#tights and keds

[platanarium]

[alyssasoutfitdiary]

2023 03 26 Sunday

Not exactly a "warm" day, but with bright sunshine, a beautiful day for sure. My boyfriend and I are going on a roadtrip, almost two hours, to see an indoor over the top Easter display. We were there at Christmastime to see that display, and they also do one for Easter.

We decided to dress up for this date. There is a Mexican restaurant, that I've never been to, that my boyfriend says is quite good. He has been there several times in the past, before we met. We'll be doing a few other things around the town, too. We'll make up the itinerary as we go along, but there is a small mall where we'll likely end up, as well, since it is also decorated for Easter.

I feel like dressing romantically, since this date is rather leisurely, so I'll be wearing red and black. I haven't worn my polka dot nylons in forever, it seems, so I'll wear those today. I also feel like wearing one of my "crazy" high heels for part of the date, too (including dinner). These are 6.5 inches with a 2 inch platform.

My outfit details:

Weather: Mid 40s to mid 50s, sunny ☀️

Hair down

Red sweater: Boscov's

Black skirt: Express

Black polka dot nylons: Gofypel

Black patent heels: Ochenta

Black canvas fashion sneakers (Keds): DSW

Black leather braided belt: Falari

Black tassel dangle earrings: Me&Hz

Black faux pearl necklace: Kosmos-Li

Red faux pearl bracelet: BA Unique Fashion

Red watch: Target @targetstyle

Black purse: Target @targetstyle

Red coat: Target @targetstyle

[fairybin]

[repost] soobin audio

warnings: nsfw audio!!

pov: backshots with dom soobin

extra: this isn’t ai, stop asking if it is

trans: call me master, you little wh*re. you're not gonna address me properly? i bet if i f**k your mouth, you'd call me master right? little wh*re, look at how your tight p*ssy swallows my d!ck up. from now on, you're only getting f**ked by me, understand?

do not reupload or repost

[alwaysmicado]

we shouldn’t

2.9k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | one-shot

Warnings: 18+, no outbreak AU, alcohol, smut (but nothing too graphic), smooching, reader being a menace, fluff & the tiniest bit of angst Summary: Joel holds your hand after a night out. It makes you feel things you don’t want to feel. A/N: This little one-shot was very emotional for me to write, and I hope it’ll make you feel something, too. Can be read alone or as a prequel to part 1 within the fwb!Joel AU. Enjoy and let me know what you think! I love talking to you about these two! 🖤 series masterlist

“If I don’t catch you before the light, I’ll do that little dance you like so much.”

“Naked?” you ask with wide eyes. 

He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “Yeah, na–”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’re running—clumsily, but fueled by an eagerness that outshines the haze of your drunkenness.

“–ked.”

– – –

The neon lights of the city blur into a kaleidoscope as Joel and you stroll down the crowded streets, the remnants of laughter and clinking glasses still echoing in your ears from the bar you just left. It’s a beautiful night—alive with a buzz, a mix of the city’s energy and the warmth that comes from a few too many drinks.

You’re giggling uncontrollably at something Joel said, your hands clasped over your belly as your sides hurt from laughing. You don’t even remember what he said that was so funny, but that doesn’t matter.

You’re having fun—as always when you’re with him.

Joel glances over at you with a lopsided grin, his eyes slightly glazed but still sparkling with mischief.

“You’re such a lightweight, darlin’,” he says, his words laced with genuine amusement. He chuckles as you continue to giggle, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “No more Long Island Iced Teas for you.”

You playfully roll your eyes, trying to catch your breath, and delicately wiping away the happy tears spilling over.

“Oh, come on,” you quip, turning to him with an infectious grin. “Could a lightweight do this?”

Determined to prove him wrong, you theatrically hold out your arms and set one foot gracefully in front of the other, your pretend sobriety test turning into a whimsical dance along an invisible line on the floor.

“See?” you say excitedly—and perhaps a tad too loudly—before your own enthusiasm sends you stumbling over your own feet. Lucky for you, Joel’s reflexes kick in, and he effortlessly catches you before you can faceplant and hurt yourself.

“Easy there, baby,” he teases with a grin, his strong arms steadying you before pulling you into a tight embrace. “You’re just having too much fun tonight, huh?”

“S’not fair,” you slur against his chest, giggles bubbling up from deep inside you. “The world is spinning.”

Joel looks at you, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “That’s not–” he begins but stops himself, chuckling. “Well, actually, yes, you’re right. The world is spinning, baby.” He presses a soft kiss against your temple. “I got you though.”

Giggles subside into a contented sigh as you rest against Joel’s broad chest, the fleeting touch of his fingers brushing against your back.

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking in his warmth and his scent. “Mmm, you smell nice. How do you always smell so nice?” 

Lifting your head, you gaze into his eyes with honest bewilderment and curiosity, your brow furrowed, as if this is the most perplexing mystery that needs unraveling.

“Reminds me of when we met. My clothes smelled like you when I got home that night.”

Joel’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at you with a genuine sense of adoration, his heart warmed by the sincerity and carefree spirit that your drunken honesty radiates.

He’s obviously not going to tell you that he’s made sure to only ever use the aftershave you complimented him on the first night you spent together, but he’s secretly delighting in the fact that you still like it.

“Well, aren’t you sweet, darlin’,” he coos, an amused smile gracing his lips. “You were such a brat not even twenty minutes ago and now look at you. Tame as a little kitten.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” You bite your lip and put your hands on his chest, your pupils so dilated your eyes are black.

You can still feel his fingers inside you.

Joel runs his hands up and down your back, a sensation that makes your knees weak. He bores his eyes into you and raises an eyebrow.

“I’m talking about you acting like a whore in that bar just so I’d make you come on my fingers.” His hands wander down to your ass, groping you, pulling you closer against his body. “You knew I’d fuck you when we got to your place, but you just couldn’t wait, huh?”

“Hmm, you love it,” you chuckle, pressing a soft kiss on his warm lips. “Don’t act like you’re not a total perv yourself. ‘Cause, you know, you are, and that’s why you just fingered me in a crowded bar. And that’s why you almost came in your pants. And that’s also why we get along so well.”

Joel grins at you, savoring the lingering sensation of your lips on his. “Touché, you little smartass.”

Your eyes drop to his mustache, perched proudly on his top lip. He’s shaved off the rest of his facial hair, and tonight’s the first time you’ve seen him like this. It suits him.

“You see something you like, baby?”

“I love your mustache. It’ so fucking hot,” you murmur, mesmerized, gently touching the little hairs above Joel’s lip with your fingertips. “Makes you look like an ‘80s pornstar.”

“You’re into that?” he chuckles, noting the particular fixation your inebriated brain has chosen this time—last time, it was the curve of his nose. You’re adorable.

“Fuck yeah. The only thing missing are assless chaps and a tight mesh shirt.” You wrap your arms around him and look into his beautiful brown eyes.

“Mmm, you never cease to surprise me, darlin’,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear before nibbling on your earlobe. “I didn’t realize you were such a fan of my ass.”

You giggle and squeeze his cheeks to make a point, pulling away a bit to lock your lidded eyes on his. “Oh, you have no idea. I’ll tie you to your bed next time and show you if you want. Fair warning, though, I won’t be gentle.”

Joel’s eyes widen, his erection straining against the harsh fabric of his jeans.

“Careful, darlin’,” he growls into your ear, “if you can’t behave yourself, I’ll have to put you in your place. And I promise you, I won’t be gentle either.”

You can’t suppress the little moan that escapes your lips as Joel’s words go straight to your pussy. His scent, his deep voice, his broad body against yours, his dark eyes—it all has you melting in his arms, craving his touch. Badly.

“Can we go, please?” you plead, your tone carrying the unmistakable hint of neediness Joel loves to hear so much.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” he murmurs, his hands finding your waist, pulling you against his groin with a possessive grip.

You playfully roll your eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, yeah, and I’m a bad, bad girl that needs to be punished—yada yada yada. Can we go now? Please?”

You pull away from his embrace with a cheeky smile and start tugging on his arm, urging him to move. Joel snorts at your impatience, thoroughly entertained by the frustrated little noises you make when he doesn’t budge.

One eyebrow raised and hands on your hips, you glare at him defiantly. You’re swaying a little now that he’s not holding you anymore.

“I’ll fucking run home and get myself off if you don’t get your ass in gear right now.”

“You still haven’t grasped the concept of asking nicely, huh? And after all this time I’ve tried to teach you,” he chuckles, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood and can’t wait to fill up that pretty little pussy of yours.”

He tilts your chin up with his thumb and index finger to search your eyes. To his satisfaction, he finds pure hunger in them. Your brain has completely shut off any and all functions except for imagining Joel taking you roughly in your bed. Or on your sofa. Or on the floor.

“Tell you what, you brat. You get a ten-second head start, and if I catch you before you reach that traffic light over there, you’re not allowed to touch me once you’re naked.” 

“And if you don’t catch me?”

Joel needs to hold back his laugh at the ridiculous idea that you’d be faster than him. 

“If I don’t catch you before the light, I’ll do that little dance you like so much.”

“Naked?” you ask with wide eyes. 

He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “Yeah, na–”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’re running—clumsily, but fueled by a determination that outshines the haze of your drunkenness.

“–ked.”

The night air that envelops you is alive with laughter and the distant hum of the city as you stumble towards the traffic light, your unsteady steps dictated by the alcohol coursing through your veins. Your brain can’t decide between giggling and breathing, so you’re left with a side stitch and gasping for air after a few short seconds.

At least you had enough foresight to choose comfort over sexiness when you put on your sneakers tonight instead of your heels.

Joel’s eyes track you, captivated by the rhythmic sway of your legs beneath the hem of the short dress you’re wearing. Oh, how he can’t wait to feel your naked skin pressed against his. You’re always so soft, so warm, so receptive to his touch…

He snaps out of it, realizing the very real potential for a clumsy misstep, and joins the chase. His steps are more purposeful, not wanting you to trip and hurt yourself, especially not on his watch.

A few meters shy of the traffic light, he catches up, arms wrapping around you from behind. You squeal in surprise, a mixture of laughter and exhilaration bubbling up from deep inside you. Joel joins in, his laughter harmonizing with yours, as he triumphantly murmurs, “Got you” in your ear.

He sets you down gently and pulls you close as your heart is still racing, and presses his lips on yours in a deep, lingering kiss.

“Not fair,” you mumble against his lips with a pout. “And I don’t wanna live in a world where you don’t dance for me.”

Joel sighs deeply, succumbing to the irresistible charm of your big puppy eyes.

“How about this, baby. You’re good and do what I say without talking back, and I’ll dance for you until you’re dizzy. Hm?”

“Okay, sounds fair,” you murmur, wanting nothing more than to get home quickly and rip his clothes off. Riling him up in the bar and coming all over his fingers was nice, but you’ve had far from enough.

“Good girl.”

As the traffic light shifts to green, Joel’s hand instinctively finds yours, not wanting to let you stumble across the street without him holding you. You don’t think too much about it, assuming he’ll let go once you’re on the other side.

Surprisingly, though, his grip persists, and he intertwines his fingers with yours.

It’s a gesture so simple, yet it simultaneously sobers you up and sends a ripple through the carefully constructed walls you’ve built around your emotions. Confusion colors your eyes as you steal a glance at him, and he meets your eyes with a warmth that makes your heart skip a beat.

You don’t like it.

This isn’t the casual arm around the shoulder or the hand on your hip. This feels like…more. Like something you’d only do in a relationship. Joel’s touch is warm and electric, and an unsettling realization dawns—the casual arrangement you’ve shared with him suddenly seems more complicated.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

“What are you doing?” you ask, feigning nonchalance, although your heart is doing somersaults.

“What do you mean?” Joel smirks, giving your hand a playful squeeze. “Just trying to keep you from stumbling into the bushes, baby. I’m a gentleman, you know.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, but the butterflies in your stomach tell a different story. The truth is, you’ve been here before—caught in the crossroads of friendship and something more. It’s a delicate balance, and one you don’t want to upset.

Joel’s the best thing that has happened to you in a long time, and you don’t want to lose what you have. But you also care for him enough that you’d let him go if your arrangement didn’t make him happy anymore.

As you finally reach your apartment building, a nervous flutter sets your heart pounding in your chest. You clear your throat and subtly allow your fingers to slip away from Joel’s, feigning the need for both hands as you rummage through your purse in search of your key.

You follow Joel inside, deliberately averting your gaze, your eyes fixed on the glowing buttons as you summon the elevator. As you step inside the confined space, a wave of memories floods your mind, recalling the last time you’ve given in to your desires when the brief elevator ride felt too long to resist.

Joel knelt in front of you, skillfully drawing an orgasm out of you with his tongue while your fingers were tangled in his dark curls. Once he had his fill, he proceeded to throw you over his shoulder and fuck you in front of your living room mirror. You’ll never forget how he forced you to look at yourself with his hand wrapped around your neck.

You’re abruptly pulled back to the present as you feel Joel’s hand finding yours once again, trying to reassure you that he’s here if you need him. You look at him with a conflicted expression, torn between appreciating his caring gesture and the fear of disappointing him.

As you shuffle to your apartment door, Joel finally breaks the silence, his voice low and soothing, “Are you alright, darlin’? Do you feel sick?” His eyes search your face, concern evident in his furrowed brow.

“Nah, just a bit tipsy,” you reply automatically, your tone light as you lean against the wall. 

However, when he starts tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, you’re unable to suppress the growing unease any longer. Tightness settles in your chest, accompanied by a fluttering sensation that dances beneath your ribcage.

“It’s just…I, uh,” you murmur, “I didn’t expect you to hold my hand is all.”

“Oh.” Joel’s gaze softens, and he releases your hand, the connection severed. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, darlin’. I should’ve asked if you were okay with it, I’m sorry.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, no, it’s not that I didn’t like it. It’s just...it felt–” you cut yourself off and sigh deeply, turning around to open your apartment door. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Joel nods, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I understand, darlin’. Thank you for telling me.”

“I’m sorry,” you switch on the light in your living room and throw your purse onto your sofa. “I know it’s weird, but I really…we–we shouldn’t and I…I can’t–”

“Darlin’, hey,” he steps inside and closes the door behind him. “There’s no need for you to apologize, or explain for that matter.”

You turn around and take him in for a moment. His warm eyes, his soft smile, the cute little movements his hand makes when he’s nervous—he’s just so…sweet. You’re not used to a guy being so considerate of your boundaries, and it’s incredibly hard for you to believe that he actually means it and won’t use them against you once he’s tired of you.

You know it’ll happen at some point, but you’re okay with that. This isn’t meant to last.

“Do you, uh, still wanna stay for a nightcap?” you ask him with a hopeful smile. 

“Of course I do, darlin’,” he says, tilting his head and looking at you curiously.

You open your arms, silently inviting him to draw you into a comforting embrace. You’re relieved when his response is immediate and eager.

“We’re on the same page, right?” he asks, a genuine smile on his lips as his dark eyes search yours. “We have fun, and I like spending time with you, but I want you to feel comfortable, too. If this,” he gestures between the two of you, “ever becomes more than you’re comfortable with, we talk about it. No pressure, no expectations. Just us, enjoying each other’s company.”

He pulls back slightly to gauge your reaction, his hand still gently resting on your waist. 

“Sounds perfect, Joel,” you coo in response, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Now, would you please shut up and kiss me already.”

“Alright, alright, you brat,” Joel chuckles and cups your cheek with his warm hand, before leaning in and sealing the agreement with a lingering kiss to your lips.

“Mmm, I’m so happy I met you, darlin’,” he whispers. “You’re something else, you know?”

You look into his eyes, and there’s a sincerity in them that catches you off guard. You know you shouldn’t have sex with him right now, you know you should tell him to leave. 

And yet, as soon as you feel his lips on yours again, more fervently this time, his hands exploring the contours of your back, drawing you close, the rational part of your mind fades away.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he breathes out before switching to kissing down your neck, the sensation of his soft lips on your sensitive skin making you whimper.

“I want you, Joel. I want you.”

– – –

Thanks for reading, guys!! 🤍

part 1 || series masterlist || main masterlist

tagging: @buckyispunk @koshkaj-blog @paleidiot @pattwtf @runningmom94 @tuquoquebrute @witchofthedeepwoods let me know if you want to be added!

[avrmee]

Could you do some billie eilish x female reader where Billie gets jealous seeing reader getting hit on at a party or at one of her shows or something. (You can make it smut or not it’s up to you but pls make it steamy 👏🏻) thankyouuu

Jealousy looks good on you - Billie Eilish

Summary: at one Billie's after parties she sees a man flirt with you

Warning: smut, some guy being a creep, Oral, swearing

NOT PROOFREAD

It was very early in the morning at one of your girlfriends after parties. The music was loud, there was alcohol it was overall a fun party.

You however weren't really a party person. You didn't mind it but you weren't fond of it. But since it was a special occasion you decided why not.

Billie was around here somewhere talking to some of her friends and just catching up.

You were at the bar sipping on your drink while scrolling on your phone when all of a sudden a guy sits next to you.

You didn't think much of it until you felt him stare at you for to long. You were getting uncomfortable and you couldn't see Billie anywhere.

You stayed quiet for a little longer hoping he would get the hint but he still stared and this time he cleared out his throat.

"Can I help you?" you asked looking up from your phone. "Well I do have a small problem I need help with. Maybe you can help" He said. His breath stinked from the alcohol.

"I'm sure it is small" you muttered under your breath. "What did you say?" he asked as he moved closer to you.

"Nothing I'm sorry, If it's a small problem maybe you can ask someone to actually wants to help you" You said and moved away to sit somewhere else.

"What? You got a boyfriend?" He asked a little salty.

You looked around and your eyes finally landed on Billie. She looked heavily pissed off as she walked towards you two.

"No she doesn't. She's got a girlfriend though. She gave tiu the hint to fuck off so please do." Billie said as soon as she was by your side. She slid her arm around your waist and pulled you a bit closer.

It instantly made you feel safer in the presence of this man. You stayed silent the whole time.

Eventually the guy walked away to go bother someone else making you sigh in relief.

Billie turned you around in her arms and held you tight by your waist making you slide your arms around her neck.

"C'mon we're leaving" Billie said and grabbed your hand guiding you to her car. The car ride to the house was mostly silent with Billie's hand on your thigh.

When you arrived at your shared home, Billie was quick to push you up against the wall, kissing you feverishly.

Your tongues moving in sync and fighting for dominance. Billie slid her hands up and down your thighs burning your skin with her touch.

Billie's hand hooked under your thigh and muttered a quick "up" against your mouth. You obeyed and hoisted yourself into her hands.

She carried you up the stairs to your bedroom, laying you gently down on the bed. She started kissing your neck , leaving a trail of hickeys.

Billie's hands went under your shirt, cupping your breasts. Her mouth leaving more kisses on your throat before she removed your shirt in one swift motion.

She kissed along your breasts making you shiver at the sensation. It felt like heaven. Billie took off your bra and instantly took one of your nipples into her mouth, her other hand messaging your other breast.

"Fuck" you moaned and arched you back as billie started kissing down you stomach. Her hands hooked against the fabric and silently asked for permission to take it off.

You nodded your head and bit your lip. Billie took off your skirt and panties, leaving you completely bare in front of her.

Billie wasted no time in kissing your thighs. Your thighs was one of her favorite parts about you. She kissed along the inside of your thigh, holding intense eye contact.

"Please Billie" you moaned wanting to feel her mouth where you needed her most.

You let out a moan of relief when she finally li ked a stripe up your folds. Bill hummed at the taste.

She sucked on your clit, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. The pleasure overwhelming your senses.

Your hands gripped against her hair as she ate you out like a starved woman.

Billie started noticing your thighs twitching. "Come for me princess" Billie hummed before delving right in again.

You closed your eyes tightly feeling your climax building up. Your release finally came crashing down.

"Fuck billie, oh god"

Billie didn't stop until she was sure you rode out your climax.

She crawled up to you and kissed you on the forehead.

"Wait here" She said and got off the bed. You heard the tap be turned off and then turned off.

Billie came back from the bathroom and cleaned you off. Making sure not to be too rough since you were sensitive right now.

After cleaning you up she got one of her t-shirts and out of her closet and put it on you along with a fresh pair of panties.

Billie changed into something comfortable too and climbed into to bed next to you. She held you around your waist with your back pressed up against her.

"You know, jealousy looks good on you" You said after a moment of silence.

"Yeah?" Billie said with a smirk and kissed your cheek pulling you closer.

"Mhm" you murmured tiredly.

Billie just laughed and held you close.

"I love you, princess" She said but she didn't get an answer. She just smiled knowing you were out cold.

Hiiii I hope this is okay since it's my first time writing smut.

Sorry it took long it's just university is not giving me any breaks😭

Hope you like it and HAVE A NICE DAYYYY 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

[gymbunnycandiehart]

10 Don’ts for any Gym Bunny

1) Don’t be a sissy in the gym–I get it: Some gym bunnies want to be sissies and be humiliated or feminized by men or women.  If that’s your thing, more to you.  But don’t be a sissy in the gym.  Just because you’re a guy dressed like a girl doesn’t mean you have to be a powder puff.

2) Don’t let the gym rats steal your joy–Nobody should steal your joy.  They might assault your happiness, but nobody can take the joy that belongs to you.  Those intolerant beastly men (gym rats) are just upset because you’re hotter than their girlfriend.

3) Don’t overpad your sports bra–I can see why you would want to look stacked, but there’s no logical reason to give yourself extra padding.  Nobody wants to see your pads falling out all over the place. 

4) Don’t be a harry Mary in beast mode–On the flip side of being a sissy, neither do you want to be a clumpy beast of a guy.  It just doesn’t work.  Yes, work out hard and tough, but don’t try to compensate for the lack of manliness you are exhibiting in your cute workout clothes.

5) Don’t be a tease without intent–It’s a lot of fun to be a tease, to flirt, or pose seductively with weights in hand.  But if you’re not trying to garner the sexual attention of some guy or girl, don’t do it.  Save it for the shower (lol-just kidding).

6) Don’t wear tennis shoes twice in two days–Keep your outfits mixed up.  If you are a true gym bunny, you have at least six pairs of adorable sneakers.  Mix it up one day to the next and keep yourself looking fresh and beautiful from head to toe!

7) Don’t wear Keds to lift weights–Yeah, they’re cute with rompers and cutoff shorts, but they have no place in the squat rack…or even in the zumba class.  They’re not made for that.  Save them for the mall or for the boardwalk.

8) Don’t fret over your revealing clothing–If you’ve got a good tuck going on (see #10), then there is no reason why you can’t be as bare as permissible.  You don’t want to be a slouch and you need not worry over what others think.  If you’ve got it, flaunt it…not for others, but for your developing personality.

9) Don’t mismatch your tops and bottoms–If I have to explain this one, then you need to take up golf from the seniors’ tees.

10) Don’t forget to tuck yourself tightly–You’ll get used to it.  Nothing ruins a sleek womanly look than some unsightly bulge in tight-fitted hot shorts.  You’re better than that.

This was an OLD OLD post from way back when, but what a fun one! Have fun in the gym, girlies.

Love ya much

CandieHart

[gatheringbones]

[“Terry’s hair was long & thick, bleached blond, perhaps because she wanted to be a princess in a fairy tale instead of real. We wrote letters to one another, passionately declaring our eternal love, which the technicians stole. One night when she was sitting on my bed in the dorm after lights out, as I brushed her hair, they threw on the lights in a frenzy of disgust & separated us for being lesbians. We were too drugged and too frightened to do more than hold hands. The head nurse was a lesbian, who called Terry’s mother, who came the next day to take her home to her psychiatrist father, to whom she had not spoken in over four years. I was sent to the old women’s ward for punishment, where my job was to feed the bed-bound ladies, some of them in restraints all the time. The stench of urine & untreated cancer was overwhelming. I wrote long, intense letters to Terry, which I could not send, hiding them under my green plastic mattress. Terry’s stars are deep burgundy, & I bleed into the other colors when I mourn that we never made love.

Then Maggie was dragged onto our ward, in hot pink tights & purple smock, her teeth glittering with mischief Far from being depressed by the surroundings, she sang bawdy songs to the old ladies she fed, opening our misery with laughter. She was from a wealthy Marin family who sent her there to straighten her up & scare her into agreeing to marry the man they wanted to sell her off to, although they wouldn’t say it like that (she did). Somehow her wedding veil was among her belongings. She liked to wear it to the vast dining barrack because it annoyed the nurses so much. It was very beautiful, expensive lace which she trailed behind her like indifference. One day Maggie & I decided to get married. The guy who thought he was jesus was happy to perform our ceremony, held in the courtyard of our adjoining wards, surrounded by hundreds of old glass windows barred with iron grates. I wore Maggie’s veil & my Napa State Hospital white cardigan tied to make a train. We both carried huge bouquets of lilacs, which were blooming wildly in that hot, dry country. All our patient guests cheered & clapped so loudly that we couldn’t hear what jesus was saying. We only got to stroll down the sidewalk, showered with rice that Edith had filched from the kitchen where she was one of the cooks, before our union was rudely interrupted by burly male guards straining with anger in their white uniforms.

Everyone was locked down, some of us in solitary, & the bells went off for riot alert. Maggie’s poor veil was ripped apart by their feet & rage & arms. The head nurse (another lesbian) called Maggie’s mother that night, & before I had a chance to kiss her hello & goodbye, Maggie was driven away the next morning in her father’s limp-dick limo (her words again), as we ate our powdered eggs, silently depressed.

However, Maggie was a very sneaky & smart girl. She calmly arrived the following day in her VW bug (custom-painted purple, as are her stars) & said she had come back to collect her belongings, which no one had thought to pack up. Her mother, a master materialist (probably hoping for the veil), was very understanding. The hospital wanted to be accommodating in hope of future funds. So Maggie surprised me by returning to busily pack up not very much. We weren’t allowed to talk, & the nurses were watching us sharply until Ursula, understanding our need, threw her tennis shoe at the TV, screaming. Maggie palmed me a note to meet her by the lilac hedge behind the building, where she had conveniently parked. I left as though going to my new job at the dairy (cow shit apparently being a step up from human shit). The other women realized Ursula’s intentions & took off their keds, too. My last sight of that day room (where I had been declared incurably schizophrenic) was of flying sneakers, screaming technicians, breaking glass, & laughing patients—a really lovely melee. Because, of course, Maggie had returned to rescue me. We pulled out the backseat of her bug & I lay down across the battery. She laid a Mexican blanket over me, while I tried to project looking like a backseat. She piled her boxes, mostly empty, on top of me. The guards at the main gate were distracted by another call from the ward where the women who weren’t strapped down could not be contained. Maggie smiled, they gave her back her driver’s license, & off we went. On the other side of town, Maggie freed me from my seat charade & I tasted the wind in my hair for the first time in more than a year. She drove me to Big Sur, where I’d never been & they wouldn’t look for me (I had seven previous escapes, which is why I was on the violent ward so often, a curious juxtaposition—is freedom indeed violence, for lesbians?). In her trunk she had a sleeping bag, some food, money, & clothes that didn’t say Napa State on them for me. She dropped me near an overpass under which fellow fugitives of all kinds were camped, driving back to Marin, where perhaps she did escape marrying him. My belongings & three cartons of writing may still be in a dusty storage room at Napa. I guess I’m AWOL. Freedom’s worth the loss. If not for Maggie, I’d still be in the loony bin, incurable & terrified, not allowed to be a lesbian except with technicians. But I ripped that nurse out of the quilt.

Big Sur was rich with empty summer houses we raided for canned goods as a gang of teenage runaways, Vietnam War deserters, Rez escapees & drug dealers. We caught and roasted a wild pig. We hid out from the park rangers. We flirted with soldiers from the base for bags of potato chips, Hostess lemon pies, & chocolate bars. It was my theory we wouldn’t get scurvy if we ate the pies. We dropped acid & had orgies & stole into the mud baths at night. I was in a fog & detoxing from the nuthouse drugs, until one dusk when my eyes became diamond sharp at the sight of a thin young guy getting out of a hitchhiking ride at the convenience store near the campgrounds. He had black wavy hair cut in a DA falling forward over his face, wearing a leather motorcycle jacket that oozed sex. Our eyes caught across the parking lot & I fell in love like slamming into earth. I walked over, offering my open bag of BBQ pork rinds. Her reaching hand made me laugh & I blurted out, “I thought you were a guy.” She looked me up & down intensely, startled me by stroking my crotch with a quick secret movement, & growled, “Good.”]

chrystos, from cherry picker, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 21: The Concert

Every time they're not on camera I simultaneously feel so relieved for them and so upset that I don't get to watch. Messed up of me, but hey. Remember that slightly disturbing quote where Paul said he actually does believe he's kind of public property and he's fine with that?

He looks so determined. Like the fairy tale prince staring down the dragon or Enjolras about to hijack a funeral (Literally my baby was conceived after I watched this in IMAX so if that tells you anything about my feelings . . . I'm going to be annoying I'm sorry I can't help it)

Her legs look so good in those tights! I love that Mo came not because her boyfriend needs his mommy but because she wants to see them perform! Kissing her on the mouth right now.

Danger boy Paul!

Fun fact, I was this John for Halloween in 2021 to a college party. My hair was already like that, and I had dirty white keds and black jeans, so I just did fake sideburns, fake glasses, and a fake fur coat. I tried to get my best friend to be Paul. She wanted to be a hooker, and I was like “It’s the same thing!”

See, look at him and his whorish ways!

John’s little lip-bit smile. He’s so happy with himself nailing that solo. Cutie. 

Cocky boys. As they should be. I love when they’re proud of their work together. Get Back is 95% just Looks between John and Paul, isn’t it?

John and Paul instantly jump into their little “humble working class entertainers” act. You know what just occurred to me? You know how they talked about the “rattle your jewelry” comment backstage and Paul dared John to say it? I wonder if they talked about the “audition” comment too.

It really is a beautiful thing they’re doing. It’s lovely, watching everyon leave their desk jobs and their shopping and whatever else to sit in their fire escapes and congregate in the street and huddle together on rooftops. It really is just like the happy end in a sixties zeitgeist movie. 

All the girls nervous to be too enthusiastic after years of being made fun of themselves and watching others like them being mocked on TV. Let girls like things, damnit!

Mo jamming! I’m in love.

John mouthing Paul’s lyrics.

“Paul McCartney singing that. What a voice.” Literally me if time travel existed. 

“And if SOMEBODY loved me like she does,” Well, it is good manners to look at the person you’re talking to, I guess. But you do have an audience, John. And a mic and a camera. 

“Absolutely disrupt all the business in this area.” Yes! Get those blue meanies, boys!

“No lay rishi gahd blay bloojaygoo” should replace all the stupid quotes the Lennon estate puts on everything they sell. Then I’d actually want their shit. Paul trying to magic the words from his head into John’s there. Successfully, though.

That “Pleeeeeheeeeease” is one of the prettiest beatles vocal moments. I love it with all my heart. And clearly, so does Paul. Doing that thing he does, inappropriately thrusting into his bass. 

Oh my gosh it’s the song Paul and John do together on tour right now!

That “Yyyyyeeeeeah, yeaaaaaah!” (I mean the whole song, the whole concert, but especially that) does things to me. 

John’s extremely blurry, because he turned his head quick enough to give him whiplash there, sorry everyone. But look! They’re having the time of their lives! They just love performing together so much!

Everyone goes to check on their accumulating audience. (except Paul. Wonder what that’s about.)Ringo’s little pleasantly surprised smile is so so sweet!

It must be so fun for them to be performing One after 909 again after all these years. Bitter sweet with everything that’s changed since then. 

LMAO Kevin thank you for your service!

He’s a silly cutie.

The mic in the street asking that girl if she’d like them to come back every lunchtime. Imagine if they did? How cute would that be? Like back to their cavern lunchtime shows. Maybe that could’ve saved them.

Them playing God Save the Queen reminds me of that story where Brian was like, “This bigger manager wants to buy your contract from me, and I just wanted to be straight with you. They could probably get better deals for you.” and they were like, “If you sell us to him we’re only playing God Save the Queen from that moment on.” It’s probably a fake story, but that’s what it made me think of. 

I always think that quote of Paul’s is so strange, where he was like “I never got the chance to watch John while we were playing.” Like. What are you talking about, baby?

Literally “Uh. Yeah. Uh. Yeah.” Fucking his bass. Staring at John. Okay? And I’m not supposed to take that and run with it? I’m not supposed to assume from that that you want to fuck your songwriting partner?

I think he genuinely wants to get arrested. I really do. I think he wants them all to get arrested so they can finally be alone in a room together. A lovely cell for four. Just shimmying at them. And Billy looking at him like, Bro. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Paul’s “woo” and shimmy :: John’s “woo” and weird little kick move. And Paul looks so fond, of course. 

God bless Mal for stalling those little fucks as long as humanly possible. And Debbie! “Don’t actually go on the roof because it’s overweight.” Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss!

Absolutely LOVE John and George turning their amps back on. That’s right. You guys are what’s keeping the country going at this point, so if you want to play on your roof they better let you play on your roof and say thank you.

All the times when they just simultaneously turn to each other. Like, yes, this is our que to stare hungrily into each other’s eyes. 

My stomach just dropped at those words across the screen. “This was the Beatles’ last public performance.” We know, Peter Jackson. You don’t have to remind us. Jeez. 

John and Paul’s two very different but equally important leadership roles in the band at work here at the end of the concert. John delivers his iconic line, makes everyone laugh, and seals the band’s last performance with a very tight bow. Meanwhile, Paul’s climbing the gate to bypass the crowd and schmooze the police out of arresting Mal. 

THIS is sooo cute. Heads buried together and John’s very sweet, “‘s’matter? Hmm?” 

George is so cute here in the control room afterward. No wonder they don’t listen to his not wanting to do things, honestly, if he acts like this after. “What’s the law say why you can’t do that? Well how disturbing the peace? Yeah, I’m for taking over London. And every rock group in the world all on different buildings, playing the same tune.” Adorable.

Poor John. It breaks my heart that he doesn’t think his little lyric flub is funny. He’s disappointed in himself. I wish he could see that that’s one of the things everyone loves about him. George was grinning ear to ear about it. For fuck’s sake, that’s one of the reasons Paul fell in love with you in the first place. If only John could see himself the way we see him, you know? 

This little moment cracks me up. John always has to be mommy’s naughty little boy, and Yoko does a very sweet job of playing her part here. 

Linda and Paul are so touchy and clingy and it’s very romantic and I love that Ringo joins in and makes fun of them.   

The whole after-show glow for everyone was just so palpable and fantastic. I wish they could've gone on performing together. Clearly it made all of them very happy.

[maybeimamuppet]

what ifs, might haves, could have beens

She freezes in her tracks when she sees her. A cute floral skirt just past her knees, a t-shirt tucked into it, and some remarkably well matched Keds all convey an almost Miss Honey-esque vibe. But what gets Regina most is the hair.

That familiar strawberry blonde, falling in gentle ringlets a bit past her shoulders. It’s shorter now than it was back then, but she has the front pieces twisted back like a crown just like she did that first day they met.

She turns, her floral skirt whirling after her, and smiles instinctively as she sees the two of them. Her eyebrows raise high on her forehead as she recognizes Regina before her. “Regina? Oh my god, it’s so good to see you!”

Before Regina knows how to react, Cady’s wrapping her in a tight, friendly hug. She’s still a head shorter than Regina. Just like in high school. “Cady Heron. As I live and breathe.”

[kscosplaycatalog]

No. 3 - 2008

Character: Yazoo Series: Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children by Square Enix

Cosplayer Credits: - Kadaj : Kat - Reno : Jaiden

Photo Credits: - ChibiPa's nope - FSC's TigerFist - Morataya Photography - Our friend, Chris - Our friend, Kirky

==========

I definitely can't wear this costume anymore. We actually made them in such a way that we didn't need to bind or anything for them because they sort of acted like a corset/binder all on their own. They were also so form-fitting up top that I couldn't lift my arms up beyond a certain point; I could barely touch my own face. And living in FL, we did almost die of heat stroke a few times taking pics outside... so yeah, don't do that! 😂

==========

We finished everything in time for MetroCon '08 except for the weapons which we completed at the end of October.

All of the leather material aspects are made of car leather which is a lot thicker than most other fabrics because it had, not only a leather top, but a cloth underside. We made the coat first, but used the wrong needles and broke about 4-6 of them. We made our own pattern from a form-fitting jacket we had and extended it to the appropriate length. Each piece of the side design was separately sewn into place on a piece of organza. Once it was a whole piece, we sewed the whole thing on the coat. We purchased the custom zippers from ZipperSource.com. The wrists were crafted with wooden bangles purchased at Michael's and hot glued into place. The boots were made from on-sale Keds and a cover. We made a pattern to get the leather to be form-fitting and hot glued the covers in place. We already had costume gloves and the pants were merely tights. We made the big shoulder armor pieces out of cardboard, polyfil and a bit of furniture foam. The little ones were just stuffed. We hand sewed the little ones to the big ones. The straps were also hand sewed to the armor and the snaps were stomped in place (literally). The wigs were purchased from eBay seller CosplayWig.

Kadaj's weapon was made out of Balsa wood and my father, a carpenter, crafted it. Kat finished it off by wrapping the hilt and adding the black and white ribbons. Yazoo's weapon was made out of spruce wood and bits of metal for the trigger, trigger guard, hammer, and site. I used a hot glue gun to make the designs.

==========

Cost: $185 Time: ~900 hrs

==========

This costume has won the following awards: - Best in Show @ ChibiPa in 2008 - Hall Costume Contest @ MizuCon in 2008 - Best Technical @ Infinite Bits in 2009

[moocha-muses]

Prompt: nostalgia

Sure, Anon! Here's a poem about nostalgia.

Everyone- -this is the number one sign that you're a 90s kid- -dreamed of that moment. You're in your living room, Keds on the sofa, a half-eaten bowl of Cheerios in your hands -so you can drop them on the floor in shock, milk flying everywhere- and the portal opens up, and it's sparkling and magical, and out pop the Meringue Gang, ready to whisk you away on a magical adventure. "Don't worry! You'll be home before dinner!" So, look. When the Pomegranate Protector herself showed up? With the Blueberry Battlemage by her side? And the Cherry Champion and the Apple Pie Archer right behind? I didn't hesitate. I mean, I checked my glasses, I made sure I hadn't accidentally poured myself a bowlful of milk and peyote buttons, but- I didn't- I didn't think about my kids, or my husband, or my dog, or my job. (Seriously, like anyone would think about their job?) I knew what was waiting on the other side: Pie trees, and soda pop rivers, and three rainbows a day guaranteed. I held on tight to their little gloves hands and I jumped. Thirty-seven wasn't too old to be the chosen one. They'd missed me the first time around, sure, but they were busy heroes and it happened and now, with the reboot and all the new merch- I'd bought three different t-shirts. the classic glow-in-the dark reprint, and the new one with the scratch-and-sniff sleeves- My daughter and I had matching backpacks. I was wearing the officially branded pajama bottoms when they'd portalled in right in the front of the TV- of course they'd found me. Of course they needed me. Someone has to make all those damn shirts.

[humiliatingsluts2]

soooo it's super past my bedtime an I have to wake up like super early to go to work (not excited for whatsoever) but while my brain is on money an findom stuff, if you totally wanted to try that and like force a budget on me that would possibly be appreciated 😭😭)

anyways I feel as though I ought to share my most recent experience of being f**ked (swearing ban :P) like a whore!!

so I met with my fwb in a hotel in my town, I was super nervous for unknown reasons seeing as though this was the second time we'd met up! I was having anxiety but also felt a lil bold and wrote "dads holes" on me as a surprise. we kissed first of all before we stripped and I got on my knees to worship his cock (I love sucking cock so much more these days) buuttt it wasn't long before he got me to rim him. I have never rimmed anyone before and it felt so gross to be rinming a man 20 yearsoldr than mee after a while and after getting covered in so much spit. at one point there was a string connecting my mouth to hilimmm an it was so grosss😵‍💫😵‍💫

he finally saw the writing on me as I begged him to f**k me and oh it always stings going in the first time but it feels so good. I like the sting :P we went like that for a good few minutes, him holding my legs with one hand and choking me with the other. he pulled out and still choking me tried to work a big toy into my drippy pussy but it just hurt so much :(so he flipped me over and spanked with his thick leather belt (I have the cutest bruises now P) he continued that and but stopped briefly to work a plug into my ass before spanking me again and sting of the belt and the fullness of my ass made my pussy leak so much but then he worked another toy into my hole a felt so full an I felt my brain drip out as he pulled the plug and began trying to f**k my ass. I couldn't take it properly(I'm no lola:P), I was so tight and i couldn't think straight he pulled out put the plug back in put a collar on me and f****d my pussy a lil longer and I was so overwhelmed I didn't realise I was cumming until I felt it all rush and I squirted everywhereeee. he pulled out once more and tried my ass again. he was able to get it in and u f****d myself with the toy, I cried about it hurting and he continued and told me to take it. to take it like a good whore and it felt soo good. it hurt but was so good

he pulled out finally and made my suck gis balls until he came all over my face. it felt so good an 😵‍💫😵‍💫 to be used like that. to be spat on and covered in cum!!!? it’s just sooo abhhhh i’m so happy to be able to experience ittt!!!! and now I got a few plugs to play with!!?! it’s ahggggghhj?!!!!!😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

~🔔

((apologies for the lonbggg abd rambly mess!!!!!h))

I love this slutty confession, you sound like you've had an amazing night. Well done for rimming and starting to practise some anal. This got stuck in my drafts so it’s a little old now, but hasn’t 🔔 done well?

[subby9411]

Just like old times.

Tonight I am finally seeing sir since I left wearing the black keds. I’m expecting a punishment tonight but we will see how sir is feeling.

I am wearing a black short sleeve shirt with blue Jean shorts and my white canvas keds. My hair is ombré long and straightened. I only have on eyeliner and mascara. My body is thick and tan. I’m wearing Valentino perfume.

As I pull up to his house I am feeling a little anxious but mostly intrigued and excited. I walk to the sliding glass doors and sit my purse next to my feet. I put my hands on my head facing away from the doors and wait for sir to come.

“Pick up your purse and walk backwards inside” he orders.

“Yes sir”

When I get inside with my hands on my head again he cuffs me behind my back tightly. Then he turns me around and walks me to the room. It looks a lot different because it is empty with just a small stump which looks like a leather seat.

“Walk over to there facing the wall” he says as he guides my shoulders.

When I walk over to the wall he unbuttons my shorts and takes my panties and shorts off.

“Lift this foot, now lift this one” he directs me.

Then he walks away and I hear him put gloves on. He walks back towards me and that is when I am ordered to lean towards the wall bending over and spreading my legs. I do as I’m told and he begins to lube my ass. I didn’t think he’d go for the butt plug so soon, I was expecting a little reflection time first.

He insterts a medium buttplug and pushes it so fast into my ass, I lose all the air in my body and feel like I might faint. Sir gets me water to keep me hydrated. Then he puts gloves on again and starts to rub my pussy. He pulls up my shirt and puts nipple clamps on me, then he pulls my shirt down. Then he guides me over to the stump.

“Kneel down and lay on the seat” he orders.

“Now spread your legs while you’re kneeling so you can get fucked” he orders.

I hear him rustling around as I’m still processing the buttplug in my ass. My white keds are still on. And I can feel the nipple clamps pressing into my boobs as I lay on them.

“I suggest you start loosening up” he says as he starts putting the large sized dildo attached to the fuck machine in my pussy.

The fuck machine starts off slow while the buttplug is still in me… I feel a lot of pressure and I’m trying my best to relax.

“Push your ass into it like you want it” he says.

Eventually I relax and start to enjoy it while he controls the speed from slow to fast.

“You better not cum unless I say so and you better not move either do you understand!”

“Yes sir”

After a minute he says to me “do you feel like you have to cum?”

“Yes sir”

It feels so good, I wish he’d grab the vibrator and put it on my clit at the same time. He is watching me while I’m being “fucked”. I am turned on. I can feel my ass bouncing a little bit which helps it feel more satisfying.

“Can I please cum sir”

“You may” he says as he slows down the speed.

“Next time I tell you to come here you’re going to listen aren’t you?” … “yes sir”.

“You like getting fucked?” … “Yes sir”.

Eventually after I cum one more time he removes the fuck machine… then he slowly removes the buttplug as he tells me to relax. He walks away for a moment and then he comes back and wipes me off.

I wish he’d do the fuck machine without the buttplug. I actually enjoyed it.

“Stand up” he says as he helps me because I’m cuffed behind my back. He adds a second pair of handcuffs on my wrists. And shackles around my ankles at medium tightness.

He walks me to sit by the sliding doors so he can smoke a cigarette. His hair is spiked up and he is wearing a tshirt and basketball shorts. I’ve told him before I have a fetish for a guy wearing basketball shorts with running shoes without socks. It’s just that i don’t care vibes and it’s so hot.

When he’s done smoking, he walks back over and has me stand up and walk over to the wall. He grabs me by my hair and says to me

“Next time you’re going to come when I ask you to?”..”yes sir”

I can feel his entire aura surrounding me as his deep sexy voice fills my ears. His voice alone sends goosebumps through my body. I can feel my breathing getting heavy.

He walks around to stand infront of me and stairs me in the eyes. I always get lost when he looks at me. I forget everything I’m doing or have going on. He lifts up my shirt to see the nipple clamps as he plays with them. My nipples are stinging because they are sensitive.

He smacks at my boobs a couple times as I wince. “Why are you pulling away from me?” ... “it hurts sir”

“You like having little sensitive nipples?” … “yes sir”.

He tightens the shackles and then he says to me “you said you’d come last time and I haven’t seen you in months”

“I’m sorry sir”

“So what does that mean?”

“I lied to you sir”

“And what does that mean?”

“I get punished sir”

“What should your punishment be?”

“Whatever you want sir”

He tightens the shackles!

“Please sir!”

He stops in his tracks.

“What time do you want me to report next time sir?”

“Are you going to come or do I have to beg you?”

“I will come sir!”

“Be lucky I’m so lenient because next time I won’t be”… “yes sir”.

He eventually takes the shackles off and uncuffs me and hands me my clothes to get dressed. “After you get dressed stand with your hands on your head.”… “Yes sir”.

He cuffs me behind my back again and walks me to the door.

“I will give you instructions on when to report again” …“yes sir”.

“Are these black keds for me?”… “yes sir”

I brought the black keds back and they were sitting on the top inside my purse.

“I will tell you when you can leave watch your phone” he says as he opens the door after uncuffing me and handing me my purse.

After he texts me I quickly leave and head for my car. I actually loved today. It didn’t feel like so much pressure or anxiety. Just relaxing and a little more enjoyable than the last few recent times.

[merv606]

Just Terry fucking and filling Danny up so good that the next morning when Terry wants to take him again, he finds that his boy’s pretty hole is still full of, and dripping, Terry’s cum. This turns Terry on so much that he overstuffs Daniel again, fucking out more cum than he fucks it in, making his hole drip, and leaving his slender thighs completely coated on the insides. Fuck, he can’t get enough of his sweet boy.

Ah yes, f$&ked open, thoroughly debauched and used Daniel - A theme that runs in many of my works.

I was reading up on cocaine and sex drive - yet another illustrious first for my Google search - and it got me thinking in regards to this ask.

So imagine it’s a night where Terry is high, which means sex marathon / he’s more insatiable for his boy than normal (which is saying something), staying inside Daniel, hard, even him after he’s come.

And Daniel knew this was coming (no pun intended) he knows what that look in Terry’s eyes means.

It’s to the point where Daniel has a Pavlovian response when he sees Terry do a line - says a quick pray for his ass before Terry has him bent over, stuffing him full, so frantic, hard and perfect that Daniel can feel it in his throat.

Maybe he also indulges in the more filthy aspects - getting his mouth on Daniel’s ass after he’s come inside it the was the first time he took Daniel while high.

Terry is always vocal, giving out praise and poison in equal measure, depending on his mood, but he’s always oddly eloquent about it, but nights like this, he’s extra crude.

“As much as I love your ass when it’s nice and tight for me, I think I like it just as much like this - sloppy and loose.”

Spreads his ass, swiping his finger through the mess just to hook two in, clever and vicious as he twists them right into Daniel’s over sensitive spot.

Arousal shots through Terry at the fact that there’s no resistance - from Daniel or his ass as his fingers slide into the fucked open body.

Pliant and sweet - temporary fucked into submission.

“You look so goddamn used right now.”

“I should get you in my lap, in front of the mirror and show you how open your cunt is.”

“I don’t even think you can close that pretty little hole can you?”

“One look and anyone could tell how good you got it.”

“You’re a mess babe but you’ll still spread your legs for me won’t you?! Cock slut that you are.”

“Pretty face and cunt - this is how you pay your bills - why I pay your bills.”

He spits into his hole then - not that Daniel needs it - he’s wet enough, wide enough, and Terry is four fingers deep now.

He comes, weakly at best, his cock giving a lifeless twitch, a small dribble of clear liquid leaking out.

When Terry pulls out with a demeaning squelch, dragging his fingers against the soft walls, Daniel just manages to close his legs.

Not like it will defer Terry - if anything it just spurs him on more.

He gets off the bed, giving his cock a few tugs as he takes another snort, coming back to the bed, head tossed back.

He stands over Daniel’s prone body, taking in his handiwork.

The bed is a mess - the silk sheets probably can’t be saved. Not like he’d take his boy on anything but the best mind you - he needs it to be smooth against Daniel’s beautiful smooth skin when he’s moving up and down the bed with the force of their fucking - besides only Terry’s hands get to mark all that perfect flesh after all.

Terry puts his hands on his boy’s inner thighs, hand almost completely able to close around it, slippery with lube sweat and cum, and god knows what else, wrenching them open.

His boy is so tired but Terry isn’t done, the high of the line he did is a long ways off wearing off.

Daniel drifts in and out of consciousness, as Terry continues taking his pleasure from Daniel’s limp yet more than willing body.

When they finally come to, Terry before Daniel, it’s well into the late morning, early afternoon.

Terry is spooning him, ass nestled between his cheeks.

He rolls Daniel into his stomach, spreading his cheeks, Daniel protesting in sleep, hole clenching as his finger tracing over it. Terry swears he sees some cum dribble out each time he tightens.

“Shhh,” Terry soothes, Daniel rubbing his face into the mattress further, quieting.

It’s puffy and red, clearly still a bit fucked open, but he vaguely remembers rousing Daniel to swallow some Advil and remembers smearing some cream on it before crashing himself.

There’s no real damage and he must be sore but Terry continues tracing the rim, his ass keeps clenching on each pass, practically asking for it again. Terry knows what his boy is good for - knows what he can take.

Terry wraps a hand around his own cock - maybe he’ll be lenient and just come on it but when Daniel shifts his hips back, silently asking for Terry to press them in, Terry knows it’ll be inside Daniel’s ass he’ll be painting white.

Fingers slide in, like butter through a hot knife, warm wet and willing.

He grabs the lube, coating his cock, before pouring it directly into Daniel’s ass. Gently rolling him to his side, he doesn’t want him to wake just yet, pressing himself inside, slowly, inch by inch opening his back up.

Daniel moans so softly with each inch he’s given.

“So sweet for me,” Terry murmurs, burning his face into Daniel’s neck, teasing the sweat there.

As good as having Daniel while coked up is, Terry loves it like this too - loves his boy and all the ways he can have him.

He keeps the thrusts slow and steady, measured and controlled, but it doesn’t take long before the siren song of Daniel’s body overpowers his senses.

Daniel wakes like that, Terry behind him, moving sure and steady inside him,

“Good morning sweetheart,” he says, one last thrust, as his hand digs into his hip, keeping him in place so Terry shoots deep and true.

He’s half hard himself but he doesn’t even have it to wrap a hand around himself.

His body is sore and his ass aches, a sign of how well he was used. A feeling he has come to equate with love.

It’s the price for this kind of love, one Daniel pays and he willing does, every time.

Terry pulls out slowly and Daniel wrinkles his nose - he’ll be walking gingerly and sitting might be out, but when Terry gathers him in his arms, fingers carding through his hair, pressing kisses into his back and neck, soft praise in his ear, Daniel drifts back to sleep, feeling used and loved, powerful and wanted; feeling it all.

[kedsandtubesocks]

keds! for your ask game!! 🍣 & 🍙 maybe? 🥺

My sweetest Mermie THANK YOU!!! 🥺💕😭

Garfield is me and you’re pooky and I’m squeezing you so tight rn 💖

🍣 What helps you focus or get in the mood to write?

So I have a few things that help!! I really love having specific playlists or songs that help just set the mood (like for my mandalorian cowboy fic I LOVED playing some southern gothic country songs just really get into those vibes lol)

And I know this might sound weird - but I love to rewatch vids of characters before I write them?? 🤡😭Like for me it helps get into hearing a specific characters voice again or just having a nice refresher to almost activate the hyperfixation LMAO this doesn’t make sense I’m sorry 🤡

🍙 Is there a fic you wish had gotten more attention?

Hmm I think…my full fledge mando bakugo fic 😥

I’m honestly grateful for any attention my fics because I really do know how hard it is to face single digit number interactions so I’m still so appreciative for those read it!!

I just felt a little let down and a bit bummed that I finally sat down and wrote my first ever big fic for it and it didn’t do as well as I thought it would ya know?? 😣 but it happens and it’s all good!!!

Mermie my sea goddess I hope the rest of your day treats you beautifully and if not I’ll go beat it up for you LOL 😌✨🦋

APPRECIAte YOU SO MUCH!! 💌💕

[longclawislightbringer]

Chapter Two: The Princess and the Jester

Rating: T

Relationships: Chrissy Cunningham/Eddie Munson

Summary: It's fifteen minutes to showtime and Eddie's a nervous wreck when he sees a familiar face in the crowd.

I’ve been absolutely blown away by the response to the first chapter of this little fic. Thank you to all my fellow Hellcheer shippers for being so welcoming. I think I originally started writing this chapter in Chrissy’s POV before deciding that it would be more fun to see it from Eddie’s perspective. After all, there’s a reason this is tagged “Idiots in Love” *wiggles eyebrows*. Thanks once again to my beta, Ry, for taking a look at this chapter. You can find her at ryleighjosephinne on AO3 and at @dustinswill on Tumblr. I hope you all enjoy part 2! I think I've read through it about five times in the last two days, so I'm ready for it to be out there.

Chapter One. Chapter Two.

Read on AO3

As Eddie waited backstage with Jeff and Grant, he fiddled with the skull ring on his pinky finger. The din of the crowd, waiting for the concert to begin, rose behind the curtain. His heart raced in time with the clock above the stage manager’s station on the black cinderblock walls.

“I can’t do this,” Eddie blanched, butterflies dancing in his stomach. “This is the biggest crowd we’ve ever played for.” He crouched on the floor while the backline and lighting crew scurried past him as if nothing was wrong.

“Hey, snap out of it,” Jeff snapped a finger in front of his face.

“But what if I mess everything up?” Eddie wondered, eyes downcast.

“You won’t,” Jeff hauled Eddie to his feet. “You electrify a crowd when you play that guitar. You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t feel fine,” Eddie scoffed, straightening his leather jacket.

“Here,” Grant walked past the sound monitors and tossed him a water bottle. “You’ll feel better.”

“I sure hope so,” Eddie muttered, twisting off the cap to take a sip. The ice-cold water glided down his throat with each gulp.

“Hey,” Gareth mused, “is that Chrissy Cunningham?”

Eddie spewed water all over the floor.

He whipped around toward Gareth, who peeked past the curtain onto the pit.

“I thought she was only coming to the Indianapolis shows?” Jeff interjected.

“She didn’t tell me she was coming!” Eddie set down his half-drunk water and marched to the curtain, peering over Gareth’s shoulder into the crowd.

Chrissy stood at the edge of the stage, looking like a fish out of water in her matching pastel blue miniskirt, sweater, and white Keds. After she checked her watch, she ran a hand through her teased strawberry-blonde hair and fidgeted with one of her many necklaces.

His stomach flipped. Chrissy wore his ring on her hand.

“That’s definitely her,” Eddie mumbled.

“You don’t think she read the interview, do you?” Gareth asked.

Eddie’s heart plummeted.

“When was that supposed to come out?” Eddie questioned through tight lips. “I was supposed to tell her not to read it until she saw me at the Indianapolis show.”

“Last Tuesday,” Jeff replied as he and Grant joined Eddie and Gareth at the curtain. “Maybe she doesn’t read Rolling Stone.”

Chrissy took a poster from the dark-skinned girl in fishnets and combat boots beside her. Eddie waited with bated breath for her to flip it over.

His heart sank once more when he read, “EDDIE MUNSON WE NEED TO TALK” in Chrissy’s perfect handwriting.

“Ouch,” Grant patted him on the back. “Sorry, dude.”

Eddie glanced at the clock above the manager’s podium—still fifteen minutes to curtain.

He could fix this.

_________

He could not fix this.

While he waited for the security guards to bring Chrissy and her friend to their small green room, every tick of the clock reverberated against the white-washed walls. His heartbeat slowed to match; butterflies danced in his chest.

Eddie paced up and down the room, shaking his hands as he dodged the cherry coffee table in front of the couch.

“Dude, sit down,” Gareth called from the couch. “You’re gonna give yourself a headache.”

Eddie bit his lip. “Alright.”

He perched on the brown couch between Jeff and Grant, tapping his fingers on his bouncing leg.

He froze as the green room door creaked open.

Without ceremony, a security guard ushered Chrissy and her friend inside and closed the door behind them.

Chrissy glowed, her strawberry-blonde hair framing her face like a cover girl on a magazine.

The silence hung thick between them, so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Eddie sprang to his feet.

“Chrissy.” Eddie choked out. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she squeaked back.

Jeff broke the tension. “Chrissy, are you going to introduce us to your friend?”

“Right,” Chrissy shook her head as if in a daze. “Guys, this is my roommate, Stacey.”

Stacey waved behind her, her enthusiasm jingling the upwards of ten bracelets she wore on each arm. “Stacey, this is Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Grant.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Stacey gushed, twirling one of her braids. “I’m a huge fan.“

“Any friend of Chrissy’s is a friend of ours,” Grant said as he shook her hand.

The room settled back into silence. Eddie studied Chrissy like a starving man at a feast, drinking in every last drop of her before she inevitably told him to go to hell.

Gareth slapped his knees and rose from the couch. “Stacey, how would you like to see the stage?”

“I would be honored,” Stacey tipped her head in a mock bow.

“Fantastic!” Gareth grinned. “Jeff and Grant, let’s give Stacey the full tour.”

Grant put down his water as he got up to leave.

“Shouldn’t you guys stay here so the crew can find us?” Eddie asked, fiddling with the edge of his flannel.

“It’ll be fine,” Jeff said through gritted teeth. “We’ll just let Rodney know what we’re doing.” He mouthed, “Talk to her!” while he filed out of the room, leading Gareth, Grant, and Stacey toward the stage.

As she left, Stacey turned back, gave him two thumbs up and winked.

“Have fun!” Chrissy called out to her without looking away, the foreboding poster still dangling from her fingers. Eddie gulped.

When the door clicked closed and they were alone, Eddie rubbed the back of his head, “Chrissy, I—“

“I read the interview—“ Chrissy interrupted him softly, “—in Rolling Stone.”

“Oh,” the color drained from Eddie’s cheeks. “You saw that. You weren’t supposed to see it until I could tell you myself.”

He crossed the room and grabbed her shoulders.

“Look, pretend I never said anything,” Eddie pleaded as her bright eyes filled with tears. “We can go back to the way it was.”

Chrissy shook her head. “Eddie, I don’t think I can.” Her voice wavered.

“No, no,” Eddie stepped back. “Please don’t, Chrissy. I can’t lose—“

The door to the Green Room slammed open.

“Five minutes to your set, Mr. Munson,” the PA said, not even bothering to glance up from his clipboard.

“Coming,” Eddie called as the PA walked away. He turned back to Chrissy but avoided her tearful gaze. “I’ve got to go.” He shouldered past her, continuing, “If you want, you can watch us from the wings. I’m sure the guys already dropped Stacey off. It’s a really great view and—“

“Edward Munson, would you stop talking for once!” Chrisy seethed.

Eddie whirled around in the cinderblock hallway, already halfway toward the stage. Chrissy stood in the green room door, tightly clenching her poster. An angry flush bloomed across her cheeks and bled down her neck into her blue sweater.

Eddie put his hands in his pockets. “I don’t understand.”

“I can’t forget,” Chrissy’s voice quivered, “because . . . because . . . Oh, gosh darn it!”

Eddie reeled back as Chrissy hurled her poster aside and flung herself into his arms. On instinct, he reached his arms around her waist to steady her as she cradled his head, pulling him closer. She jammed their lips together, and in an instant, every anxiety about the upcoming concert vanished.

The world slowed to a standstill around them.

She tasted like strawberries.

Chrissy pulled back with a lazy grin, holding onto the collar of Eddie’s jacket. “I would have said yes if you asked.” Her skin was warm where his hands crept under her sweater. “So now I’m asking you: will you go out with me?”

“What?” Eddie blinked.

“Mr. Munson, you’re needed on stage,” the PA tapped his shoulder, pulling him out of the daze.

“Right,” he grabbed Chrissy by the wrist and dragged her to where Stacey and the rest of the band waited in the wings just out of sight of the crowd.

Depositing her next to her roommate, Eddie fiddled with the hem of her sweater.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Chrissy bristled. “Absolutely.”

“Just had to be sure,” Eddie smirked as he leaned in to give her a quick peck on the lips.

Stacey squealed as the rest of the band gasped. Eddied gave them the finger as he pulled back.

“Yes, Chrissy, I will go out with you,” he answered as the lights dimmed over the crowd and their intro music blared through the speaker system. The crowd roared in applause, chanting “Corroded Coffin” in time to the beat.

Chrissy melted, stars in her eyes as she watched him go.

“I’ll even be your man forever if you like,” Eddie shouted back to her as he backed away.

Giddy, Eddie jogged onto the stage behind his bandmates and assumed his position in front of his microphone downstage left as Jeff approached the mike center stage.

Grabbing his beloved red guitar off the stand, Eddie slung it over his back.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Chrissy in the wings, who blew him a kiss. Beside her, Stacey looked like she was about to faint.

Eddie tinkered with the frets on his guitar.

The backing music cut out. Gareth counted them in on drums as the spot came up on Grant. With precise fingers, he picked out the opening to “Unworthy”.

Eddie tapped his foot, waiting for his turn. In eight bars, he would come in with his signature riff.

He took one last look at Chrissy. She clasped her hands tight.

Eddie winked at her before ripping into his opening chord. The sound reverberated through the stadium as the spotlight above him blasted on, a blindingly hot beam of white light. Eddie closed his eyes. He glided across the strings, plucking out a melodious cacophony.

When he finished his riff, he opened his eyes and glanced at the crowd. They watched the band with rapt attention. Eddie settled into his element.

Jeff stepped up to the mike as the last spotlight blared on. The crowd was putty in his hands.

“We’re Corroded Coffin!” Jeff shouted. “Let’s get ready to rock!”

_____

“Thanks for being such a great crowd, Pittsburgh!” Jeff yelled into the mike. “We’ve got a couple more songs for you all, but I’m going to pass the mike over to Eddie to introduce this next song.”

Eddie glanced between Jeff and the audience without missing a beat.

Jeff nodded toward Chrissy, waiting for him in the wings.

She gave him two thumbs up and mouthed, “You got this!”

Eddie smiled and turned back to the booming crowd. The stage lights beat down on him—he could barely make out any faces beyond the first row.

“Hey, everyone,” he waved. “ I’m Eddie.”

The crowd roared.

“I love you, Eddie!” one guy screamed.

“Thank you,” Eddie joked, placing a hand over his heart. “I’m touched.” He leaned his bare arm on the neck of his guitar. He’d lost the jacket and the flannel somewhere halfway through their set, when he was singing lead on their cover of "11th Street Kids". “So funny story about this next song . . . And every love song that I’ve ever written. They’re all about my best friend—“ A cheer rose from the crowd as Eddie vamped the opening of the next song. “If you read our interview in Rolling Stone, I admitted I’ve been in love with her for years, and I never told her, even though she’s gotten demos of every song I’ve ever written.” He paused for dramatic effect—the crowd waited with bated breath. A rivulet of sweat darted between his shoulders. “She hasn’t heard this song before.” He winked; the crowd screamed. He plucked the strings with a gentle touch. “Whenever I’m in her presence, I am but a humble court jester devoted to a beautiful, unattainable princess, unworthy of her attention, only desiring to hear that melodious laugh for one more time.” Eddie sighed pathetically. “That’s all I thought I would ever be, her court jester.”

He waited again, the crowd eating out of the palm of his hand. He smirked.

“But apparently, I was wrong. She’s here tonight, and she just asked me out!”

Cheers and whoops rose from the crowd.

“I said yes, of course.” Eddie winked. “Guess I’ll have to come up with some new material for the next album.”

The crowd laughed.

Eddie picked up the tempo, queuing Grant on bass and Gareth on drums. The rhythm coursed through him like lightning as the lights flashed and smoke rose from the floor. It was a good thing they had been practicing to start playing this song after the Indianapolis show next year.

“This song is called ‘The Princess and the Jester’.” He glanced at the wings. Half in shadow and flushed with excitement, Chrissy bounced along to the song.

They locked eyes as time seemed to slow down. Eddie kept the rhythm but couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“Chrissy, this one’s for you.”