#individualism isn’t what y’all think it is!!
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The tags are amazing in general but
@unfriendlyblackwitch “have you heard of any country ever before” is sending me
Also shout out to all the people having to discover all their local ~organizers~ think it’s okay to call people into spaces w no masks during a pandemic, that shit sucks so hard I specifically experienced it when I was working w a group that was for MARGINALIZED PEOPLE like disabled, queer POGM.
No words.
Unpopular opinion but a LOT of y'all actually LOVE the government you love having a Big Daddy that you can just wait on to solve your problems
every single time anyone says anything about any individual action someone can do to make a small yet meaningful difference y'all run to 'but the billionares/govt won't do x y z' so you can just sit on your hands and be absolved of mattering at ALL
I see this in other spaces too like there are LOADS of women who don't want to do personal work irt how they relate to self/others and deconstruction of their ideas around gender bc 'but the men aren't doing their work' (which is ironic bc a lot of men say the SAME thing ie "I can't improve as a person bc women aren't acting right")
like y'all are disgustingly passive and actually really in love with having a convenient Big Bad Guy in your life so you can justify making absolutely 0 effort even if it was just in your personal sphere
spineless, apathetic behavior.
meanwhile y'all sit here and ask dumb questions into the void like "when's the revolution" LMAO get real.
#like oh boo the government wants us dead#mkay well so do you bc you invited a bunch of mentally ill queers to a closed room w no masks#individualism isn’t what y’all think it is!!
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i just think it would be cool to see multigender people represented in discussions of gender politics more frequently, which is to say more than never.
the same goes for discussions of art, sexuality, the trans experience, the nonbinary experience more specifically, representation in media, so on & so forth. i just think it would be cool if the community didn’t treat us like a phase or non-entity.
#like y’all hate us. you either don’t talk about us or make fun of us or just outright treat us like the lite version of whatever gender you#find most convenient irregardless of fucking context.#i saw another post abt trans rep in art that i don’t want to derail#but then i was thinking abt that but multigender & realized we’re just… never there.#like even when nonbinary people are represented it’s those leaning genderless- which isn’t to say that group should have less that’s not#what i mean this isn’t an rep instead situation- it’s just very unbalanced.#& like it goes to the fact that due to internalized transphobia & cissexism y’all are very uncomfortable with men who are also women.#we’re never discussed in gender politics or in discussions regarding trans experience or sexuality etc like.#& it shows that we don’t even get the bare-minimum positivity art posts from our community.#i am once again thinking about the unbridled wildly undiscussed vitrol the lgbt community has for multigender individuals. gonna stop#before i get incomprehensibly angry actually. tldr do better for your multigender fellows you fuckers.#trans#transgender#lgbt#lgbt+#queer#genderqueer#nonbinary#multigender#bigender#polygender#neogender#xenogender#pride month
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I think the people who come onto my posts and ask “well how would you know if you’re visibly autistic” just…don’t get it. Because truly, how do you think we’d know? Surely it’s not the stares, or the looks to our caregivers, or the comments, or the verbal and sometimes even physical altercations/fights, or the isolation, or the segregation, or the baby talking, or the being underestimated, or being put in ABA, or being put in special education/contained classrooms. It surely can’t be that. Right? /sarcasm
I don’t think people REALLY read my posts. They get defensive. Think I’m screaming in their faces about how they’re not autistic enough because they don’t experience the same discrimination as a higher support needs, caregiver dependent, nonverbal/nonspeaking/semispeaking individuals. Because no, that’s totally what I’m doing. /sarcasm.
Discrimination is discrimination. But that doesn’t mean that the discrimination is going to be the same.
I’m totally screaming in your face, telling you you’re not autistic enough, that everyone should experience the discrimination and “horrors” of being higher support needs. That’s totally what I’m doing /sarcasm.
If you’re visibly autistic, it’s not a matter of asking yourself “well how do I know?” Because you don’t ask yourself that. You ALREADY know. It’s been something that’s so integrated into your mind that you’re reminded about it Every. Single. Fucking. Day. Because? You make your parents life difficult. You give your caregiver fatigue. You go hungry because no one has fed you because you can’t cook, or only can cook very basic things. You are constantly under and overstimulated, so you have violent meltdowns that ruin relationships, friendships, etc. You can’t get out of bed without help or prompts, so you just stay in bed all day. Mindlessly watching movies and scrolling social media.
You go outside, have to wear headphones or ear defenders, sunglasses, have chewlery, have to carry a AAC device and a bag with everything you could possibly need to help you from not having a meltdown, you see the stares. The way they look at you as you flap your hands, and laugh inappropriately, and rock, and skip, and run, and walk “weird” and drool, and mouth breathe, and put your fingers in your mouth, etc. and you see it on peoples faces. The way they cross the sidewalk, the way they lower their gaze, the way they do anything to get away from YOU.
There is a difference between being higher support needs and low to medium masking, so every trait is more intense, and being low support needs, high masking but looking a little “odd” or “off putting.” This isn’t an attack on anyone, but there are differences, and I’m tired of acting like people who aren’t higher support needs know what I go through.
This is my reality. This is what being visibly autistic is like. And I hope y’all realize that, cause it ain’t fun.
#zebrambles#autism#actually autism#actually autistic#higher suppport needs#nonverbal#nonspeaking#visibly autistic#visible autism#aac user#kinda a vent#long post
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Peachy
Summary: How everyone was shocked for an individual that hate PDA like Bakugou start to kiss your head more than he used to.
Pair: Bakugou x Reader
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: Nothing? Bakugou is very tame in here
A/N: Hello it’s been 999+ years since I last post something. To be frankly honest… college is a no joke not to mention I’m close to my last year right now… I can feel my sanity and braincells are decreasing with the amount of papers and journals I have to write… but oh well now I am kinda back? maybe not but who knows :) hope y’all enjoy my post and have a great day!
Wc: 1,4k
Weekend is finally come, and you cannot help but decided to wake up a little bit later than usual. Of course your wish is only a wish because a certain someone decided to knocked on your door and wake you up from your deep slumber.
You groggily walk to the door to find out who dare to disturb you from your very needed sleep. And there they are. A pink girl with black eyes and A girl with violet hair staring at you.
“What do you want?” you asked her. Mina just shrugged off your grumpiness as she walked inside your room and start to rummage through your wardrobes. Meanwhile Jirou gave you a quiet morning as she took a seat on your study desk.
“Girl, it’s 10 in the morning, and today is weekend so why don’t we spent some times together at the mall?” you groaned as you flop down to your bed face first.
“Also you told us to remind you that you run out some of your bath necessities and you want to restock them on weekend. So pull your ass up and start to get ready.” You let out inaudible grumble as you roll your body to flop on the floor.
“Fine.” You let out a huff as you grab your towel and the outfit Mina already picked for you.
“God… I really did run out of shampoo…” you sighed as you toss the empty bottle of shampoo to the trash bin.
.
.
.
You walk to the living room with Mina and Jirou after you finish taking a bath. And see a bunch of your friends lazing around. Your eyes quickly find the pair of red vermilion eyes that you love so much.
“Good morning.” You chirp as you stand in front of Bakugou. Bakugou grunt as his eyes move from Kirishima and Kaminari to you. He took a second to observe your outfit before answering.
“Mornin’ do you have somewhere to go?” he finally stand up from his seat. You nod your head as you hum.
“Yep. Mina, Jirou and I gonna go to the mall, you know… girl’s time. And at the same time I’m gonna buy some groceries because I ran out a bunch of stuff. so… do you want me to pick up something for you?” You lean your head deeper as Bakugou cup your cheeks with his callouses hands.
“Some spices. And just want you to be safe. That’s all.” You smile as you nod your head. Believing that Bakugou will send his groceries list later.
“Okay lovebirds come on we need to catch the train.” Mina decided to rip you apart from Bakugou. Receiving an annoyed grunt from the blonde. You only let out a small chuckle and wave at your boyfriend before left the dorm.
After you, Mina, and Jirou catch the train, the three of you manage to get a seat on a somehow not so crowded train despite it is a weekend. The three of you decided to discuss what to do at the mall other than shopping some groceries.
“What shampoo you plan to try? Didn’t you said you want to try a new scent for your shampoo?” Mina asked as she peeked your phone where you are busy looking for some shampoo testimony on the internet.
“Hmm… I don’t really know yet, but I do want to try peach scented shampoo… apparently according to the internet, peaches scented stuff are a bit popular these days.” You answer the alien girl while your eyes still planted on the LED screen on you hand.
“Oh but isn’t Bakugou did not fond for sweet scented stuff?” Jirou suddenly popped a question that make you think for a while. Shortly after you just shrug your shoulders.
“Well I don’t think peaches scented shampoo will have a dominant sweet scent. But even if it did, it’s gonna be ‘Suki’s problem, not mine.” Your answer made Mina laugh.
After a couple hours of walking and looking around the mall, Jirou, Mina, and you decided to go back home. While sit in the train you cannot help but keep looking at the new shampoo scent you just bought.
Anxieties and questions of what ifs start flooding your brain that makes you spiral down. Drowned enough you didn’t hear Mina practically scream at your ears. Your body jolted up when you feel Jirou’s ear jacks poke your cheek.
“Girl, are you really start regretting to buy that shampoo now? After we are one hour away from the mall?” Mina asked as she put her hand on one of her hips. You stare at her for a couple of seconds before let out a sigh of defeat and nodded your head.
“Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure he will like it.” Jirou pats your shoulder softly in attempt to comfort you.
.
.
.
“We are back!” Mina screamed as she kicked the door open with hands full of groceries just like you and Jirou. Izuku and Ochako quickly help the three of you to put down the groceries in the kitchen.
“Did you get my groceries list?” Bakugou asked as he walk in with towel hang on his neck. You spin your body to see him before nodded your head.
“Yep I got all of them just alright!” you smile as you circle your arms around his slim waist. Bakugou give you an approval nod before he started to take out the groceries from its bag with you still latching to him like a koala.
“Peach scented shampoo?” Bakugou look at you confusedly since usually you pick the floral scented shampoo. You just shrugged a bit before lean on his broad shoulder.
“Just want to try something new that’s all.” You said. Bakugou stared at it for another seconds before put it away for you to take back to your room.
.
.
.
“Hmm it does smell nice…” you mutter to yourself as you dry your hair with a hairdryer after you finish taking a bath. You hum to yourself while putting some casual clothes you usually wear in dorm. Suddenly you hear a knock on your door. You quickly run to the door to welcome the person who knock on your door.
Surprised but not surprised it’s your boyfriend who knocked on your door. Waiting for you to open the door. You throw each other a confused stare before he let a short huff.
“Dinner is ready.” You let out an understanding hum before you step out from your room and walk to the elevator with him. You both wait in silence as the elevator went up. Bakugou suddenly smell something unfamiliar coming from you but he decided to ignore it. Not until both of you step inside the elevator.
“Did you put on parfume?” Bakugou suddenly asked. You look at him confusedly before you decided to sniff around.
“Oh, you mean my new shampoo? Does it smell good?” you asked a bit hopefully. He stared at you for a second before leaning closer to you. His warm palm carefully grabbed some strands of your hair before softly kiss it. It would be a lie if you didn’t feel your heart skipped a beat when he did it.
Suddenly the elevator door opened. You immediately pull Bakugou out while he still busy inhaling your new scent. You even have to purposely pull yourself apart from him to be able to walk to the dining room.
“Suki, people are staring.” You said under your breath. It only cause Bakugou to pull you closer and plant his face to the crook of your neck as you both sit down.
“You smell so good.” He said.
“Damn girl, what spell did you cast on him?” Kaminari teased while wiggling his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes jokingly while still try to pull your lover from you.
“Okay explosion man, you need to eat.” Your stern words make Bakugou finally pull himself away and huffed like a child.
“Fine. But I want a cuddle.” He said with a bold tone. Your cheeks immediately flushed brightly as you can see from your peripheral vision your friends giggling and wiggling their eyebrows to you.
“Fine. Just eat will you?” you shoved a spoonful of food to his mouth before you start to eat your own food. The said man just smirk before he started to put insane amount of spice to his food and eat it. Of course he did not forget to secretly putting his warm palm on your thigh.
#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#bakugou katuski x reader#katsuki bakugou#katsuki x reader#bakugou fluff#katsuki bakugo my hero academia
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Perchance… could I request the bg3 companions with a Tav who has a bleeding heart? They’ll do what they need to do, kill who they need to, etc. but they still are easily tricked by just basic human kindness and often feel guilty for killing folk and whatnot. They’re ridiculously caring towards the party as well, often putting their needs above their own.
Karlach
Karlach gets it. She really does. But she’s been through (literal) Hell and has learned to be a bit more cautious
But she adores how much you love and trust people
I almost see her as someone who would go behind after you to set people straight if they conned you or anything like that
Something about it is so heartwarming ;) to Karlach, watching you take care of everyone - herself included. She wants you to look after her forever while she does the same for you
Shadowheart
almost disgusted by your altruism, in the beginning. She sees no point in it and points it out readily to you
Deep down though, even in the beginning, she likes it and almost envies you for it. She feels bad for speaking down to you especially after she’s had time by your side
Shadowheart enjoys being doted on and care for. She enjoys that you treat your friends like family and that you’re all carving out a little place for y’all
She’ll pout if you’re fussing over someone more than her, though she tries to deny it
Lae’zel
Similarly to Shadowheart, I think at first Lae’zel would find your actions unnecessary and dragging. She’s on a time crunch and knows where she needs to go, and helping all these people isn’t helping y’all
I’m not sure Lae’zel would ever truly warm up to being so willing to lend a helping hand. But I think she would appreciate and commend (and come to respect) you for being able to care so deeply for others (she’s not so certain she’s capable of that magnitude)
Forces you to take care of yourself and won’t hear shit about it; no she didn’t cook this meal just for you to ignore it bc Shadowheart needs to traumadump some more, eat you doofus
Gale
Gale finds it endearing, if a little worrisome. He’s happy to let you fawn over your camp mates but he’s draws the line at being so easily swayed by strangers
He tries to be diplomatic when he’s urging you away from suspicious individuals bc he really doesn’t want to hurt your feelings or make you feel like you need to change, he’s just trying to protect you to his best ability
Gale’s not particularly used to being doted on, but it’s almost…relieving, in a way. Refreshing?
He does work very hard to make sure you’re taken care of as well, cooking good meals and forcing coercing you to bed at a reasonable time
Wyll
heart eyes
Wyll himself sees (or wants to see) the world through rose colored glasses so he’s enamored that you do
He’s also probably one of the only ones to really understand your guilt over killing, even when necessary. He’s happy to talk you through your emotions over it and never hesitates to reassure you that you’re doing the right thing
flusters when your attention turns to him, but doubles it back in repayment to you
Astarion
Astarion seethes at first. He hates your tender-heartedness, hates how kind and soft you are, how loving you are with everyone, it’s just grinds against him
As he sorts through his trauma (and comes to appreciate your care, towards him and your friends at least) he stops whining about it…as much
He will absolutely shut someone down if they’re trying to use, manipulate, or fool you. Astarion only refrains from more…permanent silencing solutions because he knows you wouldn’t like it
He does, however, preen under your attention. True, no-strings-attached care? It takes him a long time to comfortable with it but he cherishes it
Halsin
While he certainly adores your tenderness, he tries to caution you over being too willing to blindly believe someone
Halsin is happy to comfort you through any remorse or guilt of course, but is quick to remind you that this is simply the way the world works
Watching you take care of your little band of misfits makes him melt. You care for them and then he cares for you when you come to him at the end of the day
Halsin would carry your burdens for you if he could, instead he’ll travel by your side and help you help others (while giving you looks that make you swoon let’s be real)
#astarion x reader#wyll x reader#halsin x reader#gale x reader#shadowheart x reader#karlach x reader#lae’zel x reader#baldurs gate 3 x reader#bg3 x reader
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MAFIA AU! TASK FORCE 141 x MOB BOSS GF! READER
( master list )
Continuation of this
Do y’all want individual oneshots of how you met each of them?
Notes: reader has piercings (ear lobes and navel piercing + gets a tongue piercing), reader has tattoos (tramp stamp + shoulder)
Princess treatment… only the best for their sweetheart.
- There’s nothing these four men won’t do for you. Oh, you want more clothes? Price is already contacting a high-end boutique. You’re favourite YSL heels broke? No worries, Kyle has a back-up pair. You want a tongue piercing to match your navel one? Jonny is already making the appointment. You want a specific type of lobster that’s only found in a foreign country? Simon somehow has it on hand.
- The day you decided to get tattoos is the day Simon stopped functioning. He had his fair share of ink plastered on his skin but he can never look away from that damn tramp stamp on your lower back. It’s hard to concentrate when you stretch and your shirt rides up, giving him a clear view of the taunting tattoo
- It’s no secret that everybody is jealous of your relationship with your boys and vice versa. You’ve seen women eyeing your lovers, attracted to their muscles and tall height
- Trips to the mall are your favourite thing in life. They always have been. It gets better when your lovers start accompanying you. You’re on the phone, rattling to your friend about her unhealthy relationship with her boyfriend
“I don’t see the appeal in him anymore, Miae. I mean, he’s like, a total jerk.” You pause to take a sip from your iced tea, “He doesn’t even treat you with respect. That’s like, the first rule of being a boyfriend! On top of that, his cologne reeks. I literally drown in it every time I’m near him!”
- You best believe your boyfriends are trailing behind you, secretly listening to the conversation and agreeing that Miae should breakup with whoever this guy was
- You’re carrying multiple shopping bags as you stride forward, people subconsciously making a path for you. You look a spoiled heiress with four large bodyguards towering over everybody
- Price, Kyle, and Simon aren’t usually interested in gossip but when they hear about your gossip nights with Jonny, they have to join. They end up listening to you rant about a rather sticky situation your friend is in and when they see you next, they always ask for updates
- Online shopping is a must. What kind of girl would you be if you weren’t debating whether to buy that skirt or not?
- Your apartment has always been… messy. You never find the motivation to clean it and even if you do, you get overwhelmed quickly. Gaz intervenes most of the time, cleaning it for you. He cooks too. And bakes. Anything to see a pretty smile on your face
- Of course, Price bought you the apartment. It was the best (and biggest) one for sale
- All four men have a soft spot for you, doing things they usually wouldn’t just to hear your laugh. And they are the masters of cheering you up when you’re on your period
- If anyone dares flirt with you, it’s over for them. It’s an unspoken rule within the city that you belong to the TF 141 mafia
- The four men love seeing you dolled up. Most of the time, you’re wearing items they’ve bought you. You treat the Dior bag Simon gifted you like a damn puppy
- You are their whole world and you know what they say; ‘happy wife, happy life’. Sure, you aren’t married yet but it’s bound to happen soon. Your friend swore they spotted Price and Simon looking at rings
- Anything you want, you get, which includes new nails. Price adores paying for your nail appointments. The sight of you staring down at your decorative nails in awe when you think he isn’t watching is adorable
- Johnny isn’t so innocent. Yeah, the nails look good but they feel even better being raked down his back
- Kyle is the one surprising you with flowers. You once returned to your apartment only to find it overtaken by nature. He even leaves cute little notes in hidden spots
- Simon is… Simon. He’s not doing outwardly romantic gestures, choosing to keep it behind closed doors. His way of showing his love to you in public is keeping you close, a strong arm wrapped around your waist. Sometimes he lets you sit on his lap, his leg bouncing as a way to preoccupy himself while you scroll through celebrity drama
- They’ll be damned if they let someone else sweep you off your feet. It’s not like you’d leave willingly anyway. They spoil you too good and you feel too safe in their arms to even think of leaving
#simon riley cod#call of duty simon riley#simon x reader#ghost simon riley#gaz cod#cod john price#cod ghost#cod x reader#soap cod#cod mw3#ghost cod#call of duty x y/n#call of duty x you#call of duty x reader#call of duty#johnny mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#john soap mactavish#kyle garrick x y/n#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#john price x you#john price x reader#captain john price
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The Rite of Movement | part four
“so move me, baby”
A/N: so like the little slut that I am…I was kicking my feet and giggling at my desk yesterday while writing this 🤭 I surprise myself with just how filthy I can get, woo doggy! Please read the warnings and if this isn’t your cup of tea, just scroll on by baby love! No harm 💗 thank you to my bug @strang3lov3 for the moodboard!! I love u so much & a big thank you to @itsokbbygrl for betaing 🥺
~word count: 6.4k~
Summary: you meet Tommy Miller for the first time, and he takes you for a spin ;)
Pairing | pornstar!joel x pornstar!tommy x pornstar!female reader
Warnings: smut, fluff, established relationship, Joel is in his 40’s, reader is in her 30’s, mentions of alcohol and smoking, consent, unprotected piv, fingering, pussy play, f!masturbation, semi-public sex, reader and Tommy fuck and Joel’s into it, amateur porn video in the back of Tommy’s truck, language, filthy talk, praise kink, daddy kink, over stimulation/fucked out, light degradation (by Tommy but in a sexy non-offensive way), dumbification kink (endearing), readers nickname is baby love, reader has no physical descriptions, reader, Joel, and Tommy, are sexually liberated individuals, NSFW, +18 minors dni! Please let me know if I missed anything!
playlist🎧 series masterlist
“Joel…” you trailed off, picking at a loose thread on your denim skirt absentmindedly. “What if your brother doesn’t like me?” You questioned in an unsure tone.
He turned to face you, leaning over the dashboard while he rested his elbow along the steering wheel, “baby love, you ain’t got nothin’ to be worried about with my brother, okay? Think y’all are gonna get on like a house fire.” He winked in an attempt to soothe your budding nerves. “What about meetin’ him is gettin’ ya all worked up? Talk to me, darlin.’”
He gently grasped your bare knee in his big, warm, palm.
“This is going to sound so fucking stupid, Joel. But what if he finds me annoying—repulsive? I always get nervous when I’m meeting new people. I’m surprised I didn’t completely shit a brick when I first met you for instance.” You stifled a nervous laugh as you looked over at him.
He gave you that warm reassuring smile of his, dimples peeking through as he gently squeezed your knee. “Y’all are gonna get on just fine, ‘Kay? And listen, between you and me, Tommy and I—we uh—we discussed the possibility of the three of us filmin’ somethin’ together at some point. Now, there ain’t no rush for any of that, okay? Last thing I want to do is make you feel uncomfortable or pressured to get along with him.”
Your pupils dialated, thighs clenching inwards at the prospect of fucking…Tommy? Holy fuck—was this real life?
“You, and Tommy—fucking me?” You spluttered out, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. There was no denying that Tommy Miller was a real hunk, with the personality of a horny golden retriever. He was the complete opposite of Joel, but that intrigued you nonetheless.
“Only if you’d be interested in that, baby love. You don’t gotta decide right now, okay? Tonight’s all about you. If you’re feelin’ my brother, I want you to act on it only if you’re comfortable. He’s a real looker, but I’ve made sure that he’s a good Texas gentleman.” Joel reassured you as he was silently trying to gauge how you were feeling thus far based off your body language.
“And you’d be okay with him and I…?” You trailed off, meeting his gaze as you reached for his hand on your knee, interlocking your fingers through his.
“Of course I would be. I’m not gonna get weirdly jealous or possessive if you want to fuck my brother, baby love. That’s why I wanted to have this conversation with you ahead of tonight, because Tommy? He’s interested, but I told him to let you feel it out, and to not spring it on ya right away.”
He watched the subtle clench of your inner thighs, your pupils blown wide and your lips parting. He knew you were turned on by the prospect of fucking his brother, and your arousal inherently turned him on as well.
He dropped his forearm from its resting spot along the steering wheel and brought his hand to your other knee where he proceeded to coax your thighs open just a tad. You didn’t need much coaxing at all as your thighs naturally parted open, thoughts running wild.
“Look at me, baby love.” He rasped, rubbing soothing circles into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Is the thought of fucking my brother turnin’ you on, darlin?’ Ya drippin’ all pretty for him already?”
“Fuck.” You breathed out, eyes rolling back into your skull. Joel had barely even touched you yet, and you were leaking like a damn faucet through the gusset of your thin panties. You could feel a droplet of your arousal drip down and create a wet patch through the fabric. Your eyes met his, lower lip harshly taken between your teeth, pupils darkened like an oncoming storm, blown wide like a doe’s.
“I never thought the possibility of fucking your brother would arise, Joel. It’s like—a fantasy coming true.” You breathed out, head lolling to the side, “I think he has such a nice fucking cock.”
Joel preened, leaning the upper half of his body further over the center console as his fingers trailed closer to your covered core. He could feel you pulsing already, the anticipation of being touched igniting a fire in your veins the closer his fingers drew nearer.
“A fantasy come true, huh? You think about my brother a lot, baby love? S’okay if you do. Got yourself all worked up now…almost creating a mess on the seat with how fuckin’ wet your pussy is gettin’, baby.”
You whined out his name, letting yourself fully succumb to your depraved thoughts of fucking Tommy. Your brain felt fried, imploded to complete mush, and yet your Joel didn’t show a lick of judgment towards your arousal. In fact, he encouraged it and therefore you had no reason to feel shameful.
“Why don’t you get me all ready for him, Joel. C’mon baby, please. Play with me a little. Play with my pussy while I think about fucking your brother’s cock, Joel.” You shamelessly shifted your hips towards his hand, chasing his touch with unabashed desire.
He checked the time on his watch, a coy smirk playing on his sinful lips as he looked over at you, “Think we can afford to be fashionably late, baby love.”
-
Joel and Tommy’s local watering hole was exactly how you expected it to be: not the classiest, and certainly not your first pick, but if Joel were any other man, you would have hightailed out of there. But this was your Joel, and his warm palm guiding you to a booth that was tucked away in the corner. You were grateful for the outfit that you chose to wear for the evening could grant easy access. And with the residue of your release still coated between your thighs, you felt the trepidation and anticipation of what was to happen when Tommy would inevitably show up.
The thought had you buzzing all over again as you found yourself tucked into the wall seat of the booth, Joel’s hand finding purchase around your bare thigh as he leaned in, the tip of his aquiline nose brushing against your pulse point.
“Want anythin’ to drink, baby love? Or just water for now?” He rasped low and deep, sending goosebumps rising on your skin.
“Tequila, on the rocks.” You purred out your request, gripping on the edge of the booths worn leather for dear life.
“‘Kay, baby love. One tequila on the rocks comin’ right up.” He pressed a sweet kiss to the side of your face, leaving a whiff of his cologne and musk on your skin.
You watched as he slipped out of the booth and made his way over to the bartop, sleeves rolled up revealing broad, tan, forearms. His fingers that had only just been plunged deep into your pulsing cunt twenty minutes ago, were now casually flipping through a stack of twenties.
“S’cuse me, ma’am. This seat ain’t taken, is it?”
You peered up from your phone at the sound of the stranger's all-too familiar voice. A deep Texas drawl straight out of a western film, paired with two dark espresso colored eyes, a broad nose, and a head of dark, luscious curls that fell in ringlets.
Tommy fucking Miller, and that shit eating smirk of his that sent your thighs clenching together in tandem.
Holy—I need a glass of water.
“Oh, no. It’s not taken. Please, sit down.” You gestured to the empty seat across the booth with a nervous smile.
Tommy slipped into the booth with ease and reached behind his ear and pulled out a single cigarette, twirling it between his fingers before he placed it between his lips. He reached across the booth's table, hand outstretched in your direction. “Y’must be my big brother’s baby love. M’Tommy, the hotter Miller brother. It’s a pleasure to finally meet ya.”
You blinked, registering in your brain that Tommy Miller was in fact sitting across from you and looking like a goddamn snack nonetheless.
You reached for his hand, shaking it firmly, “charmed.” You grinned.
“Damn. And she’s polite too? My brother got the whole package with ya huh, sweetheart?” He chuckled smoothly, shaking your hand a moment longer before he retracted his. “Y’don’t mind if I smoke do ya?”
“Oh, no. Of course! I don’t mind.”
He nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulled out his lighter, lighting the cigarette with ease before he leaned back against the worn leather cushion, stretching his arm to rest along the backside of the booth, long fingers stretched out—flexing.
“Where’s the son of a bitch anyway?” Tommy asked casually, the lit end of the cigarette dipping downwards between his lips.
“He’s right here.” Joel had returned with your tequila on the rocks, and two glasses of neat whiskey. He slid one over to his brother with a small nod. “And you can’t smoke in here, Tommy.” Joel reminded him as he slid into the seat next to you.
“Says who? Doreen don’t give a damn.” Tommy quipped back as he reached for his glass, tipping it in yours and Joel’s direction.
“That’s cause Doreen’s got the fattest fuckin’ crush on you and that big head of yours.” Joel scoffed against the rim of his glass taking a sip before he turned his attention towards you. “Gotcha a water as well, baby love.”
“Who the hell you callin’ a big head, huh?” Tommy wiggled his eyebrows playfully and grasped the cigarette between his two fingers, replacing it with the rim of his glass as he took a sip. “How’s y’all’s evenin’ goin’ so far? Gettin’ into any trouble?”
“Believe I called you a big head, Tommy.” Joel chuckled, letting his free arm gently drape across your shoulders, squeezing them gently as you took a sip of your tequila on the rocks, letting the liquor burn down your throat and warm your stomach. “S’goin’ pretty good. First time baby loves been here, ain’t that right?”
You didn’t register that Joel was talking to you, his voice sounding fuzzy in your ears as you took a bigger sip of your drink. “What?” You questioned softly, being brought back down to earth when you felt his warm palm gently squeeze your shoulder. The heat rose to your cheeks fast and you cleared your throat, turning your face to the side to hide how flustered you were.
“Whatcha ya gettin’ all shy on us for, sweetheart? You don’t gotta do that with us. I swear, I don’t bite, unless ya want me to.” Tommy said with a coy wink.
“She’s just a lil’ bashful is all, cause on the way here she was—”
You cut Joel off, squeezing his bicep firmly in your palm. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom really quick, okay?” You kissed his cheek sweetly, and before he could even get up from the booth, you were slipping past him when you saw an opening.
Joel and Tommy both watched as you quickly walked to the nearest bathroom before they looked back at one another. Tommy took a long drag of his cigarette when Joel spoke again,
“She’s got the hots for you, little brother. She made a goddamn mess all over my fingers on the way here cus’ she was thinkin’ about your cock.” Joel said in a hushed, low tone.
Tommy’s brows raised as he leaned over the table, resting his cigarette off to the side. “Fuck. Y’serious? Goddamn. She make a mess all over the seat too? Bet she fuckin’ did.”
“Mhmmm.” Joel hummed, leaning back against the seat. “She told me that you have a nice fuckin’ cock.” He chuckled, shaking his head to the side before he leaned forward, “Now, when she gets back here after composing herself, I want you to flirt with her a bit. Let her come to you, okay? Y’gotta play nice with her, Tommy. She’s a sweet thing, and I know y’all are gonna get along jus’ fine.”
“Good god.” Tommy said lowly, holding back a groan. “You hit the fuckin’ jackpot with that one, Joel. I’ll play nice with her, scouts honor. Y’know I’ll take extra good care of her.”
“I know you will. She jus’ couldn’t believe it when I said that you and I discussed the possibility of filmin’ a video with her. Absolutely blew her fuckin’ mind with that one. But god, she looked so pretty all flustered and turned on thinkin’ about the two of us fuckin’ her.” Joel reached for his glass, swirling the amber liquid around and took another slow sip.
“Fuck, I bet she did look goddamn gorgeous like that. You got yourself a real filthy and nice girl, Joel. A man’s fuckin’ dream, you lucky son of a bitch. Don’t think I’ve ever seen your grumpy ass smile that much in my whole life. It’s refreshin’ seein’ you grinnin’ like a sinner in church.” Tommy chuckled warmly.
Joel preened as he thought about you. “She’s really amazing, Tommy. She’s been so supportive and brave, and we’re having so much fun with it. It’s been so long since work has felt fun, you know? Who’d’ve thought fucking would get old.” He chuckled with a small grin playing on his lips and a flush rising on his cheeks. “Never really met anyone quite like her, honestly.”
“Goddamn. Who’s in here choppin’ up the fuckin’ onions, huh? Fuck. You’re in love with her, ain’t ya? That’s amazing. I’m seriously so fuckin’ happy for you, Joel.”
“Fuck.” Joel said suddenly, feeling his heart lurch in his chest. “Shit. Yeah—I think, I think I am in love with her. It’s not too soon, is it? I mean—we jus’ we get eachother. I’ve never felt more comfortable with another person before. She gets me, Tommy. The real me. She sees my heart before she sees my job, and no other woman in my life has ever seen me in that light.” He sniffles, feeling tears prick the corner of his eyes at his emotional confession.
“Yeah, you got the love bug bad, brother. Really, really, bad. But y’know what? I know you ain’t bluffin’ about this one either. You’re speakin’ from your goddamn heart. I hear it in your voice, and that’s a beautiful fuckin’ thing, Joel. Cus’ if anyone deserves love in this world, it’s you. So you keep holdin’ onto that, ‘Kay?” Tommy said earnestly and reached across the table to gently squeeze Joel’s shoulder
“Shuddup, Tommy. Or you’re really gonna make me cry.” Joel chuckled through his tears, quickly wiping at his eyes. “I’m gonna keep holdin’ onto her for as long as she’ll have me. I’m hopin’ she’s endgame for me.”
“I reckon she will be.”
-
After you splashed a bit of water on your face and gave yourself a detailed pep talk in the women’s bathroom, you finally mustered up the courage to face Joel and Tommy again. Joel had reassured you in the car that nothing had to happen right away. He always wanted you to be comfortable and this was something that you were still getting used to. The idea of someone caring about you that much? It used to be unfathomable .
You never realized just how good it could get until you met Joel Miller. You were hoping that he would be your endgame too.
After taking one last glance into the mirror you left the bathroom with a new confident stride as you approached the booth. Joel greeted you with a warm and reassuring smile, and when he went to get up, you gently placed your hand against his chest, easing him back down onto the leather seat before you slid in beside him.
Tommy gently nudged your ankle with the toe of his boot, testing the waters with you and heeding Joel’s words to let you come to him.
“Y’feelin’ alright, sweetheart? Can we getcha anythin?” Tommy asked softly, brown eyes looking warm and inviting across the way.
“I’m okay.” You reassured him with a small smile. “It was just—getting really hot in here.” You said with a light laugh to ease the tension.
“Tends to happen when you’re feelin’ flustered.” Tommy added as he leaned in over the table. “Y’know, sweetheart,” he started, “S’okay if I call ya that?”
You nodded, reaching for your glass and took a quick sip.
“I watched one of your films the other day, and I gotta tell ya, you have some real talent. Not jus’ sayin’ that either. I mean it. You’re gorgeous, and I jus’ wanna let you know that there’s no pressure or anythin’ alright? We don’t even gotta do anythin’ tonight if you ain’t feelin’ up for it.”
Joel leaned in close to you then, warm whiskey coated breath kissing your skin as his arm gently wrapped around you, giving you a squeeze.
“Wouldn’t believe how good that pussy is, brother. Like nothin’ else you’ve ever had. Never wanna have another, truly.” He preened, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
Your thighs clamped together immediately and you could feel the corners of Joel’s lips upturn into a small grin.
“Don’t doubt that for a second, Joel.” Tommy nodded and ashed his cigarette along the rim of his empty glass. “Sweetheart, you’re such a natural, babygirl. And I have no doubt in my mind that you’re gonna become a star.”
You felt the heat rise to your cheeks from both Joel and Tommy’s words and if you were already on your way to hell, well—you just bought yourself a first class ticket!
“You really think I’m gonna be a star, Tommy?” You leaned forward against the table to match his energy, feeling yourself gravitating in his direction.
“Absolutely.” He nodded. “Now, Joel here wants me to take care of ya for a little. Y’okay with that, sweetheart? He’s gonna sit here nice n’comfy if you wanna—”
You were already up from the booth, reaching for Tommy’s hand in a haste and pulling him down the aisle and towards the door of the bar.
Tommy stumbled after you, his palm warm in your grasp as he followed you to the door. But being the gentleman that he was, he held the door open for you, letting you walk past first before he followed suit. “Where do you wanna go, babygirl?” He rasped against your ear, broad arm swooping around your waist, pulling you flush against his side.
“Your truck.” you said confidently, slipping your hand into the back pocket of his dark washed jeans.
“Fuck. You wanna make a mess all over my seats too, babygirl?” He reached for his keys, twirling them around his fingers.
Goddammit, Joel. You thought.
“Did he tell you that?” You squeaked out, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.
“He sure as fuck did, sweetheart. He also told me that you think I have a nice fuckin’ cock.” he chuckled, guiding you towards the direction of his parked pickup truck.
“Well, you do have a nice fucking cock, Tommy. And while your brother was playing with me earlier, all I could think about was you and your cock fucking me.” You lowered your voice when an unsuspecting couple walked past the two of you.
“Mmm. I knew that you were a little freak under all those nerves, babygirl. Gonna take real good care of you, okay?” He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, letting his hand curve around your hip. He was thankfully parked in a secluded spot in the lot where people would really have to pay attention to even see the debauchery that would soon be taking place.
He unlocked the back door for you, but before you could climb in, he gently pressed you back against it. “Before I fuck your brains out, I jus’ wanted to let you know that even though you’re consentin’ now, you can change your mind, okay? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gone with blue balls, babygirl. I want you to enjoy yourself and if you end up not wantin’ to continue, jus’ let me know, ‘Kay?” His words were genuine like Joel’s, and as much as you appreciated them, you were going to lose your mind any second now.
“Tommy, respectfully, thank you. Disrespectfully, I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to last without your cock stuffed inside of me.” You breathed out, letting your hand drop from the side of his truck and palm him through the tight confines of his jeans. “Please, fuck me.”
That’s all it took for Tommy to surge forward, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head as his lips met yours in a bruising kiss that was all tongue and teeth, very different from Joel’s style but you fucking loved it already and wasted no time to wind your arms around his neck, carding your fingers through his thick curls, giving them a good firm tug as he reached around you to pull the door latch open.
He bit down teasingly on your lower lip, tugging it out before chasing the kiss once more. “Get that sweet ass of yours in the backseat, babygirl” he mumbled against your lips and quickly pulled the door open.
Your lips detached from his for a moment only for you to climb into the backseat, falling onto your back as you blindly reached for the hem of your shirt and yanked it over your head.
Tommy was between your legs in seconds after the door slammed shut behind him. His hands grasped at your thighs, spreading them open and positioning your calves to rest over his shoulders. He had a direct view of your covered cunt, a fresh new wet patch blooming through the fabric that sent him grinning like a devil.
“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart. You that wet already? Those little panties of yours are practically ruined, babygirl.” He tsked under his breath as he situated himself as best as he could on his elbows. “Can you show her to me, baby? Show me that pretty pussy.” He nipped at your exposed inner thigh, dragging the stubble along his jaw against your skin while keeping his eyes locked on yours.
“I almost thought about touching myself in the bathroom when I was in there.” You let out a soft sigh as you dragged your hand down over your bare stomach and underneath the hem of your skirt. You looped your thumb around the outside of your panties, pulling them to the side revealing your puffy, soaked cunt to Tommy’s lustful gaze.
“You shoulda, babygirl. Little slut like you probably needs it all the time, huh? Fingers, a cock stuffed in you, a mouth on that pussy?” He chuckled with a grin. “Spread her open for me, sweetheart. Wanna see all of her before I fuckin’ ruin you.”
You let out a soft whimper from his words just as a droplet of arousal dripped down from your opening and slid down between your cheeks. You used your middle and forefinger to delicately spread yourself open, playing with your arousal that began to coat your fingers, and you couldn’t help but slip one finger in before slowly pulling it back out.
“Is she wet enough for you, Tommy? Maybe you need to give her a taste. See how wet she is for yourself.” You encouraged him with a subtle grin.
“Mmm. Try daddy, babygirl. Think you can call me that? You’ve got such a pretty pussy. My god. She’s already making a goddamn mess all over the seat. Go on and play with yourself for me, sweetheart. I wanna watch.”
“Oh, fuck. How did I already know that you were into the daddy kink?” You giggled softly while your fingers began to play with yourself in a teasing motion. You lightly played with your clit, letting out a soft moan as you dragged your fingers lower, teasing your entrance before slipping two fingers in. “Oh, fuck, daddy.” You moaned, watching him with hooded eyes as he began to palm himself through his jeans.
“That’s it. Good fuckin’ girl. Such a good little slut playin’ with her pussy for daddy. Gettin’ her all nice and ready for daddy’s cock.” He preened and reached for his belt buckle, undoing it so he would have a bit of relief. “You okay if daddy takes a video of this? That way you can watch it later and remember just how good I took care of you, babygirl.”
You nodded enthusiastically as you began to shallowly pump your fingers, curling them inwards before slipping them back out. “Of course you can take a video, daddy. It’ll be your souvenir.” You shot him a playful wink.
“Fuck. You’re really a naughty little slut, babygirl. Touching yourself in daddy’s truck. Gonna have to get it detailed after I’m done with you.” He snickered and reached for his phone and pulled it out of his pocket. He typed in his password quickly before opening the camera app. “Smile for the camera, babygirl.” He angled his phone towards your face and you responded with a cheesy grin, fingers working over your clit to keep yourself stimulated.
“Daddy’s here with his newest slut and her pretty pussy that’s going to be stuffed to the fuckin’ brim with daddy’s cock soon.” He brought his phone down between your thighs getting a good view of your fingers playing with yourself. “Drippin’ all over daddy’s fuckin’ seats like the naughty little slut that she is.”
“So fuckin’ wet for you, daddy.” You moaned, holding steady eye contact between Tommy’s phone and his face. “Show me your cock, please. I want to see it.”
“Ask and you shall receive, babygirl.” He shot you a wink and popped open the button of his jeans followed by his zipper. He pushed his jeans down over his hips along with his boxers. Your eyes went wide for a moment when his cock sprang free and slapped up against his taut stomach.
Tommy’s cock may have not been as thick as Joel’s, but it was longer, and curved at just the right angle.
“Get on all fours for me, baby girl.” He requested while he wrapped his fist around his cock, giving it a few languid strokes from base to tip. You couldn’t help but watch as he spit over the bulbous head, rubbing in his saliva for extra lubricant as you worked your skirt and panties off, tossing them into the front seat before you flipped over onto your stomach, situating yourself on your hands and knees.
“Well, if that ain’t a sight made in fuckin’ heaven.” He whistled and grabbed a handful of your left ass-cheek, kneading the soft flesh between his fingers before he gave it a good smack, watching it recoil back as you lurched forward, looking over your shoulder at him. Your pupils were blown wide, lower lip harshly taken between your teeth as you rocked your hips back towards him.
“Please fuck me, daddy.” You arched your back, wiggling your ass in a tantalizing motion just as he brought his hand down over your right cheek in a swift motion eliciting a surprised yelp to slip past your lips.
“You want daddy’s cock that bad, huh? Such a desperate little slut wantin’ to be stuffed full of daddy’s cock.” He slapped your left cheek then before he let his hand drift upwards against your spine, and to your shoulder blades. He gently pressed you further against the seat so that your back was arched even more.
"gonna stretch you out, gonna be ruined for anyone else." He growled against the shell of your ear. “You’re gonna be daddy’s favorite fuckin’ slut when he’s finished with you, babygirl.”
And then you felt the head of his cock press against the seam of your dripping cunt, teasing your folds and bumping against your neglected clit. “Look at you already creamin’ all over daddy’s cock. Barely even inside of you yet, sweetheart.”
You lurched forward when you felt him begin to press you open inch by inch till he was bottomed out with his hips pressed firmly against your ass. Your mouth fell open in an ‘o’ shape as he set an immediate punching rhythm that knocked the air from your lungs.
“Oh—oh fuck!” You moaned, listening to the lewd sounds of skin on skin slapping together. The squelch of your pussy and his heavy, guttural grunts as he pounded his hips into your ass over and over again.
“God, you're such a slut, babygirl. Daddy’s perfect little slut. You give it this good to all the boys, huh? God, your pussy is huggin’ me so goddamn tight.” He groaned out, almost forgetting that he had his phone in his hand still as his forehead came to rest upon your upper back. He slowed his thrusts down momentarily so you could catch your breath and he could check in on you.
“You good, babygirl?”
“Mhmm. Never better.”
He ground his hips against your ass, rolling them forward so you could feel all of him inside of you. Just when you had a moment to catch your breath, he picked the pace up once more and tossed his phone to the side so he could wrap both arms around you, yanking you back against his chest.
"such a whore, babygirl. Workin’ your way through our whole family, aren't you?" He whispered against the shell of your ear, biting down on it with his teeth as he fucked up into you at a new angle.
One hand groped one of your breasts while the other rested along the base of your neck. He was careful to not apply any pressure and get too caught up in the moment. He could feel your pussy fluttering around him, squeezing him like a vice with each pull and drag of his cock. Your eyes were shut in bliss, unabashed moans slipping past your lips as the coil in your belly was pulled tight.
The windows in Tommy’s truck had significantly begun to fog up from the steam that your activities were producing. And despite the discreet location that Tommy was parked in, you couldn’t help the rush you felt when you thought of the possibility of someone—or even Joel catching you and Tommy in this position.
Would he join right in? Fuck—
“Daddy—don’t stop, please!” You cried out, feeling that coil being pulled even tighter as your thighs began to tremble, and tears flooded your eyes: tears of overwhelming pleasure.
“That’s it, babygirl. Such a good fuckin’ cockslut for daddy. Good fuckin’ girl. You gonna come all over daddy’s cock? C’mon! Wanna see you fuckin’ coat me, sweetheart. Come all over my fuckin’ cock.” He snapped his hips forwards then, feeling his own release begin to catch up to him, but you always came first. Tommy would never let you, or any of his girls, not come before him.
He dropped one of his hands from your breasts to thum at your already sensitive clit to push you right on over the edge as you cried out his name, pulsing around his cock and seeing stars dancing behind your closed eyelids.
“There you go, babygirl. There you fuckin’ go.” His tone was much softer now as he slowly slipped out of you, his cock gleaming in your release. He gently flipped you over onto your back, cradling your face delicately in his big hands.
You had a cockdumb look on your face. Completely blissed out and in a whole other world. Your thighs fell open, as your own release drooled down the the seam of your fucked out hole and onto the interior leather seats. In this relaxed position, your pussy let out a squelching sound of air being released, causing you and Tommy to both laugh.
“Fucked her pretty good, didn’t I?” He chuckled to himself and pressed a kiss to your sweaty forehead. “You okay if I take a little look at her, babygirl? I wanna see the mess you made.”
“Mhmmm.” You hummed, lashes fluttering shut as you stretched your arms behind your head in a languid, relaxed movement.
Tommy reached for his discarded phone bringing it back down right over your still pulsing cunt as his fingers gently spread you open, sliding through the milky residue of your release.
“Fuck. So pretty, babygirl. You have such a pretty pussy.” He leaned down and pressed a light kiss to your clit, getting just a little taste before he pulled himself back up. “Definitely gonna have to get my truck detailed after this, sweetheart.” He ended the video, falling back against the seat beside you to catch his own breath.
You let out another soft, cock dumb giggle, peeking one eye open to look over at him. “You really think my pussy is that pretty, Tommy?” You dropped one of your hands to lazily rest along your stomach before dipping it between your thighs, missing that stimulated post-orgasm feeling already.
“Baby, she’s so fucking pretty. Like seriously I could happily watch you play with her for hours and easily get off to it.” He tilted his head to the side to look over at you, grin playing on his lips. “How are you feelin’?”
“Mmm. Joel loves to watch me play with myself too. Guess it’s just a Miller brother thing, huh?” You winked with a giggle. “I feel fucking amazing, Tommy.” Cock dumb and satisfied, you thought.
He preened at your response, resting his arms along the backseats as he let out a relaxed sigh. “Good, baby. I’m real happy to hear that. Means that I did my job right. And what can I say? Joel and I are big pussy lovers.” He chuckled and reached for his phone, texting Joel that they would be back shortly, and attached the video as well.
“Yeah, you guys sure are.”
-
After about twenty minutes, Tommy had to physically help you to sit up and redress. Your entire body felt like jello and you were still positively fucked out. He helped you out of the backseat, keeping his arm wrapped around you for support as he guided you back inside to the booth.
“Easy now, babygirl. Back into my brother’s lap you go. You just cuddle up with him now, ‘kay? Pussy took a real poundin’, let her rest.” Tommy cooed softly against your ear as Joel gently eased you into his lap, letting you bury your face into his neck and lazily wrap your arms around him.
“Mhmmm.” You mumbled against his neck, face scrunching up as you breathed in his natural aroma while he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, rubbing soothing circles into your back underneath your shirt.
"Did such a good job, baby love. Tommy showed me how sweet you were to him, let him feel how soft and warm you are, hmm? My good girl. Here, baby, I got you water. Need you to take a sip, you worked hard out there." Joel murmured softly to you.
“It was so much fun. Tommy was so good to me, baby. He thinks I have such a pretty pussy.” You softly giggled and blindly reached for the glass of water, pulling your face out from where it was pressed against his neck to guzzle the liquid down before cuddling right back up against him.
“I’m happy to hear that, baby love. I knew y’all were gonna hit it off. M’so proud of my girl. And yes, baby. You do have a pretty pussy. Rest now, ‘kay?”
You were out like a light then all curled up in his lap like a koala without a care in the world.
“Whatcha do to her, huh? Got my baby all cock drunk, Tommy.” Joel asked softly, reaching for his fresh glass of whiskey and took a small sip, careful to not disturb you.
Tommy was back across the booth, a new cigarette between his lips and his arms crossed behind his head in a relaxed position.
“Took ‘er for a real good spin.” He grinned, tapping his fingers along the worn, frayed leather. “Gonna have to get the truck fuckin’ detailed though.”
“That so? She make it all messy?” Joel asked.
“Fuck. Yeah, she made it real messy alright. Had her drippin’ all down the seats.”
Joel grinned at this, glancing down at your sleeping form in pure adoration and pride. “Mmm. I believe it. She’s always fuckin’ drippin.’ Doesn’t matter what time of the day it is, my baby love is always soakin.’”
“That right? Pretty slutty cunt like hers always ready to have a big cock in her, huh?” Tommy stifled a chuckle as he sank further against the seat.
You thought you were just having a wet dream, until your hand found Joel’s and discreetly tucked it between your thighs, pressing the pads of his fingers against your ruined cunt that was pulsing once more. Little needy breaths slipped past your parted lips when he gently began to play with you, understanding that you were silently asking him to make you come one more time. You kissed along his neck, open mouthed with little nibbles here and there as you came in his lap, falling back into a relaxed state.
“Okay, think I gotta get my baby love home and in bed. She’s gonna sleep so good tonight.” Joel softly announced as he nudged you gently.
“Oh, I reckon she will be. You take good care of her, Joel. And text me when y’all are home safe, ‘kay?” Tommy nodded in Joel’s direction.
“You know I will, Tommy. I’ll text ya when we’re home.” He gave his brother a little nod and helped you out of the booth and towards the door. Once you were outside, the fresh air seemed to help you wake up a little more as you leaned all your weight into his side.
“You’re so beautiful, baby love. I’m so thankful for you, y’know that? You did so fuckin’ good. I’m so proud of you, so fuckin’ proud of my girl. Let’s get you home, okay? You’re gonna sleep so good tonight.”
“I love you, Joel Miller.” You murmured into his shoulder, one arm draped around his middle for support. You may have been cock dumb, and completely fucked out, but you words were true. You loved Joel, and he deserved to hear it.
“I love you too, baby love. My beautiful, beautiful girl.”
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On not idolising creative people
In the wake of the various recent allegations involving Neil Gaiman, people have been both very sad that someone who they looked up to as an inspiration has, allegedly, turned out to be something less than entirely admirable, and are now looking to see who is now left that they can rotate into the spot of “the good dude,” i.e., that one successful creative guy who they think or at least hope isn’t hiding a cellar full of awful actions. One name I see brought up is mine, in ways ranging from “Well, at least we still have Scalzi,” to “Oh, God, please don’t let Scalzi be a fucking creep too.” Which, uhhhh, yeah? Thanks?
I have many thoughts about this and I’m going to try to make sense of them here, as much for myself as anyone else, so this may be messy and discursive and long (seriously, 3600 words, y’all), but, well, welcome to me. So, ordered by how these things come out of my head:
1. Stop Idolizing Creative People. Creative people are easy to idolize because they create the art you love, and that gives you permission to feel things, and to see yourself and your desires reflected in that art. That is a powerful thing, and from the outside, it can feel like magic, and that the people who do it are tapped into something otherworldly and admirable. Plus, they often get to have cool lives and get to know other cool creative people. They do things that are removed from the day-to-day aspect of a “normal” life, and they’ll even post about them on social media where you can see them. Sometimes, independent of their art directly, they’ll speak about their life, or life in general, and they’ll seem wise and considered and kind. I mean, what’s not to like?
But please consider that this is all an extremely mediated experience of this person. The art is the edited and massaged result of hours and days and weeks and months of work, into which the work of many others is also added. My novels originate from me, but it’s not just me in there, nor is the final form of the novel an accurate statement of who I am as a person, not least of all for the simple reason that I am not trying to tell my story in my novels. I’m creating fictional characters, and the world in which they make sense, for the purpose of the story.
Despite how it might look from the outside, this is not sorcery. It’s years of experience at a craft. It’s not magic, just work. A completed novel (or any other piece of art) won’t tell you much about the specific, day-to-day life and inclinations of the individual who made it, other than a general nod toward their competence, and the competence of their collaborators. Likewise what you see of their lives, even from the illusorily close vantage of social media, is deeply mediated. Lives always look admirable at a distance, when you can only see the lofty peaks and not the rubble at the base — especially when your attention by design is pointed at those lofty peaks. There’s much you don’t see and that you’re not meant to see. The vast majority of what you’re not meant to see isn’t nefarious. It’s just not your business.
Now, before I was a professional creative person, I was an entertainment journalist who spent years interviewing writers, directors, movie stars, musicians, authors and other creative folks. Since I’ve been on the other side of the rope, I’ve likewise met a huge range of creative people from all walks of life. Please believe me when I assure you that creative people are just people. Richer and/or more famous? Sometimes (less often than you might think, though). Prettier and/or more charismatic? Especially if they’re actors or pop stars, often yes! But at the end of the day they are just folks, and they run the whole range of how people are. By and large, the day-to-day experience of getting through their life is the same as yours. Outside of their own specific field of work, they don’t know any more about life, have no more facility for dealing with the world, and have just as few clues about what’s going on in their own head, as anyone else.
They’re just people. Whose work is making the stuff you like! And that’s great, but that’s not a substantive basis for idolizing them. It makes no more sense to idolize them than to idolize a baker who makes cookies you like, or the guy who comes and trims your hedges the way you want them to be trimmed, or the plumber who fixes your clogged drain. You can appreciate what they do, and even admire they skill they have. But holding them up as a life model might be a bit much. Which is the point! If you’re not willing to idolize a plumber, then you shouldn’t idolize a creative person.
(“But a plumber doesn’t make me feel like a creative person does,” you say, to which I say, are you sure about that? Because I will tell you what, when my sump pump stopped working and the plumber got in there, replaced the pump and started draining out my basement which had an inch of standing water in it, that man was the focus of all my emotions and was my goddamned hero that day. My plumber that day did more for me than easily 90% of the great art I’ve ever experienced.)
Enjoy the art creative people do. Enjoy the experience of them in the mediated version of them you get online and elsewhere, if such is your joy. But remember that the art is from the artist, not the artist themselves, and the version of their life you see is usually just the version they choose to show. There is so much you don’t see, and so much you’re not meant to see. At the end of the day, you don’t have all the information about who they are that you would need to make them your idol, or someone you might choose to, in some significant way, pattern some fraction of your life on. And anyway creative people aren’t any better at life than anyone else.
Which brings up the next point:
2. Fuck idols anyway! People are complicated and contradictory and you don’t know everything about them! You don’t know everything even about your parents or siblings or best friends or your partner! People are hypocrites and liars and fail to live up to their own standards for themselves, much less yours! Your version of them in your head will always be different than the version that actually exists in the world! Because you’re not them! Stop pretending people won’t be fuck ups! They will! Always!
This sounds more pessimistic about humans than perhaps it should be. When I say, for example, that people are hypocrites and liars, I don’t mean that people take every single opportunity to be hypocrites and liars. Most people are decent in the moment. But none of us — not one! — has always lived up to our own standard of behavior, and all of us have had the moment where, when confronted with a situation that would become an immense pain in the ass if we stuck to our guns, or demanded the inconvenient truth, decided to just bail instead, because the situation wasn’t worth the drama, or we had somewhere else to be, or whatever. We all choose battles and we all make the call in the moment, and sometimes the call is,��fuck this, I’m out.
Every person you’ve ever admired has fucked up, sometimes really badly. Everyone you’ve ever looked up to has secrets, and it’s possible some of those secrets would materially change how you think about them, not always for the better. Everyone you’ve ever known has things about them you don’t know, many of which aren’t even secrets, they’re just things you don’t engage with in your day-to-day experience of them. Nevertheless it’s possible if you were aware of them, it would change how you feel about them, for better or for worse. And now let’s flip that around! You have things about you that even your best friends don’t know, and might be surprised to learn! You have secrets you don’t wish to share with the class! You have fucked up, and lied, and have been a hypocrite too!
You are, in short, a human, as is everyone you know and every one you will know (pets and gregarious wild animals excepted). And all humans are, charitably, a mess. This doesn’t mean there aren’t good people or even exemplary people out there, since there are, along with the ones that are, charitably, a real shit show. What I am saying is that even the good or exemplary people out there are a mess, have been morally compromised at some point in their lives, and have not lived up to their own standards for themselves, independent of anyone else’s standard for them.
One of the aspects of being an “idol,” I think, is that higher standard that other people expect of you — that in every situation where the aspect they idolize you for is in play, you will act in a manner that is right and correct by their standard, which of course you will likely not know about because you don’t actually know them (or often know that they exist). This is, by definition, an impossible standard to be held to — you didn’t agree to it, or to engage with it — and an impossible standard to hold other people to without their direct consultation. Every human made to be an idol is destined to fail at the job. You don’t even have to have feet of clay! You just didn’t know you were on a pedestal to begin with.
(This does not excuse shitty action. The fact people should not be idols in the first place is not exculpatory for the choices one makes on one’s own. If you’re sexually assaulting people, or being a racist or sexist or homophobe or other flavor of bigot, or using your situational power coercively (as just a few examples), then hell yes you are going to be called out on it. And to be clear, it is not unreasonable, to put it mildly, to expect people not to sexually assault other people, or not to denigrate other humans for being who they are, etc. But this only adds to the point about idols, now, doesn’t it. You don’t know what you don’t see, and you don’t know what you’re not seeing, until it is hauled out into the light one way or the other. If it is hauled out into the light at all.)
I don’t think anyone should idolize anyone, ever. It’s not great for them, and it’s not great for you, they probably didn’t ask to be idolized (and if they did, holy shit, fucking run), and in the end unless you’re so completely wrapped up in their lives that they have no secrets from you — which is never — you don’t know enough to make that call. People do it anyway, and then disappointment happens, but they shouldn’t have done it in the first place. Stop idolizing people. It’s not fair for anyone.
What to do instead? Enjoy their work, if they’re a creative person. Appreciate the kind and good aspects of their life that you can see, and the decent actions they undertake in public, with the knowledge that what you see of them is a mediated and elided version. Understand that we all have a different version of ourself for every person we meet, and that every person we meet has a different vision of ourselves in their head, and very often, those two versions are not the same. Like them, based on what you know of them! Love them, if it comes to that. And when and if you learn something new about them that you didn’t know before, let empathy guide you to a new understanding of them and what they mean to you.
And now, taking all of the above into consideration:
3. Absolutely 100% do not idolize me. I don’t deserve to be idolized because no one deserves to be idolized, but also, holy fuck, I do know me and I’m a mess. There have been lots of things in my life that I’ve done that have not been admirable or kind. I can be petty and shitty and competitive and cruel. I am lazy and inattentive and when I let things slide (which is often), I end up jammed up on my responsibilities, which makes me irritable and no fun to be around. I have a temper which goes from zero to sixty almost instantaneously; if I’m not actively paying attention to it, I can become a sudden, unreasonable rage monster, which is a burden to people I love, and I hate that fact about myself (pro tip: don’t travel with me, the rage monster comes out a lot then).
I can be controlling and demanding but I want other people to handle the details, i.e., executive asshole. I am strategic in a way that can be bloodless. When I’m insecure I brag a lot, which is unflattering. If you cross me, I won’t go out of my way to make your life miserable (that would require effort on my part), but I will absolutely enjoy when you take a literal or metaphorical tumble down the stairs. God knows I’ve enjoyed the failures of the people who have spoken ill of me, almost as much as I’ve enjoyed the fuming, spittling rage they’ve felt when I’ve succeeded. I spent years cultivating a snarky persona online and while that was fun (for me), I’m increasingly aware that when the tally is added up for Who Ruined the Internet, I’m not necessarily going to be where I want to be on that particular ledger.
And these are only the bad qualities of mine I wish to admit to you at the moment. There are others, I assure you.
So, yes: Who wants to idolize me now?
“But you seemed so nice when I chatted with you online/met you at the convention/saw you at that one place that one time.” Well, thank you, I’ve been in the public eye in one manner or another for three and a half decades now and I understand my assignment; my public persona is friendly and engaging and sociable and mostly fun to be with. It’s not a fake version of me — I am all those things! Honest! — but, again, it’s a mediated version of me designed not only to be a positive experience for the people who meet me but also to get my actually introverted ass through a whole day of events at a convention/festival/book tour/whatever. When I’m done I collapse into an introverted hole. When I came back from Worldcon this week, I slept for 15 hours the first day I was home. It wasn’t just because of jet lag or con crud.
I rather famously call my public face “performance monkey mode,” and likewise what I say about my (current) online mode is that I’m cosplaying as a better version of myself, one that is kinder than I used to be online, and more patient than I am in the real world. If you meet me when I am “off” then you will find that, again, these versions of me are me, just with some things dialed up and other things dialed down. But even that is still a different version of me than, say, the version of me which is at home (which is in fact extremely boring; that version of me doesn’t talk much and mostly stays in my office).
Many of you who have followed me over the years are familiar with me saying things like this, of course, and are likewise familiar with me pointing out that there are a number of things about my life that I don’t mention in public, for whatever reasons I choose. But it’s also true that I’ve been actively online for 30+ years now, and people feel reasonably confident that they have a good bead on me and that there’s not much about me that will surprise them or change their understanding of me. So to bring home the point there are indeed things you don’t know, allow me to surface just one previously unaired fun fact:
I have a concealed carry license.
(Or did; it expired this year and I didn’t renew it, because Ohio changed its laws so that you no longer need a permit to conceal carry in the state. These days in Ohio you can just wander about with a handgun stuffed down your trousers without training or licensing because that’s a real good idea, now, isn’t it. Nevertheless, the license is not necessary anymore so there was not much point in renewing it, although if the law had not changed, I probably would have renewed.)
Why did I have a concealed carry license? Well, ultimately that’s not important. The point is I had one. I didn’t talk about it before because, among other things, the point of a concealed carry license (to me, anyway) is that its existence is not meant to be known by anyone other than that great state of Ohio itself. I am aware, and this is a dramatic understatement, that I am not a person most people would expect to have had such a thing. That the fact I had one will cause a number of people to reconsider what they know about me, for better or for worse. Which is also my point. All y’all have just learned this thing about me! Think about all the other things you don’t know!
Oh, God, this is where Scalzi starts admitting to terrible, terrible things. No. I feel pretty confident I live a tolerably ethical life. Part of the reason for this is that I have what I think is a decent operating principle, which is: If I’m thinking of doing something, and Krissy called me right then and asked “what are you doing?” and I would be tempted to lie to her about it, then I don’t do that thing. Because Krissy is the most important person in my life, and I don’t want to lie to her about what I’m doing (I have lied to her exactly once. She knew instantly. I haven’t bothered lying to her since). This is not replacing Krissy’s ethics with my own; it’s me knowing whether by my own ethics, I would be ashamed to tell to her what I am up to. It works very well. As such, the Krissy Test is an operating principle I highly suggest to others, although I’d suggest replacing Krissy with whomever your life is most important to you.
Be that as it may, my ethics are not universal and some others might not find them sufficient, for whatever reason. I am well aware I still disappoint many people, and that there are people who find my life choices, known positions or public statements (or lack of them, as the case may be) problematic, or who simply wish I would be other than what I am. I can’t help them with this, but again, this is the point. Given the fact that I am a fallible human who has an entire stratum of his life not visible to the world — and the strata of his life that are visible cause significant numbers of people to be irritated and exasperated — is it not better just to not hold me up as an ideal person, or the “good dude,” much less an idol of any sort?
I mean, shit. What Would John Scalzi Do? Solidly half the time, I have no fucking idea. I have to think about it, whatever it is. I have to think about whether I know enough to do or say something about it. I have to decide whether it’s something I want to engage with at all, and whether my engagement with it is something that would be of value to anyone, me included. I have to decide whether engaging with it is worth the shit I will get for it. And then I have to figure out what it means that I am engaging with it, since like it or not I’m a Dude of Reasonable Significance in My Field. I try to be a decent human, when people are looking at me and especially when they are not. But I also know me, and all my flaws and weaknesses and compromises.
What Would John Scalzi Do? The best he can, in the moment. Is that sufficient? For me, yes, most of the time. Is that sufficient for you? That’s up to you.
The point to this all is that people are just a big fucking mess, including the ones you might for whatever reason find admirable. I am no different than anyone else, and you should not be under the illusion that I am anything other than a shambling collection of flaws embedded inside a human form, which also, in its defense, has some pretty excellent qualities as well. We’re all this way! You too!
And while I want you to like my work, and to enjoy the version of me that you see here and elsewhere, don’t put me, or any other person, on a pedestal. Pedestals are wobbly and and don’t give actual humans a lot of room to move. We will inevitably fall off. Keep us with our feet on the ground. That way, when we stumble, there’s a chance we can get back up, and keep going.
— JS
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Reacting Answering and debunking Kristine s take on shifting (girl who talked about genetics and shifting)
Let’s clear the air, babes. 💅✨"
So, I know some of y’all might have stumbled across that TikTok from @sectumsempress (Christine), and if you haven’t yet, let me sum it up: it’s a video where she dives into her takes on shifting—some thought-provoking, some solid, and others… well, let’s just say they need a little rethinking.
Now, before anyone panics or starts spiraling, let me reassure you: you’re not doing anything wrong. Shifting is a personal journey, and one person’s opinions (even if they’re loud and sassy) don’t define the truth. If you’re feeling overwhelmed by her claims, breathe, because I’ve got you.
I’m here to break down her points one by one: where she’s spot on, where she’s almost there, and where she’s just plain off the mark. This isn’t about dragging anyone—it’s about keeping the shifting community informed, confident, and empowered.
Remember, babe: shifting is real, it’s valid, and you are more than capable of mastering it. Let’s dive into this post with clarity, sass, and a sprinkle of tough love. We’re addressing it all, and we’re doing it together. 💖✨
Taglist :
1: "I don't know what it is, but I do think there is a genetic component to who can and cannot shift."
Oh, honey. Let me stop you right there. Reality shifting is about consciousness, not chromosomes. No one’s out here unlocking DRs with their DNA. If shifting were genetic, then wouldn’t identical twins always have the same shifting abilities? Newsflash: they don’t. Shifting is deeply personal—it’s shaped by belief systems, practice, and the state of your subconscious mind.
Let’s talk logic:
If shifting were genetic, why do people from all backgrounds, ages, and cultures shift successfully?
If genes dictated shifting ability, how do beginners with no spiritual training manage to shift while seasoned practitioners struggle sometimes?
This "genetic component" claim feels like an excuse to gatekeep shifting behind a veil of exclusivity. You don’t need elite DNA—you need clarity, discipline, and faith in your abilities. What you’re really saying here is “I’m struggling and need something to blame.” Blame your approach, babe, not your ancestors. Shifting doesn’t care about your family tree; it cares about your mindset. 🧬✨
2: "Out of everyone who can shift, most of them shouldn't, including myself when I first started."
Now this is projection if I’ve ever seen it. Just because you weren’t ready when you started doesn’t mean the rest of the community isn’t. People shift for their own reasons, whether it’s healing, exploration, fun, or growth. Who are you to decide who should and shouldn’t explore their consciousness?
Let’s unpack this:
Shifting is a skill, and like any skill, it comes with a learning curve. Mistakes and missteps are part of the process. No one is perfect at it from the jump, but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t try.
This idea of “most people shouldn’t shift” reeks of elitism. What’s the criteria? Who makes the rules? Oh wait—you don’t, because this is an individual journey.
And let’s not ignore the thinly veiled guilt here. “Including myself when I first started” screams “I made mistakes, so no one else should try.” No, sis, you made mistakes so others can learn and grow. Let people figure it out for themselves—your experience isn’t universal. Stay humble. 💁♀️✨
3: "If shifting is affecting your current reality to the point where your mental health plummets and you can't function, the cost is too high. This is also at past me."
Okay, valid point. For once, we’re aligned—but let’s add nuance. Shifting itself isn’t the villain here. The problem arises when someone uses shifting as an escape or obsesses over their DR to the detriment of their CR.
Here’s the truth:
Shifting works best when you’re grounded in your CR. Neglecting your CR responsibilities, ignoring self-care, or avoiding real-life problems will inevitably lead to burnout. Your CR self is the foundation for all your realities. If you’re not taking care of yourself here, it’s going to show up in your DR too.
Balance is key. Shifting can be an incredible tool for healing and self-discovery, but it’s not a replacement for addressing your mental health or real-life challenges.
Let’s also call out this “past me” comment. You’re shading yourself for your mistakes, which is fair, but don’t let that self-criticism turn into fear-mongering for others. Instead of saying “the cost is too high,” try saying, “Learn from my mistakes and prioritize your well-being.” That’s the energy we need. 🧠✨
4: "I think there will come a time when shifting is able to be explained scientifically."
Now we’re getting somewhere. Yes, science may eventually catch up, but let’s not act like shifting is waiting for permission to exist. Just because something isn’t fully understood doesn’t mean it’s invalid. Dreams weren’t “real” until REM sleep was discovered. Electricity wasn’t harnessed until the right tools were developed. Shifting is the same—it’s ahead of its time.
Here’s the tea:
Quantum physics already hints at the nature of reality being far more fluid and observer-dependent than we once thought. Concepts like the observer effect and parallel universes align with what shifters describe.
Neurology is just scratching the surface of how visualization and intention shape the brain. Lucid dreaming, meditation, and neuroplasticity all prove that the mind is capable of extraordinary things.
The fact that shifting isn’t yet measurable doesn’t diminish its validity. Science is a tool, not a dictator of truth. Shifting is real now, and science will catch up later. Don’t let the lack of a peer-reviewed study make you doubt your own experiences. 🔬✨
5: "The majority of people on Shiftok in 2020 were lying."
You’re not wrong, but let’s dig deeper. Were there liars? Absolutely. TikTok’s algorithm rewards drama, and fake success stories grabbed attention. But dismissing the entire Shiftok community as liars is lazy and reductive.
Here’s what really happened:
Many people on Shiftok were genuine shifters sharing their tips and experiences. The problem was that TikTok favored sensationalism over authenticity. Real advice got buried under Hogwarts weddings and Draco stans claiming they had seven kids in one night. 🐍✨
The fake stories weren’t malicious—they were clout-chasing. People wanted likes, and exaggerating their experiences worked.
But let’s not let the liars overshadow the genuine shifters who were out there putting in the work. Misinformation thrived because of the platform, not because everyone was lying. Don’t throw out the whole community just because some people were playing the algorithm. 🌟✨
6: "Way more people outside of the internet shift than we think they do, and most of them are adults."
This one is surprisingly solid, but let’s add some layers. Shifting has been around forever—it’s not a TikTok invention. People have been exploring alternate realities under different names, like astral projection, lucid dreaming, and deep meditation, for centuries. These practices have roots in spiritual traditions across cultures, often led by—you guessed it—adults.
Why don’t we hear more about these adults?
They’re less likely to post about it online because they don’t care about clout or “DR trends.”
Many adults see shifting as a private, sacred practice rather than something to flex.
But here’s where the take falters: don’t dismiss teens and younger people just because they’re more visible online. Shifting transcends age. The internet didn’t create shifting; it just gave teens a platform to talk about it. And let’s not act like adults are automatically better at it—age doesn’t guarantee discipline or skill, hun. Stop pitting age groups against each other. Shifting is for everyone, whether you’re 15 or 50. 🌌✨
7: "Nine out of ten times, teenagers do not have the emotional maturity or mental capacity to handle a DR. I know I sure wouldn't have been able to."
Okay, this one SCREAMS projection. Just because you weren’t ready doesn’t mean an entire generation of teenagers isn’t. Emotional maturity isn’t an age—it’s a mindset. While it’s true that some teens might struggle with the responsibilities or intensity of a DR, plenty of them are capable of handling it.
Here’s what you’re missing:
Shifting is deeply personal. One teen’s DR might be about living in Hogwarts, while another’s might be about exploring their self-worth or healing trauma. What they can handle depends on their intent and preparation—not their birth year.
This take also assumes that adults magically have their lives together. Let’s be real—plenty of adults couldn’t handle a DR either. Emotional maturity is learned through experience, not something that just arrives with age.
Instead of writing off teenagers as too immature, why not empower them to approach shifting responsibly? Help them understand the importance of grounding techniques, journaling, and balancing their CR. Support them instead of gatekeeping, babe. Growth comes from guidance, not judgment. 🖤✨
8: "Shifting to live as a child when you are an adult is wrong."
Oh, let’s unpack this nonsense, because the judgment here is LOUD and unnecessary. Shifting to live as a child isn’t inherently “wrong”—it’s all about intent. People shift to younger ages for all kinds of valid reasons:
Healing: Someone who had a traumatic childhood might shift to experience the innocence and joy they missed out on. That’s not “wrong”—it’s deeply therapeutic.
Nostalgia: Revisiting a simpler time in life can be comforting and grounding.
Where’s the harm if someone is revisiting their childhood for healing or self-discovery? The only time this could be “wrong” is if someone’s doing it for malicious, fetishistic, or exploitative reasons. And let’s be clear—that’s an issue with the person’s intent, not the act of shifting itself.
This take reeks of moral grandstanding. If you don’t understand why someone might shift to a younger age, maybe try asking instead of judging. People’s reasons for shifting are complex and personal. Stay in your lane and let them live. 🍼✨
9: "Shifting to live as an adult when you are a child is wrong."
And here comes the hypocrisy. Why is shifting to an adult age suddenly a problem? If a teenager shifts to experience independence, maturity, or even just to see what adulthood is like, how is that “wrong”?
Let’s break it down:
Exploring independence: Teens often feel powerless in their CR lives. Shifting to adulthood can give them a sense of control or help them explore who they want to be.
Learning experiences: Shifting to an adult DR doesn’t mean teens are out here taking real-world risks. It’s an internal journey. They’re not suddenly going to have access to bank accounts or responsibilities in their CR.
The issue isn’t teens shifting to adult ages—it’s how they approach adult themes. If a teen shifts irresponsibly or romanticizes harmful aspects of adulthood, that’s a learning opportunity, not a reason to gatekeep. Let them explore and grow. The real world isn’t handing out “mature enough” badges; why should shifting? 🔑✨
10: "Shifting is a perception of reality that takes place inside your own mind, and this does not make it any less real."
Babe, what even IS this take? Calling shifting “a perception of reality inside your own mind” is the laziest oversimplification. It’s like saying the ocean is just “wet stuff” or the universe is just “space.” Shifting is SO much more than a mental exercise.
Here’s why this is bullshit:
Shifters report full sensory immersion in their DRs—smells, tastes, and even physical sensations. That’s not just perception; that’s a relocation of awareness.
Many shifters describe gaining knowledge or skills in their DRs that they couldn’t have fabricated in their CR minds. That’s evidence of connection to a separate reality, not just “perception.”
Saying it’s all in your head is reductive and dismissive. Shifting isn’t just a daydream or lucid dream—it’s a deliberate movement of consciousness.
By this logic, everything you experience is just “perception,” and therefore not real. Do better. Shifting is as real as the CR you’re reading this in—it’s just on a different frequency. 🌀✨
11: "Therefore, perma shifting is impossible."
Who told you this? Perma shifting isn’t just possible—it’s the logical extension of what shifting already is. If infinite realities exist and your consciousness can relocate temporarily, what exactly is stopping it from staying permanently?
Let’s debunk this thoroughly:
Shifting doesn’t require you to return to your CR. You’re not tethered here by some metaphysical leash. If you can spend weeks in a DR, why not forever?
This take assumes that your CR body is what keeps you “alive.” Wrong. Your consciousness is the seat of your existence, not the meat suit you’re wearing in your CR.
The only barrier to perma shifting is fear or lack of belief. People who say it’s impossible are projecting their own limitations. If shifting is real, so is perma shifting. Stop trying to box people into your doubts. Perma shifters are already out there living their best DR lives while you’re here arguing with yourself. 🖤✨
12: "Your body will not get up and do things while you're shifting."
Okay, I’ll give credit where it’s due—this one is spot on. Your CR body doesn’t suddenly start sleepwalking or doing the cha-cha while you’re in your DR. Shifting doesn’t override your physical body’s autopilot mode. Instead, your CR body stays in a deep state of rest, like sleeping or meditating.
Here’s why this is accurate:
Shifting is a relocation of consciousness, not physical movement. Your awareness moves to your DR, while your CR body stays put. It’s like putting your computer on sleep mode—it’s still there, just inactive.
If your CR body did start moving, you’d be blending realities, which isn’t how shifting works. Shifting creates a clear boundary between where your consciousness is and where your body remains.
That said, your CR body can react slightly to your DR state—like twitching or deepened breathing—but it’s not going to hop up and do laundry. So yes, you’re right, but don’t act like this is revolutionary knowledge. Most people know this already. Your body stays put while your mind does the exploring. 🛏️✨
13: "Most people treat scripting and shifting as a choose-your-own-path fanfic instead of reality."
This one’s got layers, and I’m ready to dig in. First of all, who cares if someone treats scripting like fanfic? Scripting is a personal tool, and people can approach it however they like. But let’s get real: scripting is way more than fanfiction.
Here’s the nuance:
Scripting is a powerful manifestation tool. It sets clear intentions for what you want to experience in your DR. Treating it like a story doesn’t make it any less valid. If imagining yourself as the protagonist in a beautifully detailed “fanfic” helps you focus, then it’s working, period.
Not everyone scripts for the same reasons. Some people use it to map out specific DR details, while others treat it as a loose guide. Neither approach is wrong—it’s about what works for YOU.
Also, let’s not act like scripting takes away from the “reality” of shifting. Scripting isn’t fake—it’s preparation. The moment you shift, what you scripted becomes as real as your CR. So stop invalidating people’s methods just because you don’t like the format. 💁♀️✨
14: "Putting your DR on a pedestal makes it harder to get to."
Okay, now we’re talking sense. This take is 100% accurate, and it’s a trap that a lot of shifters fall into. When you treat your DR like it’s some magical, unattainable place, you create mental resistance that makes shifting harder.
Here’s why this is true:
Your subconscious mind follows your beliefs. If you see your DR as something distant or godlike, your subconscious will act accordingly. It’ll say, “Oh, we’re not worthy yet? Cool, let’s not shift.”
When you overhype your DR, you’re also adding unnecessary pressure. Shifting becomes less about the journey and more about the desperation to “make it happen.” That desperation creates doubt, which blocks your progress.
The trick? Normalize your DR. Think of it as a natural extension of your existence, not some impossible dream. It’s real, attainable, and waiting for you—you just have to stop psyching yourself out. DRs are exciting, but they’re not fairy tales. Treat them as real, and your subconscious will follow suit. ✨
15: "I'm really excited about going to my DR in the same way that I'm really excited about going to a theme park or to a museum. Something very exciting but also very real and attainable."
Another solid take—this is exactly the right mindset. Approaching your DR with excitement, but without putting it on a pedestal, is the sweet spot for successful shifting. It’s the energy of anticipation, not desperation, that aligns your mind with your destination.
Here’s why this works:
Excitement fuels intention. When you’re genuinely excited about shifting, your subconscious is more likely to cooperate because it associates your DR with positive emotions.
Seeing your DR as “real and attainable” grounds your belief system. If you treat it like a natural part of your reality, your mind will perceive it as such.
This take is also a great reminder that shifting is a journey, not a chore. Approach it with the same joy you’d have for any adventure, and the process becomes smoother. Your DR isn’t some untouchable fantasy—it’s a place you can visit with the right mindset. Theme park energy, but make it metaphysical. 🎢✨
16: "I'm not excited about going to my DR like some heavenly dream world. That's just unrealistic."
Thank you for saying this, because it’s time to drag the “heavenly DR” myth. DRs aren’t utopias, and expecting them to be perfect sets you up for disappointment. Shifting is about experiencing another reality, not escaping to some flawless paradise.
Here’s the tea:
Every DR has challenges. Just like CR, your DR will have ups and downs. That doesn’t make it any less real or amazing—it just makes it dynamic and authentic.
Thinking of your DR as a “heavenly dream world” adds unnecessary pressure. When you finally shift and realize your DR isn’t perfect, you risk feeling disillusioned or disappointed.
The truth? Your DR is real, but it’s not going to solve all your problems or fulfill all your fantasies. Treat it as an exciting new chapter, not a flawless escape. The more grounded your expectations, the more satisfying your experience will be. ✨
17: "Judging people for what they do in their DR based on CR standards is usually wrong."
Finally, a take that makes sense! This is the kind of nuance we need in the shifting community. DRs operate on their own rules, and trying to apply CR standards to them is like judging a fish for not climbing a tree.
Here’s why this is on point:
Different realities, different rules. What might be morally or socially acceptable in CR could be completely irrelevant in a DR. People shift to explore and experience, not to replicate the exact conditions of CR.
Judging others is counterproductive. Shifting is deeply personal. Someone’s DR journey might be about exploring sides of themselves that they suppress in CR, and that’s valid. As long as they’re not harming others, it’s not your business.
Let’s be clear, though: this doesn’t excuse harmful behavior in DRs. If someone’s intentionally scripting unethical or damaging scenarios, that’s a different conversation. But for the most part, let people live and shift without your CR morality checklist. 🌀✨
18: "Every single thing you script has far-reaching consequences that you cannot imagine until you get there. If you script that you can't sweat or can't grow body hair, you'll show up in your DR with some medical condition that causes those things."
Girl, when we thought there was progress... you do THIS?! Let’s break it down, because this take is serving a mix of paranoia and half-truths, and I’m disappointed.
Yes, scripting can shape your DR reality, but this idea that every single detail comes with “far-reaching consequences” is dramatic and misleading.
Scripting sets intentions. If you script that you don’t sweat, your DR might interpret that literally, but it doesn’t mean you’re suddenly cursed with a medical condition. Your DR adapts to your intentions, not in some twisted monkey’s paw way, but in alignment with your desires.
This take leans heavily into fear-mongering. It’s important to script mindfully, but implying that a poorly worded script will backfire catastrophically is unnecessary drama.
Let’s not scare people into thinking shifting is a minefield of unintended consequences. Scripting is flexible and intuitive. If you don’t like something in your DR, you can shift back and adjust. Chill, girl—it’s not that deep. 😒✨
19: "Things in reality don't just fucking happen for no reason."
This is facts, but let’s unpack it fully. Whether it’s CR or DR, reality operates on cause and effect. Your actions, intentions, and beliefs shape your experience.
Here’s the tea:
In shifting, your subconscious mind plays a huge role. Nothing “just happens.” If you experience something unexpected in your DR, it’s often tied to unintentional thoughts, emotions, or residual CR beliefs.
This take is a good reminder to take responsibility for your scripting and intentions. You are the architect of your DR. If something goes awry, it’s not because the universe is out to get you—it’s because of how you set the framework.
That said, let’s not act like every single thing needs to be micromanaged. Part of the fun of shifting is letting your DR surprise you. Control the big stuff, but leave room for spontaneity. Your DR doesn’t need to feel like a sterile checklist. ✨
20: "Scripting yourself a dysfunctional abusive family on purpose is fucked up."
YES, babe, say it louder for the people in the back! This is a take I fully agree with. If you’re intentionally scripting harmful or abusive dynamics into your DR, you need to seriously reflect on why.
Here’s why this is so problematic:
Your DR is a space for growth, healing, and exploration. Why would you willingly bring toxicity into it? If you want to explore complex relationships, that’s fine, but scripting outright abuse is deeply concerning.
This kind of scripting raises ethical red flags. Even if DR characters are technically constructs, the energy and intent behind scripting abuse can reflect unresolved issues or harmful tendencies.
Shifting is a powerful tool—don’t misuse it by scripting negativity for the sake of drama. If you’re scripting toxic situations, ask yourself what you’re really seeking. Your DR should uplift you, not drag you into unnecessary harm. Do better. 🖤✨
Let’s wrap this up with love and clarity, babes. 💖✨"
So, after unpacking @sectumsempress’s (Christine’s) points, here’s the bottom line: Shifting is YOUR journey. Some of her takes were valid, others were shaky, and a few? Well, they needed a reality check. But hey, that’s the beauty of conversations like these—it gives us a chance to reflect, grow, and strengthen our understanding of shifting.
Remember:
Shifting is deeply personal. What works for one person might not work for you, and that’s okay.
Misinformation doesn’t define you. Always question, explore, and trust your intuition.
You are capable, worthy, and enough. Whether you’re scripting, visualizing, or just starting out, your DR is closer than you think.
At the end of the day, the shifting community thrives when we support, uplift, and educate each other. So let’s keep pushing forward with confidence, kindness, and a whole lot of sass. Your reality is yours to create—don’t let anyone dim that light. 💅✨
#reality shifting#shiftblr#shifting#shifting community#desired reality#shifting realities#shifters#reality shifter#shifting antis dni#reality shift#shifting stories#shifting blog#shifting motivation#shifting reality#shift#reality shifting community#permashifting#shifter#scripting#shiftok#current reality#shiftinconsciousness
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Good, Bad
Hunter x fem!reader x Crosshair, use of she/her but no use of y/n
Summary: nasty smut with Crosshair and Hunter (plot? who’s she?)
Word count: 3.3k (oops)
Warnings: smut MINORS GTFO, threesome (mmf) NO CLONECEST, unprotected piv sex (wrap it up in real life y’all), mention/use of sex toys and handcuffs, lots of degradation, also lots of praise, honorifics (sir), use of safewords, Tech makes sex toys, edging, face fucking/riding, oral (m and f receiving), spanking, creampies, choking, overstimulation, I think that’s it??
a/n: I rb’d this post ⬇️ with these tags and got an anon ask to write the fic so here we are!!
a/n 2: this is my first time writing explicitly kink stuff, so if I messed anything big up, please let me know. I did some research, but there’s a possibility that I missed something
What you had with Hunter and Crosshair didn’t really have a label. It wasn’t quite friends with benefits, given that you were exclusive, but you weren’t quite dating, either. What wasn’t ambiguous, however, was that the sex was top-tier. The two of them had lots of experience, and they sure put it to good use. They took you individually, together, in the bedroom, in the closet, in the shower, you name it. This dynamic gave new meaning to the concept of “variety is the spice of life,” and tonight, things were gonna get spicy.
So that’s how you found yourself in your room with the guys, Hunter stood behind you rubbing your shoulders to ease the tension there while Crosshair got things prepared. He’d grabbed lube, a couple of toys, a waterproof blanket for the bed, some water bottles, a couple of toys, and some other supplies to use throughout the evening.
“You sure you’re up for this mesh’la?” Hunter inquired, always intent on making sure you gave consent. One of his favorite things was asking for your consent enough times to the point where you’d beg for him to fuck you- and he loved every bit of it.
“Yes, I’m ready,” you affirmed.
“You remember the safeword system?” Crosshair questioned.
“Yes, I remember,” you reassured.
“Then say it back to us. We want to make sure everyone is on the same page, and that we keep you safe,” Hunter asserted. You turned around to look him in the eyes before responding, “Green means ‘keep going’, yellow means ‘slow down’ or ‘proceed with caution’, red means ‘pause’, and black means we’re done for the evening,” you recited. “And I’m green right now; all set to go.”
“Well done, mesh’la, I’m so proud of you,” Hunter murmured, nuzzling into your neck. “So good at being good.”
“There’s no way this little slut would forget the system,” Crosshair whispered from behind you, turning your face towards him before continuing, “We couldn’t fuck it out of her even if we tried. Little cockwhore needs to be filled, and she knows she needs the safewords in order to get what she wants.”
You let out a little whimper- so that’s the chosen dynamic for tonight. Hunter fed your praise kink, while Crosshair took hold of your need to be degraded. You lovingly referred to it as the ‘good cock, bad cock’ routine. “So… what are things looking like for tonight?”
“You see those toys over there?” Hunter indicated over to the dresser where Crosshair’s little ‘assistants’ for the evening were displayed. “Crosshair is gonna use these on you, and you’re gonna follow his directions exactly. When you do, I get to reward you. Deal?”
“If she’s good,” Crosshair corrected. “Sometimes the little slut can’t help but break the rules. And if that happens… no reward.”
“She’ll be good,” Hunter asserted. Turning to you, he asked, “Isn’t that right, mesh’la?”
“Yes sir, I’ll be good,” you assured. Hunter gave his brother a knowing look, to which Crosshair gave his usual scowl.
“Get on the bed, little cumslut,” Crosshair demanded, to which you gave a quiet “yes, sir,”
Crosshair led you over to the bed, grabbing a pair of cuffs on the way. They’d been specially made by Tech for these sorts of situations. In fact, all of the toys on display were ones Tech had made. His were better than any you’d been able to find at a store or online, so they showed up pretty regularly during scenes that involved toys. Holding up the cuffs, he asked, “What color?”
“Green,” you replied, holding your wrists to the bed frame where you knew he’d ask you to put them.
“Good girl, knowing exactly what to do,” Hunter praised, laying down next to you and brushing a hand over your cheek.
“You give her too much credit, she’s doing exactly what I fucking told her to,” Crosshair retorted. “Little bitch knows I expect nothing less. Isn’t that right, naughty girl?”
“Yes sir,” you responded, but that wasn’t enough.
“Yes sir, what?” Crosshair demanded.
“Yes sir, I did what you told me to,” you repeated. Hunter decided to stay quiet for the moment, letting Crosshair do as he pleased. Crosshair got up and walked back over to the dresser, looking down at his options for how to proceed. He definitely wanted to use the wand at some point; you always looked so pitiful when edged for long enough, plus hearing you beg to be allowed to cum turned him on like nothing else. He also considered using the buttplug, but that wasn’t the highest thing on his list of priorities at the moment. Browsing over the other options, he grabbed the wand and the lube, figuring he could come back and reevaluate later.
Meanwhile, Hunter had tilted your face towards him, kissing you gently. As he did so, one of his hands went from holding your face to massaging a breast, earning a moan, which he swallowed eagerly. Noticing that Crosshair was ready to continue, he pulled away, but stayed within arm’s reach to give you support.
“Color?” Crosshair asked.
“Green,” you gave, a bit more breathless than before. Hunter’s kisses always did that to you.
“This is what I’m going to do to you. I’m going to use this wand on you, and you’re not allowed to come. If you do, I’m going to use the cane on you, and for each second of your orgasm, you will receive one hit to the ass. Repeat back to me what I said.”
“You’re going to use the wand on me and edge me. If I come, I get one hit to the ass with the cane for each second of my orgasm.”
Without another word, Crosshair settled between your legs, squirting a bit of lube onto his hands and the wand before turning it on. He dragged it up the inside of your left thigh, watching you squirm, desperately trying to get some sort of friction. Putting down the wand and grabbing your legs, Crosshair forced them open even more. “Keep your legs open, little slut. I’ve seen you do it before, don’t be lazy.”
“You can keep those pretty legs of yours open, right, baby?” Hunter chimed in, brushing a stray hair out of your face.
“Yes, sirs,” you affirmed, focusing on keeping your legs open and ready as Crosshair kept teasing you with the toy. He would bring it closer to your aching cunt before moving it away. You knew he loved teasing you like this; you also knew he could take his sweet time when he wanted to. Thankfully, he was feeling a bit impatient tonight.
When he moved the toy to where you needed it most, your body jerked, trying to get more. A strong smack to the thigh told you to keep still as he ghosted the wand over your clit. You focused all of your energy on staying still and keeping your legs open, but it was getting increasingly difficult as Crosshair applied more pressure with the wand. The whole time, you could feel Hunter’s presence next to you, and at one point, he brought one of his hands up to hold yours where they were bound to the bed frame.
As you felt yourself approaching the precipice, Crosshair pulled the toy away and sat there for a moment, watching your cunt spasm around nothing, longing to be filled. But he wasn’t about to let you get what you wanted so easily.
“That was me going easy on you,” Crosshair divulged. “It only gets more difficult from here, and remember what I told you would happen if you come before I give you permission. No, tell me what happens if you come early.”
“If I come, I get one hit to the ass with the cane for each second of my orgasm,” you remembered. With a single nod, Crosshair redirected his attention to your pussy, reacquainting it with the wand. Tired from your first edge, your control over your body was slipping, and you felt your orgasm nearing once again. This time, Crosshair kept the wand on for longer, and you had to muster all of your energy to keep from coming.
Finally, he pulled away, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Looking over towards Hunter, you saw he’d started palming himself, patiently waiting for the show to continue. When he saw you looking at him, he asked, “Think you could help me out with this, mesh’la?”
“How can I help?” you asked, glancing up at your still-bound hands.
“Let me ride that pretty face of yours. Your mouth always feels so good, and it’ll give you something to concentrate on while Cross is edging you,” he clarified, looking over to Crosshair to make sure he was okay with that idea. With a nod, he looked back to you, he asked, “Is that okay with you? What color?”
“Green,” you responded, looking forward to having Hunter’s cock down your throat.
“What is Hunter about to do to you, cockslut? Say it back to us,” Crosshair demanded.
“He’s gonna ride my face and fuck my mouth, use me how he wants,” you whispered, looking over as Hunter climbed over your face.
“Such a good girl,” Hunter moaned, and without another word, he sunk into your awaiting mouth, grabbing onto the bed frame for balance. Crosshair placed the wand back on your clit, and you moaned around Hunter’s cock as he bottomed out. He held still for a moment, getting used to the feeling of your throat, while you tried to focus on breathing through your nose. He was big, and it had taken a while to train you to be able to take all of him. He moved his hands so that they were holding yours, while still maintaining his balance.
Crosshair kept his attention trained on edging you a third time. Hunter was right- this time, you were able to concentrate on sucking Hunter off, so you had something to focus your attention on instead of just the sensation from the wand between your legs. Hunter pulled out a bit before pushing back in, content with fucking your mouth nice and slow for the moment.
As you approached your orgasm a third time, Crosshair sped the motions with the wand, forcing you to choke on Hunter, who only fucked your throat faster in response. As you held your orgasm off the best you could, he pushed into you as far as he could and spilled his cum down your throat. Finally, Crosshair relented, pulling the toy away as Hunter pulled out of your mouth.
“Color?” Hunter checked.
“Red. I need some water,” you admitted. Crosshair got off the bed and grabbed one of the water bottles as Hunter climbed off of you and whispered, “You did so, so well, mesh’la. I’m so proud of you, and you should be proud of yourself, too,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss you.
Crosshair brought the water over and you opened your mouth for him to pour some water into. You drank deeply, not realizing how thirsty you actually were.
“How're you feeling now? What’re you thinking?” Hunter questioned. You took a minute to respond before admitting, “I don’t think I can take any more edges.” You looked over at Crosshair before continuing, “I’m sorry, I wish I could do more.”
“Maybe another night,” Crosshair conceded. “You know your limits, and I won’t cross a boundary. Time to move on?” You nodded in response. Hunter kissed your forehead and added, “You’re doing so well. Your body can only take so much, and you were good for communicating your needs to us. You have nothing to apologize for.”
“And can we take the cuffs off? My shoulders are starting to hurt,” you clarified.
“Of course,” Crosshair affirmed, unlocking the cuffs and bringing your arms down slowly so as to not cause any more pain. Hunter massaged your shoulders, alleviating some of the pain that had built up there. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the break in activity when Crosshair came back over to the bed, buttplug in hand. “Think you’re up for this?”
You thought for a moment before responding, “Not tonight.”
“Look at you, setting boundaries. Such a good girl,” Hunter praised. “Is there something that we can do that you want to try? Another toy, a different position?”
“What does our filthy little cockslut want to try next?” Crosshair added, reaching over and tugging on your hair a bit.
“I wanna come,” you begged. “I need to come so bad, please-”
“Shhh, we’ll take good care of you,” Hunter reassured, taking you in his arms. He sat back against the bed frame, pulling you with him and depositing you on his lap with your legs bracketed outside his own, legs spread wide so that Crosshair could see how wet and swollen your pussy was.
“Wanna be a good girl and give Crosshair a show?” Hunter murmured in your ear. “Show him how pretty you look when you come on my fingers?”
“Yes sir,” you moaned, desperate to finally get your release. Normally, Hunter would take his time worshiping every inch of your body before even considering going down on you, but he knew how badly you needed to come. He brought his hand down to your aching pussy, circling around your clit a few times before massaging your entrance and slowly pushing a finger in. You gasped, grinding and clenching down on his finger.
“Such a little whore, so desperate and aching just from one finger,” Crosshair chided, laser focused on where Hunter’s finger disappeared inside you. Hunter pushed a second finger in with the first and began curling them against your g-spot, making you see stars and squirm around in his lap. He wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you close to him, whispering, “You’re doing so well, letting me finger you like this. Let’s get you that orgasm, yeah?”
All you could do was nod as you felt yourself hurtling forward, getting closer and closer to finishing. Hunter dipped his head down to suck a hickey into your neck as he kept fingering you, feeling you get closer and closer to your orgasm.
As you felt yourself reaching your peak, you tried to let them know that you were about to come, but given that the only noises you could make were senseless babbles, they figured it out pretty quickly. Once you hit your peak, you felt your entire body clench, losing all control and surrendering to the all-consuming pleasure Hunter was giving you. It felt as if every nerve ending in your body had been set alight, blazing from head to toe, and you could do nothing but take it all in. The whole time, you could vaguely make out Hunter whispering in your ear “that’s it,” “good girl,” “you look so sexy coming all over my fucking fingers.”
Eventually, you came down from your high, trying to regulate your breathing. Crosshair leaned in and captured your lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss before pulling away, looking into your eyes, and muttered, “slut” before giving you a quick kiss to the forehead.
Once you’d fully regained control of your bodily functions, Crosshair asked, “Color?”
“Green,” you replied, eager to see what was next.
“I think you’re finally ready for my cock, and I know your slutty pussy agrees with me,” he smirked. He looked to Hunter, who turned you around and put you on your hands and knees, ass in the air, just the way Crosshair likes it. Crosshair maneuvered himself behind you, taking in the view before giving your ass a couple good, hearty slaps that you knew would be visible come morning. Sliding the tip of his cock through your folds a few times, he eased himself into you slowly, giving your body time to adjust to him. He bottomed out for a moment before pulling out and thrusting back in again. Crosshair was known for being rough, and this was no exception.
With every thrust, your body slid a little bit farther up the bed until your face was buried in the pillows. His grip on your hips was so strong you knew those would leave marks, too. Crosshair absolutely loved marking you up, especially in places most people wouldn’t get to see. As he pounded into you, he grabbed your hair and pulled you against his back, biting your throat and saying, “Little fucking cockslut, just waiting to be filled up and turned into a fucking cum dumpster.”
As Crosshair could feel your walls fluttering around him, he knew you were close, so he slid a hand down to your clit and rubbed precise circles over it. Before you could respond, your orgasm took you by surprise, walls clamping down over Crosshair’s cock. He kept pounding into you, chasing his own high, sending you into overstimulation. All you could do was cry out and claw at whatever parts of his body you could reach. As he reached his high, he pulled out and came on your ass, watching as your cheeks became adorned with white.
Pulling away, Crosshair laid you back down onto the bed as Hunter approached. “Fuck, you looked so pretty coming all over his cock like that. You got one more in you?”
“Yes, please, let me come on your cock, too,” you begged.
“Still so desperate to be filled, hmm? You want to be Hunter’s little cum dumpster?” Crosshair teased.
“Yes, oh fuck yes,” you babbled. Hunter moved you so that you were on your back with your legs over his shoulders, cock poised at your entrance when he asked, “Color?”
“Green,” you breathed. Without another word, he pushed into you, filling you up. Sure, Crosshair was longer, but Hunter was certainly thicker, and you still needed a bit of time to adjust to his size. He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead as if he wasn’t buried balls deep inside you, showing his soft side.
“Fuck, you always take my cock so well,” Hunter moaned as he started to fuck you. You could feel him stretching you out, the breath getting knocked out of you with every thrust. As you lay there being repeatedly impaled on his cock, Hunter couldn’t help but reach out and wrap a hand gently around your neck. Not hard enough to actually restrict airflow, but just enough pressure to assert dominance. You, on the other hand, wanted him to choke you, so you put your hand on top of his and pushed so he would know to add pressure. He groaned and exerted a bit more pressure on your neck, adding that much more pleasure to what you were already experiencing.
For the final time that night, you reached your high, coming all over Hunter’s cock. You could tell he was getting close, too; his thrusts were harder and more erratic. Before long, you could feel his cum filling you up as he finished inside you. Stilling inside you, Hunter tilted his head and kissed one of your legs as you smiled up at him, pussy still twitching from your orgasm. He slowly pulled out of you, taking your legs and resting them back on the bed. Crosshair came over with a damp cloth to clean you up with, and Hunter grabbed some more water for you, knowing you’d be thirsty again.
The two of them knew how to take care of you during sex, and they made sure to pamper you afterwards. Even though you didn’t dare say it out loud, you loved the both of them so much; however, what you didn’t know was that they felt the same about you.
#the bad bois#the bad batch#crosshair bad batch#hunter bad batch#crosswhore#clone trooper crosshair#crosshair smut#crosshair#crosshair x reader#crosshair x you#tbb crosshair x you#tbb crosshair x reader#crosshair x reader smut#hunter x reader smut#sergeant hunter#hunter x reader#hunter#hunter tbb#sergeant hunter x reader#star wars x reader
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I know you see those tweets that are like “X% of this minority group voted for trump.” I know you’ve seen it a few times since the election. I just saw a tweet about “64% of Native Americans voted for trump.” Then there’s this “let’s blame the Palestinians” bs. Hmmm. You know what we aren’t focusing on when we do that. That majority of the people who voted for him are white! This is a very clear tactic to have y’all infighting and not seeing what’s clear as day. The common denominator is white people. Any minority who voted him in are a fraction of the whole equation. 74% of the white men who voted (if not more I can’t remember) voted for trump. Of the white women who voted at least 69% voted for him. So maybe just maybe, focus on the real picture-white supremacy. Also those stats? Who’s coming up with those numbers? Indigenous Americans experience some of the highest amounts of voter suppression and you believe “64%” of them voted for him? Please remember what Malcolm X said, “if you control the media, you control the mind.” Think critically and remember to stop letting yourselves be used as a weapon for the west. At the end of the day, all of this is a shit show. Desiring personal comfort over global release is a sign of rampant individualism. This isn’t just about us. It’s about the dismantling of white supremacy.
#us politics#amerikka#donald trump#us elections#voting#kamala harris#down with empire#though you can’t dismantle a falling house#it’s going to come down anyway#so holding onto the shingles will give you splinters#let it go!
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Okay this is probably very “old man yelling at clouds” of me but why do I feel like some of the new generation of lis fans didn’t actually play the games but saw a bunch of pricefield fanart and got hooked without really getting into it??
I mean you don’t have to play it at least watch a let’s play or something
This is mostly directed at fans who treat max and Chloe as each others arm candy instead of their own individual characters
I’m from the old days of the fandom and lowkey miss the creativity and and love we used to have for the world building as a whole,
I don’t think fandom is dead necessarily, far from it tbh but I do think that some of the newer younger fans project themselves way too much on Chloe and seem to take it as a personal slight when narrative conflict threatens her relationship with max or when raise valid criticism on how the character was handled
For example: in the Welcome to Blackwell Academy book I pointed out Chloe’s mocking Victoria for getting roofied in BtS and said that it felt out of character for her to make light out of a situation like this given what she went through
And I had this weirdo fan of hers come at me like I was the one who ran over her dad or something, it was embarrassing to see someone act like that
Chloe isn’t real, none of them are real- these are clumps of pixels, we can love and get attached to them but don’t take it too fcking personally when someone makes valid points- it’s not the end of the world if someone doesn’t like your fave (don’t get me wrong I love chlo I just don’t like BtS and how they handled some things)
Like I want to see more fanart/fanficition/shitposting than dumb arguments with the developers and infighting, I swear to god on the subreddit someone told me that their only outlet of consuming pricefield content is by arguing online about it being canon or not
….. what the heck happened y’all? We used to create fan web shows, fan games, fan comics- heck fan animation
Arguing excessively online isn’t a healthy way to consume media
#life is strange#lis#lis fandom#victoria chase#max caulfield#kate marsh#chloe price#rachel amber#pricefield#chasemarsh
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I hate when people say “I wish I was nonverbal”
Cause no, you don’t. A lot of nonverbal people are nonverbal/nonspeaking from birth. They had to work hard to get to the place where they are now where their communication needs are accepted, and sometimes they’re still not. From working hard to even get an AAC device, or AAC of any kind (letter boards, low tech, etc), some don’t even have access to any type of AAC, and they need to be talked about as well.
I think people automatically assume when they hear about nonverbal/nonspeaking people, that they are automatically accepted, given a high tech AAC device, their support needs are accepted, they’re given bodily autonomy, etc. and this isn’t the case for the majority of Nonverbal/Nonspeaking individuals. The nonspeaking/nonverbal individuals that you see online that do have these, are very lucky, and are a minority of people. Nonverbal/Nonspeaking people are automatically seen as less then. Some are misdiagnosed with intellectual disability, some are told they’d never be able to handle AAC, therefore they don’t, even if they are able to handle it, no one has just tried.
Wishing you were nonverbal/nonspeaking does not automatically give you everything you want. You want the good parts of it. You don’t want the reality and bad parts of it. You don’t want the autonomy taken away, you don’t want to be underestimated, you don’t want to be institutionalized or put in group homes, you don’t want any of that. You want the small bit that you see on the internet from later in life nonverbal/nonspeaking people. Who have access to AAC, who are able to write fluently or semi-fluently, who are able to form their opinions on the internet, who have supportive parents or caregivers or friends, who don’t have their autonomy stripped away. Who aren’t forced under guardianship. You want that. And that isn’t the reality. Y’all need a reality check because that isn’t how it is for 99.9% of nonspeaking/nonverbal people.
You want to be understood. You want to use your AAC device when you need it. You want to have supportive parents. And you deserve that. However, being nonverbal/nonspeaking doesn’t bring any of that. It isn’t a packaged deal. It isn’t something that every nonspeaking/nonverbal person has. You’re completely missing the point. You’re completely missing about what nonverbal/nonspeaking people say. You’re missing the horrors that we share. The stories about harassment, bullying, abuse, neglect, etc etc.
Relying on a device and other people to communicate isn’t for the weak. It isn’t sunshine and rainbows. It’s HARD. It’s absolutely infuriating. To rely on other people all the time, to rely on a device or alternative method of communication, it’s hard. It doesn’t replace verbal speech. The world wasn’t built for nonverbal/nonspeaking people. It just wasn’t.
Stop saying this. It’s time for some reflection. Ask yourself why you’d want to cause yourself more hardships. Ask yourself why you aren’t listening to actual nonverbal and nonspeaking people. Ask yourself that then get back to me.
#zebrambles#autism#actually autism#actually autistic#aac#aac user#nonverbal#actually nonverbal#nonspeaking#actually nonspeaking
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I’ve noticed this somewhat common phenomenon in some ZoSan artists—at least on Tumblr—where the artist likes Sanji much more than they do Zoro.
It’s not an issue of liking Sanji, everyone is entitled to like the characters they like. But it kind of makes me wonder if some of the fan content is less about the ship itself with both of the characters and more about Sanji having someone to kiss?
This isn’t meant to be accusatory, I just see this kind of thing in a lot of fandoms. I’m curious as to why people ship characters if they’re not passionate about both of them as individuals before their relationship.
Do you guys have any thoughts on this? Do you understand what I’m trying to say or am I misinformed/misinterpreting something?
This is all /gen, I think this is interesting and want to talk about it with y’all
#one piece#my post#sanji#zoro#op#black leg sanji#roronoa zoro#zosan#one piece discussion#op zosan#one piece zosan#sanzo#zoro x sanji#sanji x zoro#sanji is not a vinsmoke#discussion post#at least I hope it will be
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Full Harvest Moon in Pisces ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card
The Full Harvest Moon, known also as the Singing Moon, was in Pisces on 18 September. It was a partial lunar eclipse and carried a massive Healer Archetype aenergy about it. After all, it was a supermoon in the sign of self-undoing and martyrdom :P It ushered in a deeply reflective time to ponder upon the suffering of Mankind in this all too often unfair world.
‘You’re not yourself when you’re triggered. You become who you think you need to be to survive. If we remain in environments that trigger our fight or flight mode, our identity starts to slip away because our values and personalities are constantly being hijacked by thoughts of fear, panic and survival.’ – some pin on Pinterest
It is unfortunate(?) but it is a significant part of Reality that each and every individual existing within this Matrix is suffering in their own wildly unique ways. Perhaps this is why the Buddha’s whole ass brand revolved around suffering—not to glamourise its concept but to maintain a semblance of awareness of its existence; and how that very thing alone shapes each person’s perception of Reality. Such an awareness...usually, breeds empathy. And that is precisely what this Full Singing Moon in Pisces theme is all about~🥰
‘When I was a novice, I could not understand why, if the world is filled with suffering, the Buddha has such a beautiful smile. Why isn’t he disturbed by all the suffering? Later I discovered that the Buddha has enough understanding, calm, and strength; that is why the suffering does not overwhelm him. He is able to smile to suffering because he knows how to take care of it and to help transform it. We need to be aware of the suffering, but retain our clarity, calmness, and strength so we can help transform the situation. The ocean of tears cannot drown us if karuna (compassion) is there. That is why the Buddha’s smile is possible.’ – Thich Nhat Hanh; excerpt from The Buddha’s Smile
SONG: Fine on the Outside by Priscilla Ahn
MOVIE: When Marnie Was There (2014)
deck-bottom: XVII The Star Rx, Red Historian (John Dee) & Priestess of Protection
[Moon PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Pile 1 – Deliciously Enjoying Your New-World-Building
e m p a t h y – 3 of Pentacles
There was a time, you built a world up from the ground, with people you thought were your people. Or at least, you thought you wanted to build a world around or with these people. But then you became disillusioned. You realised they were ungrateful, or perhaps, they didn’t quite see the world the way you did. What you thought they wanted similarly as you, in the end turned up to be quite the contrary. Then you realised the Universe had all along planned for y’all to grow differently~
Now you’re done with that old paradigm where you’d been too helpful towards those unworthy of your companionship, or even compassion. Facing forward, you now know that the most important thing is to surround yourself with people of similar ‘values’ and not just ‘goals’ or ‘ambitions’. Spiritual values go far deeper than just shared economy LOL ‘Corporate goals’ or whatever some such 3D-based nonsense. None of that interests you at this point in your spiritual evolution. You want something bigger, more awesome in meaning!
m e r c y – 5 of Cups
You’re still healing or just fresh out of spiritual rehab from this feeling of having lost people and whatnot. But it’s all good because, ‘The peace I have now is worth everything I’ve lost.’ If you’re truly honest with yourself, I’m sure you’re actually glad to have lost these losers. You know deep inside they would’ve never been able to survive what you’ve survived. In many ways, you also know these small minds were never destined for the greatness that you know is just around the corner for you~!
So I think, right now you’re still balancing your thoughts and emotions. There’s another quote that says: ‘Sometimes your heart needs some more time to accept what your mind already knows.’ And that perfectly captures the aenergy you’re currently swimming in. But look around—wow, isn’t it peaceful? The clouds are finally parting and your world is warm again <3
c o m m i s s a r y – 2 of Pentacles
After having gone through the mental struggle you’ve had to deal with, you’re stronger and fiercer in your capacity to deal with bullshit. I see that you’re quicker to deflect someone’s disrespectful behaviour and you’re not tolerating people acting out at the expense of your peace of mind anymore. Back in those days, you compromised so much of your own values to accommodate people’s ‘feelings’ but you’ve realised now that those very people often didn’t think about your feelings or how they’d put you in an awkward situation.
This FM in Pisces, you’re gaining a deeper layer of understanding of the mechanism of the crazies you’ve had to deal with up until fairly recently. I’ve this feeling that you’re dealing with the last remnants of those heartbreaks. You’re not going to ever deal with these thoughts and feelings anymore, so think about them for the last time and bid farewell for good~ From here onwards, you’re peacefully enjoying a new new-world-building without those crickets, so~ HAHAH <3
full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘
Gold Astronomer (John Dee) & Priestess of Patience
Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Pile 2 – Done ‘Experimenting’ with Bullshit/Sorrow
e m p a t h y – Page of Wands
Oh, this is the ‘empathetic weirdo’ pile! You must be a Pisces in some way LMAO
This is a very strange aenergy in which you’ve been in this phase of ‘exposing’ yourself to bullshit and suffering in the grander scheme of the Human Experience. You’ve been ‘assuming’ this role of an experimenter or some such, exposing yourself to some degree of toxic experiences for ‘research purposes.’ It was imperative that you had firsthand experiences with various-but-specific kinds of bullshit surrounding this whole Matrix World, all so that you know how to dissolve them once and for all through the act of alchemical transmutation.
You’re a natural transmuter of ‘negative constructs of Reality’, believe it or not. The whole idea of your ‘little experiment’ was for you to have a hands-on experience with certain aspects of suffering within this Matrix, so that you’d be able to ‘vote down’ on qualities that you do not like. In this way, you may resonate with being a Blue-Ray Starseed or a Crystal/Rainbow Child of a Lightworker~
m e r c y – King of Pentacles
Yes, you’re a part of the board members that are able to give your ‘disagreement’ upon negative qualities that are commonplace in this Earth Matrix. The magical thing about your very existence here is that as long as you DISAGREE with something, anything that’s wrong/undesirable about this world, it immediately dissolves. Well, depends on what you’re disagreeing with, but eventually it all dissolves with your dislike and disagreement. You’re just that powerful, you capable but dehydrated bitch~ XD
If you’re ever interested in becoming a public speaker, a content creator, or a whatever else what will allow you to reach, connect and convey your epiphanies to a larger audience, all the more wonderful. You’re meant to be heard and listened to—you’re too wise to live an offline existence in this era of digital connectivity ;P You have a power within you that can potentially encourage and motivate others to co-create a more positive Reality for themselves through their own power of agreeing and disagreeing with bullshit ^o^v
c o m m i s s a r y – 2 of Wands
Anyway, you’re now done experimenting, babe~ I see you. You’ve suffered enough in the name of commiserating with ‘normies’. In some ways, you might’ve also just been breaking generational curses and karma. But that’s all mostly over now! You’ve known enough; you’ve gained enough data/information for building perspectives; you’ve studied enough for an entire lifetime. You’ve exposed yourself to enough of the horrors of the world; now you can clean up and return to your natural state of paradise and peace.
You can still do the magickal work of spiritually transmuting the world’s bullshit from your natural habitat of high-speed manifestation. But now, you’re not a commiserator anymore; not a soldier anymore—you’re a billionaire philanthropist hahahah You see, you have the know-how, the resources and the power to help, but you don’t have to suffer together. Celebrate in this return! You’re YOU again! You’re your true Divine You again!
full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘
Silver Alchemist (Ramon Llull) & Priestess of Inspiration
Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
Pile 3 – You Can Now Eat the Cake, Too
e m p a t h y – Ace of Pentacles Rx
More than even Pile 2, you seem to have dealt with an even greater amount of lack throughout your Life. This may be a financial lack for some, but for the most part, this Pile is really talking about a general lack of proverbial SUNSHINE! It almost feels like you’ve never truly been happy or free practically your entire Lyfe! Maybe some of you will resonate with being this way for a long time instead of an entire Life XD Yeah anyway, that was the spiritual lesson, which may have been a carry-on from some previous incarnations~
But now, you’re fucking done. You can have the cake and eat it, too! You know why? Because you’re a goddamn cake factory, that’s why! You’re now able to produce endless amounts of cakes and that’s the secret to your abundance for the remainder of your days. But you’re not greedy either, so the Universe really favours that, too! And sometimes, you always have cakes around because you have other people giving you cakes~ \`★_★`/
m e r c y – 5 of Pentacles Rx
To be quite honest, in a weird way, this aenergy is making me think of royal families LMAO Like these ‘royal’ fuckers ain’t do nothin’ but they keep receivin’. They keep having the best of everything with taxpayers’ munny tsk tsk… I know you ain’t a fucker like ‘em, but this is just the image that comes to mind LMAO It’s a vibe that’s giving ‘Universe’s favourite’ or ‘I get paid for just existing’ and all some such. But unlike evil ‘royals’ on Earth, you’ve achieved this level of abundance because you’ve tapped into your Spiritual Royalty consciousness~ ♥︎
Right now, I’m seeing you take care of your body, mentality, spirituality, sanity, but most of all, body. Yes, body and habits. You’re being asked/guided to re-build your healthy habits, your sane rhythm. You’re returning to old-but-positive habits that might’ve been robbed of you as you were surviving some of Life’s toughest challenges! Some habits or comfort activities you might simply have forgotten, and now you’re reclaiming them ^-^v
c o m m i s s a r y – IV The Emperor Rx
Many of you tuning into this have been deep in the process of dissolving an entire paradigm of lack caused by trauma, done by some ‘authority figures’ in your childhood, or younger years. This mostly has something to do with ‘discipline’? Or some sense of needing to be ‘humble’ and ‘regulated’ while in reality they were instilling a scarcity mindset in you. Very evil. Very manipulative. The whole time, these figures were never as ‘limited’ as they were shaping you to be.
You could’ve also been judged so harshly and unfairly, to a point where you became overly critical of even the smallest things about yourself. In your mind, there was this bullshit panopticon that was always policing your conducts, even your mind! In some sense, you could’ve struggled with having a ‘good girl syndrome’ kind of problem tsk tsk… Yeah, that’s all in the past though. This reading is literally just giving you validation and clarity ^-^v I promise you that your happy days are impenetrable now~♪
full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘
Red Geographer (Marco Polo) & Priestess of Happiness
Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸
☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.
[Moon PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]
#Moon Panda Pick A Pic#full moon#full moon reading#full moon in pisces#pick a card#pick a card reading#tarot pick a card#pac#pac reading#tarot pac#tarot#tarotblr#astrology#astroblr#witchythings#witchblr#empathy#pisces#starseed#lightworker
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Incorrect Statements about Fenrir
(Not calling names or pointing fingers. If anyone starts drama then that’s on them.)
“Fenrir is nothing but a wild animal.”
And this is exactly why wolf culls happen. In the year 2024, when we have proof of animals having individual cultures and possibly religions (see corvids, elephants and monkeys), proof wolves will do everything they can to avoid us, and more than enough proof of their social hierarchy, you’d think this sentiment would’ve died by now. But nope. If Fenrir is a wolf, do forgive me for suspecting he acts like a fucking wolf.
“Fenrir will keep you at arms length.”
Back to the point of wolves being scared of people; if he’s keeping you at arms length, it’s probably cause he doesn’t trust you. And there’s only one reason he wouldn’t trust you; you don’t trust him. I know, shocker! A wolf who has learned to avoid people who treat him with hate, fear and ire avoids people who treat him with hate, fear and ire. Who would’ve thought?
“Fenrir is like a military boot camp.”
Tell me you think of Fenrir as just bloodthirsty without telling me you think of him as just bloodthirsty. I suspect this goes back to the idea of snarling, child-killing, Black muscular hulks of beasts that has been run into the ground as a stereotype. He may be stern and thorough, but he’s not a military drill sergeant. He is not aggression and macho-hyper-masculinity.
“Fenrir is evil.”
Wolves are keystone species. If you take them out, the entire ecosystem collapses. Ask Yellowstone how it found out. Fenrir isn’t evil in the same way Odin isn’t good. There’s no “good vs bad” in Heathenry, merely actions and consequences. Cut it out.
“Fenrir will not comfort you.”
When a wolf dies in a pack, the entire pack mourns. Some packs will break apart after the deaths of the breeding pair. If one of the breeding pair dies, the other mourns. Even after misbehaving members are corrected wolves will give them affirming licks to remind them they are family. What makes you think Fenrir wouldn’t apply to any of this? What makes you think that if a follower, a member of his pack, is suffering that he’ll just sit on the side and watch?
Funny thing is, if I said any of these sentiments but with one of the Aesir I’d get instant clap back.
“Thor is just a drunk swinging a hammer during temper tantrum.” - Not true at all; none of these define him. So why then is Fenrir shoved in a books of assumptions?
“Heimdall will keep you at arms length.” - For what reason? If y’all trust each other, what would be the problem?
If you wouldn’t say it about the Aesir or Vanir, then don’t say it about Fenrir either. Quit trying to paint him as a demon or devil.
#fenrir#fenrir pagan#norse paganism#norse pagan#paganism#norse heathen#heathenry#pagan#it’s a late night for me so I’m going through my drafts and uploading a few
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