#turns out i got waaay more than that

[sagesilentfire]

another toffee analysis by sage h silentfire

I've been sitting on this analysis for a while, and I was going to touch on it briefly in a project I'm working on, but a talk with my therapist allowed me to put it into words and in greater detail than before. So here it is:

Why exactly do I like Toffee so much? It's a genuine question. He's the target of many different questionable writing choices, barely focused on, and forgotten within seconds of his death. We know so little about him he's basically a generic doomsday villain. The fandom is worse to him: popular interpretations paint him as cruel, arrogant, spiteful, and even, surprisingly enough, stupid. The word "sociopath" gets thrown around a lot, which, ableist. He's emotionless. He has no empathy. He's unable to connect with people. While liking villains is somewhat acceptable nowadays, it's always with the expectation that you like them because they're evil, not for any deeper reason. And with Toffee, because he's so poorly written, that should be the reason you like him. Because he's evil, and that's awesome.

But that's not why I like Toffee.

See, I am autistic, and that's never going away. I get more stereotypically autistic by the year, as I grow and become more independent, and my newfound independence clashes with my family and the society I live in. I'm weird, I'm moderately smart, I'm quirky. But more critically, I have no close friends because I literally don't know how to make and maintain friendships. I feel painfully aware of the potential emotions of everyone around me, but I don't know how to act on that awareness and communicate effectively with people, leading me to assume the worst. I have had meltdowns in crowded spaces that went completely unnoticed because I was "too subtle". I even worry that I'll die without any of the stories I want to tell – without my story – being told, because no one wanted to learn it.

Sound familiar?

So yes, I like Toffee. Even think he's a halfway decent person morality-wise, not just a villain. He expresses emotions weirdly, but he does express emotions. He is staunchly not willing to sacrifice his plans for others, but he still takes time to be nice to other people regardless. He didn't kill Moon and Marco when he could have, even though they were trying to kill him. He is empathetic enough to manipulate people and smart enough to take control of any situation, and he does it while not expressing emotions in ways others would expect. He's so much like my dream self fr.

And he dies the unquestioned villain, never getting the chance to tell his side of the story. The only perspective that we do get is filtered through the lens of his murderers. 

"But Sage!" you might be saying. "What about Comet?!"

Well. I do count Comet's death as one of the questionable choices the writers made (it makes very little sense with Toffee's character, wouldn't he manipulate her into a better deal? It feels a little like the writers were like "Oh shoot, we haven't made Toffee evil enough to 'deserve' his graphic death, let's... uh, let's make him kill Moon's mother for no reason!"), but I can understand why Toffee did it, again through an autistic lens.

See, autistic people like me aren't taken seriously. Not about our areas of knowledge, not about our views and beliefs, and especially not about matters of our physical and mental health. We're treated like weird baby dolls that are expected not to have meltdowns or criticize their "superiors". Or we're embarrassments, time bombs just waiting to go off and mortify whoever we're with. Growing up, I was never able to be right, or even have a point. Oh, there were minor disagreements my guardians let me "win" and then would weaponize during the more serious arguments, but whenever we got into screaming matches, I was always the one in the wrong. We didn't even apologize or talk it out after arguments; it was always expected that I would realize I was wrong eventually and it was swept under the rug with all the other skeletons of long-dead arguments and left to simmer into resentment. 

But there was one surefire way to make a dent, one I discovered recently and that has actually saved my life.

In the summer of 2022, I was put on a new medication. Long story short, I did not sleep for two weeks. I was in shambles, and I needed my mother to raise hell from me, because she would not let me do it myself – my psychiatry goes through my guardians, and I didn't even have the psychiatrist's number at the time. But she wouldn't do anything. The psychiatrist thought things would level out eventually, and my mother thought what the psychiatrist thought, nevermind that I was actively getting worse and my sleeping pills were getting less effective by the day. I begged her to raise hell like I knew she could, and she sent a mild phone call gently suggesting that things still weren't ideal. I could feel myself slipping away as everyone who was ostensibly taking care of me sat and twiddled their thumbs.

So I got personal. I deliberately started a big blowout. I convinced her that things weren't going well, and this little game of chicken with my health wouldn't result in the perfect, uncritical, angelic autistic daughter she so desperately wanted. I got into a screaming match, I listed everything she had ever done wrong, and I told her to shut up and stop spewing weak justifications on how my pain wasn't her fault, actually. I hit her where it hurts. I hurt her back. I hurt her.

And it worked. Hurting her made her take me seriously and I was back on my old meds before sunset. I slept well that night. And I will never regret it. 

So maybe Toffee's plan to overthrow his colonizers with the death of Comet didn't end in monster victory. But if it weren't for the eleventh-hour dark magic, it would have. And Toffee's people were oppressed and the victims of genocide for ages. They were the small band of rebels fighting an evil colonizing empire. They were ideologically in the right. They kicked and clawed and bit until they found something to hurt, and then they didn't hesitate. Because no one took them seriously, and they still wouldn't have taken them seriously unless they did something damaging. Comet sure didn't; her chapter is a continually escalating series of microaggressions. Moon didn't; she doesn't seem to care about the conflict at all before Comet's death. Who else would take him seriously? Mina? The High Commission? Glossaryck?

So while I don't think he was totally in character in killing Comet, I do understand more than others why he might have done it. 

Because Toffee is like me, for better or for worse. And he could have been great for me and people like me. But he wasn't. He was assumed to be evil and left to die immediately. Because people like me are always the bad guys.

In short,

Exhibits:

Toffee's emotions, courtesy @butterflyeffectiveless:

Comet's continually escalating microaggressions:

Additional source for Toffee being autistic:

because i'm autistic and i like him

the end.

[screampied]

#THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY. g. suguru

☆ sum. the last thing you’d expect for a surprise birthday present by your friends was a visit to a men’s strip club. geto suguru—your dancer’s got it all. tall, handsome, and he wants waaay more than just thirty minutes with you.

wc. 6.9k (h.. haha)

warnings. fem! reader, stripper au, stripper! geto, unprotected, lap dancīng, dry humping, switch geto, lots of riding, 69, finishing too quick, choking, geto has nīpple piercings, hair pulling, spīt, dirty talk, he licks champagne off you, nīpple play, breedīng, praise, **** cameo :), petnames.

an. ty to the ppl who voted on my poll <3 kinda scared to post this LOL. this came on a whim ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

➤ kinktober mlist.

“i understand your body wants it. i know your thoughts, oh you ‘bout it ‘bout it . . ”

the erotic lyrics that blared through the club’s abject speakers nearly deafened your ears the moment you stepped inside. you were flashed with a plethora of luminescent jade lights as you read a glowing sign near the bar that read ‘welcome to the vixxxen lounge.’ your friends, who decided to surprise you for your birthday with nothing more than a girls’ trip to a men’s strip club told you they’d be getting drinks if you need them. of course . . that was probably code for: going to spend time near the private rooms.

apparently, it’s ‘happy hour’ which meant countless discounts—and you’d already had your two individual sessions paid for by one of your friends. crisp aerating air waves from the air conditioner chills against your skin as you lean against the bronzy brick pillar. you gather your surroundings, eyeing the oily attractive glossed men that entertained the screaming crowds of thirsty women. the wide stage was spacey, and it almost looked like a concert—you started to wonder just who you were paired up with. but right as you’re pondering deep in thought, there’s a light tap on your shoulder.

“miss.”

you turn around to face probably the most attractive man you’ve laid your eyes upon. he’s tall with lengthy long hair — tangled black tresses of strands that reach just about past his shoulders. you couldn’t help but openly gawk a bit . . finding your eyes to leisurely trail down toward his skimpy attire. near his neck, he had a stained smooch of a lip stick mark that was a dark shaded red. you then noticed a few hundred dollar bills stuck in between his red thin straps.

this guy, it appeared he was dressed as some kind of firefighter. he had on the helmet along with the matching baggy yellow pants, but was completely topless. the only thing that went against his chiseled pecs was the skinny straps that attached onto the belts of his pants.

“heyy,” he waves a hand in your face, arching a brow.

“o- oh, sorry,” you bashfully murmur, mentally cursing yourself out for wandering off into space again. embarrassing, embarrassing. fishing for your vip pass that gave you direct access to one of the secluded private rooms—you dig it out your pocket, staring down at the assigned dancer and room number. “are you uh . . geto?”

“i am. but ah, suguru’s fine,” he murmurs, and he takes your pass, putting the temperature lanyard over your neck. geto’s fingers brush against your skin and you nearly shudder.

his touch.. it felt like sparks of electricity, and near the far distance by the crowded stage, your friends waved at you. with a throaty, “follow me, birthday girl,” he swiftly turns his heels and starts making a beeline toward the back of the club. you follow him, continuing to eye his costume.

but phew, he had quite the ass.

but anyway—that’s not the point.

it never really occurred to you how all the male strippers had specific costumes—you were far too entranced by geto. it was probably because of how halloween was only a mere few weeks away, so it’d make sense how they’d be ordered to get into the spirit of things.

“and imma let you do it how you wanna girl i’ll riiiide with it, riiiide with it . . ”

the lyrics of that catchy same song that resounded through the speakers of the club grew louder—and as he guided you inside the dimly red lit room, he makes you lie back against a cushioned sofa. there’s a few piles of money scattered near the front, and you didn’t count but that amount could make anyone filthy rich.

geto rubs the back of his neck, rolling it around to stretch before he glances down at you. you struggle to look him in the eye and a faint smile creases across his lips.

you’re new, and he could tell you weren’t used to such carnal provocative environments.

“relaaax, pretty girl,” his voice was low purr. the way he talked was soothing, a good amount of teasing and playfulness. right at his words, your shoulders slumped and you lean back.

the air around you seems to close in, getting thicker ‘n thicker before he makes you haul your arms over the edges of the couch. “comfy?” and he doesn’t do anything else until you give him a subtle complying nod. geto takes off his amber-colored helmet before putting it on your head. “lean back. just focus on me.”

“o . . okay,” you exhale, and your eyes finally meet his.

the fake firefighter helmet crooks, tilting a bit to the side over the crown of your head as you watch him starting to sway to the bass dropping beats. you gulp as he gets closer . . and closer, following the exact steps to his usual routine before he gets on your lap.

he’s so pretty, and now that his helmet was off of him, you got an even more view of his face. geto starts to slowly grind against you, one hand resting near back of the couch that’s next to your shoulder. he’s fully in sync with the song that booming blares in the background.

the friction. he was moving up against you, and you couldn’t help but glance down his glossy chest. his legs were huge, and you didn’t even notice the clamped silver piercings that stuck against his reddened nipples. “is this okay?” he whispers, and you already feel yourself starting to heat up. the a/c was blasting—and yet, you felt like it was over a hundred degrees.

“ ‘s okay,” you breathlessly say, feeling your facial expressions serene. geto swiftly gets off you, and he starts to rock and grind his hips against the floor.

he’s slow and precise—each movement matches the following before he sits up, flicking against the straps of his costume. fuck, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. you knew he was probably used to this . . seeing so many women at a time, giving them a thirty minute private dance and going on with his day.

geto had charisma and lots lots of it.

it was ironic because he didn’t even have to say anything. throughout the duration of his entire routine, he let his hips do the rest of the talking. speaking of hips, you’ve never seen a more a slutty waist.

it’s unapologetically snatched, and you start to envision seeing his face plastered on every cover of a a men’s vogue magazine. he’s gorgeous—and the second he’s back in your lap again, he leans into the crook of your neck. “hey,” he repeats, and his voice was a lot more pitched and lower. it’s a dirty kind of husky that makes you clench your thighs together. as he’s up close—you get a whiff of his cologne. it’s quite loud, and you’d guess the scent was something between bergamot and rich aromatic oak moss. “do you wanna touch me?”

a breath gets trapped in the back of your clogged throat at the question.

geto continues to gradually grind his hips into you as pretty black strands of his hair tickles near your shoulders. “y- yes,” and the words smoothly flow from your lips like smooth molasses of chocolate.

geto was patient, and he wanted to make you comfortable—that was his number one priority.

he speaks in a more rough yet sly tone. “ ‘m gonna grab your wrists okay? just feel me,” and you feel mentally prepare yourself. biting down on your bottom lip—you mouth a soft, ‘okay,’ and geto gently grabs your wrists.

he’s still slowly jerking his hips against you, matching each sultry beat of the song. the base of the chorus rang through your ears and the lyrics flowed through once ear ‘n out the other.

as you stare up at him, he makes you press your hands firmly against his shaven flexing chest. sheets of slicking sweat that covers the top part of his body coats on your hands and you cutely furrow your brows. “heh, oh sorry love. ‘m a bit sweaty, hope that doesn’t turn you off.”

“it’s f . . fine,” you utter, and he resumes to guide your hands. his chest was as hard as a brick, and you felt how his muscles would freely tense.

god, geto was a literal sculpture. you probably looked stupid with how you kept openly staring at his perfectly carved abs. an entire six pack - each section even more strenuously ripped than the first.

as you continue to gawk, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets—you feel him shifting his weight a bit so he wouldn’t crush you. your thumb snags against his pierced nipple and he grunts, breaking character for a second. he lets off a cute snarl. “sorry! i didn’t-”

“sweetheart, it’s okay,” he hums, releasing a low puff of air. so he was sensitive there, noted.

as he continues, he makes your hands reach lower. the thin straps of his costume glide against your plump fingertips before he stops at his fading raven-colored happy trail.

black ‘n bushy . . you could make out every single tiny speck of hair that stuck against the lower part of his abdomen if you squinted, and you did.

the rest was hiding underneath the upper hem part of his prop turnout pants. “now ‘m gonna let go of my hands,” he whispers, eyeing you intently.

it was so much lustful ardor in the air. the more you stared at the dancer, the more you started questioning why the hell you never visited a strip club sooner. a question that was probably gonna remain unanswered..

“ . . ‘n ‘m gonna let you do whatever you want while i finish.” he concludes his sentence, and as if his hands were attached to your own with adhesive velcro, geto slowly pulls away.

now, it’s just your two balmy palms pressing against his chest. you take it upon yourself to drag an invisible line down his flat sleek cheek with your fingers.

your hands then find themselves reaching for a few papery fifty dollar bills, tossing it at his glossed grinding body. geto sighs with a cunning simper, continuing to rock his slim hips into your lap. “that’s it, feel me princess. ‘m all yours.”

and in a way – he was.

it was only you two in the room, and yet it felt like you ‘n suguru were the only people on earth. the entire mood was sensual and you could almost smell the libido that radiated off his skin. it was a scent you couldn’t describe—but you didn’t want him to stop.

as your hands kept roaming down his puffed out chest, you stop right at the hem of his pants. poking out, his sharp carved-like ‘v’ shaped pelvis arches within each muscle he moves forward.

the crimson red lights that flicker every three seconds narrowly spotlights toward geto’s fit body. for a quick moment—you get a good glimpse of his face and he’s inches away from your shimmery twitching lips.

geto leans up to your ear and he hoarsely whispers. “birthday girllll,” and he huffs out a drawn breath, feeling you eagerly tug at his pants. a snicker leaves from him before he gets a nice smell of your citrusy perfume. “ah. is the pants gettin’ on your nerves?”

“a bit,” you murmur honestly, and you were already undressing him with your eyes. you were sure geto was most likely wearing a thong underneath but you imagined otherwise.

filthy - you couldn’t believe the thoughts you were having.

to think, if you hadn’t accepted this little ‘girls’ trip’ with your friends, you’d probably be sleeping the entire day away. after all, they did want you to get out more. especially for your special day. with a pout twisting across each part of your lips, you sigh. “can i—”

“what, undress me?” he tries to play coy, seeing your pouty expression increase. geto hums, amused as you lightly hook a finger underneath his hooked strap before he shrugs. “go ‘head, princess. knock y’rself out.”

geto found your hesitance cute. you didn’t wanna seed ‘needy’ but you were showing all signs of it. at the moment, you completely forgot you were at a strip club and he was just a dancer.

but fuck it.

you went slow as he still straddles your lap, slowly pulling down his loosely fitted pants. they were baggy.. a flashy color of yellow, and the more you tugged them down, the more you got a glance at his scanty thong.

it’s dark purple with his name embedded on the thin white strips.

from all sides, it spelled ‘s u g u r u,’ in bold lilac plum colors. he even had custom made thongs? as if you couldn’t get even more aroused—

yeah, you were aroused. leave it to your legs that remained glued together starting to swelter up with … stickiness.

not everyday did you have a man grind against your lap, and to be fucking frank you didn’t think you’d last.

“you’re so pretty,” you pant, watching him shimmy his pants down to where it flops down to his ankles. and oh, he had quite the bulge.

it looked almost painful—so swole and round, you just wanted to kiss it. it looked like at any second it was about to just burst through the cottony stretched fabric. the scenery grows more hedonic as the red lights dimmer. you could barely see his face anymore, just a silhouette that grinds against your lap at each beat of the song playing loudly.

as you nearly slip out a moan, you lean back before your heaving breaths start to accelerate. “suguru.”

“aw,” he coos, feeling your arms wrap around his slender waist. geto’s still swiftly grinding into you, feeling your cute nails claw into his back. the back of your brain kept chanting ‘more, more, more!’

you still have the helmet on, and with the way it’s crooked and could barely fit your head—he found that small detail adorable. as he remained seated on your squished thighs, it was embarrassing to think you were starting to feel yourself erratically throb.

leaning into your neck, he could loudly smell your sheer arousal and it makes him lowly chuckle against the soft shell of your ear. “not satisfied, yeah?” and he lets off a quiet bellowing grunt, feeling your hands trail down his sweaty body once more.

he’s so built, parallel to a literal tank.

geto’s rocking against you in rhythm with the same song that still trumpets through the speakers before whispering. “just say it ‘n i’ll give it to you.”

“you always come to the parties. to pluck the feathers off allll the biiiirds. . ”

the lengthy song continued to drag on—and the busted speakers in the private room sounded like it was about to break from the distortion. it was loud, but your panting breaths was even louder the more geto dances on you.

letting off a longing three second moan once a leg of yours voluntarily hooks around his slim waist, you mewl out a sweet, “i want you. suguru, fuck me.”

“oh. sounds like a demand, sweetheart,” he purrs, and he stills his hips against your lap.

geto’s got a plethora of rings on each of his fingers. pretty silver ‘n gold bands that would wrap around his digits. he had long fingers, thin and perfectly slender.

the more you stared, the more you thought how good they’d fit insi—

“eyes up here,” he cuts you off, and you shudder feeling his palms cup your face. your leg still wraps around his waist before another shortly follows.

he’s barely rocking into you now, and with a bumpy shimmy, you feel his bulge rub against you. “mhm,” geto grunts before meeting your needy gaze once more. as a thumb strokes your bottom lip, pulling it down gingerly, he whispers. “ask nicely. say pretty please.”

“you won’t … charge me extra?” you sheepishly say, beads of perspiring sweat trickling down all sides of your forehead.

geto smugly smiles, grumbling a subtle, ‘nah,’ before making you lean all the way back against the padded sofa. “okay,” you breathe, and you just didnt care anymore.

you wanted him – maybe even needed him..

geto’s hardened bulge that presses against his thong throbs harder before you sweetly murmur,“please, fuck me, suguru.”

“anythin’ for the birthday girl.”

and those words were the same exact words that ran through your mind as you now found yourself in . . quite the risqué position.

you’d be the one straddling geto now. he’s got you in a classic 69, and your pretty perked ass hovers over his face. right in front of you was his weighty fat cock, and it’s a pretty flushed pink with rosy-lime veins prodding from the sides.

you’re whimpering out sweet harmonic keynotes as his long pointed tongue slithers its through your inviting entrance, two broad arms clinging onto your hips. “fuuckk,” he’d groan, feeling you smear a thumb over his leaky mushroomy tip.

you’ve already got him sopping wet from the chin down thanks to your wet cunt – glossy pearly drool seeping from the sides of his dick.

geto’s shaft remains idle, and you wrap a hand around his base before pumping it, rotating your wrist – once, twice, thrice..

he was aching, and the entire time he was giving you a show he had a boner. it was rare, usually whenever he gave lap dances—he was one to never really crack, he was a trained professional and yet here you were.

“mmch,” his swollen puckered lips smack against your cunt as he eats you out entirely from the back.

your mouth drops, jaw dangling— goofily hanging open like a cartoon as he resumes to extends the length of his tongue inside the outskirts of your warm room-temperate-tastin’-pussy.

lolling it out all the way, he licks from top to bottom—stopping at your clenching hole. geto gives it a five second kiss, a sloppy one that glues a mixture of his spit and your slimy juices on his mouth. “sweetheaaart,” he rasps, biting back a greedy groan once he feels you starting to take him in your mouth.

your throat’s seraphic warmth draws a hot sharp breath out of him as he swats a hard palm against your ass for you to start. “when i say move your ass against my face, i fuckin’ mean it. move,” and you let off a candied whimper the second the temporary sting sends singles toward your weeping whiny clit.

feebly, you start to flop your ass up and down against his face and you hear a satisfy ‘hmm’ purr from his lips. you’re moaning, sinking his cock down your throat in the process before your sticky tongue swirls around his angered crownhead. “mmph,” and you take a few inches before you feel his tip swipe against the scaled roof of your mouth.

going back up, it loudly ‘pops!’ out as a bit of sheeny saliva trickles down your chin. you’re taking him deep within no time, and you let off a cute hiccup once his swollen sack paps near your jaw.

so full ‘n round…

you’re breathing through your nose, still shaking your ass against his face, swipin’ his nose occasionally like a credit card with your honeyed-slathered cunt.

his wide flat tongue felt so good that you felt your toes curling each time he playfully nibbles on your sensitive throbbing clit. his tastebuds felt each pulse and it was so hot. “sugu, fuck.”

“i know, i know,” he gruffly whispers against your runny folds. bringing a pair of long twinned fingers towards your pussy, geto strums it down the pulsating slit in a straight pillaring line.

with a bit of pressure—he spreads your lower lips apart, getting a front row seat view of your clit pumpin’ pumpin’ away.

you had such a pretty throb, the prettiest he’s ever seen.

“god, you’re pretty but you’re even prettier down here too,” and not only do you hear him swallow but you feel it too.

a long full gulp, and he’s making sure to savor as much of your sweet slick on his tongue as possible.

geto’s just nasty, and a proud eater. he zigzags his tongue everywhere until your vision’s murky and clouded. you’re left crossed eyed with puffed up cheeks, barely able to focus on his dick that’s laying flat on your tongue.

a hand of his squeezes against your ass before with a mean ‘whack!’ he spanks it again just to see the bouncy recoil. the way a ‘lil fat portion of your ass would jiggle all due to the hasty-rash contact of his palm makes him throb.

and you feel it right in your mouth.

as your head bobbles at a more quick yet languid pace, your tongue skims down one of the many veins that paint down his cock. your repeated moans become muffled, and geto groans at how sloppy you sound—from the front and from behind.

the more he slurps every syrupy drop that dribbles out from your gurgling pussy, his precisely-thorough licks turn into exaggerated four second sucks.

geto softly caresses a hand against the bare skin of your exposed flesh, tugging on your pulled up skirt. pulled to the side were your panties that had a pretty pink star imprinted on the back decorated with glimmery rhinestones. you moan as your back slowly arches inward ‘n out and your knees become to buck.

his tongue, he definitely knew how to eat.

“ ‘s good, juuuus’ like that princess,” he huffs, feeling minuscule dewdrops of your saliva pour down the sides of his cock, slicking all over his base.

your thumb traces a heart over his hefty sack, massaging his tender full testes before you hear geto whine out a sweet, “o- oooh shit,” he was tender there too, huh..

and the sound catches him completely off guard because he grunts, the swaying of his tongue gradually slowing down. geto’s pretty lashes flutter before he grunts, taking a second to breathe. “don’t . . stop, play with ‘em some more,”

“pf—” you pop your mouth off his dick again, wet slimy sounds following as you stroke him off with an closed palm. “are you sure?”

“yeah yeah, ‘m sure,” and there’s a bit of sass in his gruff tone.

geto’s getting flustered, and never in a million years would he admit that you playing with his balls made him feel so good but fuck, it did.

geto paws a hand against your ass before letting off a hurried breathless, “fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

you went back to bobbling your head up ‘n down, pumping his fleshy pillar of length in your free hand before you start writhing your ass against his face even more quicker. geto moans, a surge of a trill nearly escaping out his gruff vocal chords before he grunts loudly. “mmp,” and your throat was so wet ‘n warm.

it enveloped him entirely, and as your cunt’s sitting over his slick lips—every so often rubbing against his nose and slick-streamed chin, he peppers it with a few kisses.

your hips were arched ‘n askew, and as your tongue occasionally darts down his sensitive slit you hear him grunt again. the burgundy colored sofa pathetically dips inward due to the stacked weight of both rutting bodies. geto’s eyes start to roll their way back as you continue, nearly sucking the soul out of him.

“fuck, baby. spit on it,” he groans, clasping his teeth at your needy clit.

he slides his tongue against your cute bulbous-shaped nub before sucking on it for the umpteenth time. you moan, still tossing your ass around for him in a slow meandering manner, feeling his tongue drag down the slope of your ass again.

geto’s pussy drunk entirely, and he didn’t care if this was against policy, having a customer touch him. when you tasted this divine, he couldn’t help devour your cunt like the starved, starved man he was..

at his words, you spat out translucent globs of saliva from your lips, pasting the slightly curved sides of his dick with your slick mess. “pff,” and you drench him from the base down, twisting his shaft with your wrist before hearing him groan.

geto’s about to finish and you could feel the vigorous pumps of his dick in your mouth growing weaker … and weaker – until, he cums.

geto’s jaw goes slack the moment his peak abnormally reaches, and growls out a husky ‘fuuuuuck,’ with the muscles in his neck tensing.

within a blink of an eye and a snap of a finger, the flat tip of your tongue’s now being sprayed with spritz of waxen cum. it’s a bittersweet taste that coats on your judgy tastebuds, and as you close your eyes with a humming moan departing from your lips, you hear him hiss. his body’s violently shaking, and his hips start to hungrily thrust into your mouth.

you wriggle your ass in face as he’s barely eating you out anymore, frantically heaving as he dumps his all down your pretty tight throat. “fuck, fuck, take it,” and his body still sporadically tremors.

as your mouth’s still full, geto gives your teary wet cunt it’s last few lapping licks before his head collapses back in lecherous defeat.

with cheeks still plumply puffed — his cock remains shoved inside. his aggravated red tip’s just swiping ‘n erupting near the roof of your mouth as you slurp him clean.

you swallow instantaneously, luxuriating in the mildly honey taste before feeling him shudder underneath you. “goddamn, so fuckin’ good. fuckin’ filthy, princess.”

with clammy palms, he turns you over and you lean in to kiss him. geto’s taken by surprise, and as you make him flop back against the velveteen cushion, you made your way on his lap. rough edges of teeth clash and roughly clatter against each other as each tongue plays a more salacious version twister.

geto reclines back, his hands moving toward your rocking waist as he grunts—tasting himself on your tongue. its bitter, but with the help of your lip gloss—it turns far more sweet within seconds. feverish breaths ghosts inside each mouth before you watch him reach near the side of him.

grabbing a half filled up bottle of mousseux, he flicks off the cork with a flick of his middle finger. geto’s eyes still closed as he’s delving his tongue right into your mouth.

the merciless smacking of lips grew louder before he pulls away, huffing breathlessly. “wan’ more of a taste real quick, princess,” and it sounds more like a needy plead. you see how flushed his face was, and geto’s eyes dart straight toward your bare chest. the top you wore was pulled down, clinging near the very bottom of your waist. “c’mere..”

and as you lean in, you watch as geto starts to pour down a small stream of champagne all down your chest. right between your tits, cupping underneath your tummy so none wouldn’t spill further down.

he makes sure a few glosses over your pretty round breasts before he grunts, closing the distance between your chest.

geto buries his face in between the valley of your tits, licking it right up. the bubbly fruity taste lingers on his tongue as he laps you up from top to bottom moaning at the spicy sweetness.

a mixture of your skin and champagne—better than any cocktail this club’s ever served.

“f- fuck,” he moans, lying his tongue flat. geto stares at you the entire time too, and his mouth gradually trails it way toward your damp neglected nipples. he cups his lips around the first nipple—slowly transitioning to the next before slurping the drink right off your body.

a tight breath gets caught in your throat as he continues to lick the rainy drops of sugary champagne off your body. geto groans, savoring the taste before with a loud ‘plop’, he pops your tender wet nipple out of his mouth.

there’s nothing but utter lust and infatuation in his eyes—and he then gets up to kiss you. the room’s nearly pitch dark without the help of the dim effulgent red lights that shined against you both. it added to the mood perfectly.

as tongues continue to try to assert dominance, you moan right in the dancer’s mouth, returning the gesture of swapping gauzy strings of gossamer spit.

abruptly though, you pull away, gently pushing geto back against the sofa.

with a raspy ‘ugh,’ geto lands on his back as you give him a light shove. he’s at your mercy, and you stand up from his lap, a wind of confidence coming out of nowhere and nearly pulling you forward.

he stares at you with hooded cunt-drunk eyes, watching you do a figure eight with your body.

“what’s . . this?” he huffs, burly arms stretching over each edge of the sofa. you looked so pretty, eyeing him up and down as he does the exact same to you.

the luminescent lights started to beam on you now, highlighting your curves and entire physique.

“lie back,” you murmur, slowly sashaying toward him. geto runs a hand through his hair, his dick twitching from the cool air wafting against it. you teasingly drag a finger down the scarred middle line of his bare-puffed chest, stopping at a hardened row of his brick-made abs. “i wanna try your little routine.”

“yeahh?” geto snickers, sucking in a sharp breath once you spin around, bending all the way over. the helmet that was still on your head—you put it back on him, watching him scoff at your audacity.

so you stole his profession now, great.

as you’re turned the other way, you slowly wriggle your ass in front of him, putting a hand over your sopping pussy and he kisses his teeth. “tch. don’t tease, sweetheart,” and geto’s allured stare fixates on you the entire time. his dilated irises frantically roamed around every and any part of your body like a laser. “fuck,” he grunts, watching you finally make your way on his lap.

geto’s all submissively underneath you—bare ‘n exposed with his poor tip flushed. its color was a sheeny carmine red that’s akin to a ripe cerise rose.

a few dried up splotches of cum stick near his weighty sides before he shudders. your ass sits on his flaccid dick before you start to move.

slowly,

you’re rutting into him—just like he was to you, grinding back and forth. geto looks so pretty though, underneath you. he’s still panting a bit, sweating bullets as you tease him with your crazed hips.

you weren’t at his level quite yet, but fuck could you move. geto groans, feeling your sloppy pussy rub off against his dick. you were so close to his tip that his foreskin would peel back a bit. “do you wanna touch me?”

touché..

geto narrows his eyes at you as you tease him, repeating his exact words from what he said to you earlier.

he doesn’t just touch you, he fucks you—

but in this case . . you fuck him.

geto holds back a moan as he’s watching his claret-colored cockhead disappear between your sappy folds. it’s like a magic trick, and with a ‘poof!’ half of length vanished within you.

you let off a soft shrilling whine, trying to writhe yourself around his length.

his dick was fat. ‘eyes-rolling-tongue-lolling-drag-your-nails-down-his back-’ type of fat.

and his girth only made things ten times more intense. you felt him rearranging your guts within each prolonged inch you took – literally.

you’re as slow as a snail with the way you try to take him wholly. even as you’re gingerly sinking your bare ass down with his cock snug ‘n deep inside you, he easily kisses against your g-spot.

it’s happening already, and you don’t even realize he’s fully in before a cooing whimper rawly snatches from the back of your dry esophagus. “oh fuck,” you huff, tossing your arms around the dark haired man.

geto’s got the same wide-eye-jaw-dropped reaction to you, and with one arm snaking around your waist—another’s tightly gripping onto your right ass cheek.

he spanks it, giving it a short squeeze afterward. your chest starts to heave in quickened intervals, and once he feels you starting to move it’s game fuckin’ over..

“god, pussy’s ‘ta die for,” he groans, eyes sexily rolling back until his sockets show nothing but white.

you had him whipped, and he can hear your cunt trying to have a word of its own, squelching out cute gargled squelches. you start to ride him at a mere hypnotic rhythm—and geto’s a lot more vocal now.

with his adam’s apple bobbing, both hands of his were now gripping onto your waist now. piles of money surround you too, a few sticking against his sweaty beefy thighs. “fuck me,” he grunts, and it’s more like he’s begging.

geto locks eyes with you, shaggy long bangs running past his eyes before he securely grabs your hips—trying to keep up pace with you. “mhm, thaaa’s it. ride it, ride . . the shit out of me, uuughhh.”

“ ‘m trying,” you moan, biting your lip each time his swollen cockhead plummets its way deep.

he’s just so big—you couldn’t wrap your head around how a guy could be so damn big.

the good kind of big, and each time he’d seep a single girthy inch into you, your stomach would churn like butter. he’s in sooo deep, your legs could barely support yourself anymore and he had to hold you steady.

as he pulls you all the way down, geto reaches waaay inside of your sloppy gripping cunt that’s oh-so desperate to wring him like a vice.

his thick cock greets your pretty fleshy cervix, mimicking a soft ‘knock’ before introducing itself with a welcoming pound.

he holds your hips, pumping himself into you again, and again, until your pussy remembered each stroke, each thrust, each fuckin’ letter of his name—front to last..

slow but fucking deep.

you gasp, clinging onto his neck before soft hurried pants of ‘yeah, yeah’ ‘s scurry past your glossed lips.

geto’s dewy eyes were half lidded and he’s never felt more pussy drunk in his life. trust—he’s had his fair share of women but oh, you were far different. it was something about you, and he just wanted more after each carnal second passed.

you’re so into his dick givin’ your pussy a fuck of a lifetime that you don’t even realize your hand was now wrapped around his thick neck. not too tight, but geto’s reaction time was slow also. once he realizes seconds after you did, he sheepishly scoffs before slyly humming.

“goddd, y’r so fuckin’ hot when you choke me,” he purrs, tugging at the panties that pull to the side of your thighs. of course he’d enjoy it, and as his dick’s still massaging your gummy walls, he moans. “harderrr.”

“don’t be greedy,” you mumble, burying your knees into his bulky thighs.

the way you rocked against him was hypnotic—and geto’s hands remain on your waist.

you nearly shudder, feeling the various cold bands of his rings run and tickle down your skin. he’s in love with your body, and even more in love with the way you feel from the inside.

leaning in close until you’re just inches away from his spit-slicked lips, your thumb runs its way down the bulging ball that lies inside his throat. “say ‘pretty pleaseee.’ ”

“tsk,” geto scowls, and even with a pout he’s effortlessly attractive. your hips continued to champion its way up ‘n down at a deranged pace as you moved, and his cock’s pumping you full over and over and over. with a vexed grunt, he utters. “pretty please, choke me harder.”

leaning in to kiss the side of his mouth, you whisper a crooning, “good boy,” and geto whines the moment you add a bit more pressure around his neck.

his hair’s all in his face, and your ass was just ruthless.

ferociously slamming down onto his stout cock, you’re drenching him from the base down with your syrup-coated slick. a bit of your own sloppy arousal glues against the pried apart crevices of your thighs—pasting against his as well.

it’s a mess, and with how close he was getting, he was about to create an even bigger one..

geto felt like he was ascending—and with how you were riding him, it didn’t take him long before he’s close again.

yet this time—so were you, and you could recognize the feeling all too well. geto’s cock stretched you to capacity, and he grabs the few dollar bills that scatter on the sofa, throwing it at your body whilst you rode him. he makes it rain on you, spanking your ass with a crumbled up hundred rubbing against your stung skin.

“fuck, ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum again,” he grunts in your ear, feeling your pace accelerate by a mile. you were draining him, preparing to milk him and the thought of him stuffing your cunt full made you pulse.

your tongue salivated at just imagining it..

the warmth, the stickiness, the way it’d spill between your thighs. you’re moaning out sweet noises yourself as you both rut into each other at a demented overzealous pace. geto’s thick thighs clench—and while you’re letting out cute blubs of his name on repeat until it’s the only syllables your dumb brain could register—he pulls you close. “ngh, same time, pretty girl. cum with me, let’s make a . . hah, mess together.”

“okay,” you mewl out, both hips pivoting in lascivious unison.

both sweaty mounds of flesh blissfully bounce into at other and each squelch makes you whimper out in ecstasy.

you cup geto’s pecs, smearing a thumb over his pierced nipples and he whines instantly. you lean in to suck against the bars that slash through his tender areola. geto leans back manspread, growling out husky, ‘fuuuuck!’ ‘s as you hum, giving both his nipples its few seconds of attention.

it lasts for seconds that felt like years, and one you pull away he lets out a cute blasé huff.

as your cunt’s in the midst of overflowing—your hips tremor once more time before within milliseconds, you both cum.

it’s quick..

and with your jaw dropping and geto’s shoulders fatally sagging after his big, heavy sigh—he starts to fill you up ounce after ounce.

it’s patching hot, and the second he’s beginning to spill ‘n dump out his perfect ivory ribbons of cum inside of you, you grunt out a melodic finishing, “fuuuck.”

swinish, weak hands grab at your ass as you come undone also—whimpering soft defeating babbles from the sensitive feeling of your cunt spasming right between your jittery numb legs.

you feel static … shock, electricity pulsing through your veins all at once. your entire body was turning haywire. as you start to grow limb right with geto underneath you—nirvana runs through each individual axon on your body before you hear a loud ‘pop.’

it’s more of a sopping squishing sound, and you were so dumbed down from his dick that you didn’t even realized how full you were..

peeking down, he filled you to the brim. wads and wads and wads of cum went inside of you and you moan, spreading your ass apart while craning your neck around just to see for yourself.

“ ‘m so full, suguru,” you pant, sliding a thumb down your sputtering cunt that’s plugged with both his cock and his thin oozing seed. you lick your lips before turning back towards geto and he’s absolutely fucked stupid.

you rode him so good to the point where he’s just stammering out inaudible whines. it’s cute, and you lean in to kiss him once more.

oh.. he was hooked.

he deepens with a few clingy hands feeling at your chest. the kiss gets more passionate rather than sloppy, and as he’s still buried inside of your cunt—he slowly starts to trail butterfly kisses down your neck. you moan, turning your head before you pull away. “shit, i almost f- forgot.”

“forgot what?” he hoarsely rasps, watching you unalign yourself, plopping down on the sofa with a big content sigh.

geto leans in, allowing his thumb to draw circles around your hips before you reach in for your purse, pulling out another decorated vip pass.

sheepishly, you utter. “my friends bought me two sessions with two dancers. so i have another one after you,” and you glance at the clock, squinting before you let off a bashful titter. “. . . oh, that was way past thirty minutes.”

“who? what dancer, sweetheart?” geto utters with a pout. he was still aching, already missing his you felt from the inside. he watches as you squint at your pass that reads the dancer’s stage name and / or full name on the back.

“uhh, it says t—”

“she means me,” and the both of you spin heads, ogling at the glittery red carpet and decorated pathway that was once covered up.

you could hear geto that laid beside you muttering out a jealous, ‘fuck,’ as you meet the other dancer’s gaze.

he’s wearing a leopard thong with an added on accessory of the most smuggest grin you’ve ever seen.

a slashed scar runs down the right side of his crooked curved lips and you spot bills sticking at both sides of his halfway on thong that nearly shows his sharp hips before he hums.

“name’s toji,” and you’re suddenly being lifted up by strong, tatted brawny arms before he turns around, winking at a very pissed of geto before trodding out the private room with you in his arms.

“i’ll take it from here,” and feral green eyes with an even more feral grin. “ain’t that right, birthday girlll?”

[butchjesus]

if you are comfortable doing so please rb with your gender and/or sexuality and what you voted for (or which ones you would've if you could pick multiple) 👁👁 I am very curious

(edit: turning off reblogs bc this got waaay more attention than I expected, thnks for voting & sharing tho ! u can still leave replies if u want instead of tagging)

[endless-ineffabilities]

Aaaand, CUT! (a Chemical Override minishot)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: I've been watching a ton of The Office bloopers, which inspired this random little thing. This is set waaay back in part 1. Oh, the good ol' days.

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Ewan and the reader film a promo spot for season 2. They try to, at least.

The press day in Paris had been going smoothly for the most part. At least, that was how it seemed. You hoped that you have been able to act smooth, so to speak, having to sit in close quarters with a guy who can make your heart race a mile a minute, and all he has to do is turn those blue eyes in your direction. 

You and Ewan were halfway through your schedule of interviews and promo. But by the time the crew set up for the next clip—a quick promotional spot—you both were running on caffeine and shared inside jokes. 

You couldn’t believe you were sharing private quips with Ewan (Aemond himself!) but you found it easy to get lost in your dynamic. These were the kind of jokes that only made sense after hours and hours of interviews, with lights glaring in your faces and scripted answers rolling off your tongues like a broken record. 

You stood next to him, the House of the Dragon logo projected on a screen behind you. The task was simple: introduce yourself and tell the audience to watch House of the Dragon Season 2 on Max. Fifteen seconds, tops.

But you two had already spiraled into a fit of laughter in the last three takes. 

Somehow, saying the line together, “Go and watch House of the Dragon Season 2, only on Max,” had become the hardest thing in the world.

“Alright, let’s try this again,” the director said, sounding more tired than frustrated. “From the top.”

Ewan turned to you, his lips twitching. “Bet you crack first, darling.”

Your mouth fell open in faux indignation. “Shush. I got this.”

“Let’s see, shall we?” His gaze dropped briefly to your lips before he straightened up, ready to go.

The red light on the camera flicked on, and the cameraman waved a hand as a signal for you to begin.

You barely had time to shoot Ewan a warning glance before you introduced yourself. 

He followed smoothly, “And I’m Ewan Mitchell.”

It was going fine. Smooth, even. So professional.

Until you reached the part where you had to say the final line in unison.

“Go and watch House of the Dragon Season 2, only on—” Ewan dropped his voice an octave, dragging out “Max” in an over-the-top baritone that sent you over the edge.

“Pffft—shit!” you snort uncontrollably. “What was that?” You pressed a hand to your mouth, trying desperately to keep it together, but it was too late.

Take, ruined.

“What?” Ewan crumbles into laughter, his low chuckle infectious.

The director sighed heavily. “Cut!”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, wiping at the tears forming in the corners of your eyes. “We’re never going to get through this.”

Ewan leaned in, ducking his head to whisper, “You’re adorable when you laugh.”

“Stop it,” you shot him a look. Act cool. “You’re distracting me on purpose.”

“Stop what?” he smirked. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Right. Some help you are,” you said sarcastically, though the warmth in his gaze made it impossible to stay serious for long.

“Come on, focus,” he teased, nudging your arm with his elbow. “We’ve got a job to do here.”

“Maybe you should focus,” you retorted, arching an eyebrow. “You’re the one who keeps messing up with that ridiculous voice.”

He laughed again. “What can I say? I thought we needed some extra charm.”

You gasp playfully. “Is that your subtle way of telling me I don’t possess enough charm?”

“Oh, darling,” he said, “I could never say that to you.”

You clear your throat. “Mhmm… okay, well—”

His smirk stayed right in place, as he leaned back coolly.

“Alright, guys, one more time,” the director called out. “Please, just this one. Action.”

You stood a little straighter, determined to get it right this time, then recited your line. 

“... and I’m Ewan Mitchell.”

Together, you spoke in unison. “Go and watch House of the Dragon Season 2, only on—”

But this time, Ewan leaned in just a fraction, whispering right at the end of the line, “Max... or maybe just come watch it with me?”

His breath was warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You lost it completely.

“Oh my god, stop,” you gasped between fits of laughter, swatting at his arm. “Ewan, you can’t say that!”

The director groaned from behind the camera, clearly on the verge of giving up. “Alright, five minutes, people. Just take a breather.”

You were still laughing as you walked off the set, shaking your head in disbelief. “We’re never going to get this done.”

Ewan followed you, his grin softening into something more intimate as he glanced your way. “Maybe we could be stuck here all day together. Would that really be so bad?”

Your breath hitched slightly. He wasn’t looking at you like he was joking anymore. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words got tangled up somewhere between your brain and your throat.

Thankfully, the crew called you both back for another take before things could get any more complicated.

Once again, you took your places under the lights. You made the mistake of catching Ewan’s eye, and the memory of his earlier teasing flooded back, making it impossible to keep a straight face.

Ewan raised his eyebrows at you, as if daring you to start laughing again.

“Don’t you dare,” you whispered through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to laugh.

“I didn’t say anything,” he said, his lips twitching.

“You’re thinking it.”

He chuckled under his breath, his voice low. “I was thinking of something else entirely.”

Your cheeks burned. Before you could even process what he meant, the camera started rolling again.

You took a deep breath and said your line without a hitch.

Ewan jumped in, his voice perfectly smooth and serious this time. “And I’m Ewan Mitchell.”

Together, you said, “Go and watch House of the Dragon Season 2, only on Max.”

You made it. You actually made it through the line.

The director hurriedly shouted a relieved, "Aaaand, CUT!" then added, "Holy shit, you two—with all that flirting, I'm amazed we made it this far today."

[pick-me-up-im-scared]

heyy loveee !!

I don’t know if this is super weird, but yk what a hurricane shot is ? I was thinking maybe bartender!ellie giving a hurricane shot to reader. (and smut in bar bathroom maybe ??) hmm idk, js an idea!

What Can I Get For You, Cutie? (Ellie Williams x Reader) (Smut)

⚠️Warning!⚠️: This story contains smut, slapping and consumption of alcohol

Words: 3501

It was all your friends idea. You didn’t even know what it was. But based on their unstoppable giggles you should have known. You made your way through the packed club, being waaay closer to people than you wanted to, before finally making it to the bar. You let out a sigh as you placed your hands on the countertop, as if to compose yourself. Despite the few shots you’ve taken before this the nerves still crept up on you. You eyed the girl you’ve been gushing over the whole night as she prepared a drink for a girl who barely looks old enough to get in. You found it odd and you couldn’t help but wonder if she got in thanks to a successful fake ID. But you soon shook the thought out of your head. Who are you to wonder about that? Are you the police? Your eyes went back to the bartender who worked her skilled hands behind the desk. Grabbing different utensils before neatly putting them back in place. Despite the busy and noisy environment she kept her focus, zeroing in on the cocktail glass in front of her. She’s experienced. You stretched over the countertop a little more, just so you could see her slender fingers grasping the tequila bottl-

“Hey, (y/n)!” was announced loudly behind you before a hand was placed on your shoulder. You jumped at the unexpected touch, but relaxed when you turned around to see Bailey, one of the people who forced you out tonight. Also, your best friend since middle school. It’s one of those friendships that would have never happened if you hadn’t met each other when you were 9. Growing up you kinda chose different paths in life, and if it wasn’t for you magically choosing the same collage you’re pretty sure you’d never see her again.

“Hey!” Bailey yelled, getting the gorgeous girl behind the bar’s attention. Her pretty emerald eyes made eye contact with your friend, almost making you jealous cause you wish you would have the pleasure of looking into them. “She wants to order once you’re done!” she said while pointing at you, giving away one of her charming smirks. You quickly got pulled out of your trance and widened your eyes in terror. “Nonononono!” you felt the embarrassment creeping up on you as you tried to waft away her hand. Somehow the thought of the pretty girl not knowing you'd ever existed seemed more pleasing than having your friend get her attention as if you're a kid who can´t make an order for themselves.

But the bartender looked you over before giving you a little smirk followed by a nod to assure she heard Bailey’s statement. You hid your face in your hands as you slowly hunched over the bar desk that smelled of spilled alcohol. You're pretty sure you're hair soaked up a worthy of $90 of drinks, but you couldn´t care less. The embarrassment of looking at the perfect girl after this interaction was way more horrible. Bailey just chuckled at your act. She knew you hated stuff like this, but she’s pretty sure you’ll thank her after. “Good luck, (y/n)” she whispered in your ear before giving you a friendly back dunk, harder than usual. “Ow!” you threw out as you looked back at her making her way to the rest of the group again.

“What can I get for you, cutie?” you turned around to be met with one of the pretties smiles you've ever seen. Even thought it´s used to drain your bank account you can´t help but feel a little giggly inside. She placed her hands on the worktop in front of her as she leaned in, waiting for your order. All while wearing that smirk that´d make you throw your credit card at her. You lost the ability to think for a second. If anyone asked for your name you're not sure you´d be able to give it. She´s even more gorgeous up close. Freckles decorated her face and the glimes of the décolletage behind the button up shirt. You sure got a thing for freckles, but the girls you've hooked up with before couldn´t even compare. Seeing all the things you couldn´t from the distance before would keep you busy for days. Being able to point out all the things that made her unique while combing your fingers through her shoulder-length, auburn hair would be the dream. She even got a cut in her eyebrow! Like the one every lesbian guide tells you to get. Except this one looks like a real scar, which makes it 10x hotter. You're willing to risk it all for a girl you don´t even know the name of.

“Hi” you nervously laughed, “I, uhm….I would like a….”. Ellie found you absolutely adorable as you stumbled over your words, while you wanted to bash your head open on the fucking desk in front of you! She made sure to keep a soft expression while patiently waiting for you to get your order out. She’s no new to nervous costumers, though she more often come across more cuddly people who has a hard time standing up by themselves. Patience is key when you have a costumer who’s having a hard time getting their words out. Little does she know her face is the exact reason you're stubbling over your words like a fucking moron. “…..a hurricane shot, please”.

Considering Ellie's been kinda wishing you’d come over and make an order all night she almost thought her mind was playing a trick on her. She payed attention to you pretty early. Whenever the bar was rather slow she’d steal a few glances at you. Searching the room for your cute face. Usually everyone in this type of surrounding looks kinda the same, but something about your body language caught Ellie's attention. She could bet money you're not the one who came up with the idea to come here. Your uncomfortable and displeased manner sure made Ellie crack a smile. You seemed so out of place and somehow that amused her. Despite not thinking you'd stay more than 30 minutes she still hoped you'd made an order. Just so she could get the chance to interact with you. So hearing you order that made her think you could read her mind. But you looked innocent enough to not mean it in that way.

Guys would usually order a hurricane shot when they thought the bartender was super hot. Probably a weird degrading kink or something. You had made it very clear you found the bartender really attractive from the second you laid your eyes on her. And your friends insisted on you taking the next order, specifically asking for said shot. You had never heard of it before, but you’re open to try anything. Ellie´s questionable expression made you think she hadn´t heard you over the blasting music. But before you could repeat your last sentence, an octave higher this time, she asked with a chuckle “Are you sure?"

You nodded, though your mind was hesitant. What the fuck could this be if even the bartender seems hesitant? A mixture of all their strongest liquor? Ellie lets out another chuckle as she shakes her head in disbelief, mumbling "As you wish". She placed a shot glass in front of you on the desk, effortlessly grabbing the vodka bottle to fill it up. Once she´s done she turns around to grab a water glass and fill it up from the tap. Your eyebrow frowned, but you assume you have to trust the progress. But the wrinkles remained when she placed the untouched glass of water beside the shot. "There you go!" Ellie announced, sliding the two glasses closer to you. The gears in your head were working hard. Is this it? A vodka shot and a useless glass of water? Or is this some type of inside joke? What am I suppose to do first? Drink the shot or the water? Or is it one of those submarine ones where you’re supposed to drop the shot into the glass? Then what’s the point of the shot?

You reached over and grabbed the small glass with the strong liquor. As you did you notice Ellie making her way around the bar, on her way to....you. You widened your eyes and quickly looked down at your lap. You could feel her presence beside you, but you didn’t dare look her way. Thought you did pay attention to the black, beat up converse right beside your barstool. An awkward silence took over. Despite the loud music you could hear the cartoon crickets. Ellie waited another few seconds before breaking the silence “Sooo…are you gonna do it?”. “Ehm….I-I actually don’t-.....I don´t know what to do“ you finished with an awkward laugh. Why did you even get an order you knew nothing about? This is the last time you'll agree on something Bailey says.

Ellie was a little surprised by your statement, but it reassured her prediction you hadn’t come up with the order yourself. Someone told you to. A quick glance over her shoulder left no questions about it. Your friend group could barely contain their laughter as they watched the interaction between you two. Ellie shifted her attention back on you again. Your unsure eyes eyeing your recent order made you look so lost, so….innocent.

“Ellie!” both of you shot your head in the direction of the girl’s voice. “Hurry up! You need to come back and take up more orders” her stressed out coworker complained. Ellie? So that’s her name. “Yeah, yeah, I’m on it” she replied with a not so joyful tone, but it quickly switch when she turned back to you. "Do you, uhm......do you want me to tell you what it is?" Ellie could feel her usual confidence slowly wash off. Something about you didn´t just make her feel hot. It made her feel...nervous. She felt too much sympathy for you to just slap you across the face without warning. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to not do it! To just give you the shot as it is and claim you've got a hurricane shot. But considering your friends close eye on you she didn’t want to be called in by her boss and be yelled at for not doing a correct order. She’s here to do her job, take up orders and make sure the costumers are satisfied.

“Ellie! Just do it!” the other bartender once again interrupted, stressing Ellie even more. She let out a sign before handing you the shot glass, guiding you to take it. You do as informed, a little shocked at the touch of her skin on yours. It took everything in you not to make a face when the strong liquor hits your tastebuds, but you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of Ellie. Not more than you already have.

Ellie hesitantly grabbed the glass of water on the counter, shaking more than she should. She gave you a quick glance before throwing it your way. The cold water hits you right in the face, ruining any chances of your makeup still looking good considering the sweaty bar atmosphere. The couple sitting behind you turned around after feeling some of the droplets hitting them too. You let out a surprised gasp, louder than it would have been if you could have controlled it. But you didn’t have much time to think before you felt a sudden sting on your left cheek. Despite Ellie holding back as her hand meets your rosy face it still was a proper slap. And the water didn’t make it any better, just adding onto the burning feeling.

Oddly enough it felt like the whole bar had stopped at the sound of the smack. Of course that wasn’t the case, the music was still loud enough to be heard 6 blocks away. But you’re sure a few people turned their heads to look. You on the other hand were in complete shock. Your jaw was hanging low, eyes looking like they might fall out any second. And Ellie’s face was no different, though she tried to keep it professional. You were both completely frozen. You raised your hand and softly graced your abused cheek. The sting made you flinch a little, and you’re sure Ellie saw it cause her eyes switched from shock to utter pity. But before she was able to reach out and help you whip away the mascara that’s currently making streaks down your cheeks the same girl who’s been stressing her grabbed her by the arm and janked her back behind the bar. Thought Ellie’s eyes never let you. Baliey came running down with one of the other girls to help you down from the barstool. Ellie couldn’t hear what she told you, but based on her expression she seems thrilled, in comparison to you. A lump in her stomach started to form and a huge wave of guilt hit her like a wave. But she’s quickly forced back into the stressful tempo of being a bartender.

The leather seat felt nice as Bailey crashed you down beside her on her previous spot. Another one of the girls, Nathalie, come running with a bundle of paper towels. Bailey grabbed them one by one as she tried to dry you up without having too much of your makeup coming off with it. While the third girl, Lindsay, tried to dry up the remains of the water from your hair and clothes. “So……” Bailey began “Did you like it?”. You gave her a death stare that was enough to draw out an amused laugh from her. But matter of fact the wet stain in your underwear has been bothering you ever since Ellie’s hand left your cheek. But you couldn’t let Bailey know that. “Next time, don’t bring me into one of your weird kinks” you playfully said while rolling your eyes. Lindsay chuckled while throwing another crunched up paper towel in the near by trash can. Bailey smirked “But you thought she was hot, right?”. You nodded your head, looking up as she tried to correct the smudge eyeshadow on your lower lash line.

When the girls was done helping you to look as representable as possible with the circumstances everyone went back to their previous conversation. Almost like they completely forgot about the event that had just taken place. But you sure didn´t. How could you? The hottest girl you've ever seen had just slapped you across your face. You´d never tried anything like this before, but if Ellie were the one doing it you'd gladly take another round.

You made sure to sneak a few glances at the bar, not long enough to catch any of your friends attention. You could see Ellie effortlessly move around behind the desk, looking like she was built for the job. Her coworker whispered something in her ear that made her burst out in laughter. Oh my god, she’s perfect. As she continued to put the clean drink glasses in the rack her eyes locked with...you. You quickly turned your head towards your friend group, pretending as if you´d been apart of their conversation the whole time. Ellie chuckled for herself at your cute act. She couldn´t believe you still had problem looking her in the eyes after your latest exchange. The guilt was still there, though it looks like you’d repaired pretty well. She turned around to grab another batch of the glasses from the dishwasher that Sophie, her coworker for the night, had brought over to her. But when she spun around she´s met with a familiar pair of eyes that had issues looking into hers.

You nervously played with your fingers under the desk as you tired to not embarrass yourself any further. "I, um.....can I have another one?" you asked with a hesitation. Ellie smirked "Another what?". She was 99% sure she knew what you referred to, but she wanted you to say it. You took a deep breath, pushing away any nagging thoughts "A hurricane shot. Can I get another hurricane shot?". She could see her imprint starting to form on your chubby cheek. Ellie gave you another smirk before saying "How about you save your money and hold on for second?". You gave her a confused look but mumbled a "Okay". She nodded as if to reassure herself, "Good! I'll be right back!". You observed as Ellie mumbled something to Sophie before making her way to the back. Still confused you tried to build an idea of what she was up to.

After a few minutes a pair of hands grabbed onto your shoulders, making you jump. You thought it was either Bailey who had spotted you and now knew you had lied about going to the bathroom, or a creep who tried to make a move on you. But neither of them were right, cause the face that met you when you turned around belong to the bartender who´s got you wrapped around her finger. "Hi" she said while giving you another one of her charming smiles. God, just take my card and clear it already! "Hey" you answered with a nervous giggle. She didn´t waste another second before grabbing your wrist and drag you past the dance floor. She tried to avoid mixing DNA with the dedicated dancers that filled the floor.

You looked down at her hand firmly holding onto your wrist and saw a tattoo wrapped around her forearm that you somehow hadn´t noticed before. “Wait, where are we going?” you confusedly asked while trying to keep up with her footsteps. She glanced back at you before answering “You wanted to get slapped again, right? Or did you like the taste of the vodka shot so much you had to get another one?”. You made a face at the memory of the aftertaste that Ellie was able to see before turning her attention forward again. "No, you're right" you admitted while feeling your cheeks starting to heat up. “Right. So I’m just doing my job” she shrugged. Your heart skipped a beat at the realization. "Wait, wait, wait. I-I don´t even know your name". Lie. You sucked up that information the second her coworker said it the first time. But you didn't want to admit you'd payed such close attention to it. "Ellie” she said nonchalantly “My name is Ellie”. “Well, nice to meet you, Ellie. My name is-“ “(y/n). I know” Ellie interrupt. You were confused “Your friend said it pretty loud. I’m not sure anyone in this club missed it”. You laughed, she’s pretty funny too.

As the toilets came in view you could feel your nerves starting to freak out. Ellie opened the door to one of the unoccupied toilets while gesturing with her hand for you to go in “Ladies first”. You made your way into the cramped up booth, but before you got the chance to open your mouth Ellie spun you around and crashed her lips on yours. She quickly pulled away and a deep shade took over her face "I´m sorry, I´ve been wanting to do that all night, but maybe you-" you put your lips on hers to make her shut up. You found it rather amusing how you were the one stumbling over your words, but now she's the one being nervous. "I´ve wanted this too, Ellie. I´ve been eyeing you this whole night" you reasured her. "Yeah, I´ve noticed that" she added with a cocky smirk as her hand slide up your skirt.

You playfully hit her on the shoulder "I´m not the one slapping people in the face!". "You were the one ordering it!" Ellie quickly defended herself. "Yeah, yeah" you mumbled "Now come over here. I wanna see what those talented fingers can do". “Yeah? Oh, I’ll show you just how talented they are” she added while sliding her hand underneath your underwear. A cocky smile took over her face when her fingers met your mess “You really like being slapped, huh?”. You rolled your eyes and hit her on the shoulder again. She didn’t waist any more time before slowly sliding in her middle finger in your wet hole. You let out a satisfied moan, not believing this is actually happening. Ellie pays close attention to your blissful face as she moves her finger in a steady pace. “One more. Please, one more”, she quickly lined up another one of her fingers to your entrance before pushing it in. The stretch was everything you looked for, so when Ellie’s knuckles meet your wet folds your eyes uncontrollably rolled to the back of your head.

You took a steady grip on the color of her white shirt as she continued to slide her slender fingers into you. “Fuck, Ellie!” You moaned, letting your head hit the graffiti covers wall. Your jaw was slack as all sorts of sounds left your mouth for anyone in the bathroom to hear. And that’s when it happened. A slap to your left cheek made your eyes shot right open to land on Ellie’s concentrated face. The same hand then grabbed a hold on your face as she force you closer to hers. “Who knew you were such a slut, huh? Getting this needy from a hurricane shot” she mumbled close to your face. You let out a whine before desperately grabbing onto her outwashed, black jeans. But her hand leaves your face to stop you from pulling down her zipper. “I don’t have much time, pretty. I need to get back out there. So let’s focus on you. I know you’ve been uncomfortable for long enough with such a mess in your panties”.

[vinvantae]

for the bringing the f1 grid to a nascar request!! would u do george, lewis, charles, and lando? thank u sm!!

Okay so I know nothing, nada, zilch about NASCAR so I turned to my fave American @formulaforza who wrote some prompts for me. Thank you Mackie 😘 x

Got a little carried away with George at the end ����

*************************************

Lewis

When you suggested taking Lewis to NASCAR, you expected him to turn his nose up - the sport just wasn’t as refined and delicate as Formula 1. But he was ecstatic, and within days a paddock pass was draped into your lap. He wanted to get up and close and personal with the action before the race, have you close by his side as he listened to overcomplicated lectures from members of the team.

And when the race finally started, he was enthralled- shouting louder than you think you’d ever heard him as the cars fought on track. Cheering and whooping, the brightest of smiles on his face as he leant down to whisper - well shout with how loud it was - into your ear.

“This is brilliant! We should do this more often!”

You grinned at him and playfully smacked the brim of his cap. “If I had known you’d be such a NASCAR nut I would’ve bought you waaay sooner!”

“It’s definitely our thing now.”

The two of you shared one more playful grin before turning your attention back to the track - just in time to see two cars wipe each other out and gasp with the crowd.

Charles

“It's not too dissimilar to F1.” You explained, as the two of you climbed the steps of the grandstands to find your seats. “Friday is practice, Saturday is qualifying and Sunday is the race.”

“Yeah but… we don’t do hundreds of laps.” He frowned, “What did you say this was, 200 laps?”

“Yeah, this one is, but some are up to 400. But it’s in stages.” You hummed softly, bursting out laughing when you caught the shocked look on his face - the most laps in F1 being at his home circuit, a measly 78. “You’ll understand it, love I promise.”

He looked at you with wide eyes, nodding - still as confused as before. You linked your fingers with his. “Okay, so the first two stages are 65 laps long - the top 10 get points. Winner gets 11, 2nd 9, 3rd 8 etc… the winner of the third stage gets 40, and all the way down to 40th gets points. Well most of the time”

“Wait Forty? How many cars are there?”

“Forty. They all get points in the 3rd stage. 36 of them are reserved for drivers of teams that own charters.”

His eyes flickered across your face. “I don’t think I’m ever going to fully understand this… but if it’s important to you I’ll give it a go.”

“Thank you baby. You’ll have fun, I promise.”

Lando

“What are you doing, Lan?”

You watched with a playful smile as your boyfriend stood up to peer over the track into Victory Lane. “…I was kind of hoping we’d see a fist fight or two. I was told people are always fighting each other.”

“Not always.” You laughed, tugging at his wrist. “Sit down. Besides, they’ve gotta race first, you idiot. They need a reason to fight each other.”

He whined softly, plonking down in the seat beside you - resting his head on your shoulder. “Are the fights good?”

“Oh yeah, sometimes people do shit during races too - like this guy hit someone else and took off most of his door so when the guy came back around he literally threw the door at him.” You hummed, squeezing his thigh. “I hope there’s a fight just for you.”

His smile alone was worth it. “Hell yeah.”

George

“Georgie, are you even paying attention?” You whined softly, using the tip of your finger to redirect your boyfriend’s longing gaze back towards the track.

“Sorry, darling, you’re just very distracting.” He teased softly, looping his arm around your middle so he could haul you closer. “What did I miss?”

“Depends, how long were you staring at me?” Your voice had a teasing lilt.

His cheeks flushed a little. “…uh, longer than I care to admit. Fill me in?”

George watched as you explained, gestating wildly and pointing to the cars on the track - and he found himself getting lost in you again. Although most… all of it was going straight over his head, he loved how passionate you were about it and that was enough.

He blinked a few times when he realised you weren’t speaking anymore, your brow raised. “…what did I just say, George?”

“Something about Joey… lasagna?” He winced.

You burst out laughing, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Logano! My god, Russell, I’m going to have to get your ears tested.”

“Love, my ears aren’t the problem.” George pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“I’ll make you a compromise. You name three drivers by the time the race is done - I’ll let you do that thing you’ve been asking for in the bedroom.”

His breath hitched before he pressed another kiss to your lips, this one more intense. “Deal.”

He managed to name all 40, and turns out there was more than one thing he’d been asking for… and who were you to deny him?

[miaoqing]

i really don't know how to feel about fics/aus where it turns out that sj's treatment of lbh is his own fault because he didn't speak up about issues with other disciples, genuinely misbehaved etc and also later (as bingge) lied about how much he actually got punished and in truth it wasn't any more than any other disciple, and that sj didn't know about the fake manual, when all of this is explicitly against canon.

yqy adresses this when sy wakes up, telling sqq to stop being so mean to lbh. in the sj extra, he himself says that lbh should have died a long time ago bleeding from the seven apertures due to the fake manual. sy says that pidw explicitly states that lbh was punished WAAAY more than any other disciple, and in those conditions obviously noone would tell their teacher about being bullied??

idk i understand altering canon for the sake of telling a story but... somehow it feels like a disservice to sj's character to ignore canon and water him down for the sake of making his redemption easier. and villifying lbh, which is what these fics inevitably end up doing, is also messed up - he was around 11 when he joined cqm. that's a CHILD. no matter how you look at it, sqq's "treatment" of lbh is neglect at best, horrible abuse at worst, and in modern times it would put him in jail faster than you could blink. giving him a realistic redemption arc is difficult, if not impossible, but if you truly love him with all his flaws and faults, isn't it worth the effort?

[djarins-cyare]

WIP Wednesday

Well, the Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge deadline is fast approaching, and I’m 6 chapters and 18k words into what has turned into something waaay lengthier than it started out! So sorry, teacher, I think I’m gonna need an extension on my homework deadline.

Meanwhile, throughout September, I’ve been tagged in various WIP posts by @the-mandawhor1an, @burntheedges, @nerdieforpedro, and @for-a-longlongtime (thank you all 💚), so under the cut, you’ll find a little midweek offering of my now somewhat out-of-control Secret Relationship trope fic...

***If you haven’t already, you may wish to read my first WIP post before the one below, as this one references the earlier one.***

“He raised you?” Mando sounds incredulous. “Why is that weird?” He sighs. “It’s not. Well… it might be. Sleeping with the guy’s niece was one thing, but you’re like his kid—” “Stop there,” you demand with steely ferocity. “First, I am not a kid in any sense. I don’t need to see your face to guess you’re not that much older than me. And, like you, I’m an adult and can make my own decisions, so no kid references, please. Second, whatever his reasons are for keeping us apart, they don’t matter because once I leave here, none of this ever happened. Right?” Your mini tirade is met first with silence, then a chuckle. “Has anyone ever told you you’re bossy?” His amusement diffuses your mock indignation, and you smirk. “You kind of have to be when you grow up here. You don’t think you can handle me?” You shift a little closer to him on the couch. “Oh, mesh’la,” he drawls, his voice casual but with a fiendish edge. “I’m a bounty hunter by trade. You think I haven’t dealt with people far wilder than you?” Kriff, yeah. There’s that confidence you saw last night when he indirectly requested an orgasm before you went to bed. Sure, it’s nice to know that there’s a sweet and awkward guy beneath the warrior exterior, but this is what you find attractive in him. The confident, intimidating hunter. You visibly shiver and press your thighs together at the thought, and he chuckles darkly. Yeah, you just gave away your desires. Still, he doesn’t move yet. You feel like he’s waiting to pounce… emphasis on the waiting. “Okay then, Mandalorian,” you goad with your head held high, almost daring him. “Show me what you’ve got.” There’s a pause as he tilts his helmet slightly, and it lingers for long enough that you start to wonder whether you said the wrong thing. You were just keeping up the banter. Why has he suddenly gone silent? A few more moments pass, and your second-guessing becomes mildly frantic. But as you bite your lip and furrow your brow, Mando releases a deep hum and rumbles, “Mm… better.” Suddenly, you realise. This is not a contest of wits, and he’s not in the mood for sexual banter. He wants to be in charge this time. Well, you were in control last night, and he did say he would pay you back. Plus, he’s spent a whole cycle being unable to control anything due to his injuries. It’s becoming clearer how he sees this going. And you’re very much on board. Now that you understand, you try again. Tucking your chin down, you look up at him through your lashes and soften your tone. “Please, Mando…” “Mm, good girl,” he praises, and heat sparks to life in both your chest and your cunt. “Please, what? What do you want?” You think back to the dialogue that led to the blow job. “Please, will you make me come?” At last, he moves, reaching for your lower thigh and running his palm slowly upward, leaving flames in its wake. “My helmet stays on at all times, non-negotiable. If you touch it, this stops, understand?” “I understand.” Apparently, lifting it to help him drink last night was a one-time deal. “Good. Then, yes, cyar’ika, I’ll make you come.”

Tagging the folks who showed interest in my first snippet as well as those on my permanent tag list. Those of you who write/create and would like to share something with the class, please feel free to do any type of WIP post (Wednesday, weekend, weekday, whatever) if the mood takes you, no pressure 💚

@5oh5 @604to647 @almostfoxglove @ashleyfilm @burntheedges

@captainredspade @cheekychaos28 @chiyo13 @cw80831 @dindjarins-big-tiddy-goth-gf

@djarin-desires @djarinmuse @drewharrisonwriter @ella-whyte @evolnoomym

@fhatbhabiee @fromthedeskoftheraven @grogusmum @here-briefly @hillarymurray4

@itsjuststardust @jessthebaker @joelalorian @j-p3g @lahooozaherr

@lark-of-mirkwood @latenightswithmiller @lilac-boo @magpiepills @mandoloriancookie

@mosssbawls @nebulanibbles @nerdieforpedro @newpathwrites @none-of-this-makes-any-sense

@prolix-yuy @roughdaysandart @secretelephanttattoo @sidoniyablackwood @sixhours

@syd-djarin @the-blind-assassin-12 @theetherealbloom @the-mandawhor1an @thundermartini

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@wrathkitty @yopossum @you-give-aspirin-headaches

[rae-and-mezo]

The legacy characters reacting to mc/you kissing them?

A/n: I assumed you meant the first kiss...if I am wrong please let me know! I really liked this one, fluff is my forte. If you guys would like a girls version, let me know! This just got waaay too long lol.

Sebastian Sallow:

Alright. To go in order, he is surprised, flustered, and then overjoyed.

I imagine you're trampling through the woods in search of some potion ingredients. After all, Sebastian despises paying for things he can easily grab from the wild.

So the two of you are searching for a white flower with a blue and pink center. It's harder than it looks but you're having the time of your life being so far away from anyone but each other.

Sebastian thought that maybe this would become a patronus memory. He wasn't wrong!

"There it is!" You exclaim out of nowhere. He turns to see your outstretched hand reaching for a clearing in the cliffs. A cave. The flower is in a small, narrow cave.

Magic is forbidden outside of Hogwarts grounds, and somewhere long ago you had passed the border. So a summoning charm is out of question.

Sebastian hoists you on his shoulders so you can wriggle into the small space. And, of course, you do. There is a small moment of panick where you thought that you might be stuck, but he helped you out smoothly.

Of course, you have to thank him with a kiss. So yeah, you stand on your toes and plant a small kiss on his lips. The two of you had been dating for less than two weeks and you were tired of him not making a move to kiss you.

Unbeknownst to you, he was going to kiss you as a little reward to himself for saving you.

His arms wrapped around your waist and he pulled you closer to him. He wouldn't let you off with ONE kiss!

On the outside he is calm and collected but on the inside, he is so giddy it's almost contagious. The most amazing person at Hogwarts just kissed him? And he's kissing them again? Yeah, he smiles into the kiss and has to bite down a happy giggle.

Ominis gets SUCH an earful that night!!

Ominis Gaunt:

Mans is the definition of "Pining."

Everything you do has him absolutely enamored, willing for more. And when I mean everything, I mean he's listening you tend to a flobberworm with a HUGE grin. But, he never makes a move because, well, you're the hero of hogwarts! Surely you could do better than a blind, cold, Gaunt.

He agreed to spend the afternoon with you in your Vivarium. After all, he loves animals! Maybe not as much as Poppy, but he definitely is in his happy place. Warm grass, sunshine, a Mooncalf laying it's head on his stomach, and most of all, you!

His smile grows impossibly larger once he hears you laugh. "Ominis, he just rolled over! The worm!" There wasn't much incredible about worms in his opinion, but you were excited and that made it worth it.

"That's incredible! Maybe you can train them like dogs!" You flopped down on the grass beside him and smiled at his comment. "I bet I could learn to make leashes for them. Considering they don't have necks, it would be a challenge."

You were close. So close. Was that new perfume? Ominis went into overdrive, subtly scooting away from you. He couldn't stomach the thought of you hearing his heart beat out of his chest after all.

"Ominis?" He craned his head in your direction. Was he blushing? Oh merlin, he hoped not.

"I was just talking about Hogsmeade, are you alright? Usually you jump to go to Honeydukes." Genuine concern laced your voice and he smiled. You always were just too kind.

"Fine, sorry. Go on."

But you were silent. It wasn't until he felt a weight against his arm that he realized you had moved closer.

"Ominis, has anyone told you that you're gorgeous?" You laughed at his guffaw. "No...?"

"You are. Beautiful, even. Handsome if I do say so myself."

Your breath tickled his ear. How fast does a heart have to beat in order to explode? He dreaded to find out.

"MC..." He trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"Can I kiss you?" You offered instead.

His mind was screaming at him to decline, screaming that he would somehow hurt you, but his heart took charge and he found himself nodding.

If he thought you smelled sweet, you tasted sweeter. And he sighed at a gentle kiss. His heart calmed down, everything seemed to calm when you were touching him.

Carefully he placed a hand on the back of your head and pulled you in for another kiss.

As he felt you smile into the kiss, all his worries about not being good enough went away.

You were here, with him, and that's all that matters.

Garreth Weasley

Golden retriever boyfriend!!

Technically (and I use technically very loosely here,) You guys aren't dating.

But he calls you pet names and you kiss his cheek, one of you is always sneaking the other into your dorm for cuddles, and hand holding is almost a second reflex.

So yeah. Other than not being labeled as partners, you guys are dating.

And it's after quidditch that you guys...make it official.

It was the house cup and you both were playing. Whether it be both for Gryffindor or Gryffindor versus your house, the two of you are up in the air.

After not having Quidditch fifth year, it's a warm welcome to be up and fighting for your house!

The game was intense, and you could hear your friends screaming for your victory in the stands.

A large number of people had gathered outside of the pitch as well. The house cup always drew former students back to watch their old house win.

All the attention must have gone to your ego, because you were playing amazing!! Even your rivals were gawking at you. Of course you were good at quidditch before, but the extra attention makes you a superstar!

And so when the snitch is caught and the crowd goes wild, the pure Euphoria washes over you in a wild wave.

You had won, and you had won in a landslide.

Garreth is spotted and you don't think twice before jumping from your broom to his, laughing at his confused expression.

"We won!!" You exclaimed, grabbing onto his shoulders and smiling so wide it hurt. "We won the house cup!"

"I kno-" Garreth is cut off by you grabbing his face by the cheeks and kissing him hard. His face goes almost as red as his hair!

The broom stutters underneath you and he quickly calms it down, grabbing onto your waist and kissing you back just as passionately.

Well, Natty catches you guys, noticing you aren't on the ground celebrating and her laugh is what makes you break apart. With embarrassed glances, the two of you follow Natty back down to the pitch.

Leander Prewitt:

Boy is too confident in his mistakes.

By that, I mean, he asked you on a date to the three broomsticks. It went well and you were feeling all fuzzy...until he tried to kiss you.

Of course you didn't mind being kissed by him but he goes in with all his confidence and smashes his forehead against your nose, causing it to bleed. So he goes to grab a napkin but knocks his chair over and it lands on your foot. Then, picking it up, he bumped into the table and spilled your butterbeer. The hot liquid went right into the woman at the adjacent table's lap.

So, naturally, he helped you stop the bleeding and then he ran. He's been avoiding you since then and your feeble attempts at finding him don't work.

He's...a mess.

Garreth comes and finds you a couple days later and he can't even keep the irritation out of his tone while he tells you that Leander would like to speak to you. Meet him at the DADA tower tonight.

He walks away before you can ask him what time.

You waited for three hours and your annoyance grew by every moment. Of course you didn't blame Leander, Garreth didn't tell you what time! To your knowledge anyway. No, Leander CHOSE not to give a time because he heard Sebastian talking about how feelings intensify after a waiting period.

Welp. Not exactly what he meant, Leander, but okay.

When Leander peeks around the corner, he thinks you don't notice him, but oh boy, you do.

"Can you BELIEVE Garreth didn't give me a time? I have been waiting for three bloody hours! Gah!" You slammed your book shut and stood to face him. "It's okay. What would you like to talk to me about?"

He's too busy mentally beating himself up to answer you immediately. "Oh, uh," He stutters after a few seconds. "I just wanted to say that I am so, so very sorry for how our date went."

"It's not your fault, Leander, don't worry! And Nurse Blainey fixed my nose. No worries."

He still didn't look convinced. Even though you had to stand on your toes, you stood and kissed him lightly on the lips. "It's all alright, Lee."

Okay he malfunctioned. Mans just stopped working.

Slowly his face goes pink and his smile grows. He might be a loser sometimes, but hey. He's your loser.

Amit Thakkar.

So, so Awkward.

Yes, he likes you. Alot. But you don't like him that way, and that's fine! He values your friendship anyway. Well, he thought you didn't like him that way.

Truth be told, you were absolutely smitten with him!

Who doesn't love a handsome and smart, not to mention sweet boy?

The only person who knows this is your best friend, Poppy.

And of course, she is determined to get the two of you together. Because if she heard you ramble on about liking him but knowing he doesn't feel the same one more time, she might just lose it.

So in History of Magic one day, she notices Amit isn't glued to the board. He's scribbling in his notebook, but- wait. He's blushing.

She takes the seat next to him, leaving both you and Amit confused. He's quick to turn the page. This doesn't discourage your friend whatsoever. Instead, she just smiles to herself. When Amit isn't looking, she switches their notebooks and comes back to her normal seat next to you.

"I have something for you."

You can only blink at her. After all, she was acting very strange. "O-okay?"

And she hands you his notebook, flips a page, and wow you are face to face with a page of love poems. Mostly original ones too. Written in your house colors, describing someone who could only be you.

"I told you!!" Poppy hisses at you with a triumphant smirk on her face.

After class, Amit stayed behind to look for his notebook. You stayed behind to give it to him.

"Poppy had this." You can't meet his eyes.

Oh no. He knows what you read.

"Mc! It's not- I didn't mean to- Oh merlin MC, I'm sorry you had to read that."

His face is PALE because he is convinced you think he's weird and want nothing to do with him now.

"No, no, Amit don't apologize! I thought they were incredibly sweet."

Oh great, now they're trying to make him feel better.

"Really, I did." You continued. "I- I have my own Poems actually. I mean I didn't write them myself but I like Poetry. Alot. I guess what I want to say-am trying to say I mean- is that I feel the same way about you."

Amit went from pale to flushed in record time. "You do? I-wow, okay-wow."

An awkward silence filled the room before your enchanted watch dinged, letting you know that you were late to Charms. "I have to go...will you meet me at the Astronomy tower tonight? After dinner?"

He is still blushing as you lean in to kiss his cheek. With a shy half smile you leave the classroom, smiling to yourself. He is left standing in place, a hand over where you kissed his cheek and a shy but ecstatic grin on his face.

[screampied]

𝜗𝜚 ( 6 ) TAPES FOUND BY "SCREAMPIED"

𓉸ྀི an. hi people welcome to my first kinktober event! some things may be scrapped + tweaked or added on but i will try my best to complete them all. make sure to heed each of the warnings before each fic. happy almost spooky season! ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა taglist : closed

𓉸ྀི cw. all “tapes” will contain explicit content and will each be tagged accordingly with their proper warnings.

TAPE ONE — BLOODLINE.

feat. vampires! sukuna ‘n choso + threesomes.

؏  summary. when they’re both 10s but they’re also vampires. hungry blood-thirsty vampires who’ll stop at nothing to claim you. with how sweet you taste, maybe humans aren’t so bad after all.

cw. vampire! au, threesomes, double penetratíon, manhandling, spít-roasting.

RARE TAPE FOUND: MAKE ME JUNO!

feat. sukuna, choso, geto, toji, gojo + breeding / baby fever

؏  summary. when they’re just so find that you’d let them make you juno . . you know.

TAPE TWO — WANNA PLAY PSYCHO KILLER?

feat. ghostface!toji + roleplay / knife play.

؏ summary. you know girl, usually when someone’s about to get stabbed, they scream—not moan. ghostface is supposed to be scary, intimidating, terrifying. but what happens when he’s tall, hot, and has a scar that runs down the right side of his lip? maybe his motive this time was to make you scream out his name in another way. welcome to act three.

cw. slight dacryphilia, glove + mask fetish, manhandling, body worship, corruption kink.

TAPE THREE — THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY.

feat. stripper!geto + dry humping.

؏ summary. the last thing you’d expect for a surprise birthday present by your friends was a visit to a men’s strip club. geto suguru—your dancer’s got it all. tall, handsome, and he wants waaay more than just thirty minutes with you.

cw. switch geto, lap dancing, choking, 69, dry humping, nipple play.

RARE TAPE FOUND: DEATH BY SÉX!

feat. sukuna, choso, geto, toji, sukuna, gojo + overstim.

؏ summary. his fatal cause of death? op – overly pussydrunk. the prime suspect? located right between your pretty legs.

TAPE FOUR — THE GRUDGE!

feat. ex-husband! gojo + hate séx.

؏ summary. perhaps screwing your ex-husband while the kids are out trick-or-treating wasn’t the best but with him, the only treat he wants to trick is not in a basket, it’s right between your legs… boo!

cw. brat taming, hate séx that turns into make-up séx, body worship, brēeding kink.

TAPE FIVE — ERROR..

TAPE SIXX — ERROR..

extras mini-tapes.

nanami rubbing his wedding ring against her.

choso making you sqúirt since you ‘can’t’ finish.

nerd! nanami teaching you anatomy of the clít.

edit: i switched some things out but i might add things later!

filmed by screampied.

[sunandflame]

Can I request headcanons to the hashira or upper moons being called cute by the reader??

Big apologies for taking so long 🙇‍♀️ I will go with the first three Uppermoons since I am not feeling it for the other ones and especially not for Gyokkos fugly ass. Sorry for all his simps, I respect you, but he is just... simply not for me. I am sure there are another amazing writers out there who would gladly write him, but it's unfortunately not me. Sorry 🫣

Uppermoon's being called cute

Warnings: None

Word Count: 359

Pairing: Uppermoon x Fem!Reader

crossposted on AO3

Kokushibo

At first, he would ignore you. Act like he didn't hear it.

But your repeating would force him to react.

And that will make him blatantly stare at you. With his 6 eyes. Trying to intimidate you.

But it fails miserably, since you think he is oh so cute. (I would be intimidated and horny)

You start to cock your head and tell him again with a smile.

A long sigh comes from him. Of course he had heard that he appears dignified and majestic, but not 'cute'.

He comes closer to you, towering you with his height as he lowers his 6 eyes onto you.

"Nobody... dared to call me cute..."

"Well then they are blind."You got balls.

And fortunately, he likes it.

A rare little smile cracks on the corner of his mouth. "You may... accompany me on my next mission..."

Jackpot

Douma

"Kyaa Y/N-chaaaan! You are waaay cuter than me"

He would look at you with his beautiful rainbow eyes that you love so much.

You shake your head. "No, you are cuter"

"No you."

"No you!"

"No you"

"Okay fine we are both very cute"

"No Y/N-chan I still have to disagree. You are a female and they usually provide more nutritions which in turn taste sweeter!"

And while he said that he looked at you a little bit hungrier than usual.

Run.

Akaza

He would first think that he just misheard you.

"Huh?"

You repeated yourself and gave him a sugar-sweet smile.

A surprised look on his eyes while he blinks with his pretty pink eyelashes.

Was that a faint blush on his cheeks?

You tried to get a closer look, but he turned away because you had gotten too close to him.

"Akaza-sama you are even cuter like this!"

"Stop saying things like this!"

"But it's true!"

"Y/N..." His tone was warning.

But you couldn't help but giggle. "Even more cute now"

A sigh as he gave up, the faint blush still on his cheek. "Fine, will you stop calling me like that if I accept it?"

But you only stuck your tongue out at him to tease him even more.

I think you got him.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XIV)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWOis here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here PART EIGHT is here PART NINE is here PART TEN is here PART ELEVEN is here PART TWELVE is here PART THIRTEEN is here and this is part fourteen! Yes I messed it up this morning yes I had to wait all day to correct it it's all goooood

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Bart is a good egg who is having a Bad Time waiting for his friend :(

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Danny wakes up with a gasp.

He’s—where is he? Everything hurts. He can barely think. Danny groans, long and loud, and lifts up an aching hand to his temple.

His fingers come away green. Aw, fuck. What happened to him? What’s going on? Why is his hand…blurry? Is he concussed? Is something wrong with his eyes, or with his head??

(He hopes it’s not his head. It’s waaay easier to heal from one than the other.)

Danny tries to sit up, and— NOPE. Ow. Bad idea. Suuuuuch a bad idea. His arms and hands and his neck and his back are screaming at him, now that he’s awake enough to pay attention. Ughhhhhhhhhhh.

He lays back down. His eyes don’t—well, they don’t shut all the way, which part of his brain labels as very bad, actually, but the world does turn darker and greener as he tries to shut his eyes, and that’s close enough to closing his eyes that Danny can mostly zone out past the pain.

He licks his sore lips. They taste like copper. And battery acid. …And Pixie Sticks.

Ugh, ecto-blood. His own, he assumes.

Everything is blurry and everything kind of hurts and he doesn’t know how he got here or what’s going on. Danny tries to roll over, tries to get more comfortable, but something starts dragging on the inside of his arm, which means intravenous lines.

Ugggghhhh. He hopes it’s got pain meds at least.

Awake him can deal with this later. Danny zones out, his labored breathing evens.

He’s asleep before he knows it.

*

Danny wakes up next to quiet murmuring, and to weird sensation of something moving in his arm.

He yawns—and his jaw cracks apart farther than usual, with more clicking noises than his jaw usually makes. Weird. His arms come up, his eyes unblur…

The tugging sensation doesn’t go away. Danny sniffs blearily. Blinks.

Two white-coated humans(…?) in PPE pause at his bedside, a half-dissembled IV shared between them.

Danny stops breathing. He can’t—is he—

His eyes go to the ceiling. The floor. He doesn’t recognize the room he’s in. He doesn’t understand. Is this the Guys in White again? Is he— Did he never leave? Is he trapped? Danny doesn’t—he can’t—

—One of the white coats starts making worried noises, which. Danny’s never heard that before. It’s usually threats. They raise both their arms, and Danny flinches back—

…And so do they. Huh. Hm. Are the Guys hiring scaredy cats now? That would be a change of pace, if they were as scared of Danny as Danny is of them.

The second person clicks the new IV bag into place. Danny stops focusing on number one and starts focusing on number two.

They don’t make any overt tells either. The IV line is already in him, and the bag is… Well. It’s not red and Danny’s not in any pain, and it’s not green either. It’s just. Kinda opaque? Milky? The person doesn’t start cackling evilly or telling Danny how screwed he is, either. They both just sort of…tidy up?

The first one doesn’t get closer, either, but Danny can mostly tell that they’re scanning him visually. Their attention goes from his face, to Danny’s visible arm, to the puncture point in his elbow for the IV needle.

Danny also eyes his IV point. Well. It looks like a needle. Doesn’t hurt all that much.

Someone says something he doesn’t catch. But the tone isn’t…mean, or anything. If anything, it sounds quiet, and low, like they’re trying to keep him calm.

Danny doesn’t understand.

He moves as far out of the way of them as possible. It only has the effect of a few inches and it's so painfully slow. If that. He— he remembers. He’s supposed to be scared of— something. No, he knows it—

The labs. He’s supposed to be scared of the labs. The smell is rank there and there’s always screaming and Danny had been hurt there; really, really hurt.

He’s still hurt. He’s still in a lab. In a room. In some sort of too-small prison, and now his barely-sewn together lungs are trying too hard to keep air in his body and it’s not working, and—

Danny barely pays attention when the first doctor leaves. He sees the other back into the door and reach for the phone line, and he can’t stop breathing and he can’t calm down because that means that they’re calling for help and they’re going to hurt him all over again. Tie him down. Cut him open. Shock him, until he can’t breathe without screaming—

Someone new comes in. They look— rushed. Danny can see her actively tying up long black hair, threading a mask up over her face, pulling on one of those paper shifts the doctors wear. The only difference is that she doesn’t put boot covers on.

She has big, bright boots that go all the way up her legs. With his green vision, they look kind of…greyish? (Maybe they’re pink..?)

Either way. They look…ridiculous. Danny doesn’t exactly forget to be scared, but also…what the fuck.

The woman sees that Danny can see her. She waves.

Danny presses back against his— cot. Bed.

That doesn’t stop her. She pulls latex gloves from out of the paper slip she’s wearing and snaps them on, revealing a thin layer of something shiny underneath her elastic-bound sleeves. Once that’s on, she does a visible body checkup of herself: boots, gown, gloves, mask, hair.

…No hair net, though. Or goggles. The Docs in White always wanted to be fully covered when they saw their victims. Being able to see her eyes is a lot…friendlier.

She figures herself out. Straightens. Gives a double thumbs up.

…Danny's eyes roam around. There’s no one nearby. There's only a wall behind him. Is she looking at…him? Is that directed to him?

She doesn’t move immediately— and once she’s in, the second doctor leaves the room entirely.

…The new person takes over. She goes from monitor to monitor, getting closer, but with none of the focus on Danny, per se. She reads his stats, verbalizes them out loud, which, doesn’t sound like…English? But enough to confuse him? It’s kind of like trying to discern Esperanto when he's not thinking about how it's not English.

Ancients. The pounding in his head is getting worse. Maybe Danny has a concussion or something.

The woman doesn’t…get. Him. In fact, he seems to be the least interesting thing in the room to her. Her time is spent on reading the charts and the machines waiting around him, putting something into a…fridge? A Cabinet? In the corner of his room? And otherwise, she leaves him alone.

Until. She does get up and look at him, and all of Danny tenses up painfully. He can’t move. Something’s holding down his legs, his body’s stiff, and all of him is so tired that he genuinely can’t tell if his waist is tied down or if he’s just that exhausted.

He can hear his heart rate monitor kick up. He can’t move, not really. He tries to go intangible but his core just throbs with misery, and—

She mostly just pats his sheets. Not his person, even. Apparently the torture is being held off for now. “Eow eart wel?”

…Danny squints. That is almost English.

“Eom hebbjan yift,” she adds, leadingly, as if Danny is a friend she can tease and not a subject under threat of the knife. He doesn't like it. It hurts. Nothing is real and everyone hates him and all he wants to do is leave but his body is rejecting him and—

Something light and plastic thumps down onto the bed.

Danny blinks. He looks—down. (His neck makes him regret that.)

Is that a…is that a space shuttle? No, ‘cause Danny thinks he recognizes it. It’s Discovery? Isn’t it? That’s the one they just retired. He tries to grab it, but— ouch, oof, his fingers can’t even stretch, bad idea—

The woman gently guides the shuttle into his hand. It doesn’t even hurt. And.

It’s cold to the touch. The model is plastic, it shouldn’t be so cold, but the sensation is distinctly cool and kind of familiar.

…Oh. Danny struggles to flex his fingers around the thing.

It’s him.

Or. Well. The shuttle is his. It has his ectoplasm imbued all throughout it. He can even sort of feel the sensation of carefulplayingcareful he’d have felt while near it. The feeling is weak, and timid, but it’s still there.

So. Then. When did he get it? And…why? Why was it allowed to him? How did he get it?

Is this how they’re feeding him now? Instead of showering him with poorly filtered ectoplasm every time he gets rowdy, are they actually trying to feed his Obsession? For real?? That’s—that’s brand new behavior from the—

Danny blinks. Wait. That’s not it either. Because there’s an IV in him. So…they know he’s getting human food.

So. Uh.

Hm.

Danny doesn’t want to get his hopes up. But this…might not be the Guys in White.

Of course, they might not be better than the GIW either; it’s a total possibility that Danny’s getting suckered into some scheme where every gentle permission and soft voice is a debt he owes…some new reason to take…

His eyelids twitch as they try to shut. He’s so tired. Fear kept him mobile, but now…everything is so heavy.

The lady carefully shushes him, ever so gently. She pulls up his blanket for him. Pats it down.

Danny shivers. He’s so, so scared.

“Ræste þiht,” the woman whispers. The words sound fond. Danny’s so scared, but he’s so tired. His heart is beating so fast. “An freond becymþ hraðe.”

It’s reassuring.

Danny doesn’t want it to be.

He falls asleep the way the desperate do—clawing at the last traces of wakefulness, only to have his consciousness ripped from him.

[solar-wing]

⚣ ATLA/LOK: The Four Nations & Homosexuality ☀️

I'm planning to write for my favorite characters from the Avatar universe again. Any OGs from my first account know I started posting content about ATLA and LOK, specifically Bolin and Mako, WAAAY before I started posting DC and Marvel content among others.

So I wanted to talk about something I found really interesting about homosexuality within the four nations and their attitudes towards it regarding acceptance and whether they embraced or turned away from it. And since we are soon getting a new Earth Avatar series, we might as well start with the Earth Kingdom.

EARTH KINGDOM

First, let's consider the element of the nation itself and what it symbolizes.

Earth is not just the element of strength, but also the element of endurance and rigidity. In simple terms, it's a tough and stubborn element.

Also, Earth is a hybrid element, meaning it can be used in defensive and offensive manners easily.

Concerning its nation, it can be shown how citizens of the Earth Kingdom would more than likely be very conservative and adverse to any change or diverting from societal standards in the norm.

They're stubborn and stuck in their ways, so they may not react the most positively to displays of affection between same-sex couples. But, it can work in both ways.

As mentioned, Earth-benders and citizens, in general, tend to be very stuck in their beliefs, meaning if one were to have a more liberal position on the matter of social and romantic relationships, they would be just as defensive and stubborn in that belief as someone more conservative and traditional.

This goes back to my saying that Earth itself is a hybrid element. A mix of defensive and offensive tactics. Just as much as people way attempt to push their beliefs onto others, they're just as quick to defend their beliefs and ideals.

I'd also argue region/location within the Earth Kingdom is a major factor. If we're talking places like small villages or cities like Omashu in the animated version, you may be met with pushback and intolerance. But, places like Kyoshi Island where its founder was a lesbian so likely had very liberal beliefs concerning such topics. Also Omashu from the live-action since that version portrays Oma & Shu as a lesbian couple, and even Ba Sing Se since big cities are proven to attract a more liberal-leaning population.

But, interestingly enough, in the comics, it's stated that the Earth Kingdom is the slowest to accept change, and their default is still heterosexuality. Obviously, this comes from the rigidness and stubbornness of the Earth element itself. So even if Ba Sing Se has a more 'liberal' or rather "diverse" crowd, doesn't mean that crowd is automatically open to homosexuality. Ideally, the only known place in the Earth Kingdom where you could experience the most acceptance and grace from others would be Kyoshi Island

In summary, on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the most accepting & embracing of homosexual relationships and 1 being the opposite, I originally was going to give the Earth Kingdom a 5, but remembering how it's stated in the comics that they are the slowest to accept change which checks out, they got bumped down to a 2.

It is a very big nation and thus has the potential to plant different seeds of belief and opinion, however, it's clear in the show how rigid and otherwise, unshakeable denizens of the Earth Kingdom can be. They have their beliefs, and they strongly stick to them.

Even with someone like Avatar Kyoshi who had to go and make a whole separate Island where she and her people could live in peace and prosperity without certain influences affecting them, they still have yet to come around to the idea that other people live with different interests and beliefs, and that there is truly no 'default' for even one person.

Acceptance Rating: 2/10

FIRE NATION

Starting with a focus on the element itself again, fire is the element of power, as described by Iroh. It can burn things in its path, but can also give life. In simple terms, it's an element of strong will and desire to expand and consume, literally and metaphorically.

Fire is also mainly an offensive element, with the capability of modifying certain offensive moves into defensive ones.

Its nation's citizens and benders heavily share these traits with their element. They tend to be willful and proud, and while that doesn't necessarily equal being close-minded, pride can very well lead to stubbornness.

This is evidenced strongly by the political government of the Fire Nation, with its monarchy power having complete and total influence and control over its citizen's lifestyles and choices. If one Fire Lord feels strongly about something and makes it into law, another Fire Lord can come two generations later and reverse and change it.

This is shown in the nation's history, where homosexuality was actually tolerated (I hate using that word) in the Fire Nation for a long time before Fire Daddy, ahem, I mean Fire Lord Sozin's rule. It was during his reign as Fire Lord that Sozin outlawed same-sex relationships and marriages among the Fire Nation and its citizens.

Some speculate it was due to the clear pressure he faced being the sole heir to the throne since his sister was born a non-bender, something that was frowned upon in the royal family. A potential heir to the Fire throne had to be a firebender, with no exceptions. Therefore, Princess Zeisan was allowed more freedom and control in her life than he was, as evidenced by her embracing Air Nomad culture and being confirmed as a lesbian.

It was common knowledge that Sozin and Zeisan had a very antagonistic and tense relationship with each other, despite them being siblings. They were pitted against each other from a young age which caused a rivalry between them. So, it's completely possible to speculate that Sozin implemented the law to spite his sister who fell in love with Sister Rioshon, an Air Nun.

it's also completely possible to theorize that Sozin harbored homosexual tendencies and feelings himself, especially towards his best friend, Roku we all know was the Fire Avatar before Aang. Again, his being a royal prince and next in line for the throne threw a wrench in this since Sozin was expected to marry a woman and produce an heir. So his potential feelings for his best friend could never be explored due to his duties and responsibilities to his nation.

So since Sozin couldn't have what or who he truly wanted, no one could, and thus, same-sex love and marriage were banned. And that didn't change no matter where you went in the nation unlike the Earth Kingdom where you could go from village to village and city to city and the rules would be completely different depending on where you were.

Again, fire is the element of power and will. And if it was the will of the Fire Lord to ban same-sex relationships in the nation entirely, then everyone had to fall in line. Meaning the door was opened for more conservative and traditionalist views to be voiced in opposition to same-sex relationships.

While some may have had differing beliefs and ideals, they more than likely had to keep it to themselves, especially among the nobility. This can lead to harboring feelings of anger and resentment, rather than love and acceptance, causing people to react harshly to any displays of such affection and behavior, just like Sozin.

As I said, fire as an element itself is primarily offensive in nature. Reflecting on its people, and especially its governing body, this is clearly shown by the notion that one person's opinion and belief can be pushed onto everyone around him if he or she so decrees it.

With that, the Fire Nation gets a 3/10 on the scale. Again, in the past, they were at minimum tolerant of it. which is not much if we're being honest. Tolerant actually is kind of insulting. But, after Sozin's rule, that tolerance more than likely dwindled and hasn't improved much following his reign as far as we know.

I'd like to think that Zuko as the Fire Lord, having seen much of the world and all its different dimensions and lifestyles people have lived, he'd at some point in his reign reverse the ruling, but that's a far-fetched hope knowing these writers and creators (no shade...mostly).

Acceptance Rating: 3/10

AIR NOMADS

Air is the element of freedom. It's flexible and lacks restriction, moving in any direction it desires. And because of its lack of constraint, it becomes easily adaptable in any scenario, whether it's evasion, offense, defense, etc.

However, the element of air is primarily and almost purely used as a defensive and evasive practice among its population, due to its nation as a whole choosing to live as pacifists. But, do not be misled. As mentioned, air as an element can be just as powerful offensively as it is defense-wise.

Just as their element, the benders of the Air Temples were very open and flexible people. As monks and nomads, they chose to forego many earthly and physical connections, seeking spiritual enlightenment. Because of this, there were never any non-benders in the Air Nomads.

Any child born from an Airbender was an Airbender themselves. Also, due to their style of life and spirituality, they were very adaptive to any situation they were placed in, making them very open to any and all change around them.

While they lived by the teachings of the monks and masters of the Air Nomads, they lived freely and openly, just like their element. The most restriction they had was as children or masters/monks that lived at the temples, males and females were not allowed to live together in the same space.

I'm not sure if this applies to temples as a whole as I've seen conflicting information. Some say the rule applies to temples as a whole, which would mean the Northern and Southern Temples were only inhabited by male Airbenders, and the respecting Eastern and Western temples were inhabited by female Airbenders.

But, I do remember a specific scene from Avatar, during the 2nd season when Appa was lost, and he had a memory of when he was a baby bison, and he and Aang met for the first time. I remember the monk facilitating this was a female Airbender, so that's why I'm not exactly sure what is concrete.

But, it does make sense as in many of Aang's flashbacks to his time at the Southern Air Temple, we mainly only ever saw male Airbenders. Thus, many have speculated that this specific rule would inadvertently encourage exploration and curiosity for these young Airbenders regarding their sexuality as they matured and eventually left the temples as adults and master Airbenders.

Also, on this, no child from the Air Temples was raised by their parents. They were only raised by the monks, enforcing that common belief and practice they all had. While they of course had their own identities, they were all taught the same thing from an early age, if an Adult Airbender met and had a child with someone from a different nation, that child likely being an Airbender would be sent to the Air temples to be raised by the monks.

All that to say, Airbenders would be the exact opposite of conservative. They technically wouldn't even be liberal since, again, they detach themselves from earthly limitations in favor of a higher spirituality.

So, since they don't subscribe to earthly practices or beliefs, they would be the most accepting nation of homosexuality and same-sex relationships. It's not in their nature or belief to judge others either so they wouldn't show any hostility or intolerance to LGBTQ+ people and relationships.

Just like their element, they practice freedom and adaptability to the world around them. And just as air is primarily used in defensive manners, they still will defend their beliefs and practices, they just avoid direct confrontation, preferring evasive maneuvers.

Just a quick note, the Air Nomads are what I like to think of as the example of how this world should have been. I read another column that detailed how the creators of the show ultimately created institutionalized homophobia because they couldn't imagine a world without it, and that's in large part due to the heavy influence of Western, colonial, Christian, and to be quite frank, European imperialism on the show's writing.

It's a fact that's becoming increasingly more well-known. Before European and Christian colonization/imperialism, many cultures and communities were not just accepting of same-sex relationships and LGBTQ+ identities, they embraced it! While there were definitely pedophilic relationships that were wrong and grotesque no matter what time period it was, same-sex relationships were just as normal as opposite-sex ones. There was no "default."

So in simple terms, the Air Nomads accept and embrace everyone, no matter who they are or how they live. As long as they don’t wrong and harm others, and even then, they see everyone as equal and deserving of respect and love. And that's what our society should be based on. Of course, they were killed off in an entire genocide, which, say what you will and think what you think, but the one culture that accepts and loves everyone as they are being killed off...ironic, don't ya think?

Acceptance Rating: 10/10

WATER TRIBES

Finally, water is the element of change. Like air, it adapts to its circumstances, but more fluidly and gracefully. Yet, unlike air, it relies on the flow of energy, turning its defense into an offense and back. In whatever scenario that sees fit, a Waterbender can change their liquid offense into a solid defense, or turn a solid offense into a gas defense.

This clearly makes the water an element suitable for either an offensive or defensive strategy. Its unique ability to change its form to fit its circumstances gives its user an extreme advantage in combat or any other risky scenario.

Now, even with this in mind, ironically enough, the people of the Water Tribe are not the most in sync with their element as far as when it comes to living standards.

While yes, in combat, they adapt and adjust accordingly to their needs and goals in the fight, in regular practice, they're more conservative and less open to change than you would initially believe.

Also, as confirmed in the LOK comics, while the Water Tribes are not openly homophobic, they are still lacking in accepting and embracing the concept that there is not one rule that applies to all when it comes to who they love. Which, when you think about it, checks out.

The Northern Tribe operated heavily off a patriarchal society as we saw in the first season, and it took Paku nearly getting his ass whooped by a teenage girl who was the grand-daughter of the woman he loved but refused to wed since it was arranged for them to start to change their ways. Even if the Southern Tribe was a bit ahead of their Northern counterpart in this sense, they still suffered from the restricting roles they placed on themselves concerning gender.

Giving props to Fire Nation and Air Nomads, they never had restrictive rules on who could fight in battle, even if the Nomads as mentioned tended to avoid conflict. However, the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes both practiced and thus, were limited by their rules that men were only allowed to serve in the army and in the guard.

Of course, we've already discussed the Earth Kingdom is the slowest to accept change, but for the Water Tribes, this is a bit unnatural, and if this is how they act regarding gender, it says a lot about how they would react when it comes to same-sex relationships.

So, it's understandable why Kya advises Korra and Asami to keep their relationship to themselves. But, I personally don't believe they should. Creating change means people are going to be uncomfortable. Oh well, boo-hoo, they'll get over it.

But, this does at least check out with the hybrid offense/defense nature of water bending. People of the Water Tribe will stand their ground and defend what they choose to believe in and love. And while they may not openly go out of their way to push their beliefs onto others like those in the Fire Nation, it doesn't mean they don't still have ways have doing so. Like water, I imagine their approach to such a subject can vary.

With that, Water Tribes get a 2.5/10. They're ahead of the Earth Kingdom in the sense that they've realized excluding women from fighting hurts them more than it helps them. Also, it's highly plausible that if a woman can learn how to fight, a man can learn how to heal, but I digress. However, they're still lower than the Fire Nation since this is less of a government-forced ideology and more of a societal norm they place on themselves.

Acceptance Rating: 2.5/10

I like doing analysis like this. If anyone thinks of other topics to discuss and do a deep dive into, send it in my asks!

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Christmas with you

♡ Eddie Munson x reader

♡ Summary: Eddie takes you shopping for Christmas trees.

♡ Warnings: none, fluff. Some suggestive themes.

A/n: While this is still a fluff piece, I'd rather minors didn't interact with my work. Please like, comment, and comment, reblog for support. Not proofread.

"What about that one?" You pointed over to a rather tall, very wide Christmas tree.

"Uhhh, babe, I don't think our ceilings are tall enough for that one." Eddie frowns. He hated telling you no, but there was no possible way to get to that thing in his van, let alone in your trailer.

He squeezes your gloved hand, bringing it up to his lips for a kiss. "C'mon, let's keep looking."

"Okay." You smiled softly at him.

You gasped, what about this one?"

"Sweetheart, look at the size of that thing it's like two of my vans put together." Eddie shook his head.

You and him continue walking hand in hand, searching for the perfect Christmas tree. This was going to be your official Christmas together in your own home. You needed the best tree you could find. You had a specific vision, and you were not going to let anyone ruin it.

Tall, fluffy tree decorated with red and gold bulbs. Warm lights and a pretty star on the top with a velvet red skirt at the bottom. Gifts tucked all around it for friends and family.

Letting go of his hand, you make a bee line for another tree. It was large. Very large. Eddies eyes widened at the size of it. The thing must have been at least way above seven feet tall.

Do you remember where you lived? It's not like living in a trailer was a new concept to you. He thought to himself. You both grew up in one. You should know how low the ceilings are. That tree is not fitting at all. Even if it could fit, it's not make it through your front door.

"Uhh baby, that's too tall." Eddie said, eyeing it up and down.

"Pleeeeaase." You fake a pout knowing it was getting more and more difficult for him to tell you no.

"Waaay too tall." He's not caving. He physically can't no matter how hard it becomes.

Your face falls. "You think?"

"Yep, unfortunately." He sighed.

Eddie isn't surprised by your enthusiasm, though. Christmas has always brought out this child like happiness in you. Maybe it was because everyone just seemed so giving and thoughtful around this time. Or because you got a wave of nostalgia anytime a Santa commercial came on the tv. You always told him he reminded you of your step dad.

Even those little frosted Christmas cookies that had too icing and tasted like cardboard that you loved so much. Whatever was in the air around this time, Eddie wishes it never went away. Seeing your face light up at the pretty lights on people's houses was worth more than any gift.

"Take a look at this one." He rushes over to a tree that resembles something straight from the Charlie brown Christmas special.

"Umm, it's nice, but it's a little....bald." You swallow hard, trying your best not to hurt his feelings.

Eddie looks it over again. "Hmm, I guess you're right."

You grab his hand and take him down another row. The trees all started to look the same after a while. They were either too tall. Too wide. Sometimes even both. You were starting to get down on yourself. You haven't found the one yet, and Christmas was already five weeks away. Eddie can tell you're starting to get discouraged.

It was getting colder outside the more the sun sets. You and Eddie have been out here for more than three hours now. Your hands felt like popsicles. Your cheeks and lips chapped.

"M'cold." Your whole body shivers next to his.

Eddie looks over to you, worry etched on his face. "Here, take my coat."

"But what about you?" You tried to argue. The freezing air turning you into a shakey chihuahua.

"Don't worry, this doesn't bother me too much." He waves a hand around.

You sniffle. "Kay... JUST for a little while, then you take it back. "

"Yes, ma'am." Eddie removes his coat, wrapping it around your frame. The inside was nice at toasty from his body heat.

Eddie pulls into his side, keeping you snuggled to him. You walk down row after row, not really finding much luck. Your eyes water from the freezing gusts of wind. Eddie, on the other hand, seems unbothered.

"Sweetheart, what about that one?" Eddie pointed to a tree just up a head.

It was large but not too big. Fluffy and was just the right size to fit in your trailer and his van.

Eddie jogs over with you in tow. Puffs of breath visible in the cold air. He stands next to it, leaning it up so you can get a better look.

"It's perfect, huh?" He looks to you and back at the tree.

"It's perfect!" You cheer a smile spreading across your once sulken face.

Eddie calls the man over who's selling the trees to give him cash. The gentleman even helped your boyfriend load it up in his van, so you didn't have to.

"Ready to get her all set up?" He asked, starting the engine.

You nod enthusiastically. "Yep, and don't forget you're putting on the topper."

"How could I forget... you've mentioned it since before Halloween." Eddie joked, leaning over to give your cheek a quick kiss before pulling off.

After you and Eddie got back home, he had Wayne come over to help unload your tree and put in the living room. You busied yourself running around your home, gathering all the decorations you bought. You didn't realize how much you had until it was all laid out in front of you. You counted about nine boxed of Christmas ornaments. Two different types of tree toppers and a ton of lights.

"Someone got excited." Eddie walked over to look at everything you purchased over the course of the month.

"Oops." You chuckled.

He pulls you in tight, wrapping his arms around you. You rest your head against his chest, listening to his heart beating.

"Havin fun?" Eddie murmured, swaying you in his arms. You felt like home to him. Something he never really had or ever thought he could experience. But he knew it the very first time he laid eyes on you. Your warm smile and bright eyes.

The moment he first met you, he knew you were special. You had just moved to Hawkins a year after you both graduated. He still recalls the first moment he met you. You were having some car troubles, and he took the opportunity to not only help you but strike up a conversation.

He pulls back, walking over to the ornaments "baby these all look the same."

"Did ya accidentally buy the same ones?"

"They're not the same, Ed." You roll your eyes playfully. Of course, he would think they all looked identical.

"These are burgundy, and these are maroon." You pointed at the various boxes filled with glass bulbs.

Eddie quirks an eyebrow. "Uhh they're all red to me."

"Well, they're not they're different." You corrected.

"Whatever you say, this is your the expert anyway." He holds both hands up, backing away slowly.

"Can we bake cookies while we do this?" He asked, going over to plug in the Christmas lights him that Wayne put around the tree.

"Of course." You smile, picking up a box of glass ornaments. "We can make hot chocolate too."

"You know just how to turn me on, huh?" Eddie was extremely playful tonight. More so than usual. Your happy demeanor was infectious, and it was rubbing off on him. He wasn't complaining there was this warm feeling in his chest. He felt safe.

"Eww." You scrunch your face trying to hide a smile.

"Eww?" His jaw drops, and he clutches at his heart.

Eddie always brought the dramatics, but that's why you fell in love with him.

"Wasn't very Eww this morning or this afternoon or before we left to get this tree." Eddie teases walking to hug you from behind.

He lays his head on your shoulder, watching you put the hook through the ornaments. "Won't be very eww tonight either."

"Okay, that's it. Go put this star on the top of the tree." You wriggle out of his hold. You heard him chuckle. He lets you go does as he's told. The rest of the night was spent decorating your Christmas tree and Eddie twirling you around dancing to old records.

The cookies barely got baked since he decided to eat half of the cookie dough. You didn't even have a chance to put it on a baking sheet. You hope he doesn't get a stomach ache tomorrow. He promised to take you Christmas shopping for Wayne. Which should be very interesting since it's going to be you and Eddie doing it together.

[things-about-cars-in-posts]

got any fun tidbits about the porsche 944? :3

I've got a fun bit of one of those Porsches: the right indicator!

And that's a fun story, so I'll go with that.

Porsche, early to rise as always, spent all morning perfecting its latest project, a fancy little sportscar requested by none other than its day-one friend Volkswagen. After a morning spent, just like the days and nights before, working on the project with the trademark Porschefectionism, right on midday's strike the pencil was finally awarded its rightful rest. Attention turned to the phone - its dial was spun in that old, familiar pattern and, a concerning number of tones later, the line transmitted the clattering of a handset being fumbled up.

"whoizziiit?" "Guten Tag, Volkswagen! It's your friend Porsche!" "christus, tone down that vooooooice", Volkswagen yawned out. "Don't tell me I woke you up!", Porsche exclaimed flabbergasted. "i said tone it down, i've still got a splitting headache from friday. -a brief pause protested the incompleteness- and i guess from yesterday after seeing the bills. i'm really messed up. what do you want" "Oh, you will feel better now - I'm finally done!" After waiting a couple seconds, Volkswagen realized that wasn't going to be clarified. "with what" "The sportscar!" The brow furrowing could be heard from the other end of the line. "the what??" "The sportscar project, the one you commissioned me to design!" "what are you talking about?" Porsche adopted a conciliatory, clarifying tone, trying to empathize with the clearly hazy friend. "You called me Friday at 23:47, and asked me to design you a sportscar. You went on about loving me very much and wanting one of my "sick sportscar things" for a while, and then you hung up before I could ask for details. You seemed to be in a very busy room, so I didn't call back and just went to work."

A small silence filled the line.

"are you joking" "About what?" that was a no.

A small silence filled the line.

"fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck" "What's the problem?" "what did you design" "Oh, you'll love it! It's a transaxle-equipped, low-slung beauty using a 2.0l to-" "yeah bro, i'm sorry for what i... apparently told you, but like, that's all waaay too hardcore for me" "B-but... you asked me to design a sportscar..." "i was off my sheiβen that night bro. i don't remember anything past the sixth large can of dunkelbier." "Six cans of dunkelbier? But you drink those everyday!" "no, i mean those large cans, uhhh, what do you call them..." "...barrels?" "yeah." "But you do need a sportscar in your lineup... right?" "ugh, if i do i'll just flatten the golf or something. that project sucked all my money, dude." "B-but... I did all this work... and it came out so well... does it all have to go to waste then?", Porsche asked with a trembling voice that betrayed the full extent of the emotional hit - at last, waking up VW for good. "Oh, nonono! Don't worry! Uhh... you can make it yourself if you want to!" "But... but I've designed it to be built with your parts..." "Oh I can sell you the parts, it's no prob" That seemed to restore Porsche's spirits. "Really? That would be fantastic! Oh, I have a wonderful name for it already!" "Oh? What is it?" "924!" "...sure. Alright, we'll figure that out. Sieg heil bro" "Er, we don't say that anymore." "Fuck, you're right. Sorry, still a bit cloudy. Uhhh... what do people say now?" "Auf wiedersehn seems to be a popular option." "Auf wiedersehn then." "Auf wiedersehn"

Thus, Volkswagen went on to launch a lightly stepped on Golf it called Scirocco...

...and the project at the heart of our story would end up being made and sold by Porsche,

and as such, getting incrementally refined year over year over year, evolving into the 924 S, which then evolved into the more muscular 944...

...which itself, after three revisions and countless special versions, evolved into the 968.

Which itself, after a couple of special versions, almost thirty years from the 924's launch... ended production for good in 1995. And frankly, I have no idea what finally compelled Porsche engineers to let the damn thing be. Wait actually, hold on a second...

I have one idea.

Okay, to be fair, the exchange rate situation from the Kadett story had only gotten worse making a now dated platform too expensive to make sense and to low a seller to justify remaking. But worry not, they did still have the 911 to keep messing with. Combine that with Pokémon and they were still plenty enriched.

And indeed like the 911, this platform's development is essentially a long, drawn out cleansing of the VW components it started off heavily based on. While the 356 was simply based on a VW platform, though, the 924 was a hodgepodge of bits from all over - engine from the LT van, brakes from the K70, front suspension from a mix of Golf and Beetle...

(I can feel your pulse thumping at the mere idea of a mix of these)

...and of course, this extended to one of the most recycled part of all: the side indicators. And that's important. Because my old Volksvagen had a broken indicator, and I happened to know of an abandoned 924 'round here. C:

Although it did take some work (while the lens was the same, the base was different, so it had to be transplanted from my broken unit - there were probably a couple variants of this part for reasons), I now officially participate in the popular trend of putting Porsche bits on your Golf.

Not in a way that actually makes any difference, but hey.

Links in blue are posts of mine about the topic in question: if you liked this post, you might like those - or the blog’s Discord server, linked in the pinned post!

[darin-nidk]

Prev. | Interlude |

「 Radiosilence (QPR Reader and Alastor) 」

Content: Mostly angst; t.w.: panic attack, anxiety attack, swearing, fear of abandonement, Charlie doesn't get paid to be a therapist.

"God fucking damn it", they turned on their heels as they kept walking, grunting and cussing. Their eyes focused on a chair as they kicked it across the room, effectively breaking it. Hands gripping their hair and lightly tugging at it. "How could he do this to me?!".

"I, ah, what if we take deep breaths..?", Charlie stuttered, the princess of Hell looking anxious at how this particular room was an absolute wreck, even the windows were broken — maybe she needed a hotel manager or someone with more experience than her and uhh, maybe let Vaggie pick who gets to stay in through an interview process..? The demon before her simply stared at her with a sharp glare that made her feel small.

"You have to excuse me, Charlie but, I can't take a deep breath when I feel like suffocating", such words were accompanied by them scratching the skin from their neck all the way down to their collarbone with their claws that were poking out, slightly tearing the skin and bleeding. Somehow that helped to ground them and not spiral out of control. "I can expect betrayal from everyone but him, we are waaay past that stage, we grew up together, aged together, and he disappears?! What the Hell am I supposed to expect? To feel? It's like my metaphorical heart has been ripped apart and torn into pieces, my ribcage hurts when I breath, fucking Hell!", grabbing a book from the small bookshelf, the demon named (Y/N) growled and tossed it against the wall, denting it. They were breathing heavily as they tried to calm down, usually Alastor would know how to calm them down but he was the cause.

"Charlie, you don't understand, he and I... I can feel he made a poor choice because he was cornered and not knowing what he did is driving me insane, I have a deep connection with him. Hell, if he breathes the wrong way I know what the fuck is up—". Explaining their relationship was complex, usually they got misunderstood because apparently someone couldn't care about another without having romantic feelings or whatever.

This feeling was far more complex, they were more than family and friends, soulmates was a bit of a stretch... perhaps a mirror of one another in some fancy manner of speech? And ocasionally engaged in exchanges that could be interpreted in a different light, but romance wasn't it. They had a mutual connection but no carnal desires, their company was an anchor to ground them, it was a comforting bond.

Whatever social need they required, they could satisfy with each other without any misunderstanding or, at least, if there was one then it could be easily fixed with a conversation over a hot beverage with jazz playing on the background.

But Alastor broke their bond without any fucking explanation.

"Fuck, fuck!", (Y/N) cried as they held their face, falling onto their knees. Their vision blurry due to tears rolling down their cheeks, they were having trouble breathing.