he wants to; he’s used to his twin, after all. While I do think he’s capable of being soft, don’t forget this man killed a woman in cold blood and recorded it. I also think he can get snippy enough during arguments to combat Bo’s generally sharp tongue.

Speaking of which, everyone in the (surviving) family knows ASL. It’s necessary when communicating with Vincent.

Again with how prolific a killer Vincent is, I suspect he may be the one who does the most murder out of all of them. Bo is the handsome ‘face’ of Ambrose, and Vincent is right under the seedy underbelly with a knife, ready to spill guts (and then sew it up again once he’s got them in the workshop). Lester is similar to Bo in that he mostly just guides people toward the town, but I do think he gets his own notions sometimes.

From a more x reader perspective, Bo strikes me as a man who’s most charming when he’s not trying to be. Of course he can put on an act for victims/tourists, but those are just empty words, y’know? Also, has a kinda cheesy side.

I know everyone has Jonesy as Lester’s dog but… I think she’s really Vincent’s. In the movie, she’s always seen with Vin or in the house of wax itself, it’s only when he dies that she goes to Lester. I actually think Les is a cat person (tell me he wouldn’t actually encourage their hunting habits for his own personal collection…) while Vin is a dog person. Also, hot take I think Bo loves snakes and reptiles.

Given that the House of Wax and Ambrose itself is a big ol’ art project, and we’ve seen the state of the church (permanently in the middle of dead ass crusty Trudy’s funeral) I think there may be a sort of difficulty letting go of their past in the brothers, maybe some hoarding as well (I mean we haven’t even seen some of the other houses in Ambrose but this is just speculation). We get the sense that Ambrose is a place where time stands still, forever, until its conservationists finally die. Idk I’m talking out my ass here

[thevirginwitch]

Paper Poppet Spell for Luck & Success

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Poppets are a very popular way of typically conducting baneful magic – however, in this spell, the poppet will be representing yourself, and you will be performing sympathetic magic to increase your success and luck! This spell is to help aid you in achieving goals and success in any endeavors you may be attempting right now. I recommend carrying out this spell during a full moon, and/or on a Sunday. Of course, feel free to tweak this spell and its components as needed to better suit your needs/practice! This spell is a great beginner spell for sympathetic magic, and you can use this as a template if you wish to create any other poppet spells in the future.

Materials:

Wax warmer along with wax (in the color of your choice), or a candle (in the color of your choice) with a way to collect/use the melted wax. I personally used a mix of green and gold wax, as those colors typically represent abundance.

2 sheets of origami paper, 20cm x 20cm (if you only have typical printer paper, you can use scissors to cut to the correct size!)

Taglock – a piece of your hair, nail clipping, etc. You could also write your name on the poppet! (optional)

Art supplies - paint, colored pencils, markers, etc. Anything you feel comfortable using. (optional)

Mint

Chamomile

Star tarot card (optional)

Citrine

Water

Instructions:

Prepare your workspace and yourself for spellwork however you typically would. I personally like to smoke cleanse with incense, clear off my work area, and work through a guided meditation for focus. I also tend to light a candle or two that corresponds with what type of magic I’m trying to perform. During this step, be sure to turn on your wax warmer or light the candle you’ll be using for the spell.

Create your paper poppet using origami - you can follow this tutorial: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KDkxJi4kGz4. When folding your poppet, imagine you are pouring yourself into the folds of the poppet - your personality, your likeness, your life story, etc. Take some time to sprinkle each of the herbs (mint and chamomile) into some of the folds of your poppet as well - this step will help you “fold” success into yourself (your poppet). Instead of origami, you may also choose to instead cut out a human shape out of your paper - this is a great option if you are short on time, or have mobility/joint issues!

Once your paper poppet is complete, you may decorate it however you see fit - or choose to leave it plain. You may also choose to write words corresponding to your goals. For example: “new job”, “wealth”, “happy love life”, etc. Get creative with it - this poppet is supposed to represent you, after all! You may also add your taglock to the poppet during this step.

By now, your wax should be ready. Take your poppet and carefully dip each foot, hand, and the head into the wax. (Please be EXTREMELY careful if you are using a candle as a method for obtaining wax. And remember, wax is VERY hot!) As you dip each body part, feel free to recite the following (or come up with your own):

Submerge these hands in abundance; these feet in opportunity; And this head in gratitude for what’s to come.

Before the wax dries, sprinkle a bit more herbs on the wet wax to further “glue” success to yourself (your poppet). Be sure to hold onto your poppet as the wax dries before moving onto the next steps; taking care not to touch the wax as it dries.

Once the wax is nice and solid, set your poppet down on your Star tarot card (optional) and add your citrine and herbs to a bowl of water. Dip your fingertips in the bowl, and anoint your poppet with a bit of water. Be careful not to completely get it wet, as the poppet will obviously begin to fall apart - the goal is to just give it a light misting/sprinkle of water.

Finally, the ritual is complete! You may feel the urge to hold onto the poppet until your success is evident. Stash it on your windowsill or somewhere that sees a lot of foot traffic or sunlight – perhaps on your mantle or by your front door. If you’re in the broom closet, you could stash it in your daily bag/purse or wallet. Once you feel you’ve achieved the success you expected, you may dispose of the poppet in the garbage.

[wendy130]

One Of Those Days

// Very short writing prompt to get back into the groove. Inspired from this art post I made. Thanks @x-pair-o-dice-x :P

// Warnings: soft vore, safe vore, fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hi Techno.”

Techno peers an eye open, blinking slowly as his eyes flicker down onto the empty beach. His gaze lands on a familiar black-and-white haired human, and he hums sleepily, “hullo Ranboo.”

The human looks… tired. More so than usual, at least. They’re shifting back and forth on their feet, looking rather anxious. And, despite it being a hot summer day, they’re wearing a sweater and long pants. On a beach, no less. Usually, they’d be wearing some kind of floral shirt.

He shifts his tail, which is submerged into the ocean, and lifts his head off of his folded up arms with a yawn, “did you need something?”

Ranboo falters and hugs their arms, “uh. Yeah.”

He waits for them to continue on, raising an eyebrow when they don’t. “Okay? What do you need?”

Their mouth opens and closes like a floundering fish, and— now he just feels concerned for the human. “Well, uh,” they start slowly, “I— I, uh, wanted to ask something of you— you don’t have to say yes, obviously. I would understand if you wouldn’t want to—“

“Ranboo,” he cuts them off with a grumble. It only serves to make them more nervous, but he was never the best with comforting people through flowery words. “I’m sure I’ll be fine with whatever you’re talking about, but I kinda need to know what you’re on about.”

“Oh. Right. Uh,” Ranboo digs their nails into their arms with a wince. “Um. I was wondering if… well, if you’d be okay with… with… Um.” Their next words are so quiet and quick, Techno has to strain his ears to understand them. “Eating me.”

And— Oh.

Techno feels his heart soften immediately as he rolls onto his side to reveal his underbelly. “Is it one of those days?”

Ranboo takes the invitation immediately, dragging themselves over to his chest and leaning against it. “Mm.. yeah.”

“…Want to talk about it?”

“No.” 

He doesn’t push. “Okay.”

Neither one speaks for a few minutes, no words needing to be said. They know each other well enough to understand the other’s needs without tedious words. Techno breaths in and out slowly, letting Ranboo match the leisured pace, and Ranboo presses their ear against his chest, listening to Techno’s beating heart, to his powerful lungs, and to his rumbling stomach. 

They sit, until Ranboo has enough courage to pull away. 

Techno takes it as his cue to cup his hands around the boy and pulls them to his face. “Still want to hide away for a bit?” When Ranboo nods, he parts his jaw open to reveal a glistening, hungry maw awaiting the two-color haired teen. Sliding them past his sharp teeth with ease, he hums in delight. Ranboo always did taste good. 

Ranboo bats at his tongue gently as he starts to lick them, soaking up their flavor. “Oh come on, you really can’t hold yourself back, can you?” 

He chuckles fondly, mumbling around them, “hey, if I’m getting the chance to eat you, I want to enjoy it a little~”

They groan, and he lets out another chuckle, tucking them further into his mouth with a purr. Despite his teasing words, he continues onwards and left them hanging at the edge of his throat. 

“Ready?” He hums, his voice rumbling deep into the human’s bones from how close they are to his throat. 

“Yeah,” the human whispers, pawing at his tongue. 

With that confirmation, he tilts his head back and swallows. He hovers a hand right against his throat, feeling their little bump glide down against his hand and— something about Ranboo just clicks his instincts into overdrive. 

They feel like a mer pup, albeit much smaller, who’s getting tucked away to be safe and sound. He purrs, loud and comfortingly. They’re much safer in his storage, where nothing can reach them. 

He lays back down, shifting to rest on his back instead of his stomach, and he places a hand over his storage as something featherlight slips in. “You good?” he drowsily murmurs.

A muffled ‘yes’ is all he gets before he feels them flop down with a groan. 

He chuckles. “Alright. I’m going back to napping. Let me know when you want out.”

[bucksbelly]

HP Rec Fest - Part 1 (Days 1-16)

Boy, has it been a moment since I've gone through my fanfic bookmarks. Thankful that @hprecfest has given me a reason to do so and rediscover some old gems!

Anyways making this list made me realize that I'm a connoisseur of explicit content so most of these are smutty and I'll leave that up to you to decide whether that's good or bad

(These are almost exclusively post-war fics where everyone is an adult, unless otherwise stated!)

1. A favorite fic under 5k: If We Lie Like This by everythingokay

(Harry x Charlie Weasley, rated E, 4.1k)

Harry/Charlie is one of my absolute favorite ships of all time, and this is one of the sweetest pwps I've ever read of them, so you know this had to be my first rec.

2. A comfort fic: Lumos by birdsofshore

(Drarry, rated E, 41.5k)

This is one of my oldest bookmarks, and still one of the best. I love, love, love eighth year fics, in no small part because of this one. The summary really says it all:

"Harry never expected to spend eighth year listening to Draco Malfoy wanking."

3. A podfic

I've truly never listened to a podfic in my life, I just prefer reading I'm sorry

4. A fic with art: What Have You Been Hiding Under Those Robes, Professor Malfoy? by Booktopus

(Drarry, Rated E, 15k - art is NSFW!)

Finding art in my fics is such a rare, exciting surprise, especially because I rarely go looking for them. Now, a GIF? And a smutty gif at that? Of tattooed professor Draco? What. A. Find.

5. A non-AO3 fic: The Lust of Gryffindors by Fearful Porpentine

(Harmione + so many pairings/groupings, rated M, 381.5k, aged-up during canon)

Yeah, I'm pretty much exclusively an AO3 girlie, so I don't have many options for this one. Still, this is a standout as one of my favorite smutty extravaganzas.

6. An unreliable narrator fic: Touch by bixgirl1

(Drarry, Rated E, 45k)

I had this fic on my TBR for so long before I actually read it, and when I finally did, I was KICKING myself for waiting so long! I love touch-starved characters finally getting what they need (is it self-fulfilling? perhaps), and I never thought a sleep-deprived Harry could be so funny.

(I'm aware this is an unreliable narrator in the loosest sense of the word but I'm sticking with it because it NEEDS to be recced)

7. A canon-compliant fic: With the Edges Worn Down by MayatheBee

(Harry x Ron x Hermione, rated E, 13k)

By "canon-compliant," we mean "takes place so far in the future that canon can't disprove it," right?

If so, then here's my pick. After Ginny's death, Ron and Hermione decide to finally act on feelings that have been ignored for their entire friendship. It is so, so sweet and so, so hot.

8. A canon-divergence fic: Safe Word is Devil's Snare by ShayaLonnie

(Neville x Hermione, rated E, 97k)

Hot Neville Agenda? Hot Neville Agenda.

Neville is fast becoming one of my favorite characters in fic (both in reading and writing). I'm a sucker for him growing into his self-confidence after the war while still being the same loveable plant guy we know. And a forced marriage with hyper-competent Hermione? Get ready for the spice, y'all.

9. A rare pair fic: 93 Diagon Alley by Schmem_14

(Harry x George, rated M, 30k)

I'm quickly realizing that most of the fic I consume (outside of drarry) is rare pairs, but this is one of the best. Harry and George leaning on each other through their grief, and realizing what they need to get through said grief is, in fact, each other? Sign me up. I usually avoid stories that feature Fred's death as a significant plot point, but this is too well done to ignore.

10. A fest fic: Beware: Naked People Ahead by SonnenFlower

(Lots of pairings, rated M, 6.6k)

I’m recommending this fic not only because of the absolute hilarity of the premise, but because it is a part of one of the best fests I’ve ever come across — the Hermione’s Nook Naked Weasley Fest! This fic had me laughing the whole way through (and crying when I wasn’t.)

11. A dark fic: Whore by orphan_account

(Harry x Fred x George + noncon, etc, rated E, 141.6k, takes place during canon)

Listen, I don't read dark fics very often. They tend to crush my soul and spin me out. This is my "I want to hurt" fic — SO MIND THE TAGS.

12. A WIP you're following: New Blood by artemisgirl

(Pairings still evolving, rated M, currently 1.3 million words, takes place during canon)

As a general rule, I don't read many in-progress fics (this is a personal fault because I get too impatient and invested). But when I started this fic, it had over 1 million words and didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon, so I took the plunge. It features a Slytherin, overpowered, badass Hermione, deep fae/wix lore, and a unique twist on all our favorite characters!

13. A fic with over 100k words: Finding Sophrosyne by mlfoyskhione

(Drarry, rated T, 136.5k)

An eighth year fic where everyone in Hogwarts falls into an unwakeable sleep...except Draco and Harry. Absolutely delectable.

14. A favorite series: Harry Potter & Seven Years of Chaos by Severitus812

(Harry x Fred + Severitus, unrated, 1+ million words; takes place during canon)

When I started this fic, the first six parts were published and part of the seventh. I DEVOURED them in a week, and I still haven't gotten around to finishing it because I'm positive it's going to break my heart. Still, an absolute beast of a story that is so, so fun to experience!

15. The most recent fic you bookmarked: The Best Laid Plans by Drarrymadhatter

(Drarry, Draco x George, Harry x Fred, rated E, 6.6k)

Okay, I’ve bookmarked entirely too many fics since the start of this fest, so to avoid repeats, I’m recommending the last fic I bookmarked BEFORE then. Based on my url, it couldn’t be more perfect — Draco, George, Harry, AND Fred? Absolute perfection. Sexy, sexy perfection.

16. A fic that made you laugh: I WANNA SEE SOME ARSE by thefrancakes

(NottPott, rated E, 10.5k)

From the title of this fic through the end of it, I was laughing. And where I wasn’t, I was fanning myself because. Hot. Damn. I’d never shipped Harry and Theo Nott until reading this.

So many excellent fics here...and yet I'm even MORE excited about the next set of prompts! Until then!

[thevoidlookedback]

Ready, Set, Go…

What’s your favorite Hozier song? Why? No, you can’t say all of them. And don’t choose something stupid like cherry wine (there’s nothing wrong with cherry wine. Obviously. But gods man, have an actual opinion).

You are, however, perfectly welcome to list a handful in no particular order. Here, I’ll start,

Wildflower and Barley ft. Allison Russell

“(I feel as) useful as dirt, put my body to work.”

If this song does not fill you with the incredible longing to fall in love with life, and love, and dirt, you are listening to music wrong. I am sorry, you are beyond redemption.

To Noise Making (Sing)

“Your head tilt back, your funny mouth to the clouds. I couldn’t hope to know that song and all it’s words wouldn’t claim to feel the same it felt the first time it was heard.”

“Was it that or just the act of making noise that brought you joy?”

Enjoy the moment because it will not last, but rejoice in the knowledge that more are coming, as similarly meaningful and unique and impossible to duplicate to the one you are currently living!

Make music. Make bad music. Make music for the sake of exaltation. Make art because if you don’t then what is the point in living! Make art because one of the first things a child learns is to take marker to a wall, or pudding to a carpet. Make art because it is an expression of self. Make art because it is proof of life. Live.

Too Sweet

“Don’t you just want to wake up, dark as a lake? Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze?”

Get drunk with your friends and skinny dip off a pier. Ignore the rules, what are they for anyway? Find meaning in how you see it. Confront the wild beast in the woods and let it merry meet the one in you.

Those church bells in the background- Are they ringing in a wedding, or a funeral? A simple Sunday Service, or acknowledging the hour? Life goes on, always. It’s the one continuity. It never stops. So what are you doing with it?

Moment’s Silence (Common Tongue)

“A cure I know that soothes the soul, does so impossibly. A moment’s silence when my baby puts the mouth on me.”

“When the meaning’s gone, there is clarity, and the reason comes on the common tongue of your loving me. And it’s easy done, our little remedy…”

Hot.

What, I can’t like music with an…oral focus? Too low brow? The beat and flow of the music takes you on a sensual journey as much as the lyrics.

Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene by Hozier, Fiachra Kinder, and Rory Doyle

“Jarring of judgement and reasons defeat, the sweet heat of her breath in my mouth, I’m alive.”

“With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean…”

“With her straw blonde hair, her arms hard and lean, she’s the angle of death and the codeine scene.”

I’m gay. Extraordinarily queer. Do I need to elaborate? This sound sounds like a death march. It sounds like the echo in your ears as you dance yourself to death. Years passing away in the span of a single dance and you don’t care, as long as she is your partner. You can’t manage to rip your eyes off her to save your life. You won’t.

Almost (Sweet Music)

“I’m almost me again…she’s almost you.”

It was Almost Sweet Music. We were Almost something. I’m Almost able to be normal about this song. Seperated by a pair of parenthesis, kept apart and yet part of the whole.

Foreigner’s God

“Her eyes look sharp and steady into the empty parts of me. But still my heart is heavy with the hate of some other man’s beliefs.”

“I’ve no language left to say it, but all I do is quake to her. Break it if I try to convey it, the broken love I make to her.”

If you, somehow, have missed the message that Hozier’s music is incredibly political- If you have ignored Nobody’s Soldier, Eat Your Young, and oh, I don’t know, just about 70% of his discography… What do you think this song is about?

It’s also just a really fucking good song.

[joah-shipper]

Kinktober 2024

Day 1: Sex Work

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩 | 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫

________

James' POV

The shining, neon lights bounce off his muscles as he spins around the pole. I can't take my eyes off of him. It's both incredibly hot, but also impressive how he is able to do such an art.

I'm actually glad now that I agreed to come here with Eldon and West tonight. It’s been a few weeks since I broke up with my long-time boyfriend, Alfie, and I guess they noticed I wasn’t exactly doing the best about that. The less they know that most of that was due to how Alfie was as a person in general though, the better.

His eyes lock onto mine, and he gives me a once over. It’s a bit difficult to see, but I think he is smirking.

I’m proven correct on his intentions when the song ends. As, he does some form of

a bow, stuffs the pile of 1 dollar notes into his extremely short shorts, before strutting on right over to me.

“Hey there.” I can hear him easy enough over the music, mostly because his lips are right near my ear. “Noticed you liked my dance. Good that I’m finally getting a decent looking guy here tonight.”

Eldon and West are looking at the two of us now, so I twitch my head to the side to signal for them to go. I’m roll my eyes when they both give me a thumbs up and head back over to the bar.

“Yeah well. You sure have a talent of showing those other guys what they desperately want but can’t have.” His breaths of laughter hit my skin as my fingers reach his large ass, squeezing it.

“Mm, you like that?” I slightly moan as he slowly grinds his crotch into mine, the friction from me wearing jeans making it painful and he more flared up.

“I’d like it a lot more if I was behind you and had you leaned against a wall as I ploughed this fat ass.” This time I slap his cheeks, and he moans himself.

“Fuck! Follow me then.”

~~~

He’s lead me to one of the rooms they have especially for this kind of situation. Though, Hunter (as he has now told me his name) informed me that most people pay to do this. That seems fucked up to me though. It’s one thing to do so for a stripper dance, but paying someone to have sex with you is a whole ‘nother.

On all fours, he’s ready for me on this queen-sized bed, how this place is able to afford one of these for each room, I don’t know. That massive ass of his is up and out, cheeks spread. I rub the tip of my cock between them, teasing his already lubed-up and fingered entrance.

Then, I go right in.

His toes curl into the sheets as all of length sinks deep inside him. His thick butt feels so good around it. Haven’t had many guys like this before. Especially since Alfie always topped.

“Ah fuck! That’s big! I’ve had a lot of guys do this but…fuck…”

His cheeks clap as I begin to thrust, gripping onto his wide hips, noises covered over by the bed squeaking.

“Yeah, you like that? Like having this huge cock rail this sexy ass?!” I spank him again, leaving a red hand-print. Hunter moans/gasps loudly in response.

We keep going for what feels like we’ll over an hour. Eventually our lips come together, noises travelling from our own mouth to the other’s. My bottom lip is definitely gonna be a bit cut after. Though that is partially my fault.

“Fuck fuck fuck! Yes! Right there! Right there! Holy fucking-ah!”

With one last thrust, he shoots all over the sheets. I’m not long after. Pulling out of him, I take the condom off and rapidly jerk myself off. Soon enough, I’m finishing all over his broad back.

I slump over after, face near his gaping hole. Hunter turns around to show me that smirk, just like before.

“I’d ask if that was what you needed to get over that slump I saw you in when you first came in here. But, I’m pretty sure I already have my answer.”

[gardeningforfun0714]

Hi everyone,

For those that may not recognize my username, I’m Maisy. My main blog is @mabrego0714 I’m an artist and often post Star Wars art (along with other fandoms). I also have a writing blog @writingforfun0714 where I write fanfics (I’m not a writer and just do that for fun).

Now I’d like to start a gardening blog where I basically just journal what I have, what I use for my plants, harvests, and maybe even share some garden/plant art as well.

I AM A NOVICE/BEGINNER. I’m still learning and am definitely open to any tips, tricks, and/or hacks to any of my plants but full on hate/condescension/general assholery will not be tolerated because I want this to be a safe space for everyone including:

—disabled/nd folks

—minors

—other beginner gardeners

—literally anyone interested in gardening

So here’s some info about my garden/area.

USA: Zone 9 (a)

Normal climate on an avg day: warm to hot/dry/arid with few days of rain though we’ve gotten more rain than normal this year. Can get windy. I do get hurricane and tornado warnings during those respective seasons.

Soil in my area is incredibly rocky and clay-like so my garden is split into 2 parts: direct-sow and container garden. Also I’ve had plants that require full sun in my yard die due to the intense heat of summer and fall. So that means some full sun plants might need protection and/or partial sun in my area.

Both gardens get sun but direct-sow garden is full sun. Potted plants get morning sun along with partial afternoon shade thanks to my house.

Now for the fun, listing what I already have and the status of them as of this post 6/4/24:

Container garden:

Apple tree—new tree/adding new growth and is currently ~7-8ft tall.

Peach tree—new tree/ has 4 small golf ball sized peaches and is currently ~6-7ft tall.

Olive tree—new tree/new growth and is ~4.5ft tall.

Fig tree/bush?—small but new growth.

Blueberries—I have 4 blueberry plants that range from a small fruiting bush to plants that are recovering from a fungal infection. I originally got 3 of them when they were packed in clay soil and developed blueberry blight (they were on clearance) and thought I could save them despite no knowledge of gardening/taking care of any kind of plant. I got some organic fungicide and changed the soil, adding in organic soil acidifier. They are currently recovering and adding new growth which I’m extremely proud of cuz I thought they would all die—which led me to buying the 4th one just in case the others didn’t make it. I’ll make a whole post about them later.

Raspberries—new plants with small buds growing. Currently ~2ft-3ft tall. I have 2 for pollination.

Blackberries—thorny vine producing fruit. I also have a thornless variety that is a small plant with new growth on it.

Elderberries—small bush that hasn’t flowered despite it being 2yrs old. Maybe it needs a pollinator?

Potatoes—I have 2 5gal buckets of potatoes. One has the plants yellowing/dying off and almost ready to harvest while the other bucket still has new growth.

Tomatoes—Lots of varieties that range from seedling, new growth to producing. Will make a tomato post as well.

Carrots—new growth and all carrots have their secondary leaves.

Onions—Chives specifically, rather small but still green and healthy.

Peppers—seedlings (we grew all our peppers from seed this year which takes longer and my dad and I started a bit late).

Chile pequin—established, flowering and producing small bush. Native plant in my area.

Green beans—producing

Cucumbers—flowering, about to produce

Native wildflowers—just past seedling, also doing great since I planted these way too late.

Daisies—seedlings

Radishes—They were doing well but we had high winds recently that wrecked them so I’m hoping they’ll come back.

Grapes—1 small 4ft vine from an online nursery and 2 fruiting vines about 6ft-7ft tall from Lowes. All green grapes.

Direct-sow/Ground Garden:

Corn—new growth, ~2ft tall with 1-inch thick stalks.

Tomatoes—Lemon boy hybrid, Super Sweet 100 hybrid, that are both flowering.

Pole beans—producing

Yellow Lantana—FLOWER. it migrated and exploded in my direct-sow garden. Doing great.

Melon patch—Mostly watermelon with cantaloupe. Everything is doing incredibly well and the watermelon have started to vine. I’ve got classic red sugar baby watermelon along with orange watermelon and yellow golden honey watermelon. Different color watermelon is common where I’m at. Will make a separate post for my melon patch too.

Exotic/Tropical/Cacti and Succulents/Unusual: I believe zones 9+ can grow lots of tropical fruit (but not all)

Pineapples—grown from tops. New growth but no flowers. All 3 are in a clay pot.

Pink Lemonade Blueberries—small plant with new growth. No flowers. Bought from online nursery early May ‘24.

Golden Raspberries—small plant with new growth. No flowers. Bought from online nursery early May ‘24. I have 2 for pollination.

Papaya—new tree with new growth but no flowers. ~3ft tall. I have 2 for pollination.

Pink Guava—new tree with new growth but no flowers. ~3ft tall. I have 2 for pollination.

I believe that’s it. So I think that’s all the important stuff I’ll include for my intro post but feel free to message me if you have a question or just wanna talk about gardening🌱🌿💚

Have a pic of one of the big grape vines I have. For reference it’s taller than me (I’m 5’3”). I will make posts about each plant this summer so get ready for that. If anyone has something they wanna see from the list, lemme know💚

Below the cut is a bit about me, how I got into gardening, why I’m doing it now, what I hope to achieve and future plans for my garden. Thanks to those that like/reblog this and it’s never too late to plant. Happy gardening🥰

I was lucky enough to grow up with a garden during my early childhood years thanks to my dad. My dad had me late in life (he was 45) and he grew up around his farmer grandparents, and his green-thumbed mother who could make anything grow but mostly grew flowers in her garden. Our garden wasn’t much but it produced a lot. It consisted of cherry tomatoes, green beans, cucumbers and corn, at least at first. Then my dad added sunflowers, melons, and peppers. It was great and I loved going out with my dad and helping him. Sadly life got in the way when I was 7 and I experienced a lot of trauma. My parents divorced and that was the end of the garden because my mom had no time or interest in the upkeep of the garden. I had tried myself but things started to die one by one.

Years and years would pass that I wouldn’t even consider gardening. I was too busy with trauma/family/school etc to focus on gardening. It wasn’t until I graduated high school that I really started to think seriously about gardening to produce food to survive. In college I started to research gardening in my spare time (being an artist, I was in school for animation and illustration) and after dropping out, I decided to pursue gardening as a way to get up and outside especially with the pandemic.

I think around the time of the pandemic, I started researching different kinds of gardens and fell in love with the idea of a food forest. I told my dad about my new interest in gardening and I think that also inspired him to also get back into it as well and now it’s our shared activity we do.

I’d love to eventually get a large enough harvest to share with friends and family and I will definitely be expanding my garden this year as well. There was lots of construction last year in my neighborhood which drove all the pests and insects towards my garden and discouraged me so lots of my plants (all the trees/most of the berries) I bought this year are new and I haven’t grown 95% of what I have now so I’m super excited.

[ayliamc]

Italia

Day 9 - Comedy of Errors

Steps walked: 26,411

Flights climbed: 15

Vehicles ridden: 2

Points of interest visited: I don’t even know anymore.

Ancient things spotted: too many

Too much of a good thing. All good things. Pick your favorite aphorism. Today was a bust.

The disappointment started when we woke up before sunrise to pop down to the Ponte Vecchio (just downstairs) to see the sunrise. Yesterday would have been a perfect day. Instead today was totally overcast so we got a Timelapse of a whole bunch o’ nothin’, and a few pictures on the bridge before it swarmed with people.

It pained me to leave Firenze. Especially as the walk to the train station took place before people had woken, when the streets were mostly empty, just how I like it. I didn’t want to tear my eyes away from the past, from Leonardo’s world, the wellspring of the art mouth. But alas.

We made it early to the train station to find our train delayed. It gave Dan enough time to find us vegan croissants for the ride. I’m counting this as a win. Another win: our seats were not next to each other. BUT. We gambled and sat together and no one came to us angrily demanding we move. Another win. The journey into Roma was uneventful. We arrived and made the exhausting journey with luggage in tow to our stay, about a twenty minute walk from the train station.

The apartment wasn’t ready for us, but they let us drop our luggage off, able to return after 3. Our first stop was the crypt of the Capuchin Monks. When Dan first told me about the crypts decorated with the capuchin bones, my mind immediately went to the monkeys and I thought, “Those poor monkeys!” To which Dan responded “I’m sure they had their consent,” referring of course to the monks. The confusion comes from the fact that there are both monkeys AND monks called Capuchin. The monks were named first. We didn’t get to see the catacombs when we were in Paris so I was all for seeing some bones. Welp. Right off the bat they took our money and told me I couldn’t have bare shoulders. I had nothing to cover my shoulders on me because it was a hot and sunny afternoon. They charged me a euro for a paper gown to cover up. This is a loss. And put me in a real sour mood. As you can see.

Especially considering the first thing we saw was a mutilated tortured body on a crucifix. But my shoulders are too inappropriate. They talk about it being a holy place and I can hear anyone arguing in their favor that it’s a way to be respectful blah blah blah. My being respectful is paying admission to learn about your culture without shouting “everything you believe is a lie!” Bare shoulders and bare knees being covered isn’t a sign of respect. It’s a sign of control.

They also make you walk thru a museum before you get to the cool stuff, and give you some audio guide which I bailed on immediately because it was some insufferable two-person-play about who gives a shit. Not me. Which is why I bailed. The museum also wasn’t interesting. It was a lot of religious artefacts that weren’t by any artists I’m interested in. So we sort of walked quickly thru to get to the crypts. Of course they take away the most important part of visiting a cool place: taking pictures. If you have no pictures, did it even happen? If you have no pictures, were you even there?

Yes, we were there.

We left in record time and decided to get lunch to stave off any more potential grumpiness. There was a vegan restaurant super close to the next thing we wanted to visit, the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa.

Vegan restaurant had no openings for people sans reservations. Another loss. Followed by a little win! Twenty paces back we had passed by a vegetarian Indian restaurant so we grabbed lunch there after some difficulty in deciphering the Italian/hindi menu. A little spicy but pretty good.

Then we looked up the super nearby Ecstasy, available to view for free at the Santa Maria della Vittoria… closed. Opens at 3:30. Hours away. Another loss. We toyed with killing time since we were so close to the church and so so tired of walking, and we meandered thru a nearby park and sat down but ultimately decided to head back to the room. We tried taking a route past both the Villa Medici and the Keats-Shelley house, two nearby buildings that had housed — you guessed it — the Medicis and the poet Keats (but not either of the Shelleys though I’m sure they all spent plenty of time there, and apparently Mary’s desk is there. You know, the one in which she kept Percy’s calcified heart?) but we didn’t even and instead trudged back to the room. ‘Twas literally a trudge. We were both so tired, our feet and legs hurting. We have logged like three marathons worth of miles in the last week. We are feeling it.

We tried three times to pick up a few groceries — namely bread — for breakfast and long story short we were unsuccessful. The slightly longer version involves bread that was behind an unmanned counter that I fetched [against the rules] and subsequently tried to pay for being snatched out of my hand and angrily thrown away while a woman yelled at me in Italian.

Empty handed, we collapsed on the bed at our apartment and took an angry nap while I obsessed over the unpleasant interaction with that woman, even in sleep. (I have a condition. In which I obsess. I was born this way.)

Dan made me a cup of tea and he had a cup of coffee as we braced ourselves to try to salvage the day. We had reservations for a vegan restaurant that has cats, the Romeow Cat Bistrot. It was high on my list in Roma but regrettably far from our accommodations. (An hour walk!) So we found a few points of interest semi-along the way and headed out, our legs and feet only mildly rested.

First stop: the Mouth of Truth. Closed for the night.

Second stop: Circus Maximus. Closed. For an event next weekend.

Third stop: Aventine Hill. Dark. The sun has set. Shitty views of the city. There’s a keyhole that you can look thru for a great view. The line was about a hundred people deep and moving slowly. But because everything else we had planned to see was closed, we got in line to kill time and maybe get a good view after all, even if it was dark. Dan grabbed a beer while we waited, I waved away a bunch of cigarette smoke from the people in line ahead of us, we moved up about 50 spaces in half an hour, and then decided to bail. We had enough time to get to the cat bistrot in time for the reservations we had to make two weeks ago, and there was no chance of getting to the keyhole in time. Another bust.

A quick aside here to address the things we’ve encountered during our numerous walks thru Roma:

- These drivers are the craziest drivers in all of Italia. We haven’t gotten hit, but it is a true battle of wills. Who wants to go more? You? Or the driver? Or that other driver? Let’s find out and godspeed.

- Firenze felt like an old city. This feels like a modern city filled with old shit. Everywhere you look: ruins. What the hell is that ruin? Don’t know. It’s clearly not that important. It’s not even on Google maps.

- Seriously with the ruins tho. Our host in Venezia excitedly told us about an old wall, “the first wall” I dunno what he said, right next to the train station. Sure enough there it was. No signs, nothing. Barely even worth looking at. Dan felt mildly obligated because our Venetian host was so nice but I was too tired to take the few steps in that direction. No regrets. We’ve walked by like a hundred other 2,000 year old things that are just by the side of the road. Or two hundred buildings that are 1,000 years old with AC window units, clearly apartments now. Anyway it’s like… enough.

We made it to Romeow before they opened at 8, which was also the time for our reservation, and joined the small, growing crowd of people waiting to be let in. There’s been a lot of joking about how Roma is ruined after the day we’ve had, much to Dan’s particular chagrin as he not only has such fond memories of visiting this city in the past, but I had no initial interest in coming here so the pressure is on. So it was easy to joke about walking home without dinner and call the whole day a wash when they were ten minutes late to let us in. But we could see some sleepy cats in the window. They let us in two at a time thru a two-door system to prevent any critters from escaping, and we were seated upstairs. Only one cat joined us on the second level; a little black rascal who played a little bit but otherwise stretched out luxuriously on one of the many cat lounge areas set up. They have a strict “no flash” policy and seem to care a lot about the welfare of the cats. Lots of toys, perches, and escapes from unwanted attention. Booklets on every table reminding patrons not to pick up the cats or wake them and to let the cats set the tone of any interactions.

The cats all seemed super chill. I wish they’d come over to us, tho. We got to pet two of them. A black one and a white one. Both friendly but mostly uninterested. The food was good.

I managed to convince Dan to take the metro home because it was such a straightforward journey. We even managed to snag a baguette on the way! But we did get yelled at about a tomato and she wouldn’t let us buy it because we hadn’t weighed it. What the hell, Roma? It shouldn’t be this hard to buy groceries. Anyway, the metro was easy and fast — once we got the tickets, which was as complicated and frustrating as Italia’s track record might suggest. But it worked out. We made it home after breaking our daily step count record and I even killed a mosquito before bed.

Let’s see what tomorrow brings.

[nickgerlich]

Doing A 360.

A couple of years ago, we went to one of those traveling Van Gogh immersive experiences. It was a little pricey, but it was fun. I thoroughly enjoyed being surrounded by floor-to-ceiling video. It allowed me to enjoy Van Gogh’s works in a way that books and reproductions in art galleries could ever begin to accomplish.

But what if we could harness some of this presentation style and use it to sell things? A year ago, TIME Magazine said that such augmented reality (AR) is the future of online shopping. And this year, Target is doubling down on it, at least when it comes to toy shopping.

As a side note, Toys ‘R Us, take note. Target is doing something you cannot do in an airport or on a cruise ship, or even inside a Macy’s boutique shop. Their new 360-degree immersive online shopping experience is top-shelf, and stands head and shoulders above everything that Toys ‘R Us and all the other toy retailers can offer.

I took it for a test drive, and all I can say is this: If I were a kid, I’d be busy writing my Wish List right about now. Oh, and sharing the link with Mom and Dad. It’s that cool.

Target is also trying to make bank this holiday season with a slew of toys at $25 or less, in response to inflation concerns and a tight economy. Make it cool, make it cheap, and wait for the shopping carts—virtual and IRL—to fill up. All this comes at a time when analysts are predicting record online discounts this shopping season.

And the rationale for an online sales pitch is compelling, because only three-percent of children 18 and under do not have internet access, either via a computer (93%) or smartphone (4%). Mom and Dad don’t have to take them shopping these days, because they can do it all at home, and hopefully without a POS (Parent Over Shoulder) to monitor.

The timing is also just as expected, because Target announced not long ago it would be launching its Christmas campaign the first week of October. They did not disappoint.

Immersive shopping allows for maximum interactivity in a virtual space. “Hot spots” on the screen are clickable, which spawn a pop-up to the side with full product details. Users can easily spend significant amounts of time on the site, which, of course, is the whole idea. In the land where engagement is king, Target is poised to become royalty.

Target’s offerings once again feature collaborations with long-time toy seller FAO Schwarz. These items are available only at Target. Other exclusives include the Disney100 Retro Reimagined Collection. I’m betting these will all be hot items this season. Anything to make your site a destination is shrewd.

And including entertainment in the online arena is just smart marketing, especially at a time when all the big retailers have websites. For kids and anyone else stuck in Short Attention Span Theatre, this is golden. Heck, I bet there might even be parents who are toy collectors perusing the site.

Because there’s a kid locked up inside everyone of us adult folks. Shopping at Target online this year may not be quite as much fun as the Van Gogh event, but it’s a nice alternative to otherwise mundane online shopping. I’m ready to take the plunge.

Dr “Full Immersion” Gerlich

Audio Blog