#just a small part of something bigger I've been working on
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
Do you have any advice on making a living working in historic preservation? I feel like every opportunity in the field (ex. Local historical societies) is volunteer work, which I do, but I also need money!
:)
:) :) :) :)
I am so sorry but you've hit upon the main employment problem with this field: it is wildly underpaid. Especially if you want to do something with museum content/collections/preservation rather than admin.
The issue is, this system (at least in the US, where I live) started out in the late 19th century being run by people who had a lot of free time and a LOT of money already. Married upper-class women, rich men- often gay, interestingly enough -with academic turns of mind, etc. They didn't need the money, so they built a structure designed to function that way. And for many years a lot of this work continued to be done by volunteers.
Except then people came along with the audacity to want to make a career out of it. Without enough generational wealth to not need payment! Oh no!
So now there are not enough full-time jobs in the field for people who want them, unfortunately. They're out there! But you might have a hell of a time getting into one.
I'd say to look for bigger orgs over small ones, or small orgs in big cities. We love a tiny house museum in the middle of nowhere, but they often have the smallest budgets in a world of small budgets. Also, consider starting out part-time and trying to work your way up (just make sure the org has full-time employees first). Making connections is paramount- I've only had part-time museum jobs so far, but I never got a single one just by applying online. You can, but it helps a lot to have someone say "hey, the Fancyman-Spinsteracademic-Wepromisewe'rereckoningwithslaverynow House is hiring; want me to put in a good word for you?"
Alternately, learn some hands-on preservation skill like carpentry or horology (working with mechanical clocks- PLEASE learn horology if you go this route; all the horologists are 80 and they keep dying) could be a way to get specific talents that historical site museums can't function without and will therefore pay for when the budget allows. In cities with lots of historical architecture that they actually care about preserving- so not NYC, apparently -there are often independent companies that specialize in different aspects thereof. Historical window repair, historical plastering, historical brickwork maintenance, etc. Trying to get hired by one of those is a way to go into preservation without working in museums. Private auction houses or antiques dealers can also be an option, if you're more into the Collections Objects side of things.
I don't mean to make it sound bleak. My eight-year career in museums has been entirely part-time collections/interpretation/admin jobs stitched together, and while I'm sick of the "underpaid and relying on my parents to pay for my insurance" aspect (yes, I freely admit it; I'm a lowkey continuation of the Can't Work In Museums If You Don't Have Family Financial Support tradition and very very lucky to be able to do what I do, and yet even I'M frustrated and tired and over it), it is deeply fulfilling work that I consider highly worthwhile and important. And there ARE avenues to make a decent living in it!
I just want to explain the phenomenon you're seeing and give you realistic expectations.
Best of luck!
72 notes
·
View notes
Text
massagers and misunderstandings
<sylus x fem!reader>
Haphazardly leaving your little toy in Sylus's room after your playtime wasn't part of the plan.
The good news is that the vibrator was in Sylus’s room.
The bad news is that the vibrator is currently in Sylus’s hands.
genre/warnings: smut, pwp, vibrator play x mirror sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex, sylus teasing the everloving shit out of you, breeding kink, (light) choking, dacryphilia, shit load of orgasms
w/c: 2.1k
a/n: shout out to the loml @rafsfishstick for helping me out with this and also giving me this fuck ass idea. Now y'all gna suffer with ME. you're welcome 🩷
Shit, shit, shit. Where is it?!
You've been flipping your whole bedroom upside down over an important missing device. You swore you kept it in the drawers of your room, or at least, you thought you did.
Unfortunately, it went over your head that staying with Sylus for extended periods had you getting very comfortable with leaving your belongings around.
Including your vibrator.
Well, Sylus didn't need to know about it.
In your defense, it was lonely in the mansion without him. And when you did miss him while he was gone, you'd sneak into his room (not that he minded), lie on his bed and let his scent just engulf you completely.
Well, you had your needs too.
And usually you'd just keep your vibrator in your room within the mansion.
And unfortunately for you, this was not one of your usual times.
When the realisation hit you that you in fact did absentmindedly stash your toy hastily in one of his drawers during one of the nights when he told you he'd be away from town for a while, you bolted to his room, hoping, praying, that Sylus hadn't reached his chambers before you did.
The good news is that the vibrator was indeed in Sylus’s room.
The bad news is that the vibrator is currently in Sylus’s hands.
Fuck me, you think, a million useless excuses flooding in and out of your mind.
Maybe you could knock him out and snag the toy from his fingers.
Yeah, like that could ever fucking work with his level of reflexes.
“Aren't you coming in, kitten?”
His usual pet name sends goosebumps flooding your skin.
“Good evening, Sylus”, you force a smile, trying to ignore the way he’s fidgeting with your vibrator.
“This wouldn't happen to be yours, would it?” He asks, dangling the silicone vibrator before you. “I've never seen you use it before.”
You could smack the smug look off his face if you had the chance to, but for now, you force a smile, reaching out to take the device from him.
“It's just a massager”, you lie horribly.
Of course he fucking shifts it away from your grasp.
He narrows his eyes at you and decorates his expression with a sharper smirk.
“Right, because massaging devices look unassuming like this, and you happen to decide to have a little massage session in my room?”
Fuck.
There's no way out of this.
His smirk fades. He puts an arm out to beckon you closer.
His eyes reflect tints of something else, like a reminder that you're about to turn into his prey.
And you can't help but always fall into his trap.
“Now, won't you show me how you use your little massager, sweetie?”
You watch him twirl the vibrator between his slender fingers, touching and feeling the buttons on his fingertips. He has your legs spread apart in front of him at the edge of the bed. You’re carefully observing your partner as it takes him barely a few minutes to figure your toy out when it buzzes to life.
“Don't look so scared, kitten. I'm not about to eat you”, the gaze Sylus is giving you says otherwise. Unfortunately, there's a twisted stem of anticipation that's slowly flooding your veins. You wonder what he's about to do to you, and it's getting you excited.
He smirks when his gaze lands on the small damp patch of fabric on your pussy. He wants to make it bigger.
Sylus grazes his knuckles against your clothes pussy, and it draws a gasp from you.
“I have to say, sweetie, your little massager here has quite the strong vibrations”, Sylus teases. His arm curls around your legs, pulling you slightly closer to him, before he presses the buzzing toy on your clothed pussy. Despite the fact that you knew it was coming, you still jumped from the sensation instantly.
You crunch your abdomen when you feel Sylus rolling the vibrator up and down your pussy, watching with sheer satisfaction at the way the dark patch on your pussy continues to grow darker and bigger.
“How does it feel, kitten?” He asks with a smile, and you're not sure if you're getting soaked from the vibrator or from Sylus eye fucking you.
“Tickles…” you force yourself to answer. You hear him hum from below, before your mind shuts off when he shifts the vibrator right to your clit, and applies pressure right there.
But it's not enough.
You know he's fucking with you. He's teasing you–especially when he intentionally lowers the vibration to a dull buzz, taking away the build up, only leaving you whining for more.
But at the moment where you're able to catch your breath, the vibration climbs in levels again, leaving you fisting the sheets and his shirt. Sylus removes his arm around your thigh, and hooks a slender on the damp piece of fabric, tugging it outwards.
“Should we get this out of the way, sweetie? It's bothering you isn't it?”
You nod, still trying to regulate your breathing, your mind racing at the thought of Sylus being the one pressing your vibrator on your bare, wet, sticky pussy.
He lets you close your legs to roll the panties off your hips, only to disappear behind you for a split moment.
His husky voice rings in your ears.
“Open, sweetie.”
You feel his fingers brush on your chin, and he gestures to you to face the front.
You're facing the mirror.
The view of your legs spread open, the sight of your glistening pussy right before your reflection makes you swallow hard.
Sylus’s finger slither down to your sopping folds, spreading your pussy open.
“So fucking pretty for me, aren't you?”
Your fingers clutch tightly against his shirt, the desperation for him to do just anything coming out as a beg when you whisper to him, “please, Sylus.”
His other hand switches on the vibrator once more, and he aims it right on your fucking clit. It makes you jump, and before you realise it, your orgasm hits you–white engulfing your vision, the pleasure shooting through your veins at lightning speed and your pussy uselessly and desperately clenching the air. Sylus captures your lips with his, eating your fucked out moans while he drags your orgasm out, rolling the toy in circles around your clit, collecting the sheer wetness with his fingers and vibrator.
He pulls the vibrator off you, at least, momentarily, to let you descend from your high.
Sylus watches you through the mirror–you, in tears, a small puddle just under where you're sitting and just a creamy fucking mess your pussy is.
“So this was what you were doing when I was gone?”
He watches the way your ears turn red.
Sylus’s fingers keep you staring at him through the reflections.
“I got lonely when you weren't here…”
“Right. I'm sorry for that, sweetie. I should make it up to you, hm?”
You couldn't even proceed to ask him how before he lifts you onto his lap, and the view before you makes you swallow harder–his cock just resting against your bare pussy.
His lips are pressed against the shell of your ear.
“If I told you that I crave so fucking much to just see you the moment I leave, would that leave your mind at ease?”
“No”, you mutter, then gasp when he presses his dick along your folds, dragging his cock so painfully slowly against your pussy. “Nothing is enough if it's not you being here in the flesh.”
He chuckles–it feels warm and it spreads through all over your body.
“Greedy kitten”, is all he replies before he stretches you open, taking the gorgeous sight of you completely falling apart for him as he fits his cock in you.
“That’s a good girl for me. You're taking me so well. Fuck, look at you swallowing me up”, he groans, greedily wanting to just keep all the wet warmth for himself.
It has been a couple of long weeks since he was gone, and fuck was his cock quite a stretch. He fills you up so fucking good every single time.
He listens to you sigh shakily, trying to adjust. He feels the way you're squeezing his thighs with your hand.
You feel so good around him. You feel so good for him.
You hiccup when you feel Sylus thrusts his cock right into you again. You're so fucking overstimulated, your sensitivity climbing up in hundreds, but Sylus still trails the vibrator across your clit in pulses, making your head fall back against his shoulders, your moans bouncing off the walls of his room. It doesn't help that he's forcing you to soak in the sheer perversion of view that's presented before you.
“You're squeezing me so much, kitten”, he hisses into your ears when he feels your pussy clench around him once more. He's in fucking heaven.
But of course, he loves playing with his prey a little more.
The moment he feels you start flutter, he lifts the vibrator off your clit. It makes you gasp.
Then he thrusts his hips upwards, pressing against your sensitive spots. You watch the way his cock just disappears in you, all the way in, and it's starting to make you light-headed.
“Can your little vibrator make you make that face, kitten?”
You see the tear stains that streak down your face, your eyes still watery. Fuck, of course it doesn't.
“Maybe”, you answer shakily, and you watch his eyes fucking glow right before you in the mirror.
Sylus laughs.
“I guess I should change that, right?” He responds. His fingers are now on your throat, and his other hand lay flat on your thigh.
“Then I'd better make sure I make you see fucking stars. Fuck you hard and good, right?”
His fingers tighten around your throat.
Sylus is a fucking menace.
You don't even remember the existence of your vibrator. Not when Sylus is fucking the ever-loving shit out of you from below, and that you're watching it through the fucking mirror–every thrust detailed perfectly under the lights, his fingers cutting oxygen from you from time to time.
He's forcing you to cum with his dick.
And it's fucking working..
Much thanks to the horrible edging he's done to you, you're a fucking overstimulated mess–so sensitive and broken that when you're about to flood, you're begging him.
“Gonna cum, Sylus, please. I'm gonna cum so much. Fuckkkk-”
It fountains out of you and pushes him out, spraying all over the mirror and the sheets. You don't know what Sylus is muttering in your ears but you know he's fucking slapping your pussy, more fluids spraying out to his satisfaction.
After the clear fluids, only the thick cream comes after, and Sylus doesn't hesitate to slide his cock back in, filling you up once more, cream settling and slicking down his shaft with every thrust. Your thighs are still twitching from how fucking good it feels.
“Have I told you that I adore ruining you so much? Because I do adore ruining you so much, sweetie”, he groans. His face contorts in pleasure so fucking beautifully in the mirror while he bottoms out in you, his cock twitching and letting thick streams of warm cum filling you up. He lets himself stay in your pussy for a second or two, before he pulls out, only a thin string of cum linking his cock and your pussy.
Sylus forces you to watch his fingers once again pull open your pretty folds, and thick white seeps out of your hole in loads.
You see him plant a kiss on your temple before he effortlessly scoops you up to wash up with him.
You swear you didn’t leave it in his room this time round. You learned your lesson. When Sylus had his butler change out the soiled sheets, you had pocketed back your vibrator and kept it in a safe part of your room so Sylus wouldn’t get his hands on it again.
At least, that’s what you thought, because the vibrator seemed to have disappeared again.
Shit, did you have to intrude into Sylus’s room again? Well sure, he was gone for a couple of days, so you used his bed for a couple of days…but you were sure as hell that you brought the vibrator back with you when you on the day Sylus came back.
Unsuccessful with the search in Sylus’s room, you return back to yours, wondering if the mansion had just sucked up the vibrator into thin air.
That is, until you see Sylus on your bed.
With your vibrator in his hands.
#l&ds sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#l&ds smut#love and deep space smut#love and deep space sylus#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#sylus#sylus x reader#sylus qin#qin che
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
F***ing FINALLY!!! I've been looking for stuff with a Reader saving Dogday since he's been introduced and I've only got like, three so far-
And I want this Reader to be resourceful, using anything to patch Dogday up(including scraps of Miss Delight's dress)
I hear your calls <3
...............
"You're wasting precious time, angel. Poppy needs you. I'm only gonna slow you down. Just leave me here, and tell her I'm-"
"You'll get to tell her that yourself, Dogday. Because I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna help you whether you like it or not."
With a huff, you used the grabpack to wheel in a cart filled with an assortment of items you picked up around the Playcare area: doll parts, plush felt, metal bars, and even Dogday's other missing leg, which you have miraculously found in the playhouse.
You did your best to stitch them back onto his body, although the real challenge was fixing them up first--considering how badly they got mangled by the smaller Smiling Critters. Through sheer luck, you were still able to recognize them as his legs.
And conveniently, you've retained some of your craftsmanship skills from your days working with Playtime Co.
You were given some praise for being able to speedily patch up broken and torn-up toys, but you've never touched upon any of the "Bigger Bodies" despite seeing similar injuries on them. They simply never gave you that clearance, and dealing with blood and organs (and possible death) was something way above your paygrade.
But with Dogday, you were able to apply similar techniques you used in doll repair. You made patches out of Miss Delight's polka-dot dress to cover up any tears, and you created small mechanisms to put inside his legs that would (hopefully) enable him to walk again.
It was like you were performing a surgical operation..
Except, well..that's exactly what was going on.
Despite your unwavering determination--and the fact that you succeeded in reattaching one leg to him so far--he insisted that you were only putting yourself at risk trying to help him.
Hell, you nearly got torn apart by those little Smiling Critters who chased you both down, being scared off by the flares you shot at them. He didn't think you'd have enough..but by the grace of god, you did. And you escaped and found a safe place where Kissy Missy and Poppy were also hiding out.
Not only did you finally get a breather, but also a chance to help one of the few toys left here who somehow didn't lose their humanity.
Even so, Dogday still feared for your safety.
"You know..this will only enrage Catnap, right?" He rasped, choking out a wet cough. "He'll know that I'm missing. And he'll know you have something to do with it.."
"Wait.." Pausing in your work, you glanced up at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Why would he care about where you are? Or better yet..why would he keep you alive at all?"
"...because I was his favorite."
"Huh..?"
"Before the Prototype became his sole focus, we did everything together." He explained somberly. "We helped the others fall asleep, stayed out of trouble. Catnap and I..we were like day and night. Two peas in a pod. He brands me a heretic now, but...somehow, I don't believe he likes doing so. Maybe..he hasn't forgotten our friendship, after all."
'Well, stringing someone up by belts and ripping off half their body doesn't sound like something a good friend would do..' You thought to yourself, although you understood where he was coming from.
Yet it didn't change the fact you still wanted to kill that stupid purple cat. Especially after he gave you that hellish nightmare of Huggy crawling out of a television.
"I know you wanna believe there's still good in him, but..he's long gone." You shook your head. "Those critters..they tried crawling inside your body, and he was just gonna allow it all because you didn't wanna follow the Prototype's will."
"........"
Silence was your only reply, but you decided to shift your focus back on repairing the other leg. Dogday allowed you to work, no longer protesting as he instead looked at the stitches on his arms, feeling grateful yet unworthy at the same time.
Him and the others...they were all monsters. He never killed a single human in his existence (or at least none that he could recall), but he felt like he was just as terrible as those who did.
Eventually, you finished, and his ears perked up at your sigh of relief as you set down your tools and pushed the cart away. "There we go. Try to stand up, but take it slow. Okay?"
He nodded, feeling quite nervous as he looked at his legs, before he slowly pushed himself off the ground. For a few moments, he was able to stand, but he wobbled a little and had to hold onto the nearest wall so he didn't lose balance.
'When was the last time I had my legs? It's been so long...'
Then he felt your grabpack's hands gently steady him, and soon enough he could stand on his own without their support.
You smiled and retracted them. "How do you feel?"
"Much better...thank you, angel." Dogday looked down at you, the corners of his wide smile turning further upwards. "You truly are something divine. You've come to heal us, mend all of our broken pieces, even when we do not deserve such kindness. How could I ever repay you?"
Right as you were about to respond, you heard sounds of plush feet moving and turned around, seeing Kissy and Poppy entering the room.
You didn't really he'd nearly be as tall as Huggy's spouse.
"You fixed him! What can't you do?" The redhaired doll gasped in awe, hopping onto Kissy's hand before she was carefully transferred over to Dogday's paws, stepping into them.
He held her gently, smiling. "Poppy."
"It's so good to see you, my friend." She smiled, although it was quick to disappear. "I thought all of you were gone."
"It's just me now, and...I'm....I-I'm...." He began to sniffle, his voice breaking as the weight of everything that's happened came crashing down. "I'm so sorry...I tried so hard, but...I-I failed! I couldn't protect them!"
Thin streams of tears seeped from the corners of his eyes, darkening the fur along his cheeks. "Kickin'...B-Bobby..they all died because of me! I was supposed to be their leader, but all I did was lead them to their demise! I-I should have joined them in-"
"There, there..it's going to be alright." Poppy softly hushed him, patting his arm in comfort. "You did your best to protect them given the circumstances. I promise we'll have our chance to avenge them. But you must live, for their sake..and for [y/n]'s sake, too. They went through a lot to fix you up."
"I know but..I-I'm so scared. I don't wanna face him alone-"
"You won't be alone, because I'm gonna take care of him."
With another sniffle, Dogday looked down at you, feeling you gently petting his ear as another comforting gesture. Your eyes held nothing but sympathy and heartache for this poor creature. "I'm sorry, but we have to put him down. It's the only way we can move forward."
"Are you sure?" He mumbled. "He's gotten more powerful, and hungry-"
"So were Huggy and Mommy, but I saw how [y/n] dealt with them..and they're more than capable." Poppy remarked. "But now that Catnap's onto them, they'll need all the protection they can get."
"Then..I'll do my best to help." He finally declared, smiling at you.
You blinked, surprised that he was willing to stand up against the one who tortured him. But you simply nodded and smiled back, watching as he returned Poppy to Kissy, before he turned back to you and crouched down.
He enveloped you in a warm hug, the vanilla scent still seeping from his suit and helping you feel more at ease.
"Thank you, Dogday." You chuckled, hugging him back.
"No..thank you, my guardian angel. I will follow you to the ends of the earth."
#clanask#poppy playtime x reader#poppy playtime dogday#dogday x reader#poppy playtime poppy#kissy missy#platonic#poppy playtime spoilers#hurt/comfort
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
You need more free art.
I quit my job yesterday. Well, actually I quit my job eight weeks ago, but they finally released me yesterday for good behaviour. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do - but I do it for the wrong reasons. Working for major charities, you learn very fast that 'I want to make the world a better place' is a phrase you use to ask people for money, not to give them things. I was an ass-backwards fit for that world.
You need more free art. I need more free art. Everyone has felt the shift in our media landscape over the last ten years, away from access and towards nickel-and-diming the human experience. That lack of access is making life and culture worse for all of us, across the board. Paywalled news sites leave us less informed, attacks on the Internet Archive leave us less capable of research. Algorithmic social feeds and streaming walled gardens trap us inside smaller and smaller demographic bubbles, where we are increasingly only likely to encounter ideas that have been curated for us by marketing departments. Hasty efforts to resist AI commodification have only led to more artists locking their work away and calling for even more onerous systems of copyright law. This is not good for us.
We all need more free art.
So what am I going to do about it?
This is a question I have been asking myself for years. It's easy to sit here feeilng frustrated and thinking 'boy I hope SOMEONE does SOMETHING'. It's harder to take action in a world where I still have rent to pay. But hard doesn't mean impossible. Sometimes hard just means time-consuming, frustrating and slow. And sometimes it's worth doing something time-consuming, frustrating and slow because...I want to make the world a better place.
I'm going to do this:
1. From April 1st, I am relaunching as a freelance writer and editor.
This is the one that will (hopefully) help to pay the bills. I am a very good and experienced editor. I've worked on hollywood movies, I'm a member of the Chartered Institute of Editors and Proofreaders, I have clients who have been coming to me exclusively for more than 10 years.
Alongside bigger contract jobs, I am going to refocus on offering my services to small-press creators at a reduced rate. That means you, graphic novelists. That means you, itch and amazon writers. I want to help you develop your work, the same way I help large organisations. You can learn more about what an editor even does and what kind of pricing you can expect here.
2. I'm also going to start giving shit away. Like, constantly.
Next week I'm going to launch a new free shop. If you're unfamiliar, a free shop, giveaway shop, swap shop, etc. is an anarchist tradition of setting up a storefront where anyone can take what they like for no cost. Offline, this often means second-hand clothes, tools, furniture, food etc. Online, I am going to be giving away digital art. Copyright-free, no strings attached. It will (eventually) feature everything from print-res posters to zines, poems, tattoo flash, t-shirt designs and anything else we come up with.
Yes, I said 'we' - while this is a curated collection, it will feature work from a variety of credited and anonymous artists and activists, all of whom have agreed to give their work away to the public domain. Some of it will be practical, some of it will be political, but a lot of it will be decorative or personal. This is, in part, a response to recent difficulty I had finding somewhere that would print a one-off joke poster for a friend that featured the word 'faggot'. Enough. No middlemen - no explaining ourselves. Just print our shit and enjoy it.
I'm very, very excited about this project. I'll have more to say about it closer to the launch, but you can expect it to go live on March 27th.
2.2 I forgot to mention the ACTUAL LAUNCH GIVEAWAY
To celebrate my launch, I am going to be giving away a ton of physical prints. When I went looking for my old stock to see if it was worth setting a new (paid) storefront up, I realised I had way more old work in storage than I thought. This will be announced in its own right on Monday, but this is why I've been hinting you should go follow my Patreon.
On April 1st, I will pick 8 random patrons (from across all tiers including non-paying followers!) and mail them a bundle of assorted prints and postcards. The prize pool includes A3 and A4 posters, packs of A6 postcards, and printed minicomics that I've previously sold for up to £12 each.
You don't have to be a paying subscriber to enter - this is strictly no-purchase necessary. It is purely and entirely a celebration of the concept of GIVING ART AWAY FOR FREE.
3. PORN, YOU PERVERTS
Because I still have to pay to stay alive, I am going to be subsidising all this free art with the introduction of Fuck You Fridays. Starting from March 29th, I will drop a new 18+ short story on the last Friday of every month, over on itch.io (yes I know my page is desolate right now, don't worry I'll get there).
The first edition, Go Fuck Yourself, is about, well - telling your boss where to stick it. Julia has had it with her millionaire man-child manager, and is just about ready to let him know what she really thinks. It's a short and steamy 5k words, with a gorgeous cover illustration by @taylor-titmouse, and you can pick it up for $3 starting from March 29th.
4. ANOTHER BIG SURPRISE
I'm keeping this one under wraps for now, but April 1st will also play host to one more (FREE) launch. If you've been following me for a long time, you might remember the other significance of this date (no not April Fool's day, though that is certainly thematically relevant to this entire effort). That's all I'll say right now. Watch this space.
tl;dr: I'm sick of paywalls and career ladders. I'm literally putting my money where my mouth is. More free art for everyone and I'm not kidding around!!!
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Not Tonight
[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Reader generally not having a good time.]
(Not proofread. Not too much Yandere shown. Mostly angst with Reader. Set up(?))
2nd chapter here. Chapter 3 Pt. 1, Pt. 2. [Series Masterlist]
๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑
How many times have you heard them say that? How many times have you tried to do something with them, to share your passion — or even just have some coffee with them, only to hear them say that phrase time and time again.
"Not tonight."
Well, what if you didn't ask them during the night? What if you asked them in the afternoon, or just when they were already up and about?
"Sorry! I can't right now, patrol reeeally kicked my ass last night. Besides, I have some other things that I have to get done, but maybe next time! For sure!"
Okay, right. That makes sense. Sometimes their line of work can be tough and draining, especially when someone is trying to run Gotham to the ground that night. So what if you just try to ask them when they aren't so busy? It may really limit the times you can ask... but you'd still try. Maybe it could also help if you asked for smaller things, like if they'd just like to spend a little time with you before going out again, or if you could just hang around them for a while? Nothing big, and anything was fine. Even if it was just sitting next to them, and having some small talk. Or maybe just the sitting part if talking was too much.
You'd take anything at all.
"I'm actually heading out right now, so I can't stick around. Go ask someone else."
"Can't you see that I already have enough compang with Titus here? Go bother Drake or something, I don't care."
All you could hear was snores past the door when you went to ask. So you moved onto someone else, hoping for a yes as your heart began to squeeze.
Someone had to agree eventually, right?
You begged the Gods as you traveled down the long halls. The chills of reality creeping up on you.
"Sorry, I'm going out to hang with some friends, but maybe next time!"
"..." She just looked at you before shaking her head, and taking her leave.
"I've got something to do at the moment, sorry, but hey, maybe you could ask your old man? Oh! Or maybe Alfred. That's a good idea."
Dick was out in Bludhaven, and you didn't want to bother Barbara considering how bisy she must've been the other night. So, you had no other choice. You asked, heart bleeding from how hard it squeezed.
"Not now."
Simple, to the point, and sharp.
Bruce's words were as cold as ever, and yet the echo in the cave only seemed to make the gap between you and him feel so much bigger. Even as you just nodded, eyes pointed to the floor. Taking your leave with a soft sigh that barely escaped you.
The elevator ride was longer than you remembered. The cold chill in the air grew freezing even as you stepped out, and now stood in one of the many halls in the Wayne Manor. Portraits and pictures decorated the walls, their painted and photographed eyes staring at you. Their gaze far from soft, but at least it was present. At least they, in that way, felt present.
You swore the only times they ever smiled at you that wasn't faked, or just for the sake of appearances was in those paintings and photos. Honestly, it was also probably the most times they've even looked at you too, and as sad as it is — you did say you'd take anything, right?
A 'no' or 'maybe' was part of that anything, technically. It's just not what you were hoping for.
Sighing again, you stared up at one of the portraits, eyes shinging under the lights as everything you refused to say made itself so clear for a moment. You didn't want much, and never asked for more than what you were given. You didn't think so anyway.
You always followed the rules, you did more than just excel in all your classes no matter how hard it was for you to understand certain things, and you even tried to get into things your family seemed to enjoy without pushing too hard.
You studied up on all the pets Damian had so that you could not only care for them properly, but maybe even take care of them with him some day. You played games and read reviews on games you saw Tim play just for a chance that maybe you'd get the opportunity to play with him. You picked up boxing and have even been practicing your aim with an airsoft gun, and have also been going to certain place when you could to practice using real guns and learn about them just so you'd maybe be able to have a conversation with Jason, and even connect with him in some way. You even read nearly all the books in the library just to have a sliver of hope for something, anything.
You learned sign language in three different languages and tried to find out what Cassandra was interested in, just to have some kind of interaction with her. Even writing on small note cards in serval other languages in hopes she'd give some kind of response, even if you forgot to put your initials and such more than several times. You participated in gymnastics in hopes of getting closer to Dick. You tried to find out what Barbra was into so you could also hold up a conversation with her if given the chance. You've tried to match Stephen's energy and do things she likes and have even taken up material arts as a means to maybe be a little closer with everyone!
Yet it never seems like enough.
Your schedule was so packed and filled with activities and extra lessons of all kinds, just so that you could feel like you had something in common with someone in this family. So that, when given the chance, you'd be able to form a connection with one of them and your efforts and sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. Though that still had yet to happen.
You weren't even a vigilante as you tried to persue your own passion and dreams, and yet that one single thing seemed to be keeping you away from everyone else. The one thing you were unwilling to do for them just seemed to make the gap between you and the rest of the family grow bigger. They're constant and continuous dismissals only seemed to further that point.
Just... what were you doing wrong? Was you not being a vigilante and constantly putting yourself at risk every night really putting that much of a dent in your relationships? Did your dreams really get in the way of that? Just because you didn't want to put yourself in danger? Just because you wanted to pursue music instead?
You took up art despite not being super interested in it before. You've been reading all of your life. Your stretched, ran, exercised, cooked, cleaned, organized, sang, wrote, danced, and even sculpted. You picked up almost any hobby someone could have under the sun, even if it began to feel like a chore and a job to you, just so that you could have something, anything in common with this family.
Though now you've gone through countless 'hobbies', and dropped many more since nothing seemed to be working, it... it still didn't feel like enough. Like you had to be doing something more despite having lost countless hours of sleep, just to go through the list of hobbies you had written down that you had left to try. You even took up some sports you were somewhat interested in, and yet nothing clicked.
Though is that really surprising when no one noticed how many times you snuck out for lessons and practice, or how long you were out? When you'd even forget to return to the Manor sometimes, and anyone still had yet to notice you were even gone in the first place?
... You couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. It was broken in every way, and yet empty all the same. Maybe you were finally taking after Bruce, but you wouldn't get your hopes up.
You looked up at the painting as if it'd give you all the answers, and yet dismiss you at the same time. The disappointment you felt was normal to you at this point, but the aching pain that came after was always the hardest part. Yet you still stared at the painted faces as if they were your real family, and the people close to them. Looked at the calculated and skilled brush strokes as if they'd give you what your family couldn't. What they refused to give you at every twist and turn, no matter how much you tried to accommodate to them. To do things for them. To just feel worthy enough to stand by their side. To be closer to them.
Though in the end, it is only that. A painting. A well crafted piece that, no matter how skilled the artist, could never truly capture how distant and vague they felt when you were the one standing to the side. No matter how much experience the painter had, they'd never be able to express and show how this poor excuse of a family felt to you, because they were only like that around you.
Maybe you'd feel special if it didn't make you feel like you were wasting your life living like this...
Eventually, you were able to tear you eyes away from the painting. The moon beginning to rise as you were sure the Manor was becoming more empty than it usually was, as more of its visitors and residents left.
The painting itself was nice even if it was one of many that didn't include you, with the number of photographs without you in them being much higher. Honestly, it used to be one of your favorites despite how bittersweet you feel about it now.
You still remember that day, but that would be implying that you forgot the others.
Regardless, you managed to pull yourself away from the spot you had been stuck in for the few moments you were trapped inside your own head. You tried to make yourself feel a little better, and give yourself some reassurance that maybe tomorrow would be different some how, and if not? Perhaps the day after, and the day after that.
Yet it all failed as you passed by more and more memories. Some were events you had participated in, sure, but the pictures made it look like you were never there in the first place. Heartwarming moments littered the halls, but you only recall seeing them from a distance — or being aware that the moment had even happened only when you saw the picture be put up.
It was like the very universe was trying to send you a sign with your constant failures and your family's persistence, intentional or not, to keep you at a distance. You didn't even know if it was appropriate to refer to them as your 'family', and maybe it wasn't considering things, but you still weren't sure.
You had been fighting for a chance to talk with any of them about anything at all for the longest time, because you wanted to be a part of this family. You wanted to spend time with them and really give this 'new life' of yours a chance, but now that 'new' part of this life had worn off. It was hard and honestly more draining than it was rewarding at this point, but you still wanted to give it a try.
Sure, it had been years at this point and now you were just about to go into college, and when you had first arrived here you weren't even middle school, yet little to no progress had been made — you never gave up. You haven't given up. So maybe you could try for a little longer? Just... a little bit, not too much this time, and figure something out?
You almost felt a little sense of hope return to you, no matter how redundant and helpless this situation felt and seemed. Yet it all came crumbling down again when you passed by one of the rooms, and saw something taped to the door.
It was a flier for your performance. One that would be happening soon.
Since your siblings began to pay less and less attention to you as time went on, with your conversations with them growing even shorter, you opted to just tape fliers of your upcoming performances on their doors. Though only the performances you'd thought they'd enjoy, and just hoped that they would show up, if they wanted to, when you stepped onto that stage and approached the instrument you'd be playing for the evening.
You tried texting and other forms of communication at first, but those quickly stopped working and so you just opted for this, and of course it was just as effective as the others.
Alfred was really the only one who listened to your music when you performed, and you only knew that because you caught him playing one of the live performances you had done on the television one day. He not only going out of his way to record the performance, but also trying to find the channel it was broadcasted on.
Ever since you've tried to give him the correct channel number when you do live performances, but that still didn't feel like enough. You loved and appreciated Alfred from the depths of your heart and soul, but what would it take for one of your siblings or close family friends to notice you like that? What would it take for your supposed father to even care to listen to your music? To watch a performance? To not turn you away?
It was only in that moment did a new emotion fuel you. Crawling it's way up your spine as you carefully took the flier in your hands, looking it over before ripping it off the door.
This. This one small thing was all you wanted from them. Over everything else, you just wanted to see one of their faces, one time when you looked out to the crowd when you performed — but every single time, all you saw were strangers.
Every charity event, every gala, every party- that's all you were surrounded by, strangers. Even when you caught small glimpses of them, they were always doing something else, and completely off in a totally different world than your own. That distance along creating a large void-like gap between you and them, and yet it only ever continued to grow. Even when they stood next to you, it was like you couldn't be further apart.
The reality of everything was crushing. Near deadly as you could feel your chest and lungs tighten, with your fingers digging into the paper enough to tear it apart, and reaching your palms as they formed crescent moons, soon drawing blood. Yet nothing could compare to the weight of your heart, and how heavy it felt to carry in your chest.
As you finally moved on from the door, your mind raced. Memories and flashbacks filling your head as every word and notion flashed before your eyes. Barely even paying attention to where you were going, but not caring enough to pay attention.
Every dismissal and excuse thrown your way. Every head shake and blank look. Every confused look, and realization that you were standing there the entire time. Every birthday that passed with the same wish never being granted. Every celebration spent on your own. Every message left on read. Every note ignored. Every time you were forgotten. Every time you were left behind. Every time you brought yourself home, and every time they never noticed. Every night wasted, trying to come up with different things to do only for all of them to turn out fruitless. Everyday that 'maybe' never cones true. Every time you looked out to that sea of strangers, hoping to see someone you recognized, only to find none. Every hour you wasted trying to do something for them while they never once thought of you.
Maybe you'd cry if you could. Then again, maybe not.
You already had spent too many tears over failures you recovered and grew from, and hardships you faced and fought. You've already cried just a little too much during those night you just couldn't handle being so alone, in such a big place anymore. Besides, you've cried enough over people who've never once thought of you. Who never once tried to make time to even see one of your performances, or even allow you to spend a few minutes in their space.
You've given them enough, you think. Especially since after you spent years trying to just make it two thirds of the way — they couldn't even reach that one third of the gap you couldn't. They didn't even try, at least not anymore, and after you had tried to make it easy. Yet, you only hurt yourself in the end.
They never cared about you, and maybe they did once upon a time, but good does that do now when you're trying to go out of your way to make things convenient and easier for them, only for them to skip out on you anyway. No text, no call, no message, no indication, nothing. Just pure silence.
Maybe you were asking for too much, but was it really so bad to want to be loved? And by the people who are supposed to be your family no less?
Hah, who are you kidding at this point. You've just been living in a house full of strangers, and you're the only one who hasn't seen it yet. They've already long since cast you out, and it's only now have you come to truly realize it.
Especially now, as you stand in front of the foot of the door to the music room. Staring at the knob as if it'll turn itself.
You weren't surprised, honestly. Playing music had quickly become an amazing outlet for you, and you had always come here to seek out what little your family couldn't give you; comfort. So it was no wonder that as you collapsed mentally, you had subconsciously brought yourself here.
And yet, only one thought entered your head in that moment.
'They don't deserve to hear my music.'
Perhaps it was now that you decided they had lost the privilege to do so. After all, ever since you had started having performances, even ones in front of wealthy crowds, your 'family' had seemingly been avoiding them like the plague. Never daring to even attend one, for whatever reason, and sure you could understand why they didn't attend the ones you performed at night — but they couldn't use that excuse anymore. You have strictly been playing during the after noon, and at sunset at a push, for over three years now. You've been playing in front of crowds and releasing music for four.
So, you turned away, walking off to your room as your thoughts still stormed. Anger fueling you as you barely remembered storming into your room, collecting any valuables and belongings you had and stuffing them into a bag or two. Not caring about clothes, and only what you deemed important and meaningful to yourself as you just grabbed and shoved everything into a bag if you could.
You could clearly tell now that you obviously weren't wanted, and that no one here even wanted to do the smallest things with you. That even asking to just spend a few minutes with them was too much. So you were doing the only sensible thing, and getting the hell out of here. Moving so quickly that your breathing became uneven, but you didn't stop until you had packed everything you needed, or was important to you in some way.
You only really had a second thought about all this when you were at your window, just about ready to jump out until you paused for a second.
Looking back at the door to your room, you couldn't help but hesitate. There was only ever one person in this entire Manor who treated you like family, and actually put in effort to not only be with you, but to indulge themself in your passion. That met you at the half way mark, and even went a little over sometimes. Since even if everyone else had ignored you — Alfed was there, even if despite all of his efforts you still couldn’t handle this, and maybe that was also your own fault in some way.
You still didn't want to stay, you couldn't anymore, but shouldn't you at least say goodbye? Maybe? After everything... at least he tried.
...
You settled for second best.
Quickly, you grabbed a flashcard and wrote down something before pocketing it and moving back to the window. You may not have any equipment for this kind of thing, but you still managed to scale and work your way around the wall, and managed to reach the window to Alfred's room.
You took a little peak inside, and when you saw that he wasn't there, you opened up the window just a bit, place the small note on the windowsill, and closed it. Then, you skillfully and carefully made your way down, and snuck off to Gotham City. Making your way to a friend's place as you crashed there for the night.
Never once did you look back.
Nor did you ever feel inclined to.
------
Later that night, when Alfred read the note, all it said was:
I'm sorry, Alfed. - Y/n
Just with that alone, it was like he understood everything despite the little that was said. All he could wish you was luck, and that you'd be safe wherever you went.
Suddenly, just like that. The nights where melodies would lull the residence of the Manor to sleep, and bring a temporary, mellow peace to all who heard such a tune, were long gone...
Guess they'll just have to find it, and bring it back.
--------
Kind of rushed at the end there, hope it isn't too bad for a first post. There's probably a lot of mistakes, so apologies for that.
#this was all written in one go#so that's fun#more angst than anything honestly#not really any yan but it is supposed to be for yan stuff#platonic yandere batfam#yandere batfam#yandere dc#yandere x gn reader#gn reader#platonic yandere#neglected reader#sibling reader#reader tries too hard and does their best but finds out it isn't enough#some things just aren't meant to be#but that doesn't mean they get to run around scott free either#not series
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
AITA Steddie Au Part Three
Part Two
Hello! Sorry for the delay! This week was very busy with student conferences and my own midterms so I haven't had a lot of time to work on this. This is more of an interlude building up to bigger things, but I hope you enjoy it!
Also! Get in the comments if you have any ideas of an actual name for this series so I can stop calling it AITA Steeddie Au. I can't think of anything good 😓
------
Eddie takes Steve on that second date.
And then a third and a fourth and eventually he stops counting because he's seeing Steve as often as he can between their jobs and other responsibilities. He feels high off it, giddy with possibility and hope for this new thing that he's never had before.
Eddie has done relationships before, a couple of times. A small handful of boys and girls he took out on dates and tried his best to woo all went up in flames one way or another, but none of those relationships left him feeling so gone so fast. He felt like he was always holding himself back from giving himself up completely, too afraid of falling without a safety net to reach for that deep devotion he's always craved.
Steve makes him feel like they're plunging into that unknown together.
Still, no matter how much he's been trying to avoid it, the looming specter of what the hell to do about his friends is looming over his head.
------
"Are you fucking serious right now dude?" Eddie asks, a complicated mix of righteous anger, humiliation for himself and Steve, and complete disbelief at Gareth's unwillingness to back down from this making it increasingly difficult to keep his cool.
"Look man, all I'm saying is that Steve is like, the complete antithesis of literally everything we stand for. He's a nepo baby business major who's never had an original thought in his life! I would know! I've read one of his papers." Gareth says, forced nonchalance coloring his tone and riling Eddie up even more.
He rears up, shoulders pushing back and hands grasping at the air like he could pull down his frustration from the either and condense it into a solid ball he could lob at Garteth's head to finally knock some goddamn sense into his brain.
"Hey, hey, hey. Okay, Eddie, I'm really sorry about this. It was a fucked up idea, I don't know what we were thinking." Jeff interveins before the frustrated banshy noises Eddie is letting out turn into another yelling match that won't get anyone anywhere.
"I think we just got too caught up wanting to help you get out of this rut and it all turned into something completely insane. You don't gotta forgive us Eddie, but if there's anything we can do to try and make up for it, we'll do it. Isn't that right Gareth?" Jeff pointedly asked with a look that says agree with me right now or else.
Gareth doesn't say anything.
The thing about all of this that Eddie just can't wrap his head around is the why. Why would his friends, his sheepies, do something so cruel? He knows none of them have ever looked kindly at people like Steve. Too many traumatizing high school humiliations behind them all to trust when someone who looks so much like all the guys who bullied them in high school tries to reach out, but Gareth and Jeff have never tried something like this. In fact, it's used to be Eddie doing most of the anti-jock revenge planning back in the day, even if nothing ever actually came from it.
He thought, incorrectly it seems, that they had grown out of the worst of it by now. It's been three years since Garteth graduated, and five since Eddie made his final attempt, and leaving their hometown behind did a lot to heal old hurts.
So why this? Why now?
"Is this seriously how it's going to be man? You won't tell me what the fuck any of this was really about and you're not even going to try and apologize? Seriously?" The righteous anger is starting to seep out of him, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion.
Gareth just continues to stare at him defiantly, not saying a word.
Eddie pinches his nose and takes a deep breath, "You know what? Fine. Whatever. If this is how it's going to be then I'm out. Jeff, I'll talk to you later, probably not for a little bit though. Gareth?" The other man lifts his head from where he'd been looking down at his shoes. There were tears in his eyes, just a little bit but enough for Eddie to clock it. Face red from some unnamed cocktail of emotions Eddie doesn't have the energy or desire to interrogate right now. "Call me when you're ready to grow the fuck up. I've got a second date to plan."
With that, Eddie turned on his heel and made for the open garage door.
"What about the band, man?!" Gareth called.
Eddie kept walking.
-------
That was over four weeks ago.
He hasn't spoken to Gareth for most of that time. The first couple of days he blew up his phone with angry to half-apologizing texts that Eddie promptly ignored. After the second day, he sent a single text back letting him know he didn't want to talk unless he had a real explanation and apology to give both him and Steve and that he was going to block his number for a little while. He could let Freak know if he was ever ready to talk like adults. Eddie trusted him to tell if Gareth was being genuine.
In other news.
Waking up to strong arms secured around his naked waist is fast becoming Eddie's favorite way to start the day. He and Steve slept together for the first time last week, and since then it's like neither of them can get enough of each other.
"Hey, baby." Steve rasps in his ear, tilting his head down to smear sleepy kisses onto his shoulder. The hand that was resting against his ribs meanders its way down to the trail of hair under his navel, scratching just a little and making Eddie feel like a contented mutt. He's not sure if he should feel horny or like he could sink into the mattress and sleep for another full 8 if Steve keeps holding him like his.
"Mornin' sweetheart." he says deciding that a couple more hours of sleep is definitely the way to go. Steve, it seems, has other idead.
"What you thinkin' about this early in the morning?" He asks, hand continuing to scratch lazily at Eddie's stomach like he's not completely destroying Eddie's will and ability to focus on anything but the warm body behind him.
But it's been a long time coming, and as much as he doesn't want to, Eddie needs to start thinking about what he wants to do about his friends? former friends? estranged family? band and Steve deserves to be a part of the conversation.
Eddie sits up, bringing Steve up with him to rest against the headboard. "I've been thinking about the band. Gareth and Jeff, that is." He pauses, waits for some kind of reaction that doesn't come. Steve looks concerned, but not in the way he thought he would.
"Ok." Steve responds, waiting for more.
"I guess I just don't know what to do." He looks out into the middle distance of Steve's bedroom. Takes in the display of swim, basketball, and baseball trophies displayed proudly on a shelf, catching the early morning light. "I'm still so fucking mad. It's honestly kind of irritating how mad it makes me to think of what they did. It was so fucking stupid."
Steve hums a little, letting Eddie get it out.
"But at the same time I can't help but fucking miss them. Miss the music and the campaigns and everything else." It's honestly been eating him alive, the mix of anger and longing he's been feeling for his friends. The constant longing to go back in time and stop them from concocting this shit show but also, like, stalk Gareth to his 8 AM Business class so he can run into Steve and they can fall in love at first sight or some shit.
Silence.
Steve shifts. Moves so he can look Eddie right in the face. He looks thoughtful in a way that Eddie had to get used to. Sometimes when Steve is thinking hard about something, he scrunches his face in such a way that it makes him look like he's judging you. He isn't, it's just an unfortunate fact of life that his baby has a resting Judgemental Face™.
Steve heaves out a big breath, bringing Eddie back down to earth. "I mean, I don't want to, like, cloud your judgement or whatever but maybe you should try and talk to them one more time. Jeff appologized right?"
And, ok that's definetly not what Eddie was expecting to hear. It must show on his face because Steve is suddenly looking away, embaraced.
"I just..." He trails off, taking his own turn staring out at the dull shine of his old acomplishments. Eddie watches as his face once again turns pensive as he stares harder at the remnents of his high school acheivements.
"I used to be a pretty shitty guy. Did the same kind of shit your buddies did a couple of times." This isn't necessarily news to Eddie. They've talked a little about who Steve was in high school and how much work he put into himself before he decided to go back to college. It's still a bit of a shock to hear, though.
"So I get how someone can make a mistake like that, y'know? So if you want to try and talk it out, I won't be offended. I know we're in this together, now." Peace said, Steve reaches for Eddie's hand and gives it a squeeze.
It hits Eddie again, just how good Steve Harrington is. It hasn't been long, not really, since they got together but they've fallen together so completley, so easily, that it's easy to forget that there's still so much they have to learn, so many layers for Eddie to peal back. Behind every judgemental remark and complaint about the frequent phone calls he gets from chuldren he used to babysit in his hometown is a man who cares deeply and is capable of great forgiveness, even if it hasn't been earned yet.
Eddie squeezes his hand back.
"Are you sure?" Eddie asks.
"Yeah, it's not we have to totally forgive them, right? But I think you need to get a real answer from both of them about why it happened. Maybe you can find a way past it, maybe they'll say something that puts the nail in the coffin." He responds.
Eddie takes a deep breath, and thinks.
Steve is right. Eddie isn't satisfied with any of the answers he got last time, and he knows that there has to be more to the story than "trying to get Eddie out of a rut" and he's not going to be able to put any of this to rest until he understands.
"Ok, yeah. I'll call them." Steve gives him an encouraging smile at that, rubbing the back of Eddie's hand where they haven't let go yet.
"Good, I'm glad. And I can come with you if you want. Hit em from both sides." he says. Eddie think's he'll take him up on that offer, but right now he had more imporant things to do. Namely, tackling his sweet boyfriend onto the mattress and having a mid morning tousle.
"We'll see. Right now I've got more imporant things to do." He says in his best aproximation of a sultry voice. He doesn't know how good it really is, but it seems to work based on the way Steve's eyes get hooded and he looks down at Eddie's mouth.
Gotcha.
Before Steve can lean down and kiss him, Eddie snaps his hands down to his boyfriend's sides in a well executed tickle atack. Steve immedietly jolts and starts howling with laughter, yelling between breaths that Eddie is "a fucking asshole" as he continues his relentless atacks.
Eventually, Steve manages to regain his bearings and go on the offence, turning them over and trapping his boyfriend's hands beneath his knees so he can atack Eddie's equally ticklish sides.
Once the late morning has passes into early noon and they've both settled back into Steve's signifigantly more rumpled be, Eddie takes one more moment to think about the furute to come before he shelves it. He knows that whatever conversation is to come, it won't be easy, and even if things go as smoothly as possible with Gareth and Jeff, things will never be the same between them all.
Looking down at Steve, who is sporting the most outrageous bedhead in human history, laughing at the stream of reals Robin sent him in the middle of the night, he thinks he'll be okay either way.
Tag List
@wheneverfeasible @the-dark-hearts @sofadofax @wrenisfangirling @whatfinestandsfor @lilpomelito @raisedbylibrarians @ollyxar @mugloversonly @xxbottlecapx @hezaaxdexangelous @kimsnooks @that-one-gay-crow @travelingtwentysomething @shoujo-wizard @stripey82 @live-laugh-love-dietrich @cr0w-culture @notaqueenakhaleesi @bookworm0690 @r0seprincess @estrellami-1 @little-annie @dreamercec @tinyplanet95 @rawrx3ky-txt @bexinator3000 @justalittledrainbamage @scarletyeager @themoonagainstmers @yesdangerpls @mydysfunctionallife @maverickricky @silentiumdelirium @i-amthepizzaman @samsoble @foolishness-and-confusion @dragonmama76 @gregre369 @thewickedkat @lexr86 @martinskis-lydias
464 notes
·
View notes
Text
Well, it was a big piece of work, hah
I took a break from RW and decided to draw something nostalgic
Actually I've been stuck with this idea for two years now and I'm glad I finally found the strength to do something about it. Thanks for inspiration from one good man)
Long story short
In this AU autobots and deceptions are two unions of different tribes: mudwings, seawings and sandwings for the firsts and icewings, nightwings, rainwings and Pantala tribes for seconds. Skywings doesn’t exist anymore (because we need someone who takes place of predacons).
People are just people or scavenger if you prefer. And instead of whole cosmos it’s just two mainlands.
- Optimus Prime - I kinda like tfp Optimus. So formidable, powerful and mysterious but really gentle at the same time. And mud/sea combo works here in the best way. As the representation of two main tribes union and strong father/brother figure for team members.
I also think he might be an animus (but don’t use his magic often, especially for killing someone)
- Ultra Magnus - Pure Icewing already will be great for him, but I gave him part of seawing so he could be more like an Optimus. But instead of being softer and warmer, Magnus is more cold and pragmatic version of him. A character who sees other dragons not as close allies and friends but as ordinary soldiers.
- Ratchet - Yeah, the seawing would fit him better, but i just don’t know how to make the colors work here sooo… he’s a weak-fire mudwing. Like a skywing, but mudwing. Why not. Make sense with his lack of guns in origin. I think he’s design can be better, and maybe I’ll remake it.
I love his arc of recognizing people as equals and especially his interactions with Raphael. I think Ratchet often read him scrolls about history and magical artifacts.
- Bulkhead - No surprises here - mudwing fit him perfectly. I think that the Wreckers could been a big and strong mudwing troops, and Bulkhead was a bigwings in such a one. He is lost a lot of his siblings during the war, and therefore tries with all his might to protect the new members of his family. I absolutely adore his relationship with Miko and Jackie, so for me he’s one of the cutest character, and I tried to make his forms round and soft.
- Bumblebee - I know that majority draw him as a hivewing, but in that case the most logical for him will be a night/sandwing. Literally, autobots get their own Sunny)
I think in this version with his lack of a voice he could communicate using sign language or some variation of aquatic.
- Arcee - Also nothing special - she is a seawing. I originally wanted to give her a helmet but it was too hard to draw. Just like Sunny she was born pretty small and now even younger dragons can be bigger than her. I’m pretty sure she is old enough to have seen Bumblebee when he was a dragonet, so she's literally like an older sister to him.
Actually she really gives me a Queen Glory vibes with her sarcasm and dangerous beauty, so rainwing might fit her as well.
- Smokescreen - I used to think he was just a cringe, but now I realize he's a pretty interesting and realistic character. Like Ultra Magnus, I wanted to make him look like Optimus, only this time Smoke is more of a younger and much more irresponsible version of him. I think in this version (being part rainwing) he's trying to mimic Optimus's coloring using same red, blue and pale-gray shades.
- Wheeljack - The scruffy boy! I think in this version he could be Bulkhead's "adopted sibling", so they are really close to each other. And, because he spent most of his life with Bulkhead, it's harder for him to get close to other tribes and dragons.
Painting scales to keep canonical colors is kinda cheating, but for this dude it totally works. He should have a pretty bright appearance with all those scars and bright spots.
Cliffjumper - Ohoh�� this poor guy. I didn't even think of putting him here, but I like his smug face too much. Even making his scales darker than the original, it's still too brightly colored for mudwing. He probably jokes about it a lot, saying that his ancestors were skywings.
I really like his dynamic with Arcee, and it's a shame we haven't seen much of their relationship. I think I need to do something cute about that.
#wof#wings of fire#mudwing#seawing#sandwing#tfp#transformers#transformers prime#wof crossover#tf#tf crossover#optimus prime#ultra magnus#bumblebee#arcee#ratchet#tfp smokescreen#cliffjumper#bulkhead
770 notes
·
View notes
Note
Heyyy it would be awesome if you wrote a third part for “37” where Charles gives Logan’s memories back and we go through flashbacks of some of his best memories, his wedding, the day his kids were born…something like that, it would be very heartwarming 🥰🥰🥰 or even maybe coming back from the past and seeing his kids again
sunflower
part three of "37"
CW: fluffy fluff, all the feels, suggestive, profanity, takes place after the events of Days Future Past, very bittersweet, your daughter's a lil menace, your son's a lil cutie pie, angst if you squint, i never know how to end these things, etc.
"Logan, the mind is a fickle thing," Charles sighed, resting his hands on his desk with a solemn look. "I can't possibly guarantee that this will work, much less in one session—" "I don't care how long it takes."
Logan's face drew tight with the statement, his patience visibly wearing thin.
He'd been listening to the same bullshit for twenty minutes...
"I don't care if I need a hundred different fuckin' sessions. I'm gettin' these memories back," he spelled out, leaning forward in his seat and roughly tapping his finger on the desk. "It doesn't make any damn sense. This body's been in this timeline for fifty-fuckin'-years and it doesn't remember shit."
"Because it is your consciousness that is the problem, Logan," Charles groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That is what I've been trying to tell you."
Logan piped down for a moment, brows knitting together as he leaned back in his seat, taking an annoyed drag of his cigar.
"Your psyche is from a completely different timeline, and now resides in a completely different body. It's like asking to recall the memories of a random person walking down the street," the professor explained, again.
Sadly, he hung his head, greatly sorry for the misfortune of his friend.
"I wish there was something I could do, Logan. Truly. But I'm afraid it just can't be done."
But Logan didn't buy it.
Huffing a small plume of smoke out his nose, he glanced out the window, catching sight of you teaching a class on the lawn.
Using your powers, you grew a large sunflower out from the ground, the younger kids marveling at the sight as you began pointing out its anatomy, most of them enamored by the huge petals—which were bigger than their little six year-old frames.
And in a small pause in time, your eyes flitted up to meet his through the window, that heart-stopping smile finding its way onto your lips as you gave him a tiny wave.
It warmed him, experiencing your light for the first time in years without the threat of annihilation on the horizon.
Domesticity like this is something he'd craved all his life, and now that he had it in his grasp, he wasn't going to settle for anything less.
A stilling chill descended on his chest at the thought of your smile, and the countless others he'd missed.
Your tears of joy when he proposed.
Your frazzled excitement with the wedding planning.
Your radiance as you walked down the aisle.
He missed it all.
And he'd be damned if he didn't do everything in his power to try and get it back.
"Charles..." Logan started, stamping out his cigar in a nearby ashtray. "My whole life is standin' out there under that tree... and I can't remember a goddamn thing about her after 1973."
His tone turned cold, eyes sharp as he stared the professor down.
"I don't care if you have to rip my head in half... I'm gettin' those memories back."
The old man let out a sigh, accepting that going on like this would bring no other outcome.
He'd have to give the man what he wanted... consequences be damned.
'Let's hope he survives...'
"This will be violent," Charles stated off-rip, wheeling himself out from behind his desk. "I am essentially hammering your mind like a dam, making cracks in its defenses until it eventually gives way."
Logan nodded, watching as the man settled in front of him, raising his two fingers to his temple.
"Now... try not to move."
Logan shut his eyes, and in an instant, it felt as if his head was struck by a speeding train.
He let out a growl of pain as images began to flash behind his eyes, the next one always coming quicker than the last.
"Hon, which color do you think would go best with my complexion? Eggshell or Porcelain?" you asked, eagerly holding up two different swatches against your skin.
"You look beautiful in anything, baby," he stated as if it was the simplest thing in the world, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Either one is fine."
"As sweet as that is... it doesn't help," you huffed, playfully attempting to scold him.
"Fine then. Eggshell," he answered, quickly.
You raised a brow, an amused smile playing at your lips as you leaned in closer, "Are you just saying that to get me to shut up?"
He let out a chuckle, resting his forehead against yours, "Never."
Yes...
"Can't wait 'til this damn reception is over," he growled in your ear, lips dragging down your neck as you both hid in a nearby hallway. "First time I've been alone with you since I do."
"Logan..." you gasped, tucking your lip between your teeth in an attempt to muffle yourself as he tightly grasped your hips. "Someone'll hear..."
"Then I guess you better keep quiet," he smirked against your skin, giving your collarbone a soft nip.
It's all coming back...
"Logan..." you started, nervously, hands held firmly behind your back. "I have something to tell you... and I'm open to talk about it if you're upset..."
His brows furrowed as he turned away from his dresser, looking toward you with an air of concern.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his protective instinct spiking at the sight of your fearful expression. "What happened?"
Unable to say it, you slowly held up your hand, revealing a positive pregnancy test.
His eyes widened like saucers, throat drying at the tiny piece of plastic.
"You're... pregnant?"
You nodded, silently, his reaction not soothing your anxiety one bit.
But, as if on cue, he moved toward you, striding across the room and pulling you into a bone crushing hug.
"I'm gonna be a father..." he muttered into your hair, the phrase not one he thought he'd ever hear. "I'm gonna be a father..."
Wait...
"Logan!" you cried, tears welling in your eyes as you glanced up at him, scared. "I can't...mmmph fuck!... I can't do it! Hurts too much!"
"C'mon, baby, keep pushin'. You're doin' so good," he cooed, swiping stray strands of hair out your face as the nurse on the other side of the bed helped cheer you on. "Just a little bit more. You're right there."
With a grunt, you squeezed his hand tight, letting out a growl of pain as you gave another push.
Pop!
Logan's eyes shot wide, the man nearly biting through his tongue as he glanced down at his hand.
You dislocated his finger.
Though it seemed to be worth it as that final push was what did it.
"It's a girl!" the doctor smiled, carefully holding up the newborn.
Looking upon her small, chubbed face, Logan felt a sense of protectiveness sink into his chest—one that he only felt when things came to you.
In that moment, and every moment after that, he knew he would lay his life down for her, no question.
And she wasn't even a minute old yet.
I have—
"James! Get back here!" a little girl squealed with laughter, bursting into the office after a little boy, who looked terrified.
Logan snapped out his head with a gasp, shooting up from his seat and unsheathing his claws out of muscle memory.
'James...'
Quickly, Logan retracted his claws as the boy ducked behind his leg, gripping tightly onto his jeans as the girl stormed over.
She looked just like you, save for a few small details, and had a small snaggle-tooth poking out on her right side, only adding to her adorableness.
Not to mention the bone claws she had protruding from her knuckles.
"No fair! You can't hide behind Dad every time you're scared!" she furrowed her brows, upset.
"Mommy told you about your claws, Laura..." James mumbled, voice barely above a whisper as he shyly peeked out from behind his human shield.
'Laura...'
The boy was Logan's mirror image, looking almost exactly like he did at that age..
Apple doesn't fall too far from the tree...
Charles could sense the pieces clicking in Logan's mind, and figured lending a hand would be best after what he'd been through.
"Logan, these are your—" "Laura Marie Howlett!" your voice cut in, the little girl flinching at the sound.
Quickly, she retracted her claws, whipping around with a guilty smile, which was met by your less-than-approving glare.
"What have I told you about chasing your brother inside? And what have I told you about using your claws to do it?" you scolded, walking into the office. "You two are interrupting your father and Professor Xavier."
Logan let out a soft sigh, taking the moment to finally look over his family.
Like a slow moving stream, things were coming back to him, the feeling like a fog clearing from the recesses of his mind.
Every birthday.
Every boo-boo.
Every first.
Slowly but surely, they were all returning.
Without warning, Logan dropped to his knees, pulling the two kids into a tight hug, fiercely fighting off the emotion swelling in his chest.
"Daddy?" James squeaked, concerned.
"Are you okay?" Laura asked, confused.
He nodded, silently, the sight making your heart both burst and ache.
After all this time, your husband was truly whole.
Fifty years of suffering and agony had finally come to an end.
taglist !!
@catiwinky @seamlessepiphany @vinaluvsu @kellyxo1 @amandarobertsboyce @captainloki1 @qveendiorsworld @sarahskywalker-amidala @mei-simp @oatmilkriver @br3nt-12 @bimboshaggy @lightsgore @edszn @couturewinx @sunroxic @notanotheroldman @bontensbabygirl @buckleysg1rl @marvelgirlie-4 @eljaynosine-triphosphate @nickf1 @pinkisokay @mercurysjoy
#james howlett#james howlett x reader#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#mcu#mcu x reader#wolverine x reader#x men#x men x reader#wolverine
638 notes
·
View notes
Text
Something I've been thinking about a lot recently is working with another feeder to blow up a feedee...
Especially if they're starting at the same size as us. Just having a cute NEET girl move in with us, her body all tight and toned. It starts small with my partner and I cooking her bigger meals than she's used to, always with a healthy slab of butter. There's always snacks lying around the house, specially curated to her tastes so she forgets she's even overeating. After a few months she's developed a nice, soft layer of pudge over her entire body, her hips are a little wider, a bit of a double chin is coming in, her belly pushes against her leggings and dresses, and she's started to slow down a little.
Then the weight starts to pile on faster. Depending on each of our moods, one of us feeds her more intently while the other comforts her and takes care of the house. Sometimes for fun we'll whisper about her progress just loud enough for her to hear us from the next room. We talk about how much thicker and softer her thighs are, how her tits have gotten fuller, how cute she looks when she's snacking on the couch. Then we act surprised when we walk into the den and see her double-fisting a soda and an ice cream sandwich with a sly grin on her face. By this point she's solidly chubby; her thighs and belly jiggle when she walks, and she hasn't quite realized the wardrobe she started out with is much too small for her now. She totally fills her athletic shorts, which nowadays she only uses to lounge around the house, and she always needs one of us to help clasp her bra.
Fast forward another year or so, and she's completely puffed up. She'd put on at least a hundred pounds and gone through two wardrobes. The first time she popped the buttons off a pair of pants, we went out for dinner to celebrate, but now it's become a regular occurrence. Her days all blend together for the most part. My partner and I would set up our work schedules so one of us will always be home with her, preparing her meals and feeding her so she doesn't have to waste any calories standing by the stove or moving the food from her plate to her mouth. Essentially every waking moment for her is spent completely stuffed. On weekends, when we're all home together, we like to have a little extra fun. My partner and I would cook her at least five full meals a day, each a couple thousand calories, with lots of snacks and sweets in between. When she's not eating she's splayed out on the couch, puffing on her wax pen. One of us cuddles her, rubbing her belly and squeezing her tits, whispering teasing words into her ear. The other kneels on the floor between her legs, holding her gut out of the way while she eats her out. Then the timer goes off, and it's back to pigging out.
At night, we'd stand her up in front of a mirror and point out every new stretch mark and curve. We'd talk to each other about how much we loved her huge hips and her hanging gut, how cute her plush arms are, how fun it is to cup her double chin when we kiss her. We never address her directly so she can squirm in her overwhelming horniness. Sometimes we like to pull out her old clothes and help her try them on. Lately it's taken both of us just to pull her old tshirts down over her belly and breasts, at least twice as wide as they used to be.
She loves it though. She loves the attention, the humiliation, the constant care, the approval she gets when she outgrows another outfit. She loves nothing more than lounging around all day, stuffing herself to her heart's content, smoking pot, and watching TV.
And we love it too, of course. Watching her grow and settle into her new body, then do it all again. Doing everything for her. Talking about our plans for her. Our next goal is to make her big enough that she needs help standing, which doesn't seem too far off, seeing as she's already huffing and puffing every time she needs to get up on her own. And we can't wait.
#this ended up being a lot longer than i intended 😅#here's hoping u like it tho !#feeding kink#female fat admirer#female feeder#ffa#soft feedism#weight gain#wg kink#female feedee#feedee belly#feedee girl#feedee encouragement#fat belly
440 notes
·
View notes
Text
Prologue // Something special
Prologue -> Part 1 -> Part 2 Platonic yan!Batfam x reader
My mom would think I'm special.
I can't do big twists like my older brother Dick, or fight as fiercely as Damien seems to do, hours upon hours of.
I can't do it.
I can't fill the huge walls that seem so empty in this dark and ginormous room I was given, one that was bigger than the small, simple apartment we had once shared, filled with love that flowed through the seams of every crack and corner.
But it was our home, one filled with old furniture found at garage sales, towels and posters covering cracks in the walls, and a small little T.V. that would almost never work unless the sky was completely clear, a rarety in Gotham.
But as I sit here, feeling utterly alone, I can't even finding myself mourning her, in my mind she could walk in at a moments notice, and take me back into her loving arms, saying how sorry she was for leaving me to wallow in a room that was too big for someone as small as me to even begin to fill with love.
Dear god I wished my mom would run through those doors.
I've been here for a few months, just after my mom had passed from illness. It was obvious, the shaky hands that would hold my face, the coughs filled with a red I tried oh so hard to ignore, triping over her own feet, hands shooting out to grasp onto the nearest surface.
I was- am so young, but I know what death is, so much of it happens here in gotham after all, but for a moment, I wished, still do, that death could just stop following me, and that I could live in normalcy for once.
But after seeing my mom fall cold in the middle of making breakfast, suddenly silencing her soft humming in exchange for sputtering out blood, dropping the spatula she was holding, it was clear that a mercy like that wasn't possible for someone like me, someone who was destined to be able to do nothing for those dearest to me.
My mom would think I'm special, tell me I'm more than just a shadow and that I have value, talent, and unconditional love for those around me, something that's hard to find in gotham.
She would tell me that I'm special, and that she doesn't care about the empty walls, that we can fill them up with something else, something that tells a story about me, that gives the abnormally quiet room life and value.
But she isn't here to tell me that, and the family members who have gone through extreme measures just to avoid me, never once taking note of my interests, likes, dislikes, dreams, don't seem like they're going to anytime soon.
My mom used to tell me that when you love someone, you remember things about them without even having to try, that you look for them and see them in the little things, things that people who didn't know them wouldn't be able to see.
So why isn't it that my own family- father, siblings, blood or not- can't seem to do any of that?
This is kind of a draft/prologue :> ive been binging on yan!batfam fics recently, so I decided to make one as well!! Idk how I want to continue this, but if people like, it please let me know!!!
377 notes
·
View notes
Text
More Body, More Money
Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader
Word Count: 1.1k
warnings: Allusion to smut towards the end, references to a female body and that body being bigger
an: holy shit sorry for disappearing for so long. I make no promises as to when I'll come back as I seem to have a habit of breaking those. I've been in a Bridgerton mood recently though and typed this on my phone in like an hour so no promises that it's all that good. I will say though that I've been working on a request recently and it's currently at 4k and counting which is by far the longest fic I've ever written and I'm not even to the good part yet. I've also finished outlining the rest of the parts for my Kili x reader fic. I think that's it though, thanks for reading this far if you did and for putting up with my bs.
“Darling, could you come here a moment?” Your husband called from his desk. Recently you had taken to reading while lounging on the couch in his study. It was a great way to spend time with your busy husband while also letting him get his work done.
You didn’t exactly know what he was working on at the moment but apparently, your presence was needed to solve whatever issue he had stumbled upon. It wasn’t until you got closer to his desk that you noticed the receipts and ledgers sprawled across his desk. He was updating the families' books and tracking the spending that you and the rest of his family had done that month.
“Yes, my love?” You moved to rest your hand on his back and traced it across his shoulders and on his neck. It was as if you two were magnets, unable to keep apart for very long. If you were close enough then you would feel your hands gravitating towards him. And if the way his arm moved to rest on your back as well, he had the same urges when in proximity to you.
“I’ve noticed something odd in the charges from the modiste.” Anthony handed you the papers. Both you and Eloise had gone to the modiste at the beginning of the month to be fitted for some new gowns to prepare for her second season in the marriage mart and your first season as the Viscountess.
“I’ll admit to not being the most knowledgeable about gowns and other frivolities my love, but is it normal for the cost difference to be this large? I mean when Ben and I get new suits the price is almost always similar.” He pointed to the two prices listed on the bill from Madame Delacroix.
You didn’t know how to respond to this, you knew the reason behind the price difference between yours and Elioises dresses, of course, it was something that you had thought of already. After all, it was the same reason that your younger sister always got more gowns than you every season that the two of you attended growing up. You were larger, and as the modiste you had gone to grow up with had said “More body means more fabric means more money.” more money that your father had deemed unnecessary so you had only ever gotten one or two new dresses while your sister would be fitted for five or six of the newest and most flattering styles.
But how could you explain this to Anthony? That your dresses cost more than his sisters because you were bigger, and that meant more money.
You knew Anthony loved your body, he worshiped it often in fact but there was a difference between getting lost in the softness of your embrace and seeing the real-life sometimes the financial consequences of living in a bigger body.
“Oh, Anthony, it is uh- just a matter of resources I suppose.”
He raised a brow at you. “I’m not sure I understand. What do you mean by resources?”
“Well dear husband, you and your brother are very similar in height and build which means the two of you have very similar resource usage, whereas myself and your sister are quite different in the… resource usage department.”
“My love, I need you to speak to me as if I am an idiot.”
You deeply sighed and prepared yourself to have the conversation that you had been trying and failing to get out of. “Eloise is small, therefore it does not take as much fabric to make her dresses, whereas I am quite well endowed and my dresses require more material. More body means more fabric means more money it is as simple as that.”
“That is preposterous, are you both not getting dresses?” His tone was getting more defensive, and it warmed your heart to know that he was willing to get upset at the simple fact that Madame Delacroix had charged you more because your dress was bigger. You had expected him to be embarrassed, and deep down somewhat afraid that he would realize that he had signed himself up for these extra expenses for the rest of his life by marrying you.
“Well darling, think about it, would you expect to pay the same amount for a child as you would for yourself? Do you not pay more for your suits than you do Greg’s?”
“No, I see your point darling.”
“That is all this is my love, different sizes of clothing cost different amounts. If it is a problem I can just see about getting some of my old gowns altered to make them somewhat nicer for the new season, that way you would not have to spend as much.”
“What? No. Darling, this is not about the money, I was merely worried that that woman had tried to take advantage of you, charging you far more than Eloise for the same thing. I couldn’t care less about the money. In fact, I think you should get ten more gowns made, show everyone in the Ton that I am married to the most voluptuous, sensual, and desirable woman in the world.” He pulled you closer to him so that you were standing in between his spread knees, you still standing over him as he leaned back in his chair.
Anthony began training kisses up and down the arm that he had grasped within his hand. Turning your wrist over so that he could place one at the center of your palm.
“I do not need ten new gowns, Anthony, that is far too much.” You giggled and protested, feeling more enamored with the man you married with every word out of his mouth.
“Perhaps I shall buy you ten diamond necklaces then so that I can have an excuse to stare at your chest as often as I’d like.” You snorted and gently smacked the back of his head. “Anthony Bridgerton, that is scandalous talk and you know it.”
“Nothing is scandalous between husband and wife, especially when the two are alone.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and lifted the corners of his lips into a sultry grin, one that had your knees feeling weaker by the second.
“All I really need, dear husband, is you.”
A smile that you could only consider adoring spread across your husband's face.
“And I you, my love.”
“No Anthony, I need you.”
His grin turned to a full-blown smirk spreading across his face, “Well, what the Viscountess needs she gets…”
;)
#anthony bridgerton#Anthony Bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x wife!reader#anthony bridgerton x plus size reader#x reader#bridgerton#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton imagine#plus size reader#fanfic#plus size!reader#fluff#requests open#requests wanted
877 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey! I'm not a botanist, but I'm in circles where it's a bigger thing and I'm kind of curious about something.
So, from an outsider's perspective, the genus Garcinia has a lot of weird and messy classifications. For example, common species like G. intermedia and G. gardneriana are really similar to Garcinia brasiliensis, to the point that it's pretty controversial if they're actually separate species. The Garcinia species colloquially known as "achachairú" also appears to bear a lot of similarities to that trio (although much less than they share with each other), HOWEVER it's almost exclusively referred to (in cultivation and in studies) as G. humilis, a Carribean species with small oval-shaped leaves, despite actually having very long lanceolate leaves and being exclusively found in the Andean foothills of Bolivia. Also, multiple frequently cultivated species like Luc's garcinia and Russell's sweet garcinia haven't actually been described yet, despite for example the former having a decent amount of scientific interest and frequent genetic testing done on it.
All of these odd classification things and even more others have been pretty well known in my circles for the past 15 years-ish, but still nobody seems anywhere close to a conclusion for them. How long does it usually take for a genus to get organized when it has as many species as Garcinia does? And how do they do it? Do they go around testing every single species or only a few at a time? If a species is currently not named, do the same people usually describe them as part this endeavor, or just leave them for somebody else? I saw Plinia and Artocarpus recently got reshuffled a lot because of some prominent genetic studies on them, and several new species and even genera were added, but it just seems alien to me how stuff like that even ends up happening. There are so many plants out there!
Sorry if I'm asking the wrong person here, but I've been wondering about how this stuff will eventually be resolved for yeeeearrs
There are so many plants out there!
ok im kind of surprised i can offer a few possible answers to this question despite having never heard of this but i think i can. if the question is 'why aren't some plants actually described', this is the primary reason why.
when i was in plant anatomy class in college, the person teaching us was a plant anatomist who assigned us different plants from the greenhouse to dissect and describe in a paper for her, and she told us that we might find something that hadn't been described before, which was pretty shocking to me. what do you mean i could potentially find a new-to-science thing? has nobody in history looked at this plant that's just growing in the greenhouse upstairs??
what she said was that no, sometimes not. there are so many plants out there that it's difficult to do one exact in-depth description and published examination of each species, so what botanists end up doing is doing or finding one in-depth examination of one species in a specific group and assuming that all the others in the group are at least similar, if not the same. which is good because it saves time and works as a shorthand, especially if there's not much funding, but also sometimes it has the potential to overlook more nuanced differences that can go undiscovered for a long time. but that's just botanical species in the conventional sense, which i don't think is as straightforward in what you're describing.
another answer to this question that's more specific to the species you're talking about here is that plants are having sex. they have so so so soooo much sex. few things they enjoy more to be honest. and given that the most conventional (but not only) definition for different species is 'can't have sex with other species because it's too different from them', the lines get blurrier to deal with, and one thing botanists do when the lines between species get too blurry (because of all the sex) is to just assume that they're all part of some kind of hard-to-describe genetic soup with individual plants falling along gradients or spectrums of similarities or differences, and in this case you'll see botanists just name the most prominent species among them and call it the '[most common suspect] complex', which groups together all the ones that happen to be having sex with each other at the same time, just to make them easier to talk about. this typically doesn't mean that they're species-less, but more that they can be thought of as a group with a few distinct points where they can look very distinct, and those points are the species, if that makes sense; see the citrus sex graph at the end for an example.
i also see from a cursory google search that people seem to be planting and eating these in a more widespread way, and people are talking about them on forums and stuff. this is one of the cases in botany where things get tricky, because a person looking for traits in a fruit that's having tons of sex might not actually be looking for the same things botanists are looking for when describing a species-- it might seem easiest to just find which species or few species are the tastiest and grow those, but if it's a genetic soup then all you can really do is do it the old fashioned way and breed individual plants for the traits you want. which, who knows, could end up being a hybrid between all of them.
case in point: again i am not completely up to date with the lore here but i found a forum thread where people were debating which species to plant and the consensus was just to plant multiple species at once, which is fine but is also really funny given that it DOES facilitate even more sex, thus blurring the lines even further and-- if the posters decide to plant the resulting seeds from the fruits-- will create even MORE hybrid plants of no discernible concrete species in the plant soup. the hybrid of a hybrid of a hybrid of a hybrid or whatnot. when does one stop calling it a hybrid between two species and start calling it 'the tree in grandma's backyard that's the tastiest of the berries i've tried'? that is the question, truly, one humanity has had for millennia in the search for the tastiest berry, and at that point it might just be easier to call it a variety or cultivar, which are horticultural terms for just that-- a distinct 'kind' among the same species that taste good subjectively and can be reliably rebred and harvested, like all the apple varieties people debate about.
another reason is that plant phylogenies are hard and brain-twisting and plant taxonomists and systemisists are among our strongest warriors. it's not uncommon at all in botany to be researching something and to find out it's been reshuffled because of a new breakthrough on the case a bunch of people more qualified on the subject decided made more sense like a decades later. sometimes species themselves will even change names multiple times if it turns out that it was described earlier by someone else considering the new circumstances. if you're a really unlucky or just controversial plant all this can happen over and over again until, finally, the trees of math have been resolved in a way that makes sense. how long will it take? surely there is a concrete end to the madness? nah. lol
finally, if you're looking into studies on this, you should know that some phylogeny stuff is opinion-based or subjective, especially at first. what counts as a new group for one group of researchers might not count as one for another. so when you see stuff where people are inventing new categorizations or genuses or whatnot or merging multiple ones together spontaneously, it'll depend on how well supported their reasoning is and what the evidence seems to show, and the larger community of plant taxonomists will, overtime, decide what they want to do with that information-- which may include verifying it or refuting it with more evidence. what researchers are proposing when they split stuff off or merge it together is a new or updated model for thinking about existing information, and that model may be more or less useful than the existing one for the means of actually learning more about the plants.
anyway in short there are lots of reasons why this might not be sorted out and the more sex these plants have the longer it's gonna take. i'm strongly reminded of that one citrus sex graph (its this one) (screenshotted to see it on night mode):
335 notes
·
View notes
Text
Intoxicated
March 16th, 2009
Today was my 21st birthday. My friend had set me up on a blind date with an actor, but didn't tell me who. She figured this would be the perfect scenario considering the hell I'd went through last Summer with a guy that was probably the biggest piece of shit on the planet. I haven't dated or been intimate with anyone since then, nor did I really have any interest in being.
I looked over at her, "What is this guy even like?" I asked, finishing up curling my hair.
She smiled, "He's tall, he's nice, he's super sexy and he's not American, if that gives you any hints."
I shrugged as I sat my curling iron down, starting to put my eyeliner on, "It doesn't. But I mean, is this even someone I'd be remotely interested in?" I asked her, giving her a questioning look.
She chuckled, "I'm positive you'll be thanking me by the end of the night."
I rolled my eyes, "So he's an actor?"
She nodded, bringing me a pair of ripped bell bottom jeans, "Yes. A very talented actor."
I quickly changed into the jeans, "Is he anyone I know?"
She walked to my living room, grabbing my keys to bring me, "Ummm... He's in that movie we watched when we were teenagers. I think it's called Swordfish or something like that."
I gave her a questioning look, "Did you set me up with John Travolta?"
She covered her mouth laughing, "You'll just have to wait and see. I'm not telling you anything!"
She probably set me up with one of the extras, someone I most likely wouldn't even remember ever being in the movie. She knows I hate surprises, but I appreciate her for trying, even though the last blind date she set me up on was a complete and total dud.
She clapped her hands at me, "Go! You were supposed to leave 5 minutes ago! He's going to meet you at RH Rooftop." She yelled.
I grabbed my phone, made sure I had my keys and looked at her before heading out the door to our apartment, "I swear, if this is another dud, I'm going to kill you."
She rolled her eyes, "I promise, it's not a dud. Just go."
I rolled my eyes, closing the door behind me as I made my way down the hall, towards the elevator, then to my car in the parking garage. While making the drive to the restaurant, I'll tell you a bit about myself... I'm a Southern Belle, originally from South Carolina. I moved to NYC after obtaining a degree in journalism. I didn't have many opportunities in my small town, so I decided to move to a bigger city in hopes of pursuing a career as a reporter. I've been serving as an intern for a local publishing company, which has gone well for the most part.
Callie and I are roommates. She also moved here for journalism, but moved here from Arizona. We met while working part-time at a coffee cafe and became roommates since the cost of living in NYC is astronomically high. She took a different career path, as a model which caused her to meet many different celebrities.She'd tried getting me into modeling with her, but it wasn't my thing. We shared a dog, Harley, who was a beautiful French Bulldog, that was treated as if he were our love child.
As I arrived and finally found parking for RH Rooftop, I realized I was 10 minutes late. I quickly turned my car off and sprinted towards the entrance. I don't even know who I'm looking for or how to spot this dude. I approached the hostess stand, looking nervous as I skimmed the crowd of dinners wondering who Callie had set me up with.
The hostess noticed me, "May I help you with something?" She asked kindly.
I nodded, "Ummm... I"m here with a guy, but I'm unsure of where he's sitting. He's not American and is very tall. He's also an actor." I stammered, knowing I must sound insane.
She giggled, "Can you tell me his name?"
I pursed my lips, "Not really. I'm on a blind date, so I have no idea what his name is...or who he is." I chuckled nervously, scratching the back of my neck.
She smiled, "Okay, I think I know who you're referring to. He told us he was expecting a blind date. Follow me." She said, grabbing a menu and leading me to the rooftop entrance.
I followed behind, still curious as to who this would be. I'd probably shit a brick if it were John Travolta, but I'm pretty sure he's off the market. There was that computer hacker dude that was pretty hot too. As we reached the rooftop tables, she led me to a dark haired man that had his back towards the entrance. I couldn't make out who he was just yet and considering that was an older movie, I doubt I'd recognize him from the movie from the back.
He stood as he heard us approach and pulled my chair out, turning to face me, "You must be my date." He said with a smile, extending his hand to shake mine, "I'm Hugh." He said casually.
It was the computer hacker dude, and shit, did he look good. Even 8 years later, he still looked good.
I smiled, shaking his hand, "I am, I'm Kaitlyn." I said as I took my seat. He gave me another smile before going back to his seat across from me.
"How're you doing, love?" He asks, smiling at me, keeping his elbows off the table. Hm, a real gentleman.
I chuckled at his flattery, already calling me a pet name. "I'm doing good, everything's going great for me at the moment. How's things going for you?"
He shifted, "I just wrapped up filming an origin movie for a character I've played for the last 9 years, I'm finally on a much needed break and no longer on a strict regime for my character, which I'm fully intending on breaking tonight with a milkshake."
I giggled, "I see." I said as the waiter approached us. He was a young man who was obviously infatuated with my date.
"Holy s-, I mean, I'm so sorry-" He stammered as Hugh began cracking up, "It's quite alright, mate." He said to the young man.
The man smiled, "Mr. Jackman, I'm sorry. Wolverine is my all-time favorite X-Men character." Hugh smiled, "Can I please get a picture with you? I swear I'll keep it professional after." He asked.
Hugh laughed, "Sure thing, mate. I'm sorry, love, but do you mind helping our waiter out with a picture?" He asked, almost embarrassingly.
I chuckled, "I don't mind." The waiter smiled, handing me his cell phone as Hugh got up to stand beside him, making a Wolverine pose as if he had retractable claws.
He pat the man on the back and sat back across from me, "Thank you so much, Mr. Jackman. And thank you for taking the picture. My name is William. What can I start you guys off with to drink?" He asked.
Hugh and I looked at each other, "I think I'll take a martini." I said, flipping through the bar menu. "No problem, William. I'll take a martini, and also, a chocolate milkshake. Large, William."
I giggled at his serious tone making sure William understood Hugh wanted a large. "Coming right up, are there any appetizers you guys want to start with?" William asked before walking off as we both shook our heads.
Hugh looked up at me, damn was he sexy, "So, tell me about you." He said, smirking.
I pursed my lips wondering what to tell, "Hmm, let's see... I have a Frenchie, his name is Harley. I'm an intern for a local business. I have a degree in journalism. I moved here from South Carolina after graduating college for a better chance of a career in journalism."
He nodded, taking my words in, "I've always wanted a French Bulldog. I also have a degree in journalism. I moved here from Australia many years ago, but I moved for X-Men." He said, forcing his accent deeper as he mentioned being from Australia.
I chuckled, "You do have a very sexy accent. I actually didn't know you weren't American because your American accent is so convincing."
He smirked, "I happen to think your accent is sexy too." He said flirtatiously, making me blush.
I laughed, "I literally sound like cornbread, stop."
He laughed, "You do not. Even if you did, cornbread tastes good."
Our waiter returned with our drinks and Hugh's large milkshake, and proceeded to take our order. I reached for the menus, but Hugh swiped them from me, handing them to our server.
He winked at me, "Gotta be quicker than that, beautiful."
I playfully rolled my eyes, "Tell me more about you." I said, resting my chin on my hands, giving him my undivided attention.
He smiled, "What do you wanna know?" He asked flirtatiously.
I shrugged, "Everything."
He chuckled, "For starters, I have two children, Ava and Oscar. They are 4 and 9. I play cricket. I enjoy singing. Every year, I go back to Australia and do the polar plunge. I'm recently divorced. Anything else you want to know?"
I smirked, "Have you been with anyone since the divorce?"
He looked at, surprised at my question, but smiled, "No, no I haven't. I haven't been with anyone besides her since 1995."
I bit my lip, raising my brow with a giggle, "So you're not a douche bag then, noted."
He smiled sweetly, "No, I'm not a douche bag." He said softly.
I shifted in my seat, taking a sip from my martini, "What are you hoping to come from this?"
He shrugged, "I really don't know, love. I have no expectations, whatever happens, happens. What about you?" He asks, his eyes burning through me, almost with a lust.
I smirked, "I kind of go with the flow. Whatever happens, happens."
He bit his lip, "I like that."
As the night went on, we ate our food and drank a few martinis. Both of us, feeling a little tipsy and beginning to ask risque questions as he moved his chair to my side of the table, now beside me.
"So tell me, what are some of your turn-ons?" I asked with a smirk, sipping my 3rd martini.
His one hand moved to my thigh under the table, "Does it count if I say you?" He smirked, looking me in the eyes.
I bit my lip, "Do you want to um...get out of here?" I asked him quietly.
He grabbed my hand, "C'mon, love." and began leading me towards the entrance of the rooftop bar to head back downstairs and to the sidewalk. "Let's go to my car." He said, leading me to an SUV.
As we got to the car, he rushed towards the backseat, opening the door, motioning for me to climb in. I climbed in, sliding to the other end as he quickly slid in beside me, shutting the door and pulling me onto his lap, slamming his lips against mine as he roughly gripped my hips. I felt him begin pushing his hips upwards, grinding into me as I reached behind us, positioning myself upwards, tugging at his belt.
"Take this off..." I muttered against his lips as he bit my bottom lip, I pulled away and slid my top off as he helped me, tossing it into the seat beside us, leaving me in my bra and jeans. I slid off of him to remove my jeans and underwear as he undid his belt and jeans, his hard dick exposed.
"Come here." He said, almost demanding, as he grabbed my arm, bringing my lips back to his as I straddled his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck as I lowered myself down onto him, taking every inch.
He moaned against my lips, "Fuck, you're tight." He said lowly as he sucked on my bottom lip, nibbling at it.
I began bouncing up and down, roughly, my moans filling the car. I felt him reach up and grab my breasts, that were covered by my bra, squeezing them. "Shit, your cock feels so good inside me." I cried out.
He pushed my bra down, exposing my breasts as he popped one of my nipples into my mouth, nibbling at it and sucking as he started thrusting his hips up to meet mine. "Oh fuck!" I yelled as he moved his hands to my hips and started thrusting hard into me.
"We gotta be quick, we're in a parking lot." He chuckled as he began moaning again.
I could feel my orgasm coming, I grabbed his chin, forcing his face back to mine, crashing my lips onto his. "Cum for me, baby." He said huskily, moving his lips down to my neck, sucking and biting softly.
I felt my eyes practically roll back into my head as I let myself go, my juices flowing down his throbbing cock as he spilled his load inside me.
"Second date?" He asked, out of breath, laughing.
I nodded, catching my breath, "Definitely."
#fantasy#hugh jackman#hugh jackman x reader#fan fiction#marvel#fandom#fem reader#oc art#wolverine#fanfic#smut#creative writing#writers on tumblr#writing#authors#oc rp#fanfics#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#james howlett#wattpad#imagination#one shot#mcu rp
234 notes
·
View notes
Note
I’ll try my luck in requesting.. Plot is, reader asks SNSD Yoona who is his gf to dominate him femdom style.. I’d want to see kinks like pegging and well.. To be honest body worship especially armpits.. Thanks for reading and if you choose to decline it, all good.. But I really wish to a great writer’s take on this humble request of mine..
Submitting to her
(Lim Yoona X Male Reader)
This is how everyone sees her. Lim Yoona. One of the younger members and the center of Girl's Generation. Most of the time a cute, playful sunshine. But when it comes down to it, she can also be fierce and borderline sexy.
But no one will ever be able to see her, how you see her. That is something no one will ever know.
You met Yoona about a year ago for the first time. You couldn't believe she actually walked into the bar you were working at. It was a very expensive and prestigious one, yes, but you didn't really think of Yoona as big bar goer.
And you were quickly proven right. She was only there, because of one of the two friends she was with, was celebrating her engagement.
The three women were sitting at your bar the whole night, chatting away and drinking more and more of your most expensive liquor. While you were serving them and the other guests as well, the newly engaged woman seemed to have drunk too much. First, she kept on showing off her ring to Yonna and the third woman, but as the night grew longer, she also started to flirt with you.
You thought nothing of it at first, blaming it on the alcohol, but she got more and more into it. You could tell that Yonna was getting a little uncomfortable at her friend's behavior, but she didn't say a word.
"Would you mind mixing me another cocktail, babe?"
Yes, you did mind. And no you didn't like the fact she called you increasingly worse pet names. Blaming the alcohol would have been only a sorry excuse at this point. You could already tell that her future husband would probably catch her cheating at one point. It was so clear it could've been written on her forehead.
Eventually, her and Yoona's other friend went to the bathroom. The rude woman definitely drank too much. And while you were wiping parts of the black granite surface of the counter, you were hoping she wouldn't completely ruin the ladies' room.
You heard Yoona groan, after she took the last sip of her cocktail.
"Would you like a refill, Miss?"
To your surprise, Yoona suddenly glared at you.
"Oh, please, lover boy. Don't pretend like you would say no, if she asked you to spend the night with her."
You felt that was a little out of the blue. But the alcohol and her being annoyed by her friend, probably made her search for some kind of release.
"I would say no."
You would never sleep with another man's girlfriend, wife or whatever.
"Really? Why wouldn't you, huh?"
You suddenly felt trapped. Was that a trick question? Did she want you to mess up, so she could let out all her pend up frustration on you?
"Never mind, I'm sorry."
Yoona cut you off, before you could answer.
"It's just... I'm always too busy, you know? Barely free time, no time for dating, or a boyfriend and especially no time for a husband."
"Another cocktail it is, then."
Yoona chuckled as you started to mix the same cocktail she had before.
"You're really good at that, you know?"
"I hope so, I've been doing this for years."
As you added your finishing touches, Yoona let out another sigh.
"You are still young, so take some advice from me. Make sure you find the right person to be with. Don't wait as long as I have."
"I'm sure there are a lot of good men out there, who would like to go on a date with you, despite your busy schedule."
Since the granite surface was a little bigger, you let her new glass slide over the stone. It came to a hold just in front of her. You leaned over the counter and reached behind her ear.
Yoona slightly backed away, but you pulled back already, holding a small cocktail umbrella in your hand.
"Myself included, of course."
You blew on the umbrella, opening it up, before you let it fall into the drink.
You usually weren't that straight forward with guests. But this wasn't a usual guest. This was Yoona.
"That was smooth."
She playfully wiggled her eyebrows as she acknowledged your skill.
"Like I said, years of work and experience. Once I start something, I only finish once I perfected it."
"I like the sound of that."
Her smile was warm, but at the same time a little seductive. Her eyes sparkling with amusement, but also looking at you as if she was searching for something.
You later asked about that moment.
"I liked you. You looked handsome. And I wanted something she couldn't have."
That was her answer. Almost the perfect way to describe the start of your relationship.
"Although I don't have a man, I do have needs. I don't have enough time to date, but I can definitely make just enough time to take care of those needs."
You were surprised at how hopen she suddenly talked about herself. You were still in a public place.
"I could use someone like you. Dedicated to a task. Not stopping until he is satisfied. I would repay you of course. How much money do you make?"
While you were standing there, totally bamboozled by her sudden offer, you realize you could've seen that coming. Yoona is lonely, doesn't have time for a proper relationship and has more than enough money to find herself a sugar baby.
And for some reason, you did like the sound of that. Her terms were clear. Wherever and whenever she wanted, you would do your best to worship her entire body, make her feel good. But for that, you would have to quit your job.
"Don't worry. I will pay for everything you need."
While you were still debating on saying yes or no, her friends came back. They were eventually done drinking and were about to go home.
Yoona gave you one last look.
Decide right now, or you will regret it for the rest of your life.
You quickly wrote your number on a napkin and gave it to her.
The dynamic in your relationship was clear from the get go. Yoona was literally your sugar mommy and paid for everything, while you were tasked with pleasuring her better than anyone had ever before. Outside of the bedroom, she was the dominant one, but when it was about sex, you were the one who took care of her.
After staying at her place a couple of times, you, unconsciously, slowly started to move in with her. It started with a toothbrush and it ended with your computer and desk in her guest room. Not that Yonna minded at all. The living together and sleeping together, made it impossible to not start developing feelings. And finally, after ten months of sex with no strings attached, you both agreed on your new status of your relationship.
"10 Minute break in twenty minutes. Need you."
A simple text from your now girlfriend and you are on your way.
You enter the SM building slowly after, making your way to one of the smaller rooms on the third floor. As soon as you walk in, Yoona crashes into you. You haven't seen her since this morning. She looks just as good as she did then.
As soon as you saw her outfit this morning, you knew this is gonna be one of those days. She doesn't have them often. But on those days, she sometimes shows you a side of her no one can know about.
Most of the time, the power during sex is equally distributed. Sometimes it's Yoona, who leads, sometimes it's you. But most of the time, the two of you are equals. Yoona isn't the kind of woman who loves to get fucked like a cheap whore. She does enjoy you, being a little rougher with her at times, but never something too crazy.
And on rare occasions, just like today, you can see a fire burn inside of her. A fire that makes her lust and arousal grow immensely. Until now, she always had herself under control. But you do know, that if her self control breaks, you will be the one who will have to bear the consequences.
"Oh, fuck. I need your tongue so bad."
She whispers into your ear, after just having kissed the life out of you.
You lean down and push her hair behind her shoulders, before you start to kiss her naked skin. Yoona loves how you take care of her. How you worship her. To say that she has a praise kink is an understatement. More like goddess kink.
"You taste perfect, mommy."
Yoona purrs, at your words, letting out a satisfied sigh. Yeah, one of those days. You know you are doomed tonight, if you can't satisfy her well enough right now.
And at the same time, you don't mind at all. You actually welcome the idea of Yoona punishing you for doing a bad job. You want to find out what happens, when that fire inside her does take over her being. You are just not sure yet, if you can handle it.
Once you have dutifully peppered her shoulders with endless kisses, you pick her up and carry her towards the window.
"Oh, yes. I'm craving that. Oh, baby I'm so thirsty for your touch."
Yoona always turns into a mess, whenever you start to worship her like this. She loves it. And you do too.
After putting her down on the windowsill, you quickly start to take off her belt. This is just the right height for what you have in mind. Once her suit pants are around her ankles, you reach into her panties. The black lace traps your hand, forcing you towards her pussy.
"That's it, baby. Be a good boy."
Yoona moans in delight as she feels you pushing a finger inside of her. You lick your lips as you see her closing her eyes, ready to bring the second half of your plan to life.
While your left is slowly fingering her wet pussy, your right hand is now reaching for her wrists. Already knowing what you have in mind, Yoona gladly raises her arms. Standing next to her, you are greeted with the magnificent sight of her left armpit.
The slight sweat on her skin sparkles in the sunlight from outside. You unconsciously take a deep breath, enjoying Yoona's scent. After you spend hours after hours worshiping her entire body, you know how she tastes everywhere and how she smells too. Usually sweet, with a hint of sweat, because it's a hot day.
After taking another breath and pushing a second finger inside of her, you stick out your tongue and place it right underneath her armpit. Yoona lets out a deep moan. This combination has always made her cum pretty quick. And you have limited time right now.
The slight salty taste hits your taste buds as you use one long lick to move your tongue across her armpit.
"That's it, baby. Lick your mommy clean."
Yoona moans out loud as she feels your tongue now delivering longs swipes across her armpit. Your fingers in her pussy aren't idle and soon, Yoona succumbs to the pleasure you force onto her.
It takes you a minute or two to complete lick her armpit free of her sweat and just a little longer to reward yourself. The more you can have of her, the better. Yoona's sweat is now replaced by a small amount of your spit.
You change position as you keep your fingers inside her, your thumb now rubbing her clit.
"Hurry, baby. If you don't make me cum..."
Her whispered threat is interrupted by your tongue, finally reaching her armpit on the other side. The saltiness seems to be a little bit more prominent on this side. You gladly lick it all up, while Yoona starts to buck her hips against your hand.
"Damn it!"
She sighs heavier as her breathing becomes faster.
"Make me cum already."
Her heightened arousal makes her a little more aggressive today.
You keep on licking her skin and fingering her pussy. You know that she is slowly getting there. Maybe a couple of licks more. Or maybe a third finger...
"Yoona?"
You stop immediately as you hear someone outside the room. Yoona holds her shakey breath.
"Y-Yeah?"
"We have to get going now."
"Give me a minute, manager-nim!"
Yoona quickly urges you to pull your fingers out of her. As if you wouldn't have thought of that yourself.
"This isn't over."
She looks up at you with that fire in her eyes, once she is done making herself look presentable.
"As soon as I'm home..."
She let's that threat linger in the air as she walks out of the room. Yes, this is one of those days. But today seems more intense than usual. You wonder, if you asked for it, would Yoona let that raging fire consume her? Would she let go off her primal instinct and use your body for her pleasure, without thinking about you?
A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine. What do you have to do to make that happen?
You know that Yoona will be busy for the rest of the day. You're sure she mentioned something about a magazine cover photoshoot, but you can't remember. Her schedule is stuffed with way too much events and appointments for you to know all of them.
And that's why she catches you by surprise, when she suddenly crashes through the door to her apartment.
"I have ten minutes."
It looks like she is on a break again. And it seems she came straight from the photoshoot. She is still wearing that outfit.
And you can tell by the fact, that she only came here for sex, that she is close to breaking.
You try to get off the couch you are lying on, but Yoona is quicker. The advantage of her skirt is, that she can just sit down on your face, without having to undress.
Barely ten seconds after she came home and your tongue is already buried inside her wet pussy. Yoona quickly holds onto your hair with both hands. Too impatient for you to find the proper rhythm, she just starts to ride your face. You have no choice but to lie there, enjoying the taste of Yoona's sweet pussy.
A minute passes. Then two. Then three. You do your best, trying to get her off as quick as possible. But that small voice at the back of your head starts to talk. What if...
Yoona breathes heavily and leans forward, trying to catch her breath, as she realizes that this isn't enough. Not enough for her to orgasm. Not enough for her to satisfy her hunger.
She quickly gets off your face, leaving you with trails of her juices all over it. Before you can react, your pants are already off. And a second later, Yoona has already straddled you, her pussy hovering above your cock.
"Oh, damn. That cock."
She sighs, her eyes closing in bliss as she impales herself on your cock. Without even thinking about it, one of her hands move towards your throat. She keeps riding you, her pleasure now increasing by the second. After almost getting caught earlier today, she really needs to find that high right now.
"M-Mommy."
She hears you coughing after calling her. Her eyes shoot open and she realizes that she has been choking you. Yoona quickly moves her hand away, an apologetic look in her eyes. She has never done that before. She never let herself go that far.
"Babe..."
She wants to say sorry, wants to apologize. And yet, a small part of her mind tells her to put her hand back on your throat. To make you cough, while she rides you like a dildo, not giving a damn about your well-being.
It scares Yoona for a moment. Those thoughts. But she can also see that you seem to know, what's going on inside of her.
Her eyes grow wide as you slowly start to nod your head.
No need for words. Yoona takes a deep breath, before she puts her hands back on your throat. For the first time, she starts to let go of herself.
You lie on the couch with wide open eyes. Yoona left barely a minute ago. It's hard for you to get up. You didn't expect her to go that hard. She rode you like her life depended on it. You were barely able to take it yourself, her pace and power were almost too much for you. Reaching for your throat, you grimace in pain. It's not that bad, but you don't need a mirror to know that that's gonna leave bruises.
You are glad you were able to cum, just in time, before Yoona came herself. You wonder if she would've cared about your orgasm at that point. Maybe not. But that thought alone almost makes you reach for your cock, which is still wet with her juices.
The rest of your day goes by without anything major happening. You are excited about what is gonna happen tonight. Despite having climaxed earlier, Yoona still didn't look very satisfied.
Trying to make time go by faster, you sit down in front of your computer, planing on gaming a little, until she comes home.
"Turn it off."
You almost have a heart attack, when you suddenly hear Yoona's voice. You didn't hear her come home.
"H-Hi, babe."
Her tone made it clear, that this day is still not over. The only question is, how rough Yoona is going to be with you.
Once you turn off the computer and look at her properly, you know what kind of sex she has in mind. She is now wearing a different outfit. Probably another one from her photoshoot.
"You look gorgeous."
You can tell she is holding in a smile as she leans down, to be at your eye level.
"I've had a long day..."
You get the hint as you stand up, just to walk her over towards the bed. Knowing you have the rest of the night, you start slowly. First, her hands. You kiss each of her knuckles and the back of her hands. She sighs, as Yoona lies on the bed, enjoying your work.
You soon move upwards, switching from one arm to the other, while you pepper her skin with kisses. It's smoothness takes your breath away every time. How can she be this beautiful?
Reaching her shoulders, you take a short trip to her collarbone, licking along it's length, before returning to her shoulders. Yoona lets out a satisfied hum. But you know that, at least today, this won't satisfy her enough. You move her arms away from her body a little, giving you access to her pits.
"Baby. I need to fuck you."
Yoona sighs, her first words since she told you to take care of her.
You know what she means by that. The fire in her eyes still there. As you dive in, licking her right armpit, you know that she is thinking about something far different from just riding you, like she did earlier today.
Yoona's fire urges her on to take control. To take you. To make you hers. And there's only one way you will truly be hers.
Yoona shifts around a little, while you keep worshipping her body. Once you're finished with licking her armpit clean, you kiss along her collarbone towards the other one, before diving in again.
Her hand finds itself in your hair as she lets out a heavier sigh.
"I need to-to take you. Now."
You realize that Yoona is approaching her breaking point. Should you push further? Ignore her real needs for just a couple of moments longer?
You eventually decide to be forward.
"You can do what you want with me, mommy."
You kiss her armpit one last time, before looking up at her face.
"Please. Be as rough as you want."
This is the only way for her to be happy today. To be satisfied. And you are more than willing to help.
"A-Are you sure?"
You nod your head yes.
"Do with me what you want."
You can see that dangerous fire flicker in her eyes. Yoona's inner voices are fighting each other. Eventually, she pushes you off of her, before she jumps off the bed. You watch her walk towards the big closet. Once she opens it, you can see what's lying on the middle shelf.
Four dildos, lined up and sorted by length. A belt, to make a strap on out of one of them, on their right. You gulp, knowing that there is no turning back now.
It's not like this your first time. Usually, at least one of you is in the mood for it. And you are the one, who decides which one gets used, before you start.
But you are very aware that Yoona is already using the one on the right. She put it on the belt already and is now tying it around her waist. The biggest one.
Her black outfit seems to fit the blue plastic perfectly. You don't choose that one very often. But now you know Yoona's true thoughts. The others aren't big enough for her taste.
"Strip."
She says, before even having turned around.
You hesitate for a moment. It's not that you don't trust her. It's the fact that you don't trust that fire within her. How far will she go...
Yoona's movement quickly makes you jump into action. As she turns around, you're just getting rid off your pants. She steps towards the edge of the bed as you take your shirt off.
Without a word, Yoona stares at you, lust burning in her eyes. She does a come hither motion with a finger, making you crawl towards her.
"Suck my cock, baby. If you don't want to get hurt..."
Yoona only used lube at the beginning. But after having tried this a couple of times, she started to make you suck the dildo first, before pegging you. Your own spit being the lubricant. That should've been a sign that something like this would come sooner rather than later. A sign you should've read.
You look up at Yoona as you open your mouth. Her fiery gaze stares back at you. You can't tell how rough she is going to be exactly. Should you be using a safe word?
But as Yoona pushes her hips forward, the blue dildo pushing past your lips, you realize that the time for setting a safe word has long past. You feel the plastic in your mouth, the unforgiving material dragging along your tongue. Yoona places her hand on the back of your head, holding you in place as she forces you to take it all at once. The tip slightly grazes the back of your throat, once your lips reach the base.
"Look up."
You do as your told. Yoona stares down at you, her face cold, while her eyes are burning. You catch her biting her lip slightly, before she moves her hips back. A moment later, she pushes them forward again. She starts to pick up the pace soon after, letting her other hand wander towards the back of your head as well.
Yoona is now fucking your face. Not as hard and fast as you occasionally do with her, but enough for you to cough once in a while. Due to her constant thrusts, the blue plastic is eventually covered in your saliva. Some of the liquid is already staining your lips and chin.
"What a good boy you are, sucking mommy's cock."
Up until now, you had both of your hands placed on the mattress, supporting your weight. Now, knowing how horny Yoona is, you reach forward with one hand. Since she is wearing a one piece, it was hard for you worship her whole body just now. So you try to make up for it by placing your hand between her thighs.
"That's right, baby. Mommy comes first."
Yoona slows down a little to make it easier for you to rub her pussy through the black fabric. Whenever you send really big jolts of pleasure through her body, Yoona thrusts forward uncontrollably. And soon, she is fucking your mouth again, while you try to pleasure her.
"Press harder."
You follow her orders, applying more pressure on her pussy.
"Fuck, yes!"
Yoona hisses loudly at the sudden increase of pleasure. Her hips move as fast as your hand, the two of you in a silent competition on who can go the fastest. It doesn't take long for Yoona to win as she forced herself inside of you exceptionally deep, making you gag and lose control of her your hand.
"Turn around."
She tells you, while you still recover from her sudden attack.
Once you do, you feel Yoona climb on the bed as well, kneeling behind you.
"If you are going to be a good boy and take it well"
Yoona leans over you slightly, the wet plastic pressing against your ass cheeks. It sends a shiver down your spine as you know very well what's next.
"I will reward you by letting you lick and kiss every single part of me."
It's an offer you can't refuse. For one, because you would do anything to get that opportunity. And two, because you are literally unable to refuse. Even if you would try, Yoona would just laugh at you.
You feel the dildo poke your butt hole as Yoona readies herself. She lets her hands wander over your cheeks, before she reaches underneath you. A moment later, her hand holds your cock, slowly stroking it.
"Don't cum too early, baby. Last time, you made a mess of yourself while cuming."
One would think that Yoona is just being considerate. But her tone says otherwise. It drips with her lust and you can tell that that's exactly what she wants. For you to lose control over your body as you cum.
Finally, Yoona slowly pushes forward. You breath a little heavier as you try to adjust to the new feeling.
"Relax, or this is gonna hurt."
Usually, Yoona would stop if you had trouble taking it and speak some encouraging words.
Not this time. Instead of waiting, she pushes the plastic tip past the ring of your muscles. You hold onto the sheets as Yoona slowly pulls you towards her, while she moves forward.
More and more of her length you take. Inch by inch, the blue dildo stretches your ass.
"Oh fuck, baby. Your ass looks so tight."
One of her hands squeezes your cheeks, while the other keeps stroking your cock. You grit your teeth as Yoona pushes further. Having taken this dildo a couple of times already, you can tell that you're halfway there. You feel every new inch drag past your muscles.
You feel fuller than before as Yoona keeps going. She doesn't stop, until you've finally taken it all.
"Good boy, taking all of mommy's cock."
Yoona whispers sweet nothings into your ear. You know that this only the calm before the storm.
Without asking if you are ready, which she would usually do, Yoona starts to pull out of you. Your hole clamps down on the plastic, not wanting it to leave your body. Just when only the tip remains inside, Yoona pushes forward again. She does this very slowly a couple of times, before she starts to pick up the pace.
It hurts a little as she becomes faster, but you don't complain. You can take it and you don't want to get on her bad side.
"Oh, damn. You're so hard already."
The whole time, Yoona has kept stroking your cock. She removes her hand for a moment and you hear her spit on it. Her now wet hand goes back to working your cock, while the plastic cock in your ass keeps moving back and forth.
Just as you are getting adjusted to the current pace, Yoona starts to fuck you faster. Some thrust leaves you breathless as she pushes your face into the mattress with her power.
"Mommy..."
You don't dare ask her to stop, but you need to warn her. You feel like you are losing control. Your thighs start to shake, your cock twitching a little.
"Not, yet."
You can tell she is gritting her teeth as she fucks you from behind. Both her hands are now on your ass as she keeps up the pace. Soon, she is pounding away with no regard for your comfort. The plastic inside of you drags along your inner walls and keeps splitting you open.
"Mommy..."
It seems that is the only word that you can force off your lips. As she takes your ass, you can tell that Yoona is really enjoying herself. Her nails are slightly digging into your flesh as she holds a tight grip on you. Apart from her breathing, which is now a little faster, you can hear her deep moans and an occasional grunt.
"Mommy, I think I'm gonna-"
You suddenly have a mouthful of the mattress. Yoona has pushed your head down to shut you up, ignoring your warnings that you're about to cum.
You can't help it. The plastic dildo in your ass keeps dragging along your inner walls as Yoona fucks you hard. You hiss, feeling slight pain, as she bottoms out inside of you.
You want to warn her again. Tell her you're about to cum on the sheets. But your words are muffled by the mattress, while Yoona keeps fucking you further into it.
"Don't cum too early, baby."
She mocks you, her hand finding it's way to your cock again. She squeezes it slightly while she strokes you faster and faster. Timed with her thrusts, her handjob pushes you further towards your climax.
Because you can't talk, you can do nothing but take Yoona's cock in silence. You feel your back arch as Yoona pushes your head even further into the mattress. It enables her to drive herself even deeper into you.
That's the final push you needed. You let out a deep moan as you climax immediately. Yoona's dildo feels even bigger now, her hand drains you of all of your cum. You can tell you've ruined the sheets, without even having to look.
"You've taken mommy's cock so well, baby."
Yoona leans down to kiss your cheek. For the first time today, she seems to genuinely care for you.
"Time for your reward."
You lift your head, once Yoona has removed her hand. You fall to the side, still breathing a little heavily.
Yoona uses your small break to untie the belt, before tossing it off the bed. She straddles you and leans over you with an expectant look.
You move your head upwards to lap at her armpits, cleaning her off the sweat that had just build up over the last couple of minutes.
"Get your tongue in there, yes!"
Yoona sighs in delight. You let your hands wander over her clothed back, trying to find the zipper. Once you do, you slowly reveal what's been hiding underneath her one piece.
You move from her armpits, over her collarbone, towards her chest. You suck on Yoona's nipples, once your reach them. She moans out loud. Her tits are quite sensitive, especially while you dedicate yourself to worshipping her body.
More and more of her skin gets covered in kisses, until you've been everywhere at least once.
"Make me cum, baby."
Yoona quickly strips off her entire one piece, now leaning over you completely naked. The sight makes you hard again already. She quickly lowers herself onto your cock. Just like earlier, she doesn't wait for you to adjust yourself. She quickly picks up the pace, using your cock like a dildo.
"Use your tongue, damn it."
She groans as you stop for a couple of seconds, because you are too captivated by her beauty.
While she rides you, you keep your tongue on the skin of her upper body. You make sure you don't miss a spot. Her tight midriff, her chest, her collarbone, her shoulders, her pits. All deserve equal attention as you do your best to reach each spot.
Eventually, the combination of your cock inside of her and your tongue all over her pleasure her too much, Yoona finally orgasms on top of you. Her body shakes as she rides out her high.
Once she comes down, you are surprised by feeling her getting off of you.
"Mommy-?"
You'd hoped she would allow you to stay inside her longer. Maybe even cum in her.
"You are not done yet."
Yuna turns around and lies on her stomach on top of you. She purposefully puts her feet in the direction of your face. You feel her lips wrap around your cock, while you dart your tongue out to get your first taste of her feet today.
As you shift around a little, you can tell that your going to be sore tomorrow. But it won't be too bad. Because once she woke up, Yoona will be the beautiful sunshine she usually is. You wonder how long it's gonna take until her next rampage.
------------
Hi, everyone.
This is the first time I tried writing kinks like armpits and pegging, so the quality might not be as good as you expected. But I hope you were still enjoying reading it.
Stay healthy!
#ask#anon#kpop#kpop smut#kpop girls#kpop gg#male reader#yoona girls generation#girls generation smut#girls generation#lim yoona#snsd yoona#yoona snsd#yoona#snsd smut#snsd
331 notes
·
View notes
Text
Feedist Kinktober 2024 - Day 1
"Transformation🔀"
The sweet liquid crosses your lips and coats your tongue as it slides down your throat. The flavor is implacable but it feels familiar and comforting all the same. As the last drops of thick, pink syrup empty disappear into your mouth, you eye the bottle. It's a small, amber vial, like something you'd expect medicine to come in. The lid has come complete with a small dropper, the recommended dose only a few drops a day. You were never one for portion control. The label was simple, plain, a smiling cartoon pig with a swollen belly.
You turn to the mirror, running your hand along your flat stomach. No matter what you ate, you could never seem to keep the weight on. You had confided in a friend, after a few too many drinks, that you'd always fantasized about being bigger than you are. Around that time was when she, just as inebriated, let her own secret slip.
"To tell you to the truth, I'm actually a... Feeder."
She blushed hard, immediately knowing that what she'd said would change how you thought of her. She really did always seem invested in you eating enough, always making little comments about how you were practically wasting away. It made more sense now. That's when she pulled out the little glass vial.
"If you're serious about getting bigger, this is what you need. 3 drops on your tongue every morning, you won't be able to keep the weight off. I got it for my ex but she chickened out after she outgrew her favorite jeans."
You had taken the bottle, happily.
"Promise me one thing," your friend said, sipping her drink, "when you fill out a bit, call me. I've always thought a few extra pounds would suit you." A wink punctuated the statement, and just like that, the topic changed. Your mind never left that little amber vial for long though. It took a few days to work up the nerve, but you'd done it. You'd drank that sweet, pink syrup.
The sound of your stomach gurgling pulls you from the memory. A sharp pain hits you right in the gut and you start to think you've made a mistake. You've never been so hungry in your life.
You sprint for the fridge, quickly grabbing as much as you can. There's about half a cake sitting on the top shelf and you pick up a slice and start eating it without even thinking. The taste is incredible. Your mind melts. Every bite is somehow better than the last. You keep working through slice after slice as you lay more food across the table. By the time the cake runs out you've laid out an impressive spread for yourself. Brownies, ice cream, chocolate bars, cookies. Part of you thinks it's a feast fit for a king, but you recognize how haphazard it is, how disorganized, food piled high without rhyme or reason. It's a feast fit for a pig.
You keep eating. More and more food vanishes into you like a black hole. At some stage you realize that you can barely breathe, your belly strained against the button of your jeans. You undo the button and feel yourself spread, round, heavy tummy spilling into your lap. You're too busy gorging yourself to realize that your belly is soft and doughy, not stretched taught. And you're still so hungry.
Hours pass, you find yourself discarding your shirt, then your jeans, your bra, until you're sitting in your kitchen fully nude surrounded by empty ice cream tubs and shredded wrappers. You realize that you've managed to eat every last bite, there isn't a damn thing in the house worth eating.
You drag yourself to your feet and waddle to where you left your phone. You call your friend, beg her to come see you, and to bring as much food as she can carry.
"Jesus," she says under her breath when she finally sees you, swollen to an unbelievable size in such a short time, "you look... Amazing."
She lays a hand on you, and it sinks deep into your soft flesh.
"That stuff really does work, huh?" She grins, pulling more snacks from her bag, "you really have turned into such a fat little pig."
#feedist kinktober#feeding kink#feeder girl#feedisn#female ffa#ffa#lesbian feeder#sapphic feedism#female feeder#nsft#feedee encouragement#rapid wg
190 notes
·
View notes
Text
just like magic
a/n: fluffy fluff with price :") hope you enjoy 🤍 apologies if its ooc lmaoo, its been ages since i've written for him ☠
"don't make me say it, i can't say the words"
rolling your eyes, choosing to ignore the words anyway you sit on the lap of your beloved husband. his lips tinted red from the wine he's consumed throughout the night, the dinner after had left him feeling a little more clingy than usual. a little more vulnerable than he cared to admit to you or to himself.
his calloused hands were wandering, trying to memorise every part on your skin even though he could map out each and every area on your body that melted for him or made you chuckle with his eyes closed. but holding onto your body, your skin as if you'd disappear away from him.
"i think that's a lie, i think you can say those words john price" accentuating his full name elicits a small groan from his lips, something about when you took charge and commanded him brought him to his knees. a side of him price didn't usually feel safe to show others but you were different. even after the months of marriage, his heart still ached with love as it had done on the first day he had the pleasure of glancing at you. as it had done on the night you had captured his heart and held it hostage
your fingers ran though his hair scratching gently on his scalp. and he relishes in it, his eyes closing out of habit as a soft appreciative hum left his lips. he can't help but rock underneath you, bringing you in as his lips barely skimmed your jaw resting softly across the corner on your lip.
"you're a menace, you know that?" his grumble caresses your skin so softly causing a soft chuckle to fall from you and a hint of smile from him. he reached in for a kiss but you kept yours still, rigid.
tonight, you were on a mission. and certainly not one to settle for any less so you refused to kiss back causing price to sigh heavily already missing the affections. his hold on your waist tightened, breathing in the sweet musk of you and your perfume softly as he rests his forehead besides your shoulder. the words could just spill from him, you had him wrapped around your pretty finger and he didn't complain about it not once.
"iloveyou" he mumbles in your neck, breath tickling your chest. it makes you giggle, gently pushing him back. your hands lace with his bigger ones, shaking your head
"what was that?" you whispered, gently moving his face back into your sight. another huff leaves his lips but this time, there's amusement floating in his baby blues. scanning every part of your features, unable to fall hopelessly in love with you as the days went on. as if words could possibly do the emotions he felt deep down any justice, as if they could possibly come close to the love pouring out of him whenever you were nearby.
he leaned his forehead against your own, lips pulled in a small smile as his hands come to hold yours. he gently placed your open palm across his chest, his heartbeat a steady reminder that he was right there in your arms tucked away from everyone and everything that demanded his attention
"i love you, pretty. alright? i just..." he breaks off, breathing a little deeper than usual. it had been such a stark contrast, most of his youth and adult life protecting the world and closing off his heart from love. never daring to fall into it, knowing the tradegy and pain all too well. choosing to live in the moment with his work, the missions, the deployments, the long nights. keeping himself busy from the loneliness that threatened to swallow him whole
but then there you were, you came into life like an earthquake shattering his cold world completely. with you, he understood finally those sappy lyrics to songs he used to skip on the radio. with you, he understood why it felt like the hours in the day were just never enough.
how no one could hold a flame to the fire that burned for you inside him, the embers igniting deeper and more intense than he had ever anticipated but for once in his life, he didn't mind it. the leader to one of the most dangerous taskforce, calm and controlled in every aspect of his life but when it came to you everything slipped down the drain.
he wasn't the captain, he wasn't a solider, he was john price. yours, that was all that mattered. you tilted his world on its axis and for once in his life, he was reckless. he loved it, for how could he not? it landed him you, the you that he adored with every part of him.
"you're the reason i get up every morning and the reason i come back. it's soppy and mushy but you know have my heart, love. you always did" his voice is soft as he nears the end of his confession, his head resting against yours as he looked at your body splayed across his lap. larger hands intertwined together with yours, his fingers stroking soft circles across your knuckle.
there's really nothing more he could think of, you were in his heart and head no matter where he went. he was a man of few words but the ones he did have, he hoped you could understand the sincerity and the truth behind them
"i love you too" you whisper, tenderly holding his face between your palms. your thumbs sweep across the high points of his cheeks, hands resting gently across his beard giving into him completely. it was a magnetic pull, you couldn't help but bare your soul to him wanting to let him in.
your arms went behind his neck, pulling him towards you desperately as he all but melts in your embrace pushing you closer to his chest. as you got lost in the feeling of him, a surety had rose, lodged deep in his throat. his hands hold you as if you'll slip through his fingers, his lips on yours with a deep force that coursed through his veins. deepening the kiss as though your lips were his drug and he wouldn't be able to find his salvation anywhere.
he knew for certain one thing, it'll be you always. for as long as you will let him. for as long as you'll have him.
#call of duty modern warfare#cod mwii#john price#john price x y/n#john price x reader#john price x reader fluff#john price x you#captain price
192 notes
·
View notes