#the links I’ll have to change . the mutual tags I’ll have to change ..

[soullessjack]

I wanna change my url but it’s so much work .. .

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 5 | stanley pines x f!reader 

summary: the second year of your life “married” to stanley pines, particularly concerning traditions 

warnings (TW): swearing, gambling, illegal activities, illusions of past abuse 

tags: fluff, affection, mutual-pining

notes: canonically no one knows anything about shermie really, which would be hilarious if I didn’t have to write about it \\ also i feel like there not too much fluff in this (could be really fucking wrong lol) but the next part i have drafted is sickingly sweet so just give me some time 

Also (again) i’ll begin linking a legit masterlist below with all the parts! I thought of renaming each era but the naming part of things is where im legit the leassst creative for some reason? maybe later idk? but anyway! so much love from everyone! thank you so much! you don’t know how much i appreciate the love and the comments, thats why i continue writing this ahhhhhhh! thank you!!!

word count: 4.4k 

| masterlist | part vi |

March, 1984 

It had taken her several months to come to terms with what had to be done for the sake of their identities. 

He had been more open with her concerning his past in that one two-hour conversation than he had in the past year in its entirety. Something that would shake a normal woman, but she had become so oddly attached to her new partner she almost didn’t care about the picture he painted of what he used to be - something he insisted he still was. Bad. He had said to her that night. That he wasn’t any good. 

The painting only flooded with more color, in those following months after said heart-to-heart. His conversation with his mother spoke of it. It also spoke of a man who truly honestly couldn’t be the picture he had painted. 

It’s something they had both tiptoed around, conversations of their parentage. Of course, because of Ford, she knew that they grew up in the typical American nuclear family home, with a mother who lingered in doorways and a father who raised his hands as frequently as his voice. But she didn’t know how intertwined Stanley had been with his mother in particular. 

Which was hard, considering he was now legally dead. 

That first frantic conversation they had had over the phone had shaken him, had him reconsidering. But watching Doc’ wait in anticipation and disbelief in the next room over quickly made him change his mind. It was so they would be safe, he reasoned. 

His mother had called believing she was calling Ford after she received the shattering news that her baby boy was presumed to be dead. Baby being used here loosely, seeing as Ford was only truly older by a mere fifteen minutes. 

His mother hadn’t been shocked Ford hadn’t contacted her in that past year, something he had shook off every time he passed the landline. He thought to call her. But she was quite hung up on not having heard from Stanley that past year, insisting in her ways that surely he would have called, her free-spirited boy was always much more inclined to call her, something she had never blamed Stanford for of course. Just a flippant difference between her two boys. One called and the other lingered in doorways, like her. 

Stanley had reasoned with her over the landline. Insisting that he, unfortunately, would not be able to make it to his own brother's funeral, something she had tisked at, raising her voice to who she assumed was Stanford. This is your brother! She had insisted. You loved your brother, don’t say you didn’t. Everyone makes mistakes, you need to forgive him now. 

It was not until after the event that she called again, telling him not to worry. That she had attended for him, but that his father was just as busy as him. Something unspoken between them, just as stubborn. She had meant to say. Just as ignorant. 

His mother spoke with him in a different tone over the phone, a difference in how she held cadence when she was talking to Stanford rather than Stanley, something he wondered if Poindexter ever noticed. 

His Doc’ knew the conversations drained an odd part of him, so she did her best to work around him when his mother did ring their landline. Something she did semi-frequently now that Stanley was officially dead. 

In the beginning, she had lingered in the next room, then drifted through doorways, and eventually made it until she sat at the kitchen table with him, playing with his fingers in hopes of baiting him away from the phone. If the conversation was shorter then surely he wouldn’t have to pretend to be someone he wasn’t for too long. 

She later realized this was a mistake, no matter how his impression of his brother gnawed at an odd part of her psyche. So she moved from him, doing dishes and cooking. But still oddly near him. 

It was easier to lean into domesticity when she played it so well around him, and it made the phone calls less nerve-wracking to take. Pretending his wife was doting on him, that his long-distance mother was calling to check in, and pretending he wasn’t a fraud and a failure. So he usually insisted on her presence. And he pretended that she played a role in it all and that his mother didn’t sound different over the phone. One big lie to make him breathe better. 

It’s after one of these phone calls that he slumps deep in his kitchen seat one day, and she turns from the dishes in the sink to ask what’s wrong. 

“We’re gonna have to tell her one day.” 

“What?” 

“That we’re married, doll.” He crossed his arms, a contemplative look overtaking him. The first time he’d said the word since that conversation in the car. “I don’t know how long until we have ta’, but I know we gotta.” 

“Okay.” She hums, hands still sudsy from the sink. “Is there any other family we may have to tell?” 

“My older brother, Shermie. But he’s in Cali not Jersey like my ma.” He hums. “Older than me, don’t know him as well. But he is closer.” 

“And will he be able to tell?” She asks. “That you’re not Stanford?” 

“Nah.” He sighs. “He’s got a wife though, and a kid from what I remember. A baby girl, probably about ten now.” 

“Oh my god, so you’re an uncle?” She laughs, a smile splitting her face once more. 

“Ya doll, have been since I was 18. Remember meeting her, but pretty soon after I hit the road.” 

He had been fond of her, from what he could remember. The baby girl had rarely left the crook of his doting mother’s arms, but when it came to be his turn to hold her he enjoyed the warmth and weight of her. And her gummy smile at his continued insistence. He still remembers her tiny hands, fisted around one of his fingers. She had been small, smaller than he had imagined babies could be. He bet she was still small, it felt hard to imagine her as more than a swaddle in the swell of his arms now. 

Silence breaks between them again. “Well for what it’s worth I think you’d be a great uncle, if you could have been closer to her that is.” She hums, moving back to the sink to wash some more dishes. Her hair curved around her soft face, beautiful in her usual careless way.

Maybe he would have been. 

June, 1984

They had started a tradition in their home. A young tradition, but she figured it still was one since they had promised to go about their day the same way as they had the previous year. Except this time they had thought to prepare. 

The town they resided in was odd for sure and had an affinity for the unexplained and perhaps more creepy pursuits. The town had a tradition of its own in which they held a Halloween event twice a year, Summerween they called it. 

Not that they had known of it their first year residing in the shack, but it was quite the surprise to open the door to trick-or-treaters in mid-June. The children had unknowingly interrupted Stan's attempt to teach her how to play poker. Unfortunately for the children, they didn’t have any candy on hand for them that year. Without anything to give them, the kids retaliated by tee-peeing their yard that same night. 

She had found it only slightly annoying, having to clean it up the next morning. But it quickly fell into amusement, watching Stan stomp and curse while pulling toilet paper from bushes and trees. He didn’t enjoy a prank that was not his own. And he wouldn’t be caught unaware the next year. 

Which was why they had wandered around town that last week, looking for supplies to decorate their porch and getting last-minute off-brand candy. She had scoffed at the shitty candy they had bought but figured it was more or less all they could afford. She had eyed up the bigger bags of nicer candy, chocolate had always been a weakness of hers. 

Stan had also bought what he called “Scary Stan” supplies. Silly string, odd meats, and fake blood found its way into their shopping cart. Along with supplies for caramel apples upon her insistence. 

They had made a night of it, decorating their porch with fake spider webs and the town's traditional carved watermelon jack-o-lanterns. She had gone ahead in making caramel apples also, bagging them up as she went for the children. Perhaps it would make up for the shitty candy. 

In keeping with tradition, Stan thought to continue their poker night as they had been doing the previous Summerween. So their night was spent in an identical fashion almost, with detailed explanations of correct poker etiquette from Stan with interrupted rushing to and from the door to give awaiting kids off-brand chocolate and homemade caramel apples. Except they sat across from each other in costume now. She had been amused when he had insisted on them being matching, he had flushed in embarrassment in the store that week, pleading his case after his initial insistence. Like it was only natural that they would match. She barely fought it, something odd aching in her chest at his rather sweet insistence.

“Come on! It’s a good idea!” 

“What are we Stan, twelve?” 

“No, we're married. Just as embarrassing.” He had said flippantly, his ears red in a flush as he shoved two capes into the shopping cart along with everything else. 

Which is how they ended up here tonight, sitting across from each other in the dim kitchen light, both dressed as a gaudy vampire couple while Stan explained for the fourth time the probability of getting a royal flush. Her feet propped up on his lap, like always. He had bent down to grab them, folding them into the curve of him. 

He had tried not to stare too long when she came down the stairs earlier, her matching velvet red cape and shitty plastic vampire teeth sat oddly in her mouth. But it was one of the first times she had done her makeup like that, all dark and creased around her enchanting eyes. And the first time he had ever seen that black shirt, which had a surprisingly low cut. All the more distracting. 

This is why he was stumbling through explaining what a royal flush was for the fourth time, and probably why she was looking all confused at him like that also. 

“Okay doll, let’s run through this a couple of times, then we’ll put in some real steaks here.” 

“Stan we are dead broke we are not gambling money tonight. You’d rob me blind!” 

“Shush!” He insisted, smiling across from her. “Just a couple rounds, I’ll show you some good hands and we’ll go from there, okay?” 

They were interrupted interspersedly from time to time during their practice rounds, Stan usually being the one to race out to the porch first, in hopes of scaring whatever little kid dared knock on their porch door. 

Of course, if the child was too young he’d call for her. She had put up a fight with him about scaring kids that were younger than ten tonight. Which he had been glum about until he watched her with them. 

She’d gush at the doorway, complimenting costumes and handing out her caramel apples she had slaved away over. She had this certain smile too, and silently in the back of his mind he thanked any little kid who knocked on their door that night because she looked particularly enchanting when she was kneeling down talking to them. Like she was always meant to be doing that. 

Anyone over ten was free for the taking though, and he took particular pride in scaring any poor sap who was old enough in her eyes. The fake blood in particular came in handy, and she would laugh when he’d routinely come back from the porch door slathered in it. She silently thanked those kids tonight, because he seemed to be particularly enchanting when he laughed like that. Like he was always meant to be this carefree. 

The poker games practice rounds were over though. And he had a particular surprise just for her. 

“Ta-Da!” He said, while pulling out a bag of candy from the very top cabinet she could never reach in the kitchen. 

“Oh my god, is that chocolate!” She gasped again, reaching for the bag. “Name-brand chocolate! Awe, you shouldn’t have Stan.” She encased it in her arms, hugging it like a stuffy. It was the bag she had been eyeing up in the grocery store not even a week ago.

“Ah-ah!” He moved to grab the bag back. “This is what we are betting with tonight, doll.” Candy back in his hands, he moved back to his seat. Opening the bag to evenly disperse the individually wrapped candy between the two of them. 

“How’d you even get that bag, Stan, we can barely afford everything else we bought.” 

“You don’t wanna know, hun.” He said, shuffling her candy pile in front of her. Okay, so he had stolen it, so what? He hadn’t called her “hun” in a while though. Distracting. 

He almost never called her that sickeningly sweet name now, something she thought about far too often for her good. She missed that term of endearment in particular for some reason. But perhaps Stan found it to be too domestic, too personal for what both resided between them now. Perhaps it reminded him of her mistake, of her tying herself to him for the foreseeable future. Her heart did something odd though, when he would call her that. She usually made note of it when he did call her “hun” now. Because it was so rare to hear it, and she hesitated to ask why. It would slip out of him in odd moments, moments he would catch himself unaware and relaxed around her. But it always made him flush now, too. 

The game followed similarly, his flushing smirk distracting her from her hand on more than one occasion. He was so charmingly confident when he was playing games, so competitive. She tried to shake it off, the way he looked like this. She wanted to play with him, too. 

“You’re full of shit doll.” 

“No!” She gasps, suddenly a good actress. “My hand is just that good bucko! I raised it by too cluster bars, are you gonna meet or fold sir?” She hummed, smiling at him over her hand of cards. 

This was probably the only time she was damn good at lying, he conceded. She liked to play it up, waving her hands and laughing everything off. She was pretty good at playing off a hand that had absolutely nothing in it. But he had memorized her tell long ago, memorized her face just the same. She looked the same every night, teasing him across this kitchen table over dinner. Her brow upturned just a little, her cheeks flushed. That was the look, her look. She had nothing in her hand. 

But he was wiping the floor with her. 

He hums, hand over his lips. “I guess I fold then.” He sets his cards down, pushing his stack of candy back towards her.  

“Yes!” She jumps up, reaching across to swipe his candy into her pile. An elated smile on her face as she dances in her seat. The kitchen light making shadows on her face, the sun having finally gone down to alleviate some of the June heat. She stops mid-dance, a realization blooming over her face. “Wait a minute.” 

“Hmmmm?” He says, munching on one of his candies. 

“I know for a fact you can count cards, Stan!” Her finger pointed accusingly at her. “That’s why they won’t let you back in Nashville. You should legitimately win every round, and I know that for a fact!” 

He leans back in his kitchen chair, laughing in his low gravelly voice. “Perhaps?” He questions, hands held up in guilt. 

“Gahh!” She yells, reaching across the table and the stacks of candy to throw a fist at his shoulder. “I’ll get you for real one day.” 

“You’re smart hun, I know you will.” That flush across his face. 

“You’re smart too though.” She says, stating what she knows to be true. He is smart, he proves it to her every day. He just would never actually take the compliment, something he figured was a lie. He’d never been called smart in his life before her. He’d let her lie about this one thing though. His head hung off the back of his chair. His Doc’ was a terrible liar, though. 

“Nah!” He says flippantly, hand waving away her truth. “Let’s watch a movie!” Jumping from his seat, scooping up her pile and his pile of chocolates, and racing to the T.V. They’d play again the next year, and he’d let her win again in hopes it would make her just as happy as she just was. And maybe then she’d believed she’d won and he’d believe he was smart enough to be out-witted by the likes of her. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” She inquires, head popping back into the living room. 

“No no, come here!” Waving her in, so she can plop down next to him on the floor. Candy piled high in between the both of them. A mischievous grin sneaks up on his face, hand already reaching for the movie she’d hate. She was terrified of zombies, for some reason. Something he takes advantage of routinely. Anything to have her curled up next to him, her heat seeping into his side as his hand made a home on the back of her neck. Like usual, like always. Something that still made him feel sickly sweet, her flippant affection for him. It must be nothing for her, to be this close to him.

“Scary movie?” 

She nods, mouth full of chocolate and shirt dangerously low. Her cape piled around her, and her eyes dark as she grins at him. Distracting. 

October, 1984

They had hit a metaphorical dead end when it came to the portal. Something they both feared voicing between the two of them. 

It was hard, almost impossible, to reverse engineer the plans drawn out in the one journal they had on hand. She knew there had to be two more out there, hidden in the woods. A homage to the three corners of the portal that she stared at day in and out. Stanford was like that in a way, flippantly sentimental about the oddest thing. 

Her old friend more than likely buried the other two journals somewhere on the property. Unfortunately for them both they did not know where the property line began and ended, but she more or less figured it was a lot of land to cover. Stan had backed up this claim, explaining to her that first night that Stanford had wanted him to take this first journal, take it with him to the ends of the earth. In hopes that the portal his brother had created couldn’t be replicated. Something they had both dared to do now and something they did not discuss in great lengths either. 

He had put them away in his haste, she figured. He was never one to half-ass anything really, but with the way Stan had described his brother that night he disappeared into the portal, she figured he was not necessarily himself. Not himself, actually at all. She had contemplated it a lot, the fear of otherworldly possession. But had a hard time believing Stanford would let anything into something as sacred as he believed his mind to be. He didn’t even let her up there. 

But the way he described his odd relationship with an entity that happened to be a shape was… distracting. It constantly had her flipping back and forth in the journal, looking for clues as to what Ford was doing in relation to an otherworldly being. He couldn’t help his own curiosity she figured, something she had never blamed him for except for now. Something she cursed him for, now. 

So they had both agreed to move in silence when it came to passing into the tree line of the property. She had more than hinted at their need for caution in communicating with whatever the hell Ford had previously encountered. Stan and Ford both considered themselves adventurers in their own right, which would be admirable if one of them wasn't missing from their current plane of existence. 

They had headed out together one October day, bundled up, and hoping to find signs of Ford on their property line. Hoping to find one of the journals, and nothing else. 

His red coat with a new patch was swung over his shoulders, as she had whined in the doorway that morning. She much preferred his things to her own nowadays. Much preferred to be swallowed by his shirts and jackets, not that he would ever comment. There was just more warmth to his things than her own now, and she preferred the imprint he left on the couch to her own in these colder months. Stealing his spot when he would up and leave for a new drink, laughing when he would come back to claim it. Stealing that imprint of him was her only joy, because it made him laugh and flush differently when she got close now. The closest he had allowed in months, the imprints and loose shirts he’d leave behind. Made something behind her chest ache thinking about it.

Felt slightly disjointed in their trek through the forest now, the thought of the unknown just beyond them both. And no warmth of his jacket to cool the part of her that achingly worried for him now.

But of course, they both had weighed the probability of them encountering some creatures that Ford had sighted in his journal, but she feared encountering something that was not listed in the specific one they had in their possession. Something out in the borders of their home, that they had no knowledge of. 

He was swearing with every step through the underbrush ahead of her, his hand held behind him in case she would need it when trekking through the uneven forest floor. His head held down as he stomped a path into the fallen leaves for her. Her head held up, looking for signs of their long-gone friend somewhere between the trees. 

“Fuck!” She swears, tripping over fallen branches. He reaches back, catching her with the length of his outstretched arm. The first time he had reached for her since he bent to fold her legs across his lap this morning. He felt far away. He was flushed though, worked up with the long trek they both had made. Some odd miles between them and their home now. 

He grunts, lifting her back to her feet with ease. Moving to wipe dead leaves and twigs from her hiking pants unconsciously.

“Should we map this out doll?” 

“Mhm.” She nods, as he reaches back into their shared backpack he had been carrying. Taking out a property map and a compass. He had thought to bring the map, commenting on how they could mark down when they would see odd things throughout the forest, and so they could track where they had already been. She had thought to bring the compass, simply to find their way home. 

She looks down at the unfolded map now held up in his hands, stepping to bend down under his arm, residing in front of his expansive chest and between his outstretched arms. He was warm, she noted, a part of her cooling. 

“Sooooo… I think I saw something around here.” She moved her pencil up, marking along their predetermined path where she thought she had seen tree carvings. She took a step back, running into his chest. Trying to get closer to him, before he would inevitably leave. “I believe we are about 1.5 to 2 miles out from the shack?” She questions, tilting her head back to look at him. 

He grunts, flushed by her proximity. Her back to his chest, he noted how warm she was when she was this close. Her eyes shining up at him in question. She shouldn’t be this close. 

“Mmm, feels like we’ve been walkin’ longer than that.” 

“You may be right.” She hums, her pencil held in her mouth now. “Should we retrace our steps? Get a better estimate? And look at that carving I saw?” 

“Whatever you say, boss.” He grunts, trying to move his eyes away from her. 

“Alright!” She steps back from him, suddenly cold. Ducking beneath his arm and stepping away from him as he begins to fold back up the map. She’d savor whatever he allowed. “Then we’ll be home in time for lunch.” She comments. 

“Can we have those fancy deli sammiches?” 

“Mmmm, sounds good to me.” She shrugs, letting him lead the way back to their home. Trying to find oddities in the tree line, but getting distracted by his shoulders the entirety of the way home. Missing that imprint of him along her back already.

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 3: Handob & Fingering - Joel Miller

Summary: It was hard being single during the apocalypse so you craved those moments to yourself where you could find pleasure, but one day Joel finds you in your most intimate of situations.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, masturbation, caught, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, fingering, handjob

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

It started innocently enough but soon morphed into desperation, fueled by lust and need. The apocalypse had changed everything. Not knowing if loved ones would survive, and most of the time, they didn’t. Loneliness was writhe and soul-crushing.

But on the rare occasion, you’d find someone on the road. Someone who didn’t want to murder or steal what little belongings you’d collected over the previous months of travelling.

This was how you met the group that had allowed you the companionship and safety to travel with. Everyone most kept to themselves, but one in particular had caught your eye, even though neither one of you had spoken even a single sentence to the other. The man who’d caught your eye, Joel, seemed to spend all his time brooding in the corner, communicating with grunts and side eyes.

For months, you’d stayed with the group, and with the realisation that you didn’t need to be on guard 24 hours a day, other needs soon began to return to your body, which only increased with Joel around. 

It was just a harmless crush that fueled your quiet moments to yourself, thinking about the older man, his warm brown eyes that reminded you of large mugs of coffee, the shades of grey that faded throughout his hair and stubble over his handsome face. Even with his standoffish personality, you were drawn to him, finding his roguish behaviour and overprotective tendencies something you were drawn to.

Every other day, you’d give yourself the luxury of finding a quiet corner of wherever everyone was camping and slip your fingers into your underwear. It wasn’t that exciting, however, as you always had to keep a gun up and steady with your dominant hand, so getting off with the other took more time and didn’t hit the spot as you needed it.

It was challenging, to say the least. That is until Joel accidentally discovered you.

You’d tried to be discreet when you moved away from where the camp was situated within the forest, moving far away that you couldn’t hear anyone but close enough that if you screamed or called for help, they could hear. Finding a suitable tree, you sat on the forest floor, the chill already settling into your body from not moving around, but as your hand delved into your jeans, you soon began to warm.

Your lower lip was trapped between your teeth to try and keep any moans at a low volume. Two fingers were pushed deep into your warm hole when a tree branch snapped from being stepped on a few steps away. Instantly, you were on high alert, gun pointing in the direction to find Joel, who had decided to suddenly stumble into the hidden wooden area, worried that you had moved away from the group without backup.

The older man’s hands, including his gun, were raised to show that he was friendly and didn’t mean any harm. Those deep, honeyed eyes that you often thought of were flicking between your other hand and your face.

You didn’t know what to do. Embarrassed and wanting the ground to swallow you whole, even though some of you rationalised that this was a normal bodily function to do, you were sure he probably did the same thing to himself when he had a moment alone.

“Do you want me to keep watch?” Joel's voice was deeper than usual, husky and accent thick with his southern drawl. You blink up at him, confused and two fingers still deep inside of yourself as you open and close your mouth, unsure what to say.

“What?” you asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“I could keep watch”, Joel continued, “You know, so you don’t have to hold the gun up; I’ll make sure nothing and no one interrupts” he nodded his head towards your still-raised gun as he spoke, his face neutral so you couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

Blinking your gaze away from him, the hand holding the gun lowered, deeming him no longer a threat. How on earth was Joel casually standing there, offering to keep watch while you masturbated? Unable to think of a normal response, for example, saying no and walking away and never speaking of the event, was probably what most people would do. But for some reason, in the post-apocalyptic odd world, you confidently look him in the eyes and say, “Fine”.

Joel didn’t speak again; he held his gun tighter and turned away, walking away and out of your eye. You could still hear his thick leather boots scuffing along the floor, but even that was at a reasonable distance, and if you tried to concentrate and listen for something.

Slowly, your gun was dropped to the floor, with complete confidence that he could protect you from any interference. With your dominant hand free now, you could get yourself off significantly easier than the previous times, but also, it may have been to the fact that Joel fricking Miller was within earshot and knew precisely what you were doing. With your fingers curling inside of you and massaging your clit in firm quick circles, your underwear was soaked with slick juices as you came.

Your lip was slightly swollen from having bitten it, so hard to keep your moans quietened, and even your knees felt unsteady as you stood and attempted to clean yourself. However, it was the middle of the forest, so the best that could have been done was to wipe your fingers on your jeans and deal with the dampness of your underwear.

Even though your heart felt like it would pound out of your chest as it thumped violently with anxiety, you tried to remain bold as you walked past Joel and told him, “If you want me to do the same for you, just let me know”.

This was how it all started, almost daily. The two of you would usually be on guard duty together, but you had a sneaky suspicion that Joel asked for it to be this way, and the two of you would stop on your travels and separately masturbate whilst the other stood guard.

With the additional time together during the guarding, you became more comfortable with him, talking endlessly that your little crush had manifested into something more before long. Not that you’d ever tell him; it was like a secret game for yourself, especially as you both could spend hours upon hours together and knowing when he was masturbating sent joy and heat through your entire body.

This only meant that you wanted to see how far you could take it, especially with the strain disappearing as the friendship formed. Your teeth were no longer chewing your lip as you didn’t cover your moans. Not that you would scream through your orgasm; you weren’t willing to risk that with the dangers surrounding wherever you travelled. However, it was just enough that you knew Joel could hear, especially as he would let out his husky moans as he pleasured himself.

Eventually, it got to the point where if one of you masturbated, the other would have to do it immediately due to the arousal of listening to the other. It was becoming a cat-and-mouse game, hardly even waiting for the other to clean up before shoving them out of the room or area to go and keep watch. This only became more dangerous with being caught as you’d begun to entirely remove your jeans and underwear whilst masturbating.

When you kept them on, the trapped space would cause your hands to ache from being confided and trying to find your deep, pleasurable angles. You used the excuse of needing the freedom, but it was mostly to try and lure Joel closer, which mostly worked.

Guarding from a distance became increasingly shorter until the other person was just standing at the entrance to the room or only a step away. Guns still raised in preparation, eyes darting anywhere but the masturbating individual.

However, as the weeks passed, this soon turned into eye contact, fingers pumping or stroking until completion.

The next step in the relationship - friendship - whatever it was. You were unsure as to who made the decision, the one that had been lingering on the edge of being a step too far and never being able to recover from it. Now, you and Joel would sit together and masturbate.

This new development gave you new discoveries. 1. You would orgasm embarrassingly quickly when you were sat staring at Joel’s cock and face as he touched himself. And 2. You were utterly obsessed with Joel’s cock.

Of course, he had a handsome face, but his cock was perfect, in your opinion. The tip was thick and bulbous, a deeper shade than the shaft where pulsing veins ran up the long length. It slightly curved up, giving you more lustful thoughts, knowing just how good it would feel rubbing against your g-spot. You were always mesmerised by his cock, especially seeing it throb as his big hand moved up and down it, squeezing especially as he approached the tip before relaxing on his way back down.

Over time, you began to understand the areas that he liked to be touched, specifically the underside of his shaft and occasionally squeezing his balls would have his left knee shaking as he tried to keep composed. Your composure was thoroughly out of the window the second you both began doing it in the same room; your movements were desperate, sporadic, body trembling, eyes wide, lips parted, and moans flowing from you like one of those porn videos that circulated the internet pre-apocalypse.

You weren’t worried about it, though, because he never complained and would always cum at what he was watching, even sometimes he would react to your noises by making his own or hips jerking to meet his hand's movements. It made you feel powerful, in a way, to see him in a vulnerable state like this and trust him with being in a similar situation yourself.

However, like everything else, it wasn’t enough sometimes. You’d almost drooling over his cock, having stared at it for weeks, wishing to touch it. Did it feel as hot to the touch as your pussy? Did it feel as velvety as you imagined it to be? As downright nasty as it was, you could smell his cock, but that was given with how close you would both sit without any jeans on, but then you were obsessed with smelling him, that musky, manly scent.

So, one day, you decided to bite the bullet and ask, “Can I touch you?”

Joel's eyes widened almost cartoonishly wide, his fist stopping its movements as he just stared at you like he hadn’t heard what you had asked or didn’t understand the question. You both stood there awkwardly, the group having found an abandoned mall. During your security checks, the two of you had stumbled into the women’s toilets, locking yourselves into a cubicle, jeans and underwear dropped to knees, and masturbation commenced. You were both so close, almost sharing the same air, and you were so overcome with arousal that you couldn’t help but ask that question.

The worst he could say was no; for a second, it looked as if he was heading in that direction, but then he licked his lips and agreed, but under one condition. “Only if I can touch you as well”, he drawled, eyes darting back and forth between your own.

There you were, in the middle, god knows where, potentially in imminent danger with the threats lying outside the cubicle space. But you didn’t care, nor did Joel, as he leaned his weight on an arm over your head, pushing himself closer.

The two of you were still holding back, not wanting to be the first to touch the other, but you finally gave in and lifted your palm beneath his hardened cock, wrapping your fingers around the shaft. The skin was soft as you’d expected, warm to the touch, but his length was stiff and throbbing when you squeezed. If you stayed still, you were sure you could count his heartbeat. As your hand moved up and down tentatively, trying to take in every detail of his member, you had to bite your tongue and not moan just from finally feeling each vein that bulged up his shaft.

Joel shuddered as you thumbed over his slit, gathering the bubble of precum that had formed and wiped it on the underside. His breath was warm against your face; he was so close that you could see tiny flecks of gold in his iris’. Not that you were concentrating on that, as all thoughts drifted to the fingers you’d daydreamed about for months as they moved towards your pussy.

Those delicious fingers pressed between your folds, immediately finding your aching clit and the beginning of where your wetness had already seeped. Joel was watching his fingers, and as he pressed firmly against the bundle of nerves, his eyes were suddenly drawn to your mouth as you released a quiet gasp. Moving further down, exploring your labia, he spread his fingers, allowing the cool air to swipe over your now exposed hole.

Joel was stimulating and exploring between your legs, wanting to feel every part of you, especially the juices, thoroughly coating his index and middle finger. You both tried to work together to pleasure the other, but you were both on the verge of snapping and losing control; having not been touched this intimately by another person in years, you needed this, wanted this, and already craving to be touched again.

Slowly pumping his cock, you squeezed in the areas you’d seen him do plenty of times before and were rewarded with a firm circle of your clit and a gruff grunt from Joel.

You were trying not to panic with excitement, you hadn’t even kissed yet, and here you were, giving him a handjob as he fingered you. It was like an out-of-body experience.

Joel’s fingers dipped low, leaving your clit behind, but only because he was desperate to be inside of you, feel your warmth, your texture, and wetness straight from the source. Your knees bucked as he penetrated with his middle finger. He had much wider fingers than you, so you already welcomed the slight burn from being stretched, but then he added his ring finger alongside the other, and you finally knew what true pleasure felt like.

Your head tipped back against the decaying cubicle wall, needing to use it as support as all your thoughts were directed between your legs. Your hand continued to pump his cock, but it was almost on instinct that you were doing as, only really remembering that you were getting him off because he suddenly thrust his hips as you’d squeezed harder around his tip.

This broke the tough exterior Joel was latching onto as his forehead dipped until it was resting against yours. Sharing the same air, eyes delving into the others as hands pleasured the other, moans drifting from one person's moist lips to the next.

Your cunt was tightening around his fingers, mainly as he rested his palm against your clit and pressed, adding more stimulation and fire blooming in your abdomen. Drawing your eyes away from his, you watched the tendons in his wrist twitching as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of your hole, curling into that spot within that had you lingering on the edge of euphoria.

It seemed he had been studying your movements just as much as you’d been doing with him. Everything was becoming too much, needing everything, like you would explode right there on the spot.

“Im gonna cum”, you say under your breath; not sure why you were admitting this as neither of you had spoken up to this point, and he for sure already knew this with how your body was reacting.

“Then cum for baby girl”.

Those words, the nickname, were your undoing as your thighs and hands squeezed and trembled with the pulses of your cunt as you orgasmed into his palm. Your eyes forcefully shut to try and gain some composure so you couldn’t see the lust and darkness that filled Joel’s eyes as he took in every twitch and noise you admitted.

Your fist kept moving in fast short strokes up his leaking cock, and without any warning, he stepped away, allowing air to gather between your sweat-coated bodies. With your hand still moving and both of you now looking at his dick, Joel awkwardly held out his hand underneath his tip, his thighs tensing and cock becoming impossibly hard in your palm as he came. His moans were more profound than usual, lips wet from where he kept repeatedly licking them and eyes so dark they now seemed black.

You watched as his hand, which was still wet from where it had been inside of you was now catching the spurts of white seed, the glooping juice gathering in the centre of his palm until only drips from the tip remained.

Awkwardly, he poured the cum into the broken toilet as he explained his actions, “Didn’t want it to ruin our clothes”. You almost joked that you could have caught it with your mouth, but any words were merely stuck on the tip of your tongue as you had to take a minute to compose yourself.

The air was thick with scents of sweat and sexual activities, musky and dirty. Staring at the man in front of you as he tightened his jean belt, you had the overwhelming urge to kiss him, hold him, stroke his cheek as you fucked him on the disgusting floor. But you were also a coward today and made no such move. Instead, you allowed him to open the cubicle door, ensuring there wasn’t any danger before you both returned to the group like nothing had happened.

[kyra45]

Keys guide to scam spotting (v2)

Hi! I’m Key (Or Jess depending on which blog you know me from) and I’ll be telling you some better information and detail on how to spot a scam account be it a pet scam or a donation scam. All information is based on my own experiences and I’ll try to keep this post accessible so the only big text is the title. This information should help in understanding how these scams work and how to spot them without having to do too much work. As always, if you appreciate what I do and want to show it, sharing these info posts helps other users see it and learn about blogs that might send them asks.

—

What is a donation scam? - A donation scam is when someone is being deceptive to get money by claiming they need mutual aid or support. For example, they are using the story from someone else’s fundraising post in order to get donations and won’t tell anyone their lying. This is called a donation scam. While the story may be legitimate, it is a story stolen off someone else and means the real person isn’t getting the support they asked for because someone else is using it. These stories are often stolen off Facebook/GoFundMe or even Instagram and could come from a private account or group so searching wouldn’t come up with a source. The images may also be stolen from somewhere else too.

How do you spot a donation scam? - Donation scams are usually easily spotted if you take a closer look at the information being given. Stolen stories will often have certain parts removed and replaced with the information the scammer added themselves. Sometimes the post may be composed of two different parts and won’t sound right if you pay close attention. For example, part of the story sounds fine but then the second part of the story seems out of place and doesn’t match up with the beginning. Another thing to check is how old the account is and if you have timestamps on you can see if an older post is backdated. You can also check to see if the account has tagged certain blogs in their post though this isn’t always a sign of a scam.

What is post backdating? - Post backdating is changing the dates of a reblogged post to look older then it really is. While this can be used with good intentions, scammers often use this to trick people into thinking their account is years old or even a few months old. The one way to find this is by turning on timestamps in dashboard settings and checking ‘other notes’ in reblogs. This is the only way to see the true date something was shared. Accounts who backdate posts will often claim someone told them to do it or they’ll say they didn’t know it was bad. However, you can not accidentally backdate a post.

Did the account contact you first? - A common occurrence is that you will get scam asks if you share a popular or trending post. Usually these accounts send asks to anyone they find without care of who it is and might lie as well if you ask them how they found you. In general, a brand new account shouldn’t easily find you unless they were watching the notes of popular posts. Occasionally these new accounts will even send asks to certain accounts they shouldn’t know about unless they have seen the account before. If your DMs are closed, the ask may ask you to message them because it’s urgent but all they will do is ask for money or ask you to loan them some money.

—

What is a pet donation scam? - A pet donation scam is where someone has went and looked around for vet fundraisers online and then took it for themselves by saving the images and story while erasing any links that would lead to the real pet getting support. They will then repost it to tumblr and say it’s actually their pet needing urgent care with the post title being very large and in red text for a sense of urgency. Sometimes they’ll say they can’t use GoFundMe because it has a fee or something else. This is a scam because they are not the owner of the pet and have stolen everything meaning no funds sent will be towards the actual pets care.

How do you spot a pet donation scam? - A common way of a pet donation scam is by how old the pinned post is and how many posts are reblogged on the account. Usually there is only a few posts shared and always shared around the same time and then no more. These posts all come from a trending topic, a fandom, or are popular posts. Another thing is checking the bio in Google search and seeing if it’s been took from someone else as the scammer never makes their own bio. Reverse image search their pfp to see who it really belongs to in case they stole it. Another important thing is to check their link and see if it matches up with the vet bill. Since most pictures are stolen off a private group, reverse image search won’t find them. The name they may have is likely not their real name and is stolen.

Did the account send you an ask? - Regardless of what the ask says, it usually requests you to answer it privately or message them so they can tell you thanks. These asks may have several emojis in them as well but their always just copy/pasted and sent to multiple users all at once on a daily basis. The private answer is so the ask won’t show up if someone is looking it up. If their post is public, there shouldn’t be a reason to need a private response to an ask you have sent to many people unless you are trying to hide it. Messaging these accounts is useless because they’ll lie to you when you ask them questions back or just ignore you.

—

What is a fake check scam? - A fake check scam is when a generally blank account with no pfp will message you after you used certain tags and ask you if you still need help. Even if you have links to send support, these accounts will ignore that in order to ask for your personal information such as phone number or banking details. They will then offer to send you a check. This is a fake check and cashing it won’t be scamming the scammer. You will lose money instead and the scammer will already move on to someone else. Never give them your private information.

Are there any other scam types? - When you tag posts, you’ll often get messages from accounts claiming they can help you get more attention on your campaign but you have to pay them money or go off-site to contact them. These are fake support accounts and they always use stock images while pretending to be officially affiliated and act like their Digital Marketing title means their not trying to scam you. They get defensive when called out and may start insulting you when they figure out you are already aware they aren’t legitimate.

—

What is a funeral donation scam? - A funeral donation scam is when an account posts saying someone has passed away but the images they used are actually took from someone else and may be photoshopped. Bills may be edited to suit their story and names may be changed to someone else’s. This isn’t a real common scam! But it’s happened a lot lately but the basics are the account will steal someone’s pictures and pass them off as theirs and when caught will say they were forced to or know it’s wrong but did it anyway.

—

In closing, this is information regarding common scam types you’ll find on tumblr. It’s always suggested to pay close attention to asks you get it they fit the criteria of being sent from a scammer. Answer the asks publicly and call out the blog. The scammer may block you as a result, but it’ll help your ask be seen it someone has looked it up. I suggest never spamming asks to share your pinned aid post because unfortunately scammers do this and you shouldn’t ignore people saying to please stop spamming. Always check to see if someone is comfortable getting these kinds of asks too because it won’t look too good if you have sent them an ask when they say please don’t.

As always, not everyone asking for support is a scammer! Legitimate people are out there. It’s just unfortunate scammers have made it harder for them to get help. You can always do your own research and compare it to what others have given and come to your own conclusion.

[starry-eyed-adam]

OHHHH BABY WE DID IT (100 followers on tumblr and 2k hits on ao3)

DTIYS TIME.

from the most recent chapter of Head Over Boots, Chapter 19!

thank you to my mutuals!!!!!!!

@wanderinguteruspress-blog

@imdefnotvanessa

@risestarkiss

@walkinthewoodsfrolicintheforest

@notjustdragonspages

@3mutantsinatrenchcoat

@sloppy-syrup

@littlemissartemisia

@theemployees

I appreciate yall more than you can know

textless, rules, other stuff below :)

link to the chapter

rules-

- you’re free to change what you’d like, just keep the general idea of like. the photos being a terrifying revelation lmao

- you have until April 15th!

- tag me and use #starry eyed adams dtiys so I can see it!!

- be creative be silly whatever you want!!

prizes :) -

first (personal favorite): full color and shaded drawing of whatever you want (max of 4 characters)

second (most creative): full color of whatever you want (max of 2 characters)

third (best coloring/rendering): sketch/lineart of whatever you want (max of 1 character)

prize rules- nothing really! ROTTMNT related is ideal but OCs or anything else I’ll do! just no complex backgrounds (pleeease I’m bad at them)

again! you have until April 15th!

(bonus points if you get it done before/around March 27th so I get a lil birthday present :))) )

HAVE FUN AND THANK YOU AGAIN SO SO SO MUCH FOR FOLLOWING, READING, COMMENTING, ETC!!!

[personasintro]

FAQ

Since I’ve been getting same questions all the time, it’s probably for the best I finally made this post!

When do you update?

As it’s stated in my pinned post, I don’t have any schedule — therefore I update whenever I finish the whole process of writing (drafting, writing, editing).

I can’t see your pinned post. Why?

It’s most likely that you have to change your settings first to see mature content. I heard you can do that through browser since app doesn’t have that option yet. This link might be helpful, check it out!

What inspired you to write?

I’ve always had a close relationship with writing but it’s never been that serious. My proper first memory of writing something was when me and my friend wrote stories for each other haha. I decided to write and post my first fanfiction after I read a few of them. It inspired me to try it on my own and here I am. (A very short version hehe)

What’s your favorite story of yours?

It depends on the day, it changes almost every day haha so I guess we’ll never get a proper answer!

What inspired you to write Mutual Help?

I just wanted to write a fake dating au + Jungkook series. It somehow just came together! Nicely I hope hehe!

How many chapter is MH gonna have?

I don’t know unless it’s stated otherwise. It’s hard to give you an approximate amount of chapters. But I’ll inform you either in my author’s note or here under the tag ask: mutual help.

What ending it’s gonna have?

That’s something I don’t want to answer and reveal. I wish to reveal it in the story!

My asks weren’t answered. Why?

It might be the case of multiple reasons.

Tumblr might’ve ate your ask. It’s no secret that sometimes happens (unfortunately).

I don’t feel comfortable answering that particular message/question.

Your question has been just answered recently. I recommend checking tags for each story (ex. ask: mutual help, ask: monachopsis etc…). I understand not everyone wants to catch up with my asks, but please understand I can’t answer the same respective questions over and over again 🥺 I would do nothing else than just answering the same questions every day.

One of the reasons might be because I’m getting many asks daily & it’s impossible for me to answer them all. I really wish I could but unfortunately, that’s not possible 🥺 and for that I apologize! It came to that point where I have to be picky and choose what to answer and what not.

Have you ever wanted to be a professional writer? Is that your goal?

No! This is just a hobby for me 😊

Do you have any fics recommendations?

All my fics recs can be found under the tag “fic rec” 😇

[thedvilsinthedetails]

goodbye [don’t get worried]

Hi hellsite users, 

sorry for the long post but I wanted to properly say goodbye. Before anyone starts worrying this is a good goodbye not a bad goodbye. 

But still, tumblr meant a lot to me for a period of time where I really wasn’t doing very well, I was crazy burnt out, my self esteem was nonexistent, I felt stuck in stasis and on top of that I was feeling like I had absolutely no one - like no one would care if I even lived or died.

Tumblr helped me feel so much less alone and I will always be thankful for the online world it allowed me to escape into and the amazing people I got to interact with and meet. 

The thing is, I’m doing a lot better now. I mean don’t get me wrong I’m by no means perfect and neither is my life but for the first time in a really, really fucking long time I actually feel like I’m capable of moving on and not being stuck anymore. A lot of things have changed - I don’t know if it’s good or bad but it was definitely necessary either way. 

I’ve got a lot of hope and excitement for the future, I’ve got proper dreams I want to work hard to achieve…in general I feel like I have a reason not to need to escape my life anymore. 

That’s why I think it’s time to stop visiting my little online world - or at least, I’m not going to be coming here as frequently anymore. If you want to talk to me, send me a message and I promise I’ll see it soon enough but I don’t really know if I’ll be posting much anymore. 

I’ll still be writing fics I think because I enjoy it but I’m definitely stepping down from blogging because I need to start being present in my own life. The only exception is that I might post links to my writing on ao3.

I know this sounded really dramatic at first and as you read you probably went - oh that’s kind of not a big deal. That’s because I’ll never not be a dramatic motherfucker <3 but also because this is actually a really big deal to me even if it probably shouldn’t be. 

To my amazing friends and mutuals I’ve met here - I’ll never forget you and I hope you don’t forget me. Please do feel free to DM me or drop stuff in my inbox.

Tagging some of my moots/friends: @sleepinginmygrave, @vivusmortuusexcrucior , @picklerab23, @mxed-salad-greens, @good-oldfashioned-lover, @addsalwayssick, @idk-what-to-put-here-123, @nikholascr0w, @icarus-last-fall

Intro post can be found here

[stormandsparks]

Disclaimer for anyone who interacts with me

i mean anyone

whether we’ve been mutuals for months or only met yesterday when you reblogged my post

if I say something that is hurtful or tag something wrong PLEASE TELL ME

if I say something that’s offensive PLEASE TELL ME

if you feel genuinely hurt by something I’ve written then link the post and I’ll take it down. unless you want me to take it down bc you hate trans people or Star Trek or something, that’s just petty.

but if you think something I said was ableist or racist or anything or you’re missing the context for it

TELL ME

Because I am not the kind of person who enjoys making people feel hurt

i am not the kind of person who enjoys creating arguments

i am the kind of person who panics massively when they think someone doesn’t like them

who can’t deal with the idea of having hurt a group they don’t belong in or even one they do

who is terrified EVERY DAY of having misstepped

I would rather you just told me outright what I’ve done wrong than you avoid me or pretend I don’t exist. i don’t want to hate anyone or be hated. So can you just tell me if I’ve done something you don’t like? I’ll do my best to change.

[camilaxmartin]

gonna put them emoji’s again💀😭 so it would be: 🥑🍬🌸🐝🎨🍄

I love using these TOTALLY USEFUL emoji’s so I picked em🥰

you don’t use avocado/bee/mushroom everyday? what are you even doing?🙄

BUT ANYWAY

🥑: you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?

probably @bunnylove1 and @blookyag, idk why tho honestly, just getting the vibes they’d help somebody out with hiding the body💀 (it’s a compliment, i swear-)

🍬: post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character:

okay uhh- (don’t cancel me plz) i respect with my whole heart that alastor is asexual and (?) aromantic but i don’t get the hate people receive when shipping him with someone? as far as i know being on the spectrum means he can still date? like i know, he doesn’t show any interest in that but if its just for a silly au or for a cool drawing then what’s the fuss about? i’m not talking like about erasing that part of him because that’s a big no no for me, but like…? respecting it but still having fun with his character? i saw a great tiktok explaining my thoughts exactly so maybe i’ll link it here if i can find it (add the link here later camila:) (besides all that i project a lot of myself onto alastor (still debating if im aromantic or not) and i want to explore myself with his character (if i can even phrase it that way) so all the hate and shit really bother me, you know?)

(another thing more about whole thing not a character is that “whatever it takes” is in my top 4 songs and i don’t get the hate it gets?? i love this song?? it’s so great?? two latina (?) girls singing together?? cmon??)

🌸: do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them:

i do actually! i have a dog and three rats:) (also had a rabbit but he died not so long ago and he was like my whole world so i got a tattoo to remember him, i’ll add it as well just because i can)

🐝: tag your biggest supporters and say one nice thing about them:

@kimmyisachiisaiakuma - ugh of course?? like in my head we are already besties fr fr, what can i saaaay😭 idk i love you and how supportive and just friendly you are!!:) and god of course, i love your art?? but i’ve already said it a thousand times??? so here’s one thousand first??

@bunnylove1 - just how supportive you are towards my stuff and how with exactly one request i felt like we also became besties? maybe it’s just me but yeah😭

@blookyag - liking my every post and responding to every single one of them!!! she’s a treasure, really. i’m surprised someone cares about my rambling this much💀

@informist - i’ve noticed that she’s also reacting to a lot of my stuff and she’s so quick with it like?? idk it makes my heart jump okay? i love attention from people even when it’s just my stupid rambling😭 (#iamanattentionwhore 😗😗)

@rougecreator1 - liked a lot of my posts as well, and somehow i feel like they enjoy my stuff? idk tho?😭😭 yeah just noticed interactions in my activities:)

@riveramorylunar - i feel like we were more active on each other’s accounts when i was still in my lady lesso era, but idk i really liked you then and i still love seeing your stuff pop up on my main page:)

and of course, all of my lovely anons who send me their ideas that i can’t wait to write!!:)

🎨: link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it:

okay so like it changes every day?? but for now i must say this one:

click!

why? simple. a. brokerdoll b. the marvellous style? c. i want to draw like that d. just… just look at it okay? e. lesbians.

(and a special mention for THIS as well, as it’s the first time someone ever drawn my oc and besides the fact that she looks so pretty here it’s just… idk i just love it okay, she stole my heart)

🍄: share a headcanon for one of your favourite ships or pairings:

let’s start with the fact that i even have a favourite account for all the headcanons about brokerdoll which is @vypridae (adore all the hcs, really)

buut! my personal headcanon is:

• carmilla didn’t really expect to fall for velvette, i mean in my head she just saw her as so… respectless and dumb and stupid and careless and carefree and wild and free and pretty- wait

yeah, so in my head velvette was the first to initiate anything and at first carmilla was like “ha! no way, you stupid girl” but then she started to think more and more about velvette as the time went on and one day she just got along the fact that she might be attracted to the young overlord and somehow… went with it? like she didn’t make a big deal out of it… but velvette definitely did, despite the fact she was actually the first one to say or act on her attraction in any way.

(i need to write more headcanons for them, they’re literally eating up my brain)

[damnedrainbows]

RULES:

These are five years old and are going to change with things to be added in the next few days, but they’re mostly the same! A i was informed they weren’t showing up on my blog so I made a pin for now

Muses:

Generally the entire show, but my mains are Alastor, Lucifer, and Charlie

Following and Unfollowing

I am selective.

I will only follow back blogs I actively wish to RP with. Or people I’ve made friends with. I’ll be ever grateful for every follower I get, but it doesn’t mean I’ll follow you back.

You don’t have to be an rp blog for me to rp with you. One of my partners is just a normal fandom blog. Writing is writing C:

I don’t do exclusives. For me I find it takes a lot of the opportunities away to get to know more cool people. If you want to make me an exclusive for something…go right ahead, but I won’t do the same. You’ll simply stay my partner. I want to be able to interact with everyone. That being said, I do mains! That doesn’t really mean anything other than your blog would be the first I tag if I see something that reminds me of our muses, that sorta thing.

If I hear wind that you’re harassing any of my friends you’re done. And if you’re harassing me in any way. I do not put up with bad treatment of my friends or me. You don’t want a block from me. Jordan doesn’t block ANYBODY.

Threads and Communication

Sometimes I’ll have long posts, sometimes short ones. It depends purely on my inspiration at the time, but I’ll always put my best effort in. I want you to do so too!

Before writing any verse you want to do, please talk to me first C:

I LIVE FOR RANDOM STARTERS TBH. It’s like…waking up to Christmas morning and seeing your present. Mutuals please drop me a random starter any time.

I play my characters the way I want to play them, the way I interpret them. So if you don’t like how they’re played, that’s fine, but I’m not likely to change it.

If you send IC memes please specify the muse, since…well, I have the whole show.

I’m of age so I do smut but nothing too-too graphic. It will be tagged of course.

My threads are for my PARTNER only. Or partners if it’s a threeway. Please do not reblog them. You can like em, you can use the little reply button to say something–if you really want to talk about something that’s happening in them shoot me a message-but do not reblog unless you are said partner. C:

For the love of God, don’t hound me. I’m aware I can take a while to reply, but I have a lot of threads usually at the same time and some I have more muse for than others. Please don’t link me to our thread, please don’t say “it’s your turn” or some sort of variation of passive aggressive harassment. You aren’t going to make me respond faster. You are just going to spark my anxiety and make me resent our rp. If it’s been four days feel free to message me–not four hours.

Unless you’re a canon character my muse needs to get to know you a bit. C: So it’s unlikely you can just pop up to one of my muses, never having met, like ‘hi, how you been?’ and not have them be like “who da fuck are you"

Shipping

Shipping will mainly be thread-dependent. If you feel like our muses may mesh, go for it!

I will not tolerate hate for what I ship. I don’t need to be told I’m shipping something unhealthy because chances are I’ll state it’s unhealthy and I by no means condone dating a psychopath in real life. Hate will be deleted and blocked.

When it comes to OC ships and any ship really, ship needs chemistry. Do not force a ship onto my muses. They need to get to know each other, and this mainly applies to OC ships–not so much the pr-established characters in the show. If I already ship it, I’m down to jumping straight into a shipping thread.

Crossovers

I am mildly less selective with crossovers since this show is literally…all about crossing over into other media. I’m still selective but not as much. For my own comfort I won’t be rping with characters from the Sonic franchise.

Triggers and Tagging

I know very little about triggers myself and what people consider a trigger. IF you want something tagged you’ll have to ask. I’ll be clueless otherwise, but I will tag all ships. And the basic gore and blood and such. Be aware of the fact I have bad memory problems. If I forget to tag something you asked me to tag I’m sorry, it wasn’t on purpose.

This is an insanely dark show and there will be a lot of blood and gore and horror. There will be torture and killing talk, but it will still be tagged.

Mun Notes

I have serious memory problems. Like, really bad due to a combo of illnesses. Cut me some slack, I’m going to forget rules and probably certain triggers if I’m not used to tagging them. You have no ida how many friggin rule pages I’ve read on this blog. I’ll do my best but I’m going to forget, and probably more than once. It’s not my fault, I’m trying my hardest.

I do not do passcodes. For some reason they make me…severely anxious and I don’t know why. If we rp, I’ve read your rules, rest assured. If you really really depend on a passcode…well, we probably won’t be rping then. ;-; sorry.

I’m a physically disabled person who’s online rather…all the time because I can’t work really. So rp is like all I got going on right now as I work on my animation portfolio at home.

I’m a very sweet twenty two four old that loves to talk to people. Talk to me any time about my muse, about anything! Feel free to approach me just to talk in general. I really love people! We don’t have to rp to be friends.

And finally, what I write, my characters’ views do not reflect my own. I do not condone the destruction of entire civilization or eating babies. Unless they are tasty babies.

[fanby-fckry]

📌 Welcome, friends, foes, and passersby, to my personal piece of fandom Hell.

Have you made your daily clicks yet, today?

If you have money to donate, please take a look at these vetted fundraisers.

18+ Blog

No minors. No bigots. No blank blogs/default icons.

No Minors: I’m an adult posting adult content on my adult blog; I will block you on sight.

No Bigots: “Bigots” includes rad fems, exclusionists, and zionists. Trans people need feminism, too, gatekeeping helps no one, and zionism does not equate to Judaism (implying that genocide is a Jewish value is antisemitism).

No Blank Blogs: For context on why I block default icons, see this post.

I intend to use my block button liberally, but I’m hoping the big text will help at least a little bit.

I also edit this post/my blog theme to include a comical amount of 18+ disclaimers whenever I get fed up with the amount of minors trying to follow me. Idk if it works, but it’s cathartic.

Fandom is meant to be fun, so if you’re here to spread hate, don’t. <3 I’ll just block you, and neither of us will gain anything from it.

This Blog Contains:

Adult content

Kink

Problematic media

Fictional depictions of violence and gore

Discussion of potentially triggering content

Please see this post for a list of tags you may want to block.

As a rule of thumb, I tend to tag things #[trigger] cw and use the keep reading feature in extreme cases. Please ask if you need me to tag something.

Viewer discretion is advised; be safe, bloggers.

Fandoms:

The Amazing Devil (Band)

Avatar: the Last Airbender

Doctor Who

Fullmetal Alchemist

Good Omens

Harry Potter – I do not support JKR

🖤 Hazbin Hotel

🖤 Helluva Boss

Steven Universe

The Witcher

I tend to cycle through them based on the whims of my wretched gremlin brain. When and why the cycle changes is unknown even to me.

Current main fandoms are marked with a ‘🖤’

About Me:

You can call me Fanby. I’m over 25 years old and use an assortment of pronouns, but mainly they/them, xe/xem, and it/its.

I’m queer in just about every sense of the word and fucked in the head, not in my bed. I have freed myself from the shackles of amatonormativity (10/10, highly recommend) and am living my best life as a polyamorous, (a)sexual deviant.

I don’t owe anyone my exact labels or diagnoses, but I do share them When I Feel Like It™️.

Other Socials:

AO3: Fanby

Pronouns.page: fanby-fckry — flags need updating again, tbh.

Spotify: Fanby

Twitter: fanby_fckry — not very active.

Side Blogs:

Poetry: @refinedandgivenform

Tag Lists:

Note: I’m not always the best at tagging things. Sometimes I make mistakes, mistag or forget a tag. If you notice something is mistagged or missing a tag, please feel free to send me an ask or dm me about it!

Main Tags

Accessibility Tags

Tags to Block

Refs, Recs, and Resources

Fanfic Masterlists:

Hellaverse (Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss)

The Witcher

Kinktober

AO3 Exclusives – Links to the AO3 collection

Greatest Hits:

Fake Tumblr Dash Masterpost

Fandom + Tumblr Masterpost

Apollo’s Dodgeball Masterpost

The UHverse Memes/Meta/Etc. – AKA: the Unholyverse; the extended universe for UH3/The Unholy Trinity

The Little Demon AU Memes/Meta/Etc. – working title for my Hazbin Hotel/The Little Mermaid AU

The haiku bot reblogged my post – And then another one

Unintentionally Popular Aroace Alastor Post – And someone drew it!!

I added onto a Helluva Boss post and for some reason it became incredibly popular, to the point of showing up in my top posts for a good amount of time

Requests:

Fanfiction requests are open to mutuals only.

Please read this post before requesting.

[caustic-caffeine]

my thoughts on the instagram ai situation, as a digital artist on the platform

figured i’d write and share this around so others in the community i’m in know my status. sooo, some basics for starters:

“Are you leaving Instagram? Where can I find you active?”

i’m staying on instagram for the time being. seeing as instagram almost certainly already has the data of my past posts, i won’t be deleting anything; going forward, i’ll be using ai disturbance filters and other anti-ai overlays for any stills i post. i anticipate using instagram for reels primarily, as well as staying in communications with mutuals and other artists. i do have a cara account, but will likely be posting intermittently until some issues i’ve noticed get addressed. going forward, i’ll most likely be at my most active over here! growth, fortunately, never was a priority in my social media presence so i’m not super concerned about that.

tldr:

instagram: gonna continue posting reels and occasional stills, will be primarily focused on interacting with fellow artists

here: most active! will post both rough and polished stills, as well as lore and whatever random thoughts pop into my head. (see pinned post for a tag guide)

cara: activity will be low unless shit really hits the fan on instagram and i can no longer protect my work via overlays. if you’re an insta moot, feel free to dm me if you want me to share your posts around, though! if the link doesn’t work: i’m @/asphodelity [EDIT] cara does work with an ai organization, hive; here is a post that goes into it and other things people have said about the platform! as i already wasn’t intending to use the platform all that often this won’t change anything for me, but make sure to do your research if you’re looking into the platform!

“Will this affect how much you post?”

not really! i already have a fairly sporadic posting schedule, so i’ll just be continuing what i’ve been doing: posting when i have things i wanna share :]

“Help! I’m an Instagram artist and want to know how to protect my art!”

i gotchu.

[EDIT] the non-glaze/nightshade/artshield filters are mostly ineffective! it won’t hurt you to use them, but if you can stick to using the glaze and nightshade sites!! if you don’t have a pc, you can apply to get a webglaze account!

how to (hopefully) opt out of your art being scraped in the european union (i think?)

how to (hopefully) do the same in the united states (note: post could be outdated)

other ways to protect your art: one, two, three, four

ai disturbance filters: one, two, three (set these to overlay at 30% as the top layer for most effectiveness! these aren’t as effective as using a website like glaze, but are better than nothing)

after june 26, no matter your region, you’ll be unable to opt out of ai data training. this affects, to my knowledge, everything you post, including captions.

“Any other thoughts?”

now, more than ever, we as a community need to stick together and support each other. don’t let anyone tell you your art isn’t worth anything; we as artists have something very special in our ability to create, express ourselves, and connect with the world around us, an algorithm and misguided techbros will never be able to take that away from us. keep pursuing what you love, my friends; we have to weather the storm to see the rainbow.

my dms are always open for art reasons. need a pep talk? i’m around. wanna collab or trade? i’d love to! need help boosting your social medias? i’m happy to help (although my presence is admittedly very small). whatever it is, i’m here and willing to help!

i’ll keep updating yall on this platform as my activity changes (or, perhaps, something big related to ai happens), so be sure to stick around if that seems interesting! also, please feel free to reblog this post and add more information i may have missed, that’s all for now, thank you for your time <3

[simmetrycal]

ash x gn!reader *ೃ༄

synopsis:

ash takes you to hang out to rekindle your friendship.

word count: 4k

MINORS DNI or i’ll push your mother off a cliff

tags and cw: gender neutral reader, smut, fluff, oral m!receiving, mutual pining, aftercare

authors note: guys i KNOW.

✧˚ · .

you’ve known ash for quite some time now. since sharing a class way back when in college, you were friends in fact. though, ash has many friends now and it proved difficult over the years to pin him down for a hangout.

still, he invites you to each and every one of his parties. and you’ve attended almost all.

though, when one time you didn’t, he actually noticed. a text came through on your phone the next day reading, “missed you last night! pop out next time?”

you maybe wished he asked about why you missed it, hoping to tell him about the way your car couldn’t start at all and he’d be concerned, even bring you something to cheer you up.

but he never did. you simply responded with “you know i’ll be there!”. he hearted the message but didn’t say anything else.

god, why is it so hard to talk to him?

you sit in a cafe booth on your break, twirling around a straw with your thumb and index, taking sips of your drink every so often. you ponder texting him again, simply for fun or to ask him to hang out.

you two used to hang out so much but nowadays he has his big boy job and you rarely see him, unless at those parties.

which get wild sometimes, by the way. he really knows how to make the aura in the room burn with intensity. it could be the music, though. or the bright color-changing lights, or a combination of both.

but no, it wasn’t either of those, it was him.

when he comes down from those stairs the party actually starts. people’s energies rise and never fall. they rip him away in every direction. he’s unable to stay in one place for long, getting pulled around by person after person.

he seems to love it though. i mean, who wouldn’t? it’s the attention and adoration from everyone in the room.

and there you were, being another one of those oglers. appreciating him for everything he is. how much he helps people, cares for them, is there for them.

you want to ask him to hang out but hesitate hitting send on your phone, slumping down and staring at the ceiling, unsure of what to do.

would he even want to hang out? what would the two of you do? would he reject you?

wait.. reject?

it’s not like you have a crush on him.. right?

not like you care if he’s busy or if he’s hanging out with other people. of course not.

so why do you feel a pang in your chest hoping for a text back after you say “link up?”

normally you would never use that phrase but it’s something you picked up for his vocabulary. so perhaps it’d strike his interest. you did that a lot actually— copy his lingo. it was too catchy not to.

minutes turn into hours and hours turn into nearly the whole day. you were brushing your teeth at midnight after marathoning your favorite movie series with your friend before he texted back.

the phone buzzed on the counter as you gargled, startling you. you spat and looked at it, not daring to flip it upwards. anxiously waiting for your nerves to die down.

you told yourself to except the worst. that he doesn’t want to hang out with you alone. or that he’s busy. he can’t make it.

“i’d love to! can i scoop you in 20?”

twenty minutes?! that’s so short notice. and.. oh my gosh?! he wants to hang out!

you fought a big smile that was threatening to take over your face. instead you push it down and blush, heading to your closet rather quickly.

twenty minutes is fine. anything’s fine.. if it’s for him.

as you dressed you thought about how you were going to steal that phrase: “scoop”, but your friend piped up from the living room.

“where are you going?” they ask, getting up to come down the hall. they turn the corner as you pull up a pair of pants with your nice top not yet on. “oh! you’re half naked, okay!” they laugh and turn around with the speed of light.

you clear your throat, embarrassed to say what you’re about to. “um, you know how i have been waiting for a text back from ash?”

“did he?! is that what you’re getting ready for? but it’s night?!” they finish. earlier you told your friend all about how you’ve been eager to see him lately.

“i.. kind of don’t care that it’s night.” you say sheepishly, with your shirt now and walking past them back to the bathroom.

“is this a D appointment?” they ask, leaning against the door frame. your jaw drops.

“no! i don’t feel that way for him! he’s simply my friend.” you state, examining yourself closely in the mirror.

“right.”

“what?”

“i can see it all over you. you’re excited to see him and you lowkey want action. am i right or am i right?”

did you want action?…. i mean, you wouldn’t necessarily be opposed if the opportunity arose— no. what were you thinking? this is lewd!

“hello?” your friend waved their hand in the direction of your face. “earth to y/n.”

“i don’t want action with him. like i said, he’s my friend.”

“mkay.. keep telling yourself that.” they laugh and walk off, knowing deep down you both are thinking the same thing. “i’m sleeping in the middle until you get back. starfish style because no one can tell me otherwise.” they climb onto your queen size bed.

-

ash picks you up in the parking lot of your apartment building. his audi is parked in a handicapped spot because it’s closest.

“you can’t park there you know,” you say as you get in the car.

he laughs and puts it in reverse once you sit and buckle in. “and who’s around to stop me?” he says, putting his hand on your seat to glance out his back window. the sight of that was attractive to say that least, but you ignore the feeling.

you look around and sure enough there’s almost no cars in the lot. huh.

“how are you, y/n? i haven’t seen you in a hot minute!” he says, looking at the road.

“i’m doing good! how about yourself?”

as he talks, you find yourself zoning out, just staring at him. all of him.

he smells good, the cologne graced air hangs in the atmosphere of the car. he’s wearing a snug black shirt and a watch, and his hair is wet from a shower. you can’t stop staring.

he might’ve noticed but he said nothing, though, you swore you caught a small grin on him.

“anyhow,” he finishes, “too much office drama for me in my opinion.”

“i thought you enjoyed that sort of thing.”

he chuckles. “you know what… actually yeah, i do sorta like it. but! not when it’s revolving around me— i like to observe.” he says as he comes to a red light.

“i completely get that.” you reply, still looking at him.

because of the light he turns to face you, taking a long look at you. “i haven’t seen you in so long. like this i mean.” the light turns green.

“i don’t understand.”

“like.. just the two of us, like we used to do.”

“i know! i missed it, and um..” you bite the inside of your cheek. “i’m really glad you said yes— i almost expected you to be too busy.”

“i’m never too busy.”

“really?”

“well.. maybe sometimes but, most of the time, just shoot me a text.” he says, patting you on the leg. it does something to you that you force yourself to push down. “i’m always down to see you.”

after some time in the car filled with chatting he parks and you blink, somehow you didn’t even notice that he drove you both all the way to the ice rink.

you shake your head. “ice skating?”

“what?” he looks at you full on, then glances down at your seatbelt, unbuckling it for you. “can’t skate?”

you purse your lips and fight another cheeky smile. fuck, why does he make you just want to grin from ear to ear when nothing is even going on?

“i’m just bad at it! i always fall.” you say to him as you both get out and walk towards the building.

“i’ll hold your hand, you won’t fall!”

you did fall. a lot.

as the two of you skated, ash messed around way too much- holding your hand sometimes and others just letting you figure it out on your own.

sometimes he’d even let go to chat with the many people there. of course he knew at least someone on the rink. typical ash.

it was actually odd how many people were there on a monday night. perhaps hockey practice.

when he let go you always wobbled, grabbing onto his arm or his shoulder to balance yourself.

he tried teaching you, and for the most part, you started to get it. though, you were jealous of how well he wandered over the ice effortlessly. his movements were perfect, like he’d been doing this for years and years.

all you had to do was ask though, why he was so good at it, and he’d tell you. apparently you had no idea he played hockey in high school after he swore you told you before.

“i was a goalie though, a fat goalie,” he laughed as he helped you skate, holding your hands as he skated backwards with ease.

the two of you were there for quite some time, just talking the night away. it felt so much easier than you thought it’d be. it was like you both picked up right where you left off, not caring about all the time that went by since you were close in college. he was still the same man. sweet and attentive, only focused on you.

a big part of you thought he would be distracted, maybe taking calls or texts, or simply not interested- but that were never the case.

you honestly loved it. you had his full, undivided attention, always.

the arena was cold and he didn’t seem to be affected by it. but you, on the other hand, were. shivering in your day to day clothes more and more after each time you hit the ice.

at some point, you hit the ground a bit too rough and scraped your palm. the pain was almost nonexistent because of how cold your hands were, but ash still rushed to your side.

he accidentally sprayed up ice chips and snow from his skates when he slid to a stop by you, leaning down and brushing it all off.

some “hehe’s” and “sorry’s” left his lips, but you were too busy paying attention to how he helped you up gracefully.

he sat you down on a bench in the lobby and removed your skates. no more ice for tonight.

you felt more comfortable without the tightly laced boots, but the feeling earlier of him putting them between his legs to tighten them for you was honestly better. perhaps you’d have to come back here with him sometime just so he can do that for you again.

he even put your own shoes back on for you, seeing as your hands were too cold. his were a bit red too but not like yours. perhaps he could help—

before you knew it he was taking both of your hands in his up to his cheeks.

his face was so so soft. like.. what does he do to moisturize because, damn. they were warm too, heating up your hands. he smiled that contagious, goofy grin he always did.

it made you want to.. nevermind.

he looked at you for a long moment, and you couldn’t break the eye contact- it was captivating.

“your eyes are annoyingly blue,” you mention without thinking. he did a stupid face to mimic that one hannah montana meme and it made you burst out laughing.

“i get that so often you don’t even know,” he says as he helps up. it was weird being on skates and now with your feet flat on the ground, the transition felt wobbly.

ash took you to his car and turned the heat up for you, even reaching under his seat to pull out a first aid kit.

your face was pink as he held the still-wrapped bandaid between his teeth, watching him clean the scrape with an alcohol wipe. he then opened the bandaid and placed it right over your wound. patting it for good measure.

“good? or should i kiss it better?” he says with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

you think for a moment, trying to play off your attraction to him as a joke. “kiss it better? maybe? just to make sure.”

he nods and takes your hand up to his mouth and kisses it, maintaining eye contact with you.

you try to pull away after out of hesitation but his grip is unrelenting. “better?”

the blush on your cheeks must be so obvious by now, so you look away and nods when he lets go.

“hey..” he says, turning your chin to look at him. this surprised you, making you blush even more. “i had a good time tonight.”

“yeah?” you try to sound confident but your voice is barely a whisper.

“yeah. i wanted to come and skate tonight anyway.. and i wanted to see you.”

there was a pause before he spoke again.

“why weren’t you at the last party? i like seeing you at those.”

so he is asking after all..

“my car wouldn’t start, but trust me i wanted to come.”

“you should’ve called me! i would’ve totally came to pick you up. i mean, that’s what friends are for, right?”

friends. yes.

“right. i’ll call you if it happens next time.”

“good. because i need you at those parties you know.” he says and leans back into his seat, looking at nothing out the window.

you cock your head. “you do?”

“yeah, duh. who else am i supposed to look at?”

you scoff-laugh. me? “i dunno, maybe the bajillion other people there.” you don’t even get crazy at his parties nor do you spend more than maybe 10 minutes with him there every time.

“y/n.” he says, taking your hand. “remember the first party you came to?”

“the one where you fell down the stairs?”

he laughs, remembering it. “yeah, but do you wanna know why i did that?”

“why..?”

“because i quite literally tripped when i saw you.”

“oh shut up..” you roll your eyes and smile, feeling good about yourself.

“i was so happy to see you y/n. i just feel.. comfortable around you- excited around you.”

“yeah, right..”

“don’t believe me?”

“um..” you think about it for a moment. “not really, ash. i mean, look at yourself. look at all the people around you all the time.”

“i’ve hardly known most of them for as long as ive known you.” he says quietly.

you sat there. and he sat there. neither of you looked away, neither of you said anything else.

the only movement was him glancing down at your lips, then back at your eyes. in that very moment you decided that it was okay to have a little crush on him. to want him like this.

it all came flowing in. you wanted him a lot, actually— this whole time you’ve wanted him. for years. you want him to kiss you and you want to kiss him.

and you want more than that. you want his mouth on other parts of your body. your mouth everywhere on his.

so you go for it.

you take initiative. and you know that ash will reciprocate because you truly do know him better than you think. he does lean into the kiss you two share.

a kiss isn’t the right way to describe it though, it’s almost like ash is drinking water for the first time in his whole life. fervently trying to get more from you, grabbing your jaw with one hand and your thigh with another.

his passion is almost overwhelming, but perhaps he’s thinking the same about you with the way you’re matching his needy energy.

the kiss is vigorous and pushy, both of you needing more, getting hotter, wetter, teeth clashing here and there. perhaps even a noise or two escapes his lips.

your position is a bit awkward and he feels this too, breaking away from the kiss to put his seat all the way back. once he does he practically pulls you on top of him, begging for you.

you connect your mouths once more, feeling the vibration of his small moan against your lips. he lets you continue down his neck so he can catch his breath, his hands roaming all along your backside. this arouses you to your core, feeling the wetness and impatience you have down there.

he grips your ass unashamedly, pulling you down on him to feel the hard tent in his black pants. it makes him shut his eyes, letting out a breathy groan.

he seems to want this so badly, need it almost. so you decide to sink lower, trailing your hands across his hard chest, down the ridges of his abs, and delicately lift up part of his shirt. your fingers gracefully trace his v-line, and he simply can’t take it anymore.

ash takes your hands and guides them to his waistband himself- not caring about coming off as needy or even rude about it.

this was usually attractive. normally you liked men who’d ask for permission to do anything with you or offer to repay you.

you’re sure ash is that type of guy generally but right now he isn’t and somehow.. you find it insatiably hot.

most likely because it proves to you that he needs this, he wants it so bad.

and he tells you that.

“y/n.. just.. fuck,” well, tries to tell you it seems.

you know what he means though, so you don’t waste any more time in tugging down the waistband of his pants and his perfectly tight boxers.

“mm,” he huffs, feeling the air hit his exposed, erect cock.

suddenly you feel too hot— maybe it’s the heat coming out of the ac right behind you or it’s the tension of you with your lips parted on top of ash and his deprived, pink, dripping cock.

you lean down to kiss the tip, still looking at him. his eyebrows are turned upward— looking nearly pathetic and his eyes beg for you. but you watch as he squeezes them shut when you take the base of it in your hand.

he’s acting like he’s never gotten a blowjob or handjob in his life, but it could be due to he fact that he’s an incredibly sensitive guy- in all the ways possible.

or maybe, just maybe, it’s you who’s making him this desperate.

“fuck,” he lets out when you lick a stripe up the shaft, your tongue leaving plenty of saliva behind, so much so that it drips down to his balls. when you come to the top you take the whole thing in your mouth to ash’s surprise, making him buck his hips up.

you take more until you can’t and begin sucking up and down, feeling ash’s hand come to your hair and to the armrest of his seat. he grips both for stability, almost too overwhelmed by his painfully hard cock that’s just bucking it’s way up into your mouth.

a few more strokes from you and he’s already trying to conceal whimpers, his breath and body shuddering.

he brushes your hair out of your face with his hand and makes eye contact with you. you see how absolutely adorable he looks above you, biting his bottom lip just slightly. you go back down and he groans.

“i..” he whines. “i just need to tell you, fuck,”

you keep going, making him fight for the words, but you’re still listening to what he has to say.

“i come quick and like, ahh, a lot..” he pants.

you hum in response, pleased. you give him a reassuring glance, basically letting him know: “it’s okay if you cum all over my face, i don’t mind. i’m actually yearning for it”

you both hadn’t even noticed the glass had gone completely foggy, and ash’s hand was leaving messy prints all over his driver side window.

you also didn’t expect a full whimper and whine leave him lips when he pulled you off his cock by your hair. your hand still working up and down it, knowing he was just about to cum.

and when he did it was spectacular.

you watch it come out of his perfect pink tip and you watch his face, his body, everything. his abdomen practically convulsing. the scene was so, so lewd.

and he wasnt kidding about being a total mess, you believe it even got on the steering wheel.

you wanted nothing more than to keep going, to lap up his cum and overstimulate him but you held back.. perhaps another time.

you truly hope there will be another time— for he didn’t even get to show you what he’ll do for you.

you stroke him through his orgasm, seeing how sleepy he was immediately becoming. it was honestly so cute.

“there’s wipes in the glovebox,” he mutters. the whisper was barely even audible and you weren’t even sure you heard anything, but you reached over and opened the glovebox anyway.

there were wipes and he tried taking them from you, wanting to clean himself up without your assistance- just to be a gentleman.

but you knew he was so happy and so grateful when you offered to do it for him. you took one out and cleaned all around his still twitching cock. you cleaned his thighs and his stomach and your own face and hands.

you took another wipe for the steering wheel and the door and his clothes but those didn’t seem like they were going to get clean unless he actually threw them in the wash.

to your astonishment, ash put his arms around you and hugged you down to his chest after you put the wipes away and pulled up his pants. his kissed your forehead and you noticed the tiniest tear roll down his soft cheek.

you wiped it away and he blinked his eyes open at you, half-lidded. they were full of adoration.

he then kissed you but this time.. it felt like the actual first kiss. earlier it was good but this- it was pure and sweet and slow.

it was genuine.

not that the other ones weren’t genuine but this was different level.

you know some people who refuse to kiss after you’ve given head— them thinking of it being gross to have your lips indirectly contact your own junk but ash didn’t seem to mind at all.

you really liked that.

and you could absolutely tell when he’s not so tired he will repay you by eating you out or possibly even fucking you when the two of you get the chance.

“would you like to go get ice cream?” he asks, looking at you kindly.

༉‧₊˚.

p.s you’re welcome dylan.

[pastriibunz]

WELCOME TO THE KAI DREWNIVERSE!

“MONSTERS, MAYHEM, AND GODS GALORE! I’VE GOT IT ALL! TAKE MY HAND, AND I’LL TAKE YOU ON AN ADVENTURE YOU’LL NEVER FORGET!”

hi there!!! im pastriibunz! you might know me from the ask blog, @beaniibunzz i ran with my friends, chillibeanos and local-soda-can!

you might also know me for writing the Kai in Hatchetfield series (KIHF Masterpost), an OC insert fanfic series written like a script for the Hatchetfield Saga!

(PS I have an atabook! Leave me some messages!)

but more on that later, i wanna talk about ME >:]

Basic Info About Me:

☆ i think am aroace! 

☆ i'm trying out she/they pronouns!

☆ i have ADD! My friends keep saying i have undiagnosed autism-

☆ i do theater and i was in voice/singing lessons!

☆ i will be Kai Drew’s VA in TKWDLM: Voiced, as well as any other projects she needs a voice in!

☆ my best friends are @chillibeanos, @local-soda-can, and @evnt777!

☆ i like to draw and write!

And that’s me! i was kinda scrambling for things to add, so forgive me if it’s boring. But, i just wanted to get through it so i could get to the fun part. now onto my blog!! :D

i have a lot to say about this silly little blog!!!

note: my ask box is always open! fill it up with whatever your heart desires!

Things To Note:

★ I was grounded for a month, I’m back, but not without restrictions. I have 3 hours of screen time on weekdays, and 5 hours on weekends. This is subject to change.

★ Mutuals, please use the tag ‘#pastrii don’t look’ for posts with: anything very overtly sexual that isn’t written in a comedic tone. I am a sex repulsed asexual, and that type of content is very icky for me. :< [contents subject to change]

Content You Should Expect From Me:

★ my art, both silly doodles and full pieces!

★ fanfics/drabbles, mostly angst

★ my brain dumpy thoughts i thought were funny

★ oc insert content

notice how that last bullet point is bolded and italicized?

yeah that’s cause it’s super important

practically all the content on this blog will be about my OC: KAI DREW!

now, who is Kai Drew?

and why the hell is she in a shit ton of random fandoms?

well, Kai Drew is the little goober who’s managed to weasel her way into my brain, and 5 years later, she’s STILL. HERE.

she’s also on tumblr as @shxwstxpper!

she has her own silly little lore (to summarize: adoption, accidental mass murder, is god, and then shes inserted into various fandoms im into) that is super long and silly!!! maybe one day ill write about it. who knows!

so expect lots (if not all) of my content to surround around Kai!

speaking of my content…

Important Tags:

⛤ #kai drew 

⛤ #tkwdlm

⛤ #the kai who didn’t like musicals

⛤ #black kaiday

⛤ #bk

⛤ #npmk

⛤ #nerdy prudes must kai

⛤ #the kai drew and bean power hour

⛤ #kai drew and bean power hour

⛤ #kai drewniverse

⛤ #kai in hatchetfield

Kai Drewniverse Related Fandoms:

✰ Bendy And The Ink Machine

✰ Doki Doki Literature Club

✰ Toilet Bound Hanako Kun

✰ Clover 2020

✰ My Hero Academia

✰ South Park

✰ Welcome Home

✰ The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals

✰ Peggy Suave

✰ The Kai Drew And Bean Power Hour!

Non Kai Drewniverse Fandoms:

⛥ Ride The Cyclone

⛥ Chad Chad (Chadlings)

⛥ Danny Gonzalez (Greg)

⛥ Psych

⛥ Drew Gooden (Little Stinkers)

⛥ Kurtis Conner (Kurtistown)

⛥ Jarvis Johnson (Unnamed Fanbase)

Important Links:

✩ TKWDLM Masterpost!

✩ Nightmare Kai-me Masterpost!

✩ Blog Boundaries: Do’s and Don’ts!

and that’s all for now! be sure to stick around to see where Kai’s silly little adventures take her next!

bye bye! :]

[fang-and-feather]

Chasing Hope

Ikemen Vampire - Jean x OC

This is an alternative version of chapter 10's premium story, with a very old version of Amy, that I just thought fitting for this

Written for the Love Booth Challenge by @queengiuliettafirstlady, for Jean's prompts: Monster and "I am not worthy of love."

I had plans to write this for a long time but I finally thought these prompts were perfect for it

Words: 1,742

Summary: Jean is sure Amy was to lose all hope she had in him after witnessing he lose control. He didn't expect she had her own secrets to share and her own shadows that even her didn't seem to fully understand, or for him to realize he'd grown more attached to her than he'd though. But how could he? A monster like him didn't deserve her love.

Tags: Probably mutual pining (but they hadn't even fully realized their feelings yet); angsty due to it being during-canon Jean; but also a bit comforting, so maybe a somewhat bittersweet fic; Jean's POV

This was somewhat inspired by this song that I found fitting for them and for this

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Link

Amy was tense and fidgeting.

Jean didn’t blame her, though. Who would be comfortable stuck in a room with a monster like him? After what he almost did? After everything she saw?

He should be used to that. It was just a matter of time before she realized who he truly was.

Then why did it hurt? Was it because Amy had showered him with praise, support, and hope that he almost started believing her? Believing he was not a monster? Believing he deserved salvation? Redemption?

If so, that had been foolish of him. Amy acted like she could love a monster, but a monster didn’t deserve love. He didn’t deserve her unconditional kindness.

“Do you think Saar will be okay?” She asked, voice trembling.

When he didn’t immediately answer, her gaze fell on him, only to be diverted quickly. And of course she did. How could she stand such an ugly visage as he was at the moment?

She had often called him beautiful. This was the proof she was wrong. The sight that would change her mind.

“I’m bothering you, aren’t I?” She looked down at her blood-covered hands and shirt. “Sorry. I’ll see what I can do about the blood right away.”

She turned to leave, but Jean caught himself stopping her.

‘No. It’s… not that. You are not bothering me.”

“Then what is it?” She asked curiously. Worriedly.

She was still concerned about him, and Jean couldn’t stand it anymore. Not without…

“...I’m sorry for exposing you to this ugly face. And I’m sorry… for putting you through something so scary.”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed, and, to Jean’s surprise, Amy burst out into laughter, although she tried to immediately hold it back.

“Oh, Jean.” She took a deep breath, then her eyes focused on him again. “Why are you apologizing?” Her voice and gaze were soft, with a hint of amusement to them still. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“If you hadn’t stopped me, I would have killed that nobleman, without a doubt.” And she was nervous a moment before. Why was she laughing now, as if it were nothing? “I had no control over my own urges. Not in that moment. I knew you were afraid. I knew I was scaring everyone around me. But… I couldn’t stop myself.” Amy’s gaze dropped again, and she frowned. Was she only now coming to realize what really happened? The monster he was underneath whatever hopeful facade she gazed at him with until now? As she should. As was best for her. “Mademoiselle. You should go home without me.”

“Why?”

“Surely you must hate being in a room with a man like me now…”

But Amy looked up at him again, with determination, and shook her head.

“I’m not going anywhere. I hate being here, but not because of you. I hate being trapped in an unknown place, but you being here brings me comfort. So please… let me stay with you.”

Although he had been conscious of her own gaze, it was the first time Jean fully looked back, astonished. He had misunderstood what had made her so nervous before. And how could she find comfort in someone like him?

She was too radiant, and Jean feared getting caught in her light any further. Into her hopefulness. Then she would go home and take it all away.

But he also feared letting go of that light. Of the only being who looked at him as he truly was and stood her ground. Accepted him.

Jean feared letting her make him forget the monster he was, only for her to get caught in a situation similar to the one they just faced, where she would regret it.

He feared losing her.

A soft, damp, slightly chilly hand touched his cheek, startling him back to reality. Bringing his attention back to this woman, who never ceased to surprise him. She who looked at him with so much care.

“I was surprised there, but there is no way I’d ever be afraid of you, Jean. Besides…” Her gaze dropped again, her expression clouding and her hand still on his cheek trembled, her other hand closing into a tight fist. “...a part of me was tempted to let you.” Her voice came out in a trembling whisper, almost drowned out by the rain outside. “And if the police hadn’t arrived, I would have beaten him up. Maybe I have more control, but I am not always as pure as you think I am. Not as I want to believe. But…” At this, she looked up, gentle determination back to her face. “...it’s not enough to condemn us. It does not make us monsters. And…” Her thumb traced the edge of his scar. The unexpected gesture and her sweet smile making him shudder and tempting him to turn away. To run away. But he stood his ground and held her gaze. “Anyone who thinks to call this ugly is so incredibly stupid. They’re letting this tiny scar come between them and the chance to find out how beautiful you truly are.”

“...What are you saying?” And why?

Instead of answering, she stepped back and removed the glove from her right hand.

Jean had noticed but never thought much about the fact that he’d never seen her without it, even when he’d seen her without the left one. Or why her right glove covered her fingers and the left one didn’t.

But as she turned her palm up, he realized why. A burn scar marked a good part of it. And as he stared, she unbuttoned her cuff and pulled the sleeve a little up, revealing the marks snaked around her arm.

“I was in an accident when I was a child.” Amy explained, shrugging. “It doesn’t look as bad now. But this doesn’t matter. Even without this… I told you how beautiful you are before, and that hasn’t changed. Not because we match, or because we are more similar than we seem, but because I see who you truly are beyond that. And you are still so incredibly beautiful to me. Inside and out.”

This was another impulse he couldn’t control, as, with a hand behind her head, Jean gently pulled her to him.

“Jean? What is it?” Amy asked, but not in a tone of complaint.

He didn’t know. What had gotten over him? Why was his heart beating so fast?

But Jean hesitated to let go, as much as he hesitated to touch her further. But he couldn’t force himself to let go and apologize, as he intended, and instead pushed himself to wrap his arm around her back, afraid of scaring her, of making her feel trapped, of whatever it was that prompted him to initiate such contact in the first place.

He could feel her heart beating as fast as his, and it was oddly comforting that it reflected his own.

Amy started to pull back, but Jean held her tighter but still carefully, twining his fingers in her hair. He felt oddly like she would disappear if he let go, but she would break if he held her too tight.

“What is the matter?” She asked, again with a hint of amusement in her voice.

“I don’t know.”

“That doesn’t help.” She laughed.

“I know...” Even he didn’t understand his actions. His feelings. Everything felt so foreign and still oddly human, for someone who hadn’t been human in a long time.

“Jean?” she called when he stayed silent a little too long.

“... I know, but I don’t know. I just… I don’t want to… let you go yet.” He turned to look better at her, and his lips brushed her ear. He couldn’t see her face properly, but she had relaxed in his embrace, her heart beating even faster. “Can we stay like this just a little longer, Amy?”

Her whole body trembled, but he felt her nod, and that only made him feel warmer. Why was he so satisfied that she agreed? What was this strange feeling?

Amy wrapped her arms around him too, and they stood there, in silence for a moment. Then he heard Amy’s sweet voice again in a comforting whisper. She was singing, which wasn’t weird of her, if it didn’t sound like she was singing straight at him, and if he didn’t understand the song, even when she was clearly singing in a language he knew nothing of.

The song was the same as her words: of light and hope, of letting go of the hurts of the past and looking forward to tomorrow. Or was it what he wanted to believe? His feelings reflected in a melody he truly didn’t understand? But it sounded like she was singing for the both of them, for something she was remembering but didn’t tell him.

“A part of me was tempted to let you.” “I’m not as pure as you think I am. Not as I want to believe.” She had said all that, looking so close to crying and so afraid of something he couldn’t see.

What kind of accident hurt her in such a way? What did she find so similar in them beyond that? What shadows were the reason behind these words? And how could she still be so radiant, then?

Because, to him, she was still so pure and beautiful.

Jean closed his eyes and lost track of how long they stayed there together until her voice started faltering and finally died out, her body going limp in his embrace, exhausted, and Jean gently picked her up, although he had no idea what to do. He couldn’t put her to bed with her clothes in such a state.

All she had done. The words she had spoken. If he didn’t know better, he would say she loved him. And that he felt the same.

“I am not worthy of love.” He whispered to himself in a vain attempt to curb these lasting rays of hope.

Amy was just too giving, too trusting, and, at this moment, too emotional. He was reading too much in her kind nature.

But a tiny piece of him stubbornly refused to let go of her light. It might not be love, but her words were true, and he wanted to believe he could leave these shadows behind for once and move on. If just this once, until she had to go back to her time.

Tag List: @tele86, @nightghoul381, @natimiles, @bicayaya, @eventinelysplayground, @queengiuliettafirstlady

If you want to be tagged/untagged on future writings, you can reply to this post or send me a message

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

[ten-cent-sleuth]

2023-12-06 EDIT: This event has flopped and been cancelled. Kindly ignore my having tried and failed to make this happen. I am embarrassed, humiliated, mortified, etc. etc. Lol, happy holidays! Can’t wait to see what fics y’all have in store for us in 2024. <3

Hey, Henry Cavill fans!

Are you interested in filling a prompt for someone while someone else fills a prompt for you? Do you want to participate in a Secret Santa with your Tumblr mutuals—or maybe find some new ones?

Then consider joining the first ever Cavillry Secret Santa! You can sign up via this GForm, and once you’ve done so, I’ll add you to the GSheet for prompts. The idea is you input three gift requests, and your Secret Santa will write for one (or more) of them. More information available on the Form!

If you are hesitant to join, feel free to peek at the prompts here. Anybody can view the spreadsheet, but you can only edit it once you’ve signed up and agreed to the rules.

Should this get big and we decide to do this again next year, I’ll probably make a separate blog for the event. But since this may very well flop, I’ll run everything from my personal Tumblr for now. So send in your doubts and uncertainties to my askbox! If you want me to answer privately, ask off anon and let me know that you don’t want me to post it publicly. :)

The prompts sheet will close at midnight UTC on 5 November 2023, so sign up asap! (You don’t have to have your prompts ready right away—just sign up first if you’re interested! You can always come back to the prompts sheet and edit your requests, and if you change your mind about joining at all after signing up, you can leave your prompts row blank.) I’m sorry for making this so last-minute guys hrjfbsjfh. If you would be willing to be a pinch hitter but don’t want to commit to the full event, you can sign up on the Form as well. And if you, participant or not, would like to be tagged with event updates, just let me know in the comments!

Please signal boost! Reblog this even if you’re not going to join… Share the link to this post and/or to the sign-up Form with your friends… The more participants, the more I can shuffle who’s whose Secret Santa, the more fun this’ll be!

Note: You don’t have to be “big” in the Henry Cavill fandom to participate. Heck, the moderator of this event (yours truly) has literally only ever published ONE Henry Cavill fic before and only has a few Tumblr followers. This is for the well known writers with long masterlists AND for the small blogs with (next to) no experience AND for everyone in between! <3

[For revisiting ease: link to sign up … link to view the prompts]