#just every aspect of their personality fucking annoys me

[lilgynt]

oh my god. oh my god. so people were asking me how i was doing bc i came in crying in fuckin crutches right? and my coworkers who weren’t sitting next to me hit me up in the group chat and they’re like are you okay and im like explaining my issues and im debating on staying or going to quick care and the fucking coworker i hate is like imma leave early and starts explaining why THEY left when people are asking what the fuck my issue is.

[nomaishuttle]

perhaps a lot of my b*tw issues are actually due to my own expectations for the game and by extension my dislike for botw fans

[gothamcityneedsme]

listening to the me:a ost for work and tbh it is incredible how much me:a is an improvement on the 'bioware open world game' formula. like i still think its weaker but in comparison to da:i, me:a is infinitely more playable and feels more full of an actual soul.

Like. I have 100%-ed both games. I will NEVER 100% da:i again, and honestly im not sure if i would even *play* it again. meanwhile i, 1000%, would replay me:a, and i could even see myself doing everything in it again. The grind isnt unbearable, gives you time to hear other party convos, and lots of the sidequests have memorable characters and concepts

[cazshmere]

Astrology Observations Pt. 8 🦂

materialist🔖

DISCLAIMER: These are just my personal observations and are meant for entertainment purposes only; it may not resonate with everyone due to the nuances of astrology. Please respect my work and avoid copying or stealing it. Enjoy reading!! 🦂

🦂 I think people who have their chiron in the 3rd/7th or 11th house may experience significant insecurity about posting on social media and being in front of a camera, or even commenting under various posts online. They often overthink the things they put out online/the things they were going to post online 😭 and also if they post pictures/videos they might rewatch the picture/video 984726261 times and often find a SOME tiny fault and convince themselves to delete whatever it is that they have posted. This placement can create a deep-seated fear of judgment and a tendency to second-guess every public interaction

🦂I have noticed that scorpio moons and capricorn moons have very involved and critical mothers/parents, exhibiting behaviors typical of helicopter parenting. For instance they could micromanage every single thing you do or have some sort of comment to make about every little thing you do (also applicable to aries and virgo moons). I also feel that cappy and scorpio moons may find it the hardest to detach from their generational trauma because their parents may have instilled strict principles/beliefs into them and they end up carrying forward all these beliefs which in return makes them more susceptible to repeating toxic patterns which then ends up causing A LOT of trauma to these individuals ❤️‍🩹

🦂 honestly taurus placements aren’t always mindful and demure, despite being ruled by venus. Most taurus placements (esp sun,moon and mars) are NOT afraid to call people out on their bs and are extremely straightforward and direct. The type to insult you straight to your face if you annoy them or smtg 😭 and you’d be like ouch, what was the reason for that??💀. They can come across as arrogant and rude sometimes BUT this all makes a lot of sense as a lot of them tend to be sidereal aries placements after all🙏😂

🦂 speaking of sidereal placements I wanna talk about how virgos can be super playful and child-like (esp with the people they are comfortable with) because they’re leo placements in sidereal + virgo placements also really crave attention, sometimes way more than Leo’s tbh✨

🦂 aries and scorp moon/venus women often attract guys who initially start off as wanting to be/being their “friends” BUT the only reason they wanted to be their friend in the first place is because they see potential for a romantic/sexual relationship with them. It’s sad because literally every guy friend you have/had TOTALLY had other intentions that weren’t platonic 🥲

🦂 having placements in the 2nd house (esp if there are no harsh aspects) just mellows down the intensity of the placement. For instance moon in the 2nd house people can regulate their emotions much more stable and easy manner. Having placements in the 2nd house is such a BLESSING.

🦂 if you think you know someone with a scorpio moon, moon in the 8th house or moon-pluto native, trust me you DON’T😭. no one will ever KNOW every single part of them. They remind me of onions yk? SO MANY LAYERS to them and no one will ever truly know everything about them

🦂 also idk if I’ve mentioned this before but CAN WE JUST TAKE A MINUTE TO APPRECIATE HOW FUCKING FUNNY/HUMOROUS CANCER PLACEMENTS ARE???? literally SO SO witty and make you laugh till your stomach hurts😭🫶🏻

🦂 with age, saturn in cancer natives can look a lot like their mothers 💗

🦂 shadow traits are often expressed through the moon and mars, as these planets govern our raw emotions and drives. For example, an aries moon’s may react with impulsive outbursts and frustration, while a scorpio mars might exhibit controlling, obsessive, or manipulative behaviors to maintain power. These primal reactions tend to surface under stress or vulnerability. To work on your shadow self, it's helpful to focus on your Moon and Mars placements, as these often reveal where you're repeating or expressing toxic behaviors. By understanding how these signs influence your emotional reactions and drive, you can better recognize and address patterns that need healing.

banner/pic credits to the rightful owners

© cazshmere 2024 [All Rights Reserved]

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time He Scared The Life Out Of Me”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: metal-vocalist!Sukuna, fluff, you’re both basically frenemies

Word Count: 1.4k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

You and Sukuna don’t tend to be home at the same time, you’d think you would see him all the time considering, you know, you live together and all, but you honestly don’t really know all that much about him. You know he rides a motorcycle, ‘cause every time he pulls up to the apartment late at night it’s blaring loud engine wakes you up, and you know he listens to metal music because it’s blasting through his speaker in the bathroom right now as he’s taking a shower next to your room; maybe he’s going deaf, that’s probably a safe assumption considering everything around him is so loud.

Hell, everything about him is loud. Not only literally, like how he can never walk to your room to come get you and instead opts to yell across the apartment, but it’s as if every aspect of him doesn’t know subtlety. He’s always wearing over the top clothes, spiked leather jackets, torn to shreds t-shirts, jeans with patches sewn into every available spot, his pink hair and his face tattoos drawing everyone’s attention, everything is so maximalist. And his personality, you swear he’s never backed down from anything. Anything he does, he does it with passion, he does it big, and he does it bold.

Basically, you don’t know peace when he’s home, and you especially don’t know peace this morning, being rudely awoken by his blaring music in the bathroom between both of your bedrooms. Technically it’s not his fault that this overpriced apartment only has one bathroom, but for Christ’s sake it’s six in the morning, what is he even doing awake right now?

You grab your pillow from under your head and smother your face underneath it, attempting anything to be able to sleep in on your day off.

He drives me fucking insane.

The pillow definitely helps muffle the sound, but it’s not enough; and it definitely isn’t enough to cover the sudden low growling coming from the bathroom. You slowly uncover your face, brows furrowed as you’re trying to figure out what that noise is before it suddenly jumps in volume, like some kind of scream, making you nearly jump out of your bed. What the fuck is that? Did a pipe burst? Did the ceiling collapse?

It sounds like some kind of lion- or maybe a demon, horrific screaming growls coming from the next room. You slowly raise yourself off of your bed, timidly stepping out of your room and taking a few steps to stand outside of the bathroom door. It’s definitely coming from in there, but Sukuna doesn’t seem to have any reaction to it. Surely there’s no way he doesn’t hear that, right?

Oh my god, he really is going deaf isn’t he?

“Sukuna?!” You yell from the other side of the door, the low growling sound abruptly stops.

“What?” He yells back, he sounds annoyed. Annoyed? You’re trying to save him from a lion that just fell through the ceiling, or… something, and he’s seriously annoyed?

“What the fuck is that noise?” You can hear the shower stop running and his music shut off, after a moment of waiting the door swings open. Sukuna stands before you, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and his pink bangs hanging over his eyes, dripping water down his cheeks.

“What? You don’t like it?” He grins at you before turning to face the mirror, swiping his palm over the fogged up glass to create a clearing to see his reflection in.

“It sounded like something was dying, please tell me that wasn’t you.” You step into the steamy bathroom, leaning your back against the wall and watching his grin grow wider through his reflection in the blurry mirror.

Sukuna grabs a clean towel from the floor, rubbing it over his hair and down his face, his voice muffled through the fabric, “I was practicing.”

He drops the towel from his face and drapes it around the back of his neck, glancing back at you in the mirror as he combs his hair out of his face with his fingers, he bites his lip to try and hide the snarky grin spreading across his face when he sees the confused look you give him, “Practicing for what? Are you auditioning to play a monster in a play or something?”

“Oh please,” He rolls his eyes and turns to face you, you’re not fast enough to catch your gaze before it drifts down to the droplets of water running down his tattooed abs and he simply snaps his fingers in front of your face to grab your attention back, seemingly unfazed by you accidentally checking him out, “I’m in a band, believe it or not I do the vocals.”

A faint blush started to paint your cheeks, but it’s quickly overshadowed by the way your jaw drops in mock horror, “Oh my god, that was you singing?”

“Oh fuck off,” He huffs out a short laugh, “I’m in a metal band, I actually scream.” He grabs the towel from around his neck, tossing it over your head and pushing past you to walk to his room.

“Hey! Asshole,” You tear the towel down from your face, letting it plop onto the tile at your feet, “You can’t just scream first thing in the morning! You scared the fuck out of me!”

He turns around to face you, wrapping a large hand around the top of the doorframe and leaning his side against it, “Consider us even then, you got me real good when you woke me up to you screaming Bloody Mary over a little fuckin’ spider.”

“That was different, I was scared! That’s a normal reason to scream!”

“Yeah?” He leans down to be eye level with you, speaking in a mocking tone, “Well I saw how much you shed all over the shower and was horrified.”

“You’re such a dick,” You turn to pull the shower curtain back, “There’s not even- oh, well, there’s like two strands, god forbid.”

He grins as he stands back at his full height, taking a few steps back into the hall and opening up the door to his room, you quickly follow behind him, looking up towards him, “Why didn’t you ever tell me you’re in a band?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, keeping the door open as he walks into his dimly lit room, “You never asked.”

You stand in his doorway, peering around his room. The walls are covered in posters and some most likely stolen street signs, but aside from the eclectic decor it’s surprisingly neat, “Is your music any good?”

He opens his closet door and then turns his head to face you, speaking to you in a monotone voice, “Can I put some clothes on or do you wanna talk to me with my cock out?”

A blush creeps onto your cheeks as you toss your hands up into the air defensively, turning around to give him some privacy, “My bad.”

You can hear Sukuna chuckle behind you and the quiet sounds of fabric moving around his skin, “Is it good? Well, you’d probably think it sounds like… what did you say? A dying animal?”

You grin and bite the inside of your cheek, “A dying animal or maybe the horrific screams of the unknown, either one.”

He lets out a satisfied hum, “Horrific screams of the unknown is a good album name, I’ll have to write that down.”

“I’ll be expecting royalties.”

“Don’t expect shit,” You suddenly feel a wet towel smack against your back, making you jump and yell out in surprise, “Brat.”

“Ew!” You turn around to find him standing right behind you, smug grin plastered on his face and both of his hands shoved into the pockets of the black sweatpants he threw on, opting out of putting on a shirt and instead leaving his tattooed torso on full display.

“Hm? Thought you’d want that,” He snaps his fingers in front of your face again, “Freak.”

Oh, oh he knows what he’s doing. You didn’t even realize how you were looking at him before he caught you, but it’s not like it’s your fault that he looks like that.

You let out a groan and turn around to walk down the hall to your room, “I’m going back to bed.”

He really drives me insane more than I thought he would.

Little do you know, he’s thinking a similar thought about you.

A/N: THIS is the one I intended to be the first part before I got too excited and wrote the one where y’all quarantine together instead, but shhhh we can just pretend this one takes place before that!! Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[azrielbrainrot]

Old Habits

Pairing: Lucien x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Public Sex

Description: You and Lucien can't seem to stay away from each other.

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, public sex, fingering for like a second, dirty talk

Word Count: ~1,4k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Kinktober 2024 Mastelist

“We shouldn't be doing this,” you murmur, trying your best to hold onto your sanity.

Lucien's chuckle sounds muffled against your skin, his teeth busy marking your neck as his hands roam under your dress, only using his hips to hold you up against the door. You really needed to push him away, anyone could find you here, but for some reason your body was unwilling to listen, your head falling back against the door.

“That has never stopped you before.”

You hate that he's right, almost as much as you hate yourself for letting him touch you like this. Lucien had a hold over you, that much was obvious, which is why you should have left the minute you saw him walk into the banquet hall, his mismatched eyes finding yours immediately, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. You were a bit ashamed that all it took was a few sinful words whispered in your ear and he was leading you out of the hall and into this empty closet with a hand on the small of your back.

Calling what you had a relationship was giving it too much credit. You were both drawn to each other like moths to a flame, but you had never truly made it official since you were so different in almost every meaningful aspect of your personalities. The only time you could spend more than a few minutes without arguing was when you were fucking, and Gods, was the sex amazing. It shouldn't be fair that this male that annoyed you to no end could also play your body like it was made just for him.

A particularly hard bite has you letting out a gasp, your hand tangling in his hair so you could get him away from your neck at least. Keeping quiet and hiding his scent from you would be hard enough, you didn't need his teeth carved into your skin as well.

“Why don't we make a bet?” Lucien asks after you pull him away, looking into your eyes with arrogance. “If I put my hand in your panties and don't find you wet for me, I'll stop and walk away.”

Your glare sharpens, a fire burning behind your eyes as if you were the one with the Autumn Court powers. You both knew what he'd find, your scent was almost overbearing in this cramped room, sickly sweet with arousal. His hand drags up your thigh teasingly, raising goosebumps on its way, and when he finally reaches your covered cunt, his smirk widens, the soaked fabric clinging to your folds, a shiver running through your body as he traces the valley between them.

“Oh princess,” he taunts, a victorious look etching itself over his features, one that unfortunately made him even more annoyingly attractive. “I think you missed me more than you'd like to admit.”

You both know you did, you missed his touch and the sweet words he whispers in your ear, the way his hands caress your skin and how perfectly his cock fits inside you. You both knew you couldn't stay away from each other, not for long. You just wished he didn't accept his fate so easily, that he also felt at least a bit embarrassed of the effect you had on him.

“Just fuck me, Lucien,” you murmur defeatedly, closing your eyes and taking in a deep breath. There was no use denying how much you needed him.

“There's my girl.”

A whine escapes your lips, his hand moving into your underwear as soon as the words leave his mouth, expert fingers spreading your wetness around and circling your clit, only to feel you tremble against him, your nails biting into his shoulders.

“Look at me, pretty,” he says, an uncharacteristically serious tone falling over his voice. “At least let me watch you if this is all I'm allowed.”

When you open your eyes, you find sincerity in his, and something else, something you couldn't handle. Leaning closer, you take his lips between yours, letting each stroke of his tongue against yours make you forget everything. His hand doesn't stop, two of his fingers finding their way into your cunt, prompting a gasp out of you, one he readily swallows.

“Fuck me, Lucien,” you whisper once again when you pull apart, brushing his lips with every word.

“You sound so sweet when you're not lying to yourself.”

Lucien pecks your lips one more time before he leans back, his hand abandoning you as he unbuttons his pants and pulls his cock out. You can't even see what he's doing, trying your best to keep your legs wrapped around his waist, helping him keep you pressed against the wall and your dress up out of the way.

Just the feeling of his head pressing at your entrance was enough to get a mewl out of you, it really had been too long. He guides his cock inside you with ease, you're so wet he hardly finds any resistance, only letting you adjust for a moment, cooing at how well you take him, before his hips start moving, his eyes never straying from yours.

You were biting your lip so hard you're surprised that it didn't break skin, trying your best to keep quiet when he was so deep inside you. Of course Lucien wasn't having that, angling his hips to hit just the right spot, the one that made you lose your mind, his tongue finding your neck again, licking at the marks he's left behind, humming when your fingers tangled in his hair again, this time holding his face to your skin instead of pulling away.

The party was still very much alive in the banquet hall, but it was also getting late enough that people started wandering about, some to find a quieter place and others for the exact same reason you were locked in this closet. There was no doubt in your mind that anyone that walked into this side of the building could hear you, could smell you even.

“Let it out for me,” he mumbles against your skin, his thumb finding your clit again, rolling it around gently as he grinds into you, whimpers pushing past your lips no matter how hard you try to keep them down. He knew exactly how to touch you, this wasn't a fair fight.

“Lucien,” you moan out, heavy lidded eyes staring into his. Your clothes were too hot and getting in the way, and you could barely move since he still had you pinned against the door as he fucked you. His body moved deliciously against yours, but he radiated too much heat, the fire in his veins singing with every thrust, droplets of sweat rolling down your back and chest, hair sticking to your face. The air in this cramped room felt intoxicating with both of your scents, making you feel even more delirious every time you breathed it in, but in that moment you didn't care, in that moment you felt like you had reached heaven.

“Fuck, there you go. Let everyone know who you belong to,” he lets out, voice deeper with pleasure, keeping his pace so he could push as many of your sweet noises as he could past your lips, holding your gaze as he fucked you close to insanity. “You've always been such a good toy for me. So fucking perfect for me.”

You lose track of yourself as he keeps kissing your neck, murmuring praises against your overheated skin, thumb circling your clit in time with his deep but controlled thrusts. Your high finds you almost unexpectedly, threatening to take your breath away as your head falls back against the dark wood. Moans and whimpers flow past your lips unattended, echoing around the room, mind too empty to care about anything but how good he was making you feel.

Lucien fucks you through it, soothing you through gritted teeth as your cunt fluttered wildly around his cock and your body trembled against his, only stopping when you're shaking too much, mewls escaping you and nails sinking into his skin as sensitivity started showing its teeth, pumping his cum deep into you, holding you closer to him.

He leans his forehead against yours, catching your breaths as you both come down back to earth, his cock still seated inside you, and your arms wrapped around him, holding him so close you could feel his heart beating in his chest. At least in these moments you were all that mattered, and everything felt perfect.

[dysthoepiadaily]

I saw this take the other day on twitter, and it made me kind of annoyed bc... way to miss the point, and to show that Dan was right and that it was too niche for you, LOL.

People do like Dan because of his authenticity and wit, but also... it's not that simple. Dystopia Daily, in many ways, was extremely authentic in the emotion it was trying to convey.

I think dystopia daily was more of a commentary on just youtuber culture in general, the desperate need for youtubers to remain popular at around a time when they were losing relevance. This led to a lot of them desperately collabing with one another, "exposing" more and more of their private lives in hopes that the more they give to the camera, to the audience, the audience won't abandon them (Dan and Phil finally tell the truth, Dan's grandma explains the internet).

There's a sort of "giving the people what they want" aspect to it, as well... "This kitten cured my depression", an obviously hyperbolic title, but something the audience wants from him... People want a STORY with youtubers, a sort of triumphant arc, but youtubers aren't actually able to deliver that triumphant arc in the way that the audience wants, because youtubers aren't fictional characters, they're real people.

There's just a brutality in the performer/audience relationship. If the audience doesn't get what they want, they'll just abandon the performer, and the industry is COMPETITIVE, and really unfair. Some of the shittest and laziest content will get a lot of views, while others don't get views when their content is actually interesting and creative! The "literally just reading reddit and monetizing it" and "if I laugh I instantly die" videos have a higher view count than like... "Dan and Dodie do a duet". This is literally modern art, and that's sooo good!!!

The overproduction of it all is by design... It's the point, in many ways, that this guy is being extremely overpaid for content that is objectively bad, but people fall for that kind of thing every time, LOL. It is inauthentic, but it's inauthentic because the personality of Daniel Howell, the host of Dystopia Daily is terrible for youtube views. He's just not the guy he used to be.

Was it the best execution of this concept? I don't know, and I don't really think so (but I am of the belief that art should be easy to understand and this is a VERY debatable point). But, I do think the concept is unique and interesting enough to warrant praise, plus, I think Dan is an ideal person to tell this story... I also think it's hilarious that people were confused about what the fuck it was.

[chrissv4mp]

— I COULD CHANGE YOUR LIFE -

chap 1 , get that girl. — | — ...back — | — next...

summary: the interaction at the diner hasn't left his thoughts, and chris just can't help himself when it comes to your beautiful presence, so he follows you home.

pairing: stalker!chris sturniolo × singer!reader

warnings + topics: cursing, stalking, murder, weapons, blood, obsessive behavior, suggestive moments, breaking & entering, crying, arguments, chris is crazy, choking, drowning, first person, second person, etc. more than half of these topics are mentioned in later chapters.

author's note: if the person reading this is sensitive to any of the topics listed above, please do not read this. i am not responsible for your own media consumption, and will not change any aspect of the story for your own pleasure. (this will be the last time i will state this, please scroll if you're not comfortable.)

author's note 2: he's giving joe goldberg!! this chapter is written mainly in 1st person, & the first half is chris' perspective! i'll clarify that throughout the story.

author's note 3: you guys are getting this a little earlier because i couldn't wait to post it🗣🗣

word count: 2.8k

why are you walking home alone, y/n? it's not safe out here, especially late at night. what if some creep tries to attack you? i know you're smarter than that.

and you're on your phone, clearly unaware of what's going on around you. you're lucky i'm here to keep you safe. i'll always be.

i reach behind my back, grabbing my hood to throw it over my head. if she saw that i was the one following her, she probably wouldn't watch me anymore. she would think i'm a weirdo.

i hear her laugh, and god, i wish that sound could just repeat in my head for a lifetime. it's such a sweet, soft sound, just like her personality. sweet.

"jamie, don't be such a dick. you know the deadline is coming soon and we have to finish the album." i hear her say, and i can't help but flinch at the sudden noise.

who is she talking to? who is jamie, and why is he being a dick to her? nobody should ever even speak a filthy word to her let alone treat her badly, she's such an angel.

her head turns, and i finally get a glimpse of her earbuds. she can't hear me. no wonder why she hasn't turned back every time i step on the gravelly sidewalk. it's such an annoying sound, always calling me out.

y/n sighs, rubbing her temple with one hand as her free one holds the phone up to her ear, "it's like you don't even care if we descend the charts! maybe ask yourself why you're doing this before you go and screw everything up."

she's tense, i can tell from the way she groans under her breath. i can hear jamie's voice, it's quiet but i can make out what he's saying.

something about rerecording background vocals and going over lyrics again. then, he says something inaudible, and now y/n is on video call with him.

she taps a button, and now i can hear him loud and clear, "just listen to this, it really needs some touch-ups."

i can see his face from the way y/n is holding her phone, and suddenly his eyebrows furrow and he looks directly at me.

the music pauses, and y/n stops in her tracks. she's in the middle of the crosswalk, and i'm just a few feet behind her.

"y/n... who is that?" my eyes widen as i realize he's talking about me. she only laughs nervously, shrugging the uncomfortable feeling off.

don't look back, "stop fucking around and just show me the chorus." she huffs out, another laugh leaving her plump lips.

his eyes are still on me through that screen, and i just continue to walk, hoping that my cover won't be blown.

"no, y/n, look behind you. there's a man following you!" he finally yells, and i curse under my breath as i hear y/n's breathing pick up.

her head whips around, and that's when i panic. fuck, why did her house have to be so far away? damn you, jamie.

my first thought is to just rush her, tackle her to the floor and throw her phone on the ground, but i don't because that would result in hurting her. so, i take the second best option, running to my right and into some bushes.

i hear y/n scream from behind me, and then i hear her footsteps finally run off the crosswalk and across the street. my foot gets caught on a stick, and i fall face first into the dirt.

my knees hit the ground, and i groan at the sharp pain of rocks on my flesh. my hands sunk into the mud beneath me, getting the hem of my sweatshirt sleeves dirty, "dude, what the fuck?"

i stand up again, shaking my hands out in front of me in hopes of getting the mud off. some of it does, and a small amount of damage is repaired, but there's still cuts and bruises forming on my lower half.

my eyes wander, looking down at my bloodied knees. why did i even wear jorts today? it's boston, it's not supposed to be hot after 6 pm.

my hands clench into fists, and anger begins to boil under my skin. it feels like it's 90° now, snd i just want to punch something. why do my plans always fucking fail? no matter what i do, the outcome is horrible.

not this time. no, i'm not gonna let this silly little thing mess up my plan. this is just a setback, and there's always downs in life, don't let it get the best of you, chris.

"breathe." i mutter, closing my eyes and taking a few deep breaths. i wish matt was here, he would know what to do. he would console me and tell me everything's gonna be alright.

he would tell me to keep going, get the girl. and that's exactly what i'm gonna do, whether jamie likes it or not. because this is just a minor setback, nothing will stop me from getting y/n. no one will stop me.

"you're starrin' in my dreams,

in magazines,"

it's the next day, and now matt is dabbing the large cut on me with a cotton ball. the hydrogen peroxide stings, and i flinch as he puts a bit more pressure.

"matt!" i groan, reaching for his hand. he swats mine away, looking up into my eyes with a stern expression.

i shut my mouth and just look away, trying not to focus on the pain too much as my brother pushes it against my knee. i hear him let out a long sigh, and then my attention is back on him.

he gives me a knowing look, and then he speaks, "what'd you do this time?" my eyebrows furrow in offense. i never do anything, it's not always my fault.

i scoff, looking around at anything but matt. how could i explain that i was following the love of my life, that doesn't know she's the love of my life yet, home, and then got caught and threw myself into some bushes? he would think i'm a maniac, and that's the last thing i want my older brother to think of me as.

"i tripped on a crack in the sidewalk. it was hugeee, matt, you really should've seen it." way to go, chris, that's so believable.

he shrugs, a smile coming to his face as he laughs, "i'm not even surprised." that was very believable, chris. way to go!

"not surprised is crazy." nick chimes in, and both mine and matt's heads whip up in the direction of his voice.

he's leaning against the door frame of my bedroom, a smug smirk on his face as he squints his eyes to see my knees better, "wow, chris, who pushed you off the slide?"

i just flip him off, they're treating me like a child. i'm smarter than that, i'm tougher than the both of them. well, maybe not nick, but i'm close!

"actually go choke." i groan, throwing myself back against the mattress as disappointment washes over me. if i had just thought before i followed y/n then maybe i would know where she lived, and whoever the fuck jamie is. such a snitch.

matt peels the plastic seal from the bandaid, and then he sticks it onto the cut on my knee. he inhales sharply before getting to his feet again, "alright, you're fine now. take the bandaid off when it stop bleeding, 'kay?"

i only hum in response, my emotions all over the place and getting the best of me. this entire situation is so idiotic and childish, i don't need a bandaid.

nick walks out after matt, making sure to shut the door. wow, he's finally learned after all the times i've scolded him about not closing it.

there's still mud in the crevices between my fingers and under my nails. it's uncomfortable in more than one way. i just want the memory of that night to be gone, erased from my memory for my entire life.

but i'm not ever gonna forget it, and it's gonna be hard to forget when the girl i want is a constant reminder of that incident. it's whatever, though. in the end it will pay off, all the things i'll do for her attention will pay off. i know it will.

my feet begin to swing as they dangle off the edge of my bed, and then they hit something. i finally sit up straight, looking down at where my feet are planted. the box, that box full of magazines and letters, prints and various drawings of y/n.

i look toward my door before grabbing the box and placing it on my bed softly. my fingers hook under the top, and it falls to the side, revealing your face on the covers of multiple magazines.

i never missed a day when rolling stone, variety, and even vogue came out with new magazines that featured y/n on the covers and in all of the pages inside. i even bought some that had her on only a single page, then i cut them out and threw it in here.

nobody could call themselves y/n's biggest fan with me still alive. they don't know her like i do, even if we just met for the first time on—no, even if we just reconnected for the first time in forever yesterday.

"pretty girl." i whisper. even if she can't hear, i know she knows that. she's the prettiest girl in the world, who wouldn't compliment her?

i grab the first magazine, my eyes darting all around her beautiful body and facial features before putting it to the side and admiring the next one. it should be a crime to be this gorgeous, she shouldn't even be allowed outside.

what if something happens to the girl? her security wouldn't care, but i would. the things i'd do for that girl i can't even explain. i don't need her love for that, though, because i can just protect her even when she's not watching. i need her love because that is the only thing that keeps me going.

her interviews where she says how much she loves and appreciates her fans, that keeps me going. that night at the diner when she said she watched my videos, oh, that's gonna keep me up for a long time.

who would've known that night would take a turn because i sure didn't. i thought it would go smoothly and that i would make it all the way to her home, surprise her. but no, it went horribly all because of that fucking dipshit jamie.

he's the one who ruined our romantic walk, he's the one who ruined my chances of getting her to fall for me. jamie ruined everything, and fuck, i just want to strangle him until his head pops. i just want to watch him as he gets ruined, as his life gets ruined in front of the entire world.

i don't even realize that i'm crushing a page of her magazine until i hear a crunch, and now suddenly, i'm back in my room as i stare at her beautiful, crushed face. panic spikes in my heart, and my free hand comes up in an effort to smoothen down the paper like it was before. no, this was a special magazine, it couldn't be ruined.

my breathing hitches, and i huff out as i just throw it back into the box. my hand reaches for the other one, and i place it gently atop of the crumpled paper before closing the box and setting it under my bed again.

i kick it further under the bed frame until i hear it hit the wall with a quiet thud, and then i let out a breath that i didn't know i'd been holding in. i'm letting my anger get a hold of me again, just like it almost did last night.

"deep breaths, chris. just breath." i tell myself, grabbing the sheets and running my thumbs along the fabric as i breath in through my nose and out through my mouth.

if i let anger get the best of me i'll ruin my plan for y/n, and then she'll never want to speak to me or even see me again.

"you're looking right at me."

pov = second person...

you smile at the boy across from you, giggling at the stupid knock knock joke he had just told you, "that wasn't even funny, it's just your laugh, jamie!"

he scoffs in faux offense, putting a hand to his chest as he takes a sip of his coffee. before speaking again, he swallows, "don't try to convince yourself that i'm not the funniest guy you've ever met."

you only roll your eyes at the blond, looking away from him to admire your surroundings. you and your producer came to this small coffee shop to talk about work and how you both needed to finish the last few songs on your upcoming album before the deadline, and now here you were, laughing at his jokes.

jamie felt like a brother to you, being there for all your highs and lows all throughout these past few years as you grew on the charts. he was always by your side, protecting you from crazy fans and even crazier haters. jamie also treated you like a member of his family, and he said that he'd protect you with his life.

the laughing dies down, and then you hear him sigh. your head turns to look at the boy again, and his eyes meet yours in an instant, "i hope you're being safe out there, y/n. seriously."

your face contorted into a look of happiness and maybe even guilt as you tilted your head, "i promise you i am."

"what about last night, then? you could've gotten kidnapped if it wasn't for me pointing out that creep. he was most definitely following you home, y/n!" he exclaimed, quiet enough that nobody else could hear but loud enough that only you could.

a look of worry was on his face, an expression that you hadn't seen that much of lately. he really was scared for you, especially in the last few months. you were growing in popularity fast, climbing up the charts every week or so.

at your silence, jamie exhaled, "sorry for snapping, you just... you keep me on my toes at all times, and sometimes i don't know what to say." he gives a smile full of sympathy before he takes another sip of his coffee.

you nod, eyes wandering again as you mutter, "it's okay." you knew all he wanted was the best for you, "i should've just gone to liv's apartment. the walk to my place was further than i thought."

your eyes darted all over the small plaza, looking around at all of the different people that walked by. one person in particular caught your eye, and you stared for just a little longer.

chris stared right back at you, hair covering his face along with his black fresh love hoodie. he found you again, and this time he wasn't gonna fuck up.

he saw the way your eyebrows furrowed even from the fountain across from the cafe, and he laughed at your concentrated look. you were trying to figure out who that was.

the brunette couldn't lie, he was a bit jealous of your producer. i mean, he was sitting right across from you and making you laugh. chris should be the guy who makes you laugh!

he'd been watching no less than 15 minutes as you both chatted, cheeks flushing at your perfect smile and beautiful, silky hair that fell over your shoulder just right.

maybe his obsession had grown after that night, but he wasn't some deranged stalker who tracked your every move. that would be insane, and chris would never put himself under that category. maybe.

chris cursed as jamie's head turned in the direction of chris, and the brunette just turned and quickly walked away. his brothers were probably wondering where he was, and the vlog would have to be scrapped if only 2 of them were in it.

jamie's eyebrows furrowed again, and he stood up and quickly grabbed your hand, "we're going, y/n. now."

as he dragged you out of the cafe, you couldn't help but think. who was that mystery guy? was he the guy from last night? why was he following you?

you had so many questions, and yet there were no answers to any of them. not quite yet, anyway. you were gonna have to wait for the right time, and chris had the whole thing planned out already. you'd just have to be patient.

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@ilove2021chris

[wiisagi-maiingan]

I love watching youtube videos about tiktok and influencer drama, mainly because I'm completely disconnected from stuff like that (I have never watched an influencer video in my life) so it gives me the thrill of true crime without the tragedy exploitation aspect, but sometimes I also feel completely disconnected from the youtubers too?

Like every youtuber has to offer up a million disclaimers about how they aren't judging influencers or whatever and that's usually fine but like. I do feel that there ARE points where people need to be judged for the content they're sharing and promoting and profiting off of!

"I'm not judging tradwives or saying their content is bad—" I am!! I am absolutely judging tradwives! Extremely harshly! Because the entire "tradwife" movement is conservative propaganda based on misogynistic and patriarchal ideas about history with no basis in reality or in our modern world! And tradwife influencers explicitly target young women and especially teen girls and try to convince them to put their entire lives in the hands of their husbands, which is a horrific recipe for domestic abuse!

These women making hundreds of thousands of dollars off tiktok videos (and often coming from extremely wealthy families) are out here telling young girls that they don't need an education, that they don't need their own income, that if they're just pretty enough and obedient enough then they'll find a rich husband and never have to worry about anything ever and it's fucking scary! And I don't know why we are tolerating it!

We know what happens when people, especially women, give up complete control to their partners. We know what that leads to, resentment and extreme control and total lack of options when things go from totally fine to constant arguing to violence. These influencers, who ARE making extremely significant personal incomes from their jobs as influencers online, lie through their fucking teeth about how perfect it is that their husbands do everything for them and all they have to do is take care of the kids and home (with the help of nannies and housekeepers and personal chefs off-screen. . .) and about how they've escaped from capitalism, meanwhile the people actually in those situations who AREN'T making all that extra cash are either already in abusive relationships or they're in incredibly precarious positions where they could end up abused or thrown out with nothing in an instant.

I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to be a homemaker or stay-at-home parent. I don't think it's wrong to not want to go to college or have a 9-5.

But you NEED options. You need full access to your own money that can't be monitored or controlled by a partner. You need access to a vehicle. You need a life outside of your home and family, especially friends who are willing and able to help you if needed. You need the ability to survive on your own in some way. Because if and when things go wrong in the relationship, THOSE are the things that will save your life.

Also remember that again, these tradwives DO have jobs and their jobs involve selling a fake lifestyle and fake ideals. They are getting paid BIG TIME for the shit they peddle to you, whether that's through the millions of views they get (both from genuine fans and from haters, the algorithm doesn't know or care about the difference) or the many sponsorships they get, they have incomes that they are not disclosing. They have help that they are not disclosing. Many of them started out with extreme wealth but lie through their teeth and cosplay as fucking homesteading peasants. It's all a lie to sell shit to you. Don't buy it.

Disclaimer: Please do not nitpick this post, it's very late and I'm ranting and if this leaves my circle of followers I will regret it deeply. Be nice. Tradwives dni, you're all annoying.

[olderthannetfic]

You know, there are a lot of words that need to be put up on the shelf out of peoples reach since no one wants to use them correctly, but I'm starting to feel like the word "fetishize" needs to be put on an extra high shelf inside of a locked box.

I always see discourse about people who "fetishize" gay/lesbian/fat/black/whatever characters (or ships involving them) and how they're nasty and disgusting and blah blah blah.

And I never know if these people are using the actual definition, or the terminally online dipshit definition.

Basically every website I look at about fetishization says it's "the act of making someone an object of sexual desire based on some aspect of their identity."

But people on Tumblr/twitter/tik-tok/etc. seem to think it means "If you like someone/something from a group that you're not a part of, you're a nasty fetishizer pervert freak".

So if you're a woman that ships two male characters, and even *gasp* enjoys porn of them? You're a nasty fetishizer.

They can't comprehend people enjoying a ship because of the characters involved, they think it must have something to do with their sexuality/gender/skin color/weight/etc.

It's so fucking annoying.

--

And, frankly, it's more than just being attracted to someone because they're fat or something. If you're not treating them like a blow-up doll that exists for your convenience, it's probably not fetishization.

Most people wouldn't find it that odd if a person said they were into redheads and therefore they found that redhead who just walked by really hot.

The fact that it's now a Problem™ if someone says that about a fat person tells me a lot about how they see fatness. It's not actually that weird to have an aesthetic preference for fatness. It's also not weird to find fatness neutral enough not to affect one's taste for redheads one way or the other.

Actual fetishization is reducing a person to only that aspect, not using that aspect to decide whom to chat up in a bar.

[sunnylands-world]

Red possession

Pairing: draco malfoy x female reader

Summary: your cycle is ending and that means you're feeling needy and distracted. Who better to fix it than your boyfriend…

Word count:1’889

Warning: fingering,mean draco [not really it's more degrading], choking, period sex [it's the last day], p in v, soft draco, possessive draco and reader, let me know if I missed anything

Universe: Harry Potter

A/n: "guess who's back, back again, Sunny's back tell a friend" 🎤 😂💓 no but seriously hopefully this one makes you guys love my writing again since people had requested something like this awhile ago 🙏🥺

You read the warnings if you continue to read. I'm not to be held responsible.

Comments, reblogs, and inboxes are appreciated and motivational

(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘)

Being a girl was something you hated...

There were probably countless reasons, such as childbirth, but the most annoying aspect of it was the constant bleeding. Every. Fucking. Month.

It was pretty much the end of your cycle now though, and Draco had been spoiling you rotten. You had enough chocolate right now to give away to a village of children and that's not an exaggeration, you had bars stacked in a fridge he also bought for this occasion. He even got a personal chef! When you were on your cycle, you had moments where food wasn't a thought. Then you'd eat a little, and soon you'd eat more, but even then, you felt like one more plate wouldn't hurt.

Draco had you in his room today. Draco is currently beside you, shirtless and wearing black boxers. He was reading a book to you, but every word he said was like whispers in a forest because you were distracted.

"Why does it seem like I want to devour him? Has he always been so attractive? Am I getting closer to him?"

"Are you alright [name]?" Draco announced.

"Yeah, yeah of course. Why wouldn't I be? " You laughed and Draco let out one as well but he sounded nervous.

"Because you're squeezing my arm like you're terrified, surely my reading isn't that bad," he said, looking at the grip you had on his arm.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just... well, I'm distracted," You muttered, letting go of his arm, feeling a little guilty for it.

“By what, darling?” He inquired, putting the book down and turning his focus on you.

"You," you whispered, and you could see him smirk.

"I'm sorry, what did you say? I didn't catch that,” he teased and you shook your head, you always knew your boyfriend was cocky.

"I said you're distracting me," you repeated, playfully. You looked into his blue eyes, which were like a storm above the ocean, and they were darkening.

His gaze was intense as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"Why is he looking at me like that?"

"I think I could fix that," he announces first before he gets up and heads to his bathroom, leaving you confused.

When he comes back with a towel, you realize what he has in mind.

"Wait, just let me use the bathroom first," you say quickly, heading into the bathroom. You pray quietly because you're just spotting. You open the bag you brought to Draco's, grab the wipes, and do your business before washing your hands. Draco's eyes meet yours once you open the door.

“Come here,” he states, and you walk over hesitantly.

Upon reaching him, his hands gently grip your waist and the pads of his thumbs rub circles on your back.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, as he stands over you.

Your cheeks turn crimson, and you say "Thank you."

He cradles your face, kisses you softly, and you become engulfed in him, kissing him back while your hands wander to his waist.

The desire for more causes your heart to race and you whimper against his lips.

"I've got it, baby," he assures you as his hand slides under your shirt, causing your breathing to slow, and you feel the familiar touch of the silver ring he wears. His hand slides up higher along your soft curves and you feel the sense of possession in his touch as he delicately squeezes you.

The kiss grows stronger, his tongue slips past your lips and yours moves with his in a passionate tango that makes you moan softly.

Your own hands find themselves on his back as you feel the familiar desire spreading like wildfire in your belly. You're unsure whether he's teasing you or taking his time, but you want more and you want it now.

“Please,” you beg and he chuckles.

"So needy," he says teasingly before pulling your shirt off.

“I fucking love it” he grunts looking at your breast with starvation and he pushes you back, not enough to injure you, but enough to catch you off guard and make you gasp falling on his mattress. Draco's gaze softens as the breeze from the room hits your skin.

Are you feeling cold, my love? He asks, tucking your hair back before stroking your cheek.

"Just a bit," you say, and he smiles.

“Under the covers” he states.

You do as asked, and he does the same, moving underneath them with you before he's back on your lips. Because you're so turned on because of hormones, you grind against his hips between your thighs and he's trapped by your legs around his waist.

He groans, his lips moving along your jaw only making it worse with his soft kisses on your heated skin. You moan softly, faced with a high.

You tug at his platinum hair and take into detail how soft it is. How his body is pressed against yours, brushing your nipples as he moves to kiss your neck. His tongue darts out and licks your skin, prompting you to tighten your grip on his hair.

“You're so responsive, so sexy” he whispers before he sucks and licks a bruise onto your neck. He grinds his hard length into your panties, brushing your clit and making you wetter. Your whimpers and moans like music to his ears that he could play on a loop.

He growls as he releases your neck and kisses your collarbone once before disappearing under the covers. He holds you down, branding your waist, with the pressure of his ring as he kisses and nips at your breast.

He whispers "fuck" as he sucks on your nipples. You writhe, eager for him, feeling his tongue flicker and his teeth nipping at your breast until he stops.

He lowers himself, resulting in the blanket following him as he pulls your panties off, tossing them to the side so he can look at you while his fingers glide through your slick folds before he slowly pushes them into your entry.

"So wet and warm," he groans, pumping his fingers in and out, watching you moan softly with a dark hunger gaze. You wither and buck your hips as he picks up the pace curling his fingers just right to hit the spot inside you to have you weak in the knees like you're never gonna walk again, and he doesn't stop, he just goes harder and deeper as you arch your back moaning loudly.

When he hears the wet noises from your pussy as it latches onto his digits, begging to release, he removes them and makes you whine, almost teary-eyed.

“Shut up,” he growls and you bite your lip.

He knows you so well...

He observes and shakes his head.

"God, I'm in love with you," He groans when he takes his boxers off, and your eyes glow with excitement as his cock, slaps against his abdomen, just as happy to see you.

Had you not been so desperate to have him inside you, you would have sucked it like there is no tomorrow.

"It's alright, baby. You'll be home soon."

Draco crawls back between your legs and rubs his tip repeatedly through your wet lips and you swear he whimpers before plunging into your velvety walls, making you moan softly as he seat's himself inside you.

He won't admit it, but he's just as needy for you. He couldn't tell you how many times he's been hard without relief because nothing satisfies him like his girl.

Fuckkk, that's good,” he moans, his head falling back as he shudders.

Your cheeks are heated as he leans forward, resting his hands on either side of your face.

Holding your gaze, he begins to gently and slowly thrust forward, causing your lips to part in a silent cry. Your breath practically stops as he glides so easily inside you, as though you were made just for him, fooling your senses and riddling you blank with every teasing thrust. As he leans forward, making you shiver, his warm breath ghosts over your skin.

“That's it darling, let me in,” he whispers, his accent clear as day.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you hear the creaking of the bed as he picks up the pace, making you moan a little louder and grip the sheets.

He's playing with your pussy, whispering the right things, and kissing the right spots to make you relax and become comfortable, all in order for him to go faster, harder, and deeper.

"Draco, please," you beg as your eyes start to roll.

He growls, "Look at me when you ask for something."

As you meet his eyes, you moan, "Harder."

He knows exactly what you want, so there's no need to ask twice.

As he smirks, he sits up, and those blue eyes lock on yours. He wraps his hand around your neck, pressing lightly, and slamming into you, while you choke on air and pathetically moan and mewl.

As the headboard hits the wall, whoever is on the other side is forced to listen to your pornographic sex while he thrusts into you like his pleasure is more important than your own.

He watches as your legs begin to shake and your body becomes possessed with pleasure. You know that leaving his room will cause you to feel embarrassed.

He allows you to breathe better by releasing your neck, as he fucks you without mercy, ruining you for anyone else.

“Mine,” he growls.

His eyes say it all, his forceful pace says it, you're his girl and this is his pussy.

His cock slams into your pussy faster than it can throb or pulse and you almost beg him to slow down, but this how you like it, hard and possessive. When you can feel your walls begging him to stay inside you as you try to clench and his thrust are so hard and deep you know he needs you too.

He pants, and groans, his own body nearly shaking.

"You feel so good," said in unison, in thought..

You'll always be his, even if you try to escape nobody will fuck you like this, so if you try to find someone else you'll be left unsatisfied.

As you near the edge, he kisses you, tongue and all making you moan softly as you tug his hair.

You can't tell who wants who more with the way you're both making out, and thrust so powerful that somehow your poor little cunt still weeps for more until you can't take it. He finds your hands interlacing your fingers grounding you.

“Be a good girl and cum for me” he whispers, and as you cum lost in bliss and overwhelming pleasure he follows, moaning that he loves you.

He collapses against you, breathing heavily and you wrap your weak legs around him, stroking his hair, affectionately because he's vulnerable like this.

He hums softly in response as you feel your sweaty, sticky skin against his and you inhale your passion in the air while you catch your breath.

“Still distracted?” he says, finally looking at you, you shake your head with a lazy smile.

“Wanna take a bath?” he asks softly

“If I can walk,” you say sarcastically and he chuckles.

You don't have to walk, because he'll carry you, you're his…

(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠) (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

©Sunnylands-world this belongs to me therefore you don't have the right to do anything with my work or ideas without permission.

Nice thought, reblogs, and inboxing is appreciated and motivational ❤

[allzelemonz]

Settle: Merle Dixon X Male Reader

Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘man’ and ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut, language Warnings: Slurs (homophobic), Merle Dixon is his own warning, mention of Merle’s SS symbol, typical southern prejudice/homophobia, neck kissing, anal fingering, anal sex, cockwarming, hand job, cuddling, top Merle and bottom Reader Summary: After striking out with every woman in camp, Merle turns to you and ignores the gay aspect of sleeping with another man in favor of getting laid. A/N: Imagine my lack of surprise but utter disappointment in finding no male reader shit for Merle. Written out of spite. Enjoy.

After a third pill and a third strikeout, Merle is almost certain he’ll have to handle himself tonight. No woman in the whole damn camp wants any action, even with a touch of good ol’ Southern charm Merle attempted. Not a bite from anyone. So Merle stumbled through the cluster of tents, only half as high as he’d like to be and blue balls stiff between his legs. Just as he’s about to turn a corner towards his tent on the outskirts with his brother’s, he catches a pretty sight.

Not that Merle is gay. Of course not. But the man is asleep with his tent partly unzipped, shirt off and back arched like a damn whore. How could Merle not stare just a little. His eyes trail over your back, bare and just fuzzied by the drugs in his system that he may mistake things enough to ignore the dick between your legs.

So he kicks your foot, waking you up.

Your hand goes to your knife first, then you turn to see it’s not something dead behind you. “What, Merle?”

“Ya a queer?”

You squint at him, off put by the way he says it. “Why’re you asking?”

He shrugs. “Fella can’t be curious.”

“Not with that Nazi symbol on your bike you can’t.” You close your hand around your knife. “Go away.”

Merle chuckles, raising his hand in mock surrender. “Woah, woah, there… I was just askin’.”

You stare at him for a moment. “Fine. Yeah, I like men. I’m a queer. Are we done here?”

Merle bites at the inside of his cheek, trying to come up with the right words. “Ya let me fuck ya?”

“What?” You ask, sitting up to look at him properly.

Merle scoffs. “Ya heard me. Would ya?”

“Why would you-“

“Ladies ‘round here bein’ stingy.” Merle shrugs. “Hole’s a hole.”

“You’re joking.” You say in disbelief.

“Ain’t like I never fucked an ass before. It’s the same shit.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s really not.”

“Aw, come on, I’ll be quick.” Merle attempts a pout. “Ain’t no trouble.”

You sigh, shaking your head because you know it’s a dumb idea somewhere deep down. “Fine.”

Merle grins. “Atta boy.”

“Get on with it then.” You sigh, watching Merle step inside. “Zipper.”

Merle turns and zips the tent closed behind him, fumbling with it for longer than any regular person would. When he turns his hands go straight to his belt.

You watch his fingers move for a second. “You ever fucked another man before.”

Merle snorts. “Course not. I ain’t a queer.”

“It’s a little different, you know.”

“What?” Merle sneers. “I gotta play with yer pecker er somethin’?”

You shake your head. “Not necessarily. But you have to stick your fingers in for a while and stretch things out.”

“Yer just picky.”

“Maybe. Just do it, asshole, or I’m not gonna let you fuck anything.”

Merle pulls his belt free. “Fine. Pants off then, sweetheart.”

You huff, annoyed at Merle already, but it’s been far too long since you’ve had this chance. You pull your pants off, ignoring Merle’s eyes on your legs and turn around to lay on your stomach.

“Alright.” Merle grins, shuffling up behind you and nudging your legs apart. “What am I doin’ here, sweetheart?”

You turn your head back, half wanting to see the sight. “Put your fingers in your mouth.”

“Why?”

“Spit’s the only lube we have.” You mutter. “Just do it.”

Merle glares slightly, but does as he’s told and presses three fingers past his lips. He sucks on them, his other hand already going to your hip. It’s clear he’s never been the type to do this with any of the women he’s been with either. Without prompting, he drops the hand down and traces until he finds your rim.

“Ya ready for Merle’s magic fingers, boy?”

“Shut up.”

Merle chuckles, circling his finger around before slowly pushing inside. “Whew…” Merle exclaims. “Tight little thing, ain’t ya?”

You open your mouth to speak but Merle’s finger drags against your prostate and all you can manage is a groan as you bury your face down into your pillow.

He leans over you, his hand moving up to grip at the bare skin of your chest. “I find somethin’ good?”

You nod, mindlessly pushing back into him. “Fuck, Merle…”

He repeats the drag, his fingers moving quickly to fuck whatever sounds he can get out of you. You don’t expect much more, but he leans down and presses his lips to your neck. He trails sloppy kisses over your skin, his fingers fully thrusting into you at a quick pace.

“You want me?” Merle murmurs next to your ear. “Want Merle to fuck ya better than some fairy ever could, don’t ya?”

“Yeah…” You answer, spreading your legs as much as you can. “Why you’re here, isn’t it?”

Merle grins against your skin. “You just be a good boy. You’re good at that.”

He sits back up, removing his fingers and positioning himself properly behind you. His hands fix on your waist, pulling you back and propping you up on your widespread knees. You feel his tip press against you for just a second before he presses inside. There certainly isn’t enough lubrication or preparation, so the stretch of being entered hurts just enough to make a few whines form in your throat. Merle pushes all the same, stretching you open and filling you up with everything he has.

He groans as he bottoms out, running a hand over your spine. “You feel so damn good, sweetheart.” He squeezes your hip slightly. “Might turn me gay…”

Before you can think much about that, Merle begins to piston his hips at a quick pace. Both of his hands grip tightly at your hips and the force of his thrusts presses you forward into your pillow, only held up at the waist for Merle to fuck into you properly. You let him, relaxing into the hold and letting him use you because the slide of his dick hitting your prostate feels better than anything else. Merle pushes you down to lay flat, leaning over you and rocking into you as his head dips against your shoulder. The sleeping bag below you rubs at your dick with every thrust Merle gives you.

“Knew I liked you.” Merle mutters, half to himself. “Better than any damn woman… shit, sweetheart.”

Merle’s hips stutter and he groans as he releases, burying himself as deep as he can into you. You take heavy breaths as Merle relaxes on top of you, trying to ignore the squirming feeling of not having finished. Then Merle’s hand snakes under you, pumping furiously fast and gripping hard until you mutter his name and your vision blurs for a moment as you spurt cum onto your sleeping bag.

His hand slows to a massaging tempo and you can hear him inhaling strongly. “Ya gotta let me do that again sometime, boy.” He murmurs. “God, yer making me inta a queer.”

“Happy to help.” You mutter, still catching your breath.

Merle chuckles, letting both arms encircle you as he fully lets himself relax on top of you. “So ya liked my dick in ya?”

You bury your head into your pillow, avoiding his annoying question.

Merle chuckles. “Lemme sleep here?”

“Whatever.”

“Can I fuck ya in the mornin’?”

“If you want.”

He grins, settling his lips right next to your ear. “Ya gonna help keep little Merle warm all night too?”

You groan as he pushes against you, his soft dick still filling you and linking the both of you together. “Just sleep, jackass.”

He chuckles again. “Whatever you say, queer.”

[eon-become-instant]

It's honestly annoying, all the ppl trying to write full length analyses on the RWRB movie as if it were some high calibre queer drama instead of a fucking light hearted romcom.

"It's unrealistic! It's cheesy! It looks low budget! It wasn't raunchy enough!" ohmygod please just stop.

I saw a post earlier from someone saying it was too 'sanitised' and that queer people don't want movies like this that are just like the millions of straight romcoms out there, but to me, that's such a braindead take because? Isn't this what we've wanted since forever? A level of equality in the film industry where we can have the same variety of movies centred around queer romance as those centred around straight relationships?

As a bi girlie, I want them all. The serious movies, the silly movies, the dramatic heart wrenching ones, and the ones that are so sweet and fluffy I end up with a toothache. I just want more of ALL of them!

If romcoms aren't for you, that's FINE. You do not NEED to like this film. But you can say that without disparaging it to the point where you come off sounding like some wanna-be high-brow film critic asshole who thinks movies like this aren't worth being made because they fucking ARE worth it. Some of us WANT something sappy and sweet every once in a while! Don't you fucking dare try to speak for the entire queer community by telling those large production companies that nobody wants movies like this because that is just plain untrue!

Now to be clear, I'm not talking about the people who aren't happy with the movie as an adaptation - however you feel about that, you're valid cause I know this book meant a hell of a lot to many people, and it sucks that so much of it had to be stripped away. Personally that aspect of it didn't bother me much cause I went into it knowing 2 hours was never gonna be enough to include all of those side characters.

Anyway, that's my rant. Let people enjoy the fluffy warm and cuddly comfort movie please and thank you ❤️

[peachie-bumblebee]

MIGUEL O’HARA NSFW ALPHABET

MINORS DNI

HELLOOOO

CW: GENERAL ADULT CONTENT. MENTIONS OF BDSM AND PAIN, UNDERWEAR THIEF

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex):

It really depends on whether or not you’re in a relationship. If he’s in love with you, then he’s gonna scoop you up and clean you off- maybe even take a bath with you if he’s letting himself be intimate like he used to be. He’ll praise you softly as you go to sleep, sure to forget his words by morning. If he’s not in love with you, then it’s less charming. Miguel WILL leave.

B = Body part (favorite of partners, favorite of theirs):

The curve of their neck and throat. He can’t help himself. Hipbones. He isn’t that egotistical when it comes to his own looks, but he knows his back looks good. Don’t press him on his ass though. He knows he has a great ass, but you’ll never hear him say that.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically):

Like i’ve said- he gets embarrassingly leaky if he’s being dominated. He’ll even cum untouched if you really try.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

…Panty thief if he’s in love. He’ll tuck your underwear away after he tugs them down and touches himself with them pressed against his face. Literally if anyone ever brought it up he’d disintegrate on the spot and possibly start chasing them on all fours. (He’s a little touchy, if you haven’t noticed.)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?):

He had a kid. And if you’re gonna say “oh, that was another universe-” you can, but you cannot convince me that there is a universe where Miguel doesn’t fuck. He fucks. He knows just where to put his hands during doggy.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying):

He likes to have a grip on those hipbones, if he can. He’s gonna physically overpower 99% of people, so it’s gonna involve folding his partner in half and manhandling them most every time. He also loves to be on his knees with his hands behind his back, but that might be a little harder.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.):

He’s not a joker. Maybe, MAYBE, if he was married, he might make a small joke every once in a while. But I cannot picture him having silly sex.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.):

He’s naked under that suit, and I can’t imagine that would feel great on his body if there was too much hair. I’m not fully sure how any spider-person gets their hair on under the mask, but I DO know that he has the prettiest happy trail known to man. It’s not too much- still almost downy soft.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect):

Like stated before, it can go both ways. I can’t see him doing a lot of soft kisses unless there was MAJOR long term feelings. Most romantic he gets most of the time is telling his partner how good they are or begging for then.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

Eyes roll back into his head and he has his hand clamped over his mouth, sometimes biting on his rolled up shirt.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks):

Bondage, switching, candle wax, temperature play, blindfolding, manhandling, biting.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do):

If his partner was a spider person I can see them fucking in some corner on a rooftop, his hips pistoling up into them as they grab forward on the wall.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):

Lace, being teased, getting too annoyed at work- LMFAO. teasing and being teased riles him up big time.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):

He’s not gonna use a flogger or a paddle on someone. I can’t see it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

He has a BIG oral fixation (i’m biased) and loves anything going into his mouth. He also is particularly sensitive to having his balls sucked on.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):

It’s rough nearly always. Your organs are thoroughly rearranged.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):

Miguel is a BIG office quickie guy IF nothing is going on- but so so much of the time, something is always going on. Some of the time all he can squeeze in is a good over-the-desk 15 minutes before he’s back to managing all of the multiverse. The last thing he needs is Lyla popping up where she doesn’t belong.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):

Things that are risky to normal people aren’t as risky to him. He can hear if people are coming from a long while away. He’s faced constant danger. Fucking you in an unused room on an unused floor of the spider society is not a risk to him.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?):

Do I even need to say it? He can go for hours. He’s enhanced. However, he does last longer if he’s the one in charge; either way, he can go for a long while. His partner is gonna be sore and incoherent much faster than he’d be, regardless whether or not they’re super or not.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):

Someone got him a flashlight once and told him it’d help him with the stick up his ass. He’s used it a couple times and pretends like he hasn’t. He wouldn’t own a dildo but isn’t opposed to getting pegged. If his partner wanted a sex toy used on them, he’d take a lot of joy in torturing them with it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

He’s an AWFUL tease. It’s constant. He also cannot bear being teased and will either beg or fuck his partner over the nearest table within a few comments.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):

PRETTY MOANS!! It’s a damn shame he rarely ever lets you hear them. He’ll also curse, praise, and demean under his breath. He tries so hardly to stop from moaning when he cums; muffling himself with whatever he can. Usually a few clear ones slip through.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character):

Cries if you edge him. He gets pathetic.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):

YALL ALREADY KNOW!! DORITO BACK!!! HUGE CHEEKS!!! He’s downright tasty i’m sorry y’all. I’d pray over him and spread him out like he’s christmas dinner.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):

HE’S HORNY! He just can’t deal with it a lot of the time, which often makes him even more pent up. Lord have mercy on his partner’s body.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):

Depends if he has time or not. If not, he’ll keep on pushing on. On the rare occasion where he’s free of responsibilities, he’s snoring like drake within 20 minutes or less <33

hope you guys enjoyed!! inbox is always open, requests always wanted :)))

[firstkanaphans]

I know this post is only for like two people, but I’m going to make it anyway. So, my obsession with Dead Friend Forever finally reached critical levels and I resorted to binge-watching The Hidden Character just to get more content. For those that don’t know, The Hidden Character (which they literally call “THC”) was the reality show Be On Cloud used to cast DFF. It is bad. Like really bad. And not in a it’s-so-bad-it’s-good-type way. It’s one of the most exploitative pieces of media I have ever watched. I walked into it with a favorable view of BOC, Mile, Apo, and Pond (the CEO), and walked out of it hating all of them.

A small collection of things that happened over the 11-episode run:

Everyone was told that they had to share every single aspect of their life with the viewers or they would be eliminated. And, in fact, the first person eliminated was told that it was because he wasn’t being open enough with the audience. They filmed these boys—one of whom was only seventeen at the time—talking explicitly about their sex lives. Which is, of course, fine to talk about. It’s not fine to air it on television! Even some of the games themselves contained sexually suggestive content (i.e. Which do you prefer "eating" with—your hands or your mouth? If you were to cheat on your significant other, would it be just sex or a full-blown affair?)

During the first part of the show, everyone had a secret that the other players were supposed to guess. One of the player’s secret was that he used to be homophobic. (Questionable casting for a company that only hires men, but I digress). He was praised for having changed his mind. In contrast, JJay’s secret was that he was raised in an abusive household and had once hit his father. Pond crucified the poor guy for this. He made him sit there in front of the whole cast sobbing and apologize for hitting his dad who was an abusive asshole.

After the first half of the show—which served absolutely no purpose at all—we finally move onto the acting portion. This is, after all, supposed to be a talent competition. The judges were so mean. Especially Apo. He was like the Simon Cowell of BOC. There was no constructive component to their criticism. The fact that any of these people are still acting is honestly unbelievable. I would have gone home and cried myself to sleep and then never stepped foot on a stage again.

At one point, each of the groups was assigned a scene from KinnPorsche to act out (because BOC very clearly owns no other IP). One of the pairs was given the scene where Porsche gives Kinn a handjob in the bathroom. I wish I was kidding. 

The judges constantly told the contestants to make their scenes feel new and different but any time the actors actually tried to change anything, they complained it was “too” different and the original script was already perfect so who were they to think they could create something better. Once again, Apo and Mile, the original actors of these scenes, are the ones judging them! Like of course they like their version better. What is even happening??

And finally, the whole fucking thing was rigged for Ta to win. Like don’t get me wrong, I love Ta and I think he did a great job, but he was the only one who came into that competition with a built-in fanbase and the winner was chosen by popular vote.

It was all just…baffling. Especially from a company that claims to be trying to change the industry. Like if you want the industry to stop being so exploitative to its actors, maybe start with yourself? It also makes those condescending “how dare you watch our shows just for the NC scenes” press releases they do every week even more annoying.

I have no clue what the reaction to this show was while it was airing but god I hope they never do it again. It literally makes me feel so weird watching DFF now. I feel like those poor kids are being held hostage. Maybe CEO Pond’s been the one under the mask the whole time 🔪

[ferg0s]

how writing about your favorite Blue Lock boy who can't deny how good his s/o looks in the Blue Lock spandex suit?

BAROU BAROU BAROU 🗣️🦅‼️ not so much s/o but trust me I have a vision…

I haven’t seen PNGlock season 2 😞 so mb for some inconsistencies

If you asked Ego which he liked better, woman’s soccer or men’s soccer, he would say which ever could win a gold medal. He was like a goblin, craving for the shiny smooth surface of a gold medal to glide across his fingers - and he would do whatever it would take to get it. When he had proposed the idea onto the board, they had laughed it off. But he didn’t understand why? Having a woman’s team meant that they had double the chance. More versatility. He didnt want to put his eggs in one basket. Besides he wanted Japan to be the best in the world - in every aspect of the sport.

Pink lock. That’s what the boys at Bluelock started to call the sister program. Even though it was literally just named blue lock. Thats until the practice match. Pink lock was started to look like pain lock the way they were making the boys run across the field. What the boys didn’t know was that the they had to fight harder, the threat of underperforming and having the whole program shut down was looming over them. An extra stress to add to the stress they already had of being kicked out. Their performances not only reflected them but everyone. Misogyny is the name of the blade that mercilessly cuts off the wings of angels.

Though there was one person that seemed to get on Barous nerve. Some girl who kept popping out of no where to block his shots, steal the ball and all in all make it impossible for him to have more then 3 seconds with the ball. He didn’t know her name, just the crazed look in her eyes as she would run past him. Number 67. Fuck her, he thought.

~

You didn’t know how tired you were until you got back to the dorms they had set up for you. The showers had a long line, and it seemed like everyone was taking Atleast a minimum of 30 minutes. The facility hadn’t given you the spandex suits they had given to the boys - the board said they didn’t have the Budget for it. Que another wingless angel. And it seemed like you wouldn’t get them for a while.

The practice test was more a presentation by ego to show the board to her more funding, which it had. After ego threatened to close the men program, the board rolled over and gave into his demands. But the official uniforms would have to wait. It took a while to make them with the same physicality monitoring sensors. Until then, you were stuck wearing frumpy soccer gear. The knee long shorts and over sized shirts. What you had assumed were the initial clothes for the men.

You seemed to pick up on the man who has been eyeing you with nothing but hatred pretty quickly. Having being divided into duos , of course you got stuck with him. It was temporary, ego said, to grow both players abilities, he said. While the other duos flirted and exchanged numbers, you and Barou did nothing but fight. The self proclaimed king didn’t like someone telling him what to do. Especially someone as annoying as you.

“-are you allergic to passing the fucking ball?” You ask as you walk up to him. “Not my fault you can’t keep up-“ he replied back. The other boys started to assume he didn’t swing that way based on how much the two of you fought, Barou seeming to resent the idea of even being on the same planet at you. But in reality, it was just two hard strong stubborn people clashing. Two unstoppable forces trying to merge into one, while also actively trying to avoid it.

You use the helm of your shirt to wipe the sweat off your forehead. It has been 20 minutes and you hadn’t even scored once against the hologram goalie. You look over at your partner, who was equally as tired as you. Both of you had been fighting for the ball rather than trying to figure out how to get past the goalie and score. You needed a minimum of 10 to leave and have dinner. And you were starving, and stuck at 0.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He asked, walking up to you. “The strategy is simple, hand me the ball and-“ “go fuck yourself princess-“ you spat back.

Barou didn’t need to come and taunt you after every missed goal. He didn’t need to walk up to you every time and stand way to close to when he was having another verbal altercation with you. But he couldnt help it. He liked the colour of your eyes :)

Yes. Barou had a crush.

On you.

Barou grew up with sisters so it wasn’t like he hasn’t been around women, but he still acted like it. His way of flirting with teasing and insulting, like an elementary school kid. As much as he bragged about being a womanizing bastard to the other guys in the locker room, he would rather eat cement than talk to a pretty girl alone. Which is why he figured insulting was a good alternative.

Even in the frumpy uniform, hair a mess and sweat covering your face, Barou saw you as someone akin to a model. You had a sort of fire in your eyes that drew him in, like a moth to a flame. Ego had made the duos based on compatible personalities, and you were just as stubborn, goal oriented and hot headed as him. If you had stuck around for longer instead of walking away in a huff to drink some water, you would notice how he seemed to zone out when you were yelling at him.

Out of everyone, you and Barou had the worst score. Leaving you one of the teams near the bottom.

It seemed to get worse when the spandex uniforms came. Landing the two of you at the bottom. He spent more time staring at you more than he did the ball. It should be a sin to look so good, he thought. His eyes would linger longer as you bent over to pick up the water bottle, drinking up the sight of you laying on the ground having from exhaustion. Or in the training room doing squats. It was entirely his fault that you two were at the bottom, which meant more verbal abuse from you. He tried his best to look into your eyes, wondering what specific colour they were on the colour wheel, hoping his years of discipline would stop his eyes from going down further.

It wasn’t until one day when you finally managed to score a point, in under 20 minutes with him, that you finally had a positive attitude towards him. In the midst of your joy, near tears for finally being able to cooperate enough to score 1 goal, you hugged him.

Shortly after that you somehow skyrocket to top 3. You didn’t know why he had Suddenly done a 180.

But Barou thanks who ever decided to put you in that stupid spandex uniform.

__________

kinda burnt out in the end 😞 Mbmb. Bit off more than I could chew