#But I'd wish you could hear me out on this

[fairytale-poll]

FINALS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Ponyo:

determined 5yo girls are more powerful than god

PONYO!!!!

As a child i did not even realize this was a little merm adaptation, but it really reads. She is sooo strange and other worldly and the movie absolutely captures that dreamlike fairy tale vibe

Ponyo a roughly five-year-old magical goldfish who can transform into a frog-type thing and a human girl. She's the eldest daughter of the literal goddess of the sea and a former human sailor given immortality. She falls in love with the five-year-old boy who cares for her and is thrilled to explore his ordinary yet magical world. She's bouncy, exuberant, and joyful. She loves ham. She doesn't have to give up her voice.

ponyo ponyo ponyo little fishie in the sea!

Little fishy

THEY LOVE HAM

Bug:

Their a bug that falls in love with a human they rescue and becomes human, but even when they don't get to keep their human body, they still get to be with their love. It's a sci-fi fairytale musical.

Little Mermaid meets Starship Troopers musical starring awesome puppets and the most trans coded main character ever. Please. Please vote Bug Starship I love him. Go watch Kick it Up a Notch from Starship. Go watch Status Quo from Starship. You will understand.

He's a bug and he lives in space on a bug planet but he really wants to be a starship ranger which you can only be if you are a human and then one day a spaceship lands on his planet and so he goes to an evil bug called Pincer who then helps him become a human. And Bug falls in love with a human on the spaceship and it's very sweet. The musical and storyline are based on the little mermaid story, the creators themselves called it "the little mermaid but in space". Bug wanting to be a human/a starship ranger and achieving that and falling in love with a human is very much like the little mermaid

Starship is a musical that can only be described as The Little Mermaid meets Starship Troopers. It follows Bug, an alien bug who dreams of being a Starship Ranger, a galactic explorer/soldier, but the rigid confines of bug society keeps him trapped in a job he hates. He reaches a Starship Ranger named February from the hive and immediately falls in love with her. In order to be with her and pursue his dream, he makes a deal with a giant scorpion named Pincer who through sci-fi bs gives him a human body. Near the end of the second act he sacrifices his human body and returns to his bug body, and saves the day and wins February's heart. It's truly the ultimate Little Mermaid. He has multiple songs, and his bug body is portrayed by a puppet!! Vote for Bug!!

“It's a big, big, universe So many dimensions And unanswered questions Not to mention Life What an invention Life There's no choice involved in what you are given One mind, one voice, one body to live in It's a short, small thing we lead With so much potential Pointless or essential Which one can I be? Where do I fit? Where do I stand? Who are they to say what I am? And how can I stay inside this awful world I know? I need a way out I need an escape I'd rather be dead than to live in this place I wish that something or someone could just take it all away Someone take me away” dear god….. can anybody hear me…. (song from starship)

They are the purest little mermaid adaptation done in the most unuque way. An alien insect gets turned into a human, a race he has always loved and admired, to be with the woman he fell in love with. Also just a great musical.

Bug's whole arc is so so in tune with that of the little mermaid. He is an alien who has fallen in love with humanity through a crashed spaceship and trades his place in the hive for a chance to be with both with the human he's falling for and to be a Starship Ranger. He body swaps with human in a cryogenic pod! It's literally sci-fi Little Mermaid!

Don't stick to the status quo and pick the fairy tale!! it's what HE would want!!!

#ponyo #studio ghibli #bug #starship #team starkid #starship by team starkid #the little mermaid #little mermaid #poll tournament #poll bracket #character polls #polls #fairytale #fairy tale #tournament finals #finals #round 6 #the little merpoll

[bymarara]

Will and the Boys Don't Cry.

Remember the picture when we were first shown Will on his birthday? In case anyone hasn't noticed, there were headphones in the picture and let's think, who else was wearing headphones and under what circumstances? Uh, Max! Max wore them so that she wouldn't fall under the full influence of Vecna and become his victim, music helped her so called survival.

Now let's get to why Will carries them around. I have two suggestions.

Everyone on the team has headphones now just in case Vecna decides to face someone.

Will is scared. Will himself realizes that he can feel Vecna's presence, in addition he will probably hear him, his voice and his thoughts, which will be very frightening to Byers. Because of the fear, he may choose his favorite song and walk around with headphones on at all times, so that if anything happens, he won't be influenced by Vekna and Vekna won't take over Will's mind. I also think that there will be a similar situation as with Lumax, that Mike will have to turn on these headphones in case of anything, I think Will will warn him alone about it all, thus trusting Mike.

Now something I've been thinking about very, very hard. Most people, and I think or thought that Will's song would be “Should I Stay or Should I Go”, but if you notice the details, you can see the poster in Will's room! “Boys don't cry”, this song references Will in a lot of ways, and if it's in season 5 in his headphones, it will be very symbolic, and will show the meaning of everything we've seen.

Let's take Max as an example. She has “Running Up That Hill” in her headphones. The lines from the song literally refer to what Max is feeling and it also shows how she feels about Billy and how she regrets what happened at the end of season 3 and how she would take it all back. The chorus from her song, literally speaks to Max's morale and what she wants. -And if I only could, I'd make a deal with God, And I'd get him to swap our places, Be running up that road, Be running up that hill, Be running up that building. If I only could, oh These lines literally refer to the fact that if Max had known what would happen, she would not have stood still, but would have tried to help her half-brother. She would have been ready even for the same death as her brother, as long as he did not die. Also, there are very interesting lines like.

“You don't want to hurt me,but see how deep the bullet lies.” which refers to their relationship while Billy was alive. The guy hurt his sister, which she hasn't forgotten, and that deep down inside of her, she wished him dead inside of her, which she now regrets.

What about Will? I know most people have already figured this out, but for those who haven't and don't know the context - this song is about the inner thoughts that guys have when they're going through an unpleasant/transitional moment in their lives. It's also popular in the LGBT+ community. Let's go through the parts that I find most interesting and start from the beginning. -I would say I'm sorry, If I thought that it would change your mind. But I know that this time, I have said too much. Somehow it reminds me a lot of Will helping Mike with his relationship with Al, while ignoring his feelings and even confessing his feelings while hiding under his sisters name. Also, I think there's a season five reference here. I mean, Will could talk about the painting and the speech, but not say what he meant about his feelings! And the lines “I would say I'm sorry if I thought that it would change your mind.” show that Mike could have left with some anger and it left a mark on Will and that he can't even apologize now, and that apologizing won't change anything. (Yes, I know I sound creepy, please.) Now let's get to the chorus. -I tried to laugh about it,

Cover it all up with lies. I tried to laugh about it, Hiding the tears in my eyes. Cause boys don't cry. Boys don't cry. Sounds like Will's confession to Mike to me. He's not showing his real feelings, he's hiding everything under the “Al” mask. and underneath the mask, he keeps his feelings hidden, not showing them. He himself, quietly crying, quietly suffering, realizing for himself that his feelings will never be reciprocated, that he will have to live with it and come to terms with it, and he buries it all by himself and tries to cope with it all by himself. -I would tell you, That I loved you, If I thought that you would stay. But I know that it's no use, That you've already, Gone away… Again he says that he has buried all his hopes and feelings, he sees Mike pulling away from him and as if he is walking away from him, so talking about feelings, about declarations of love is useless in his opinion. Literally the whole song shows Will, shows a guy who in his opinion has already missed his chance, he realizes that he can't change anything and hides himself and his feelings only deeper into himself.

I hope that Will will have this song in season 5, but I will also say that there is a possibility that in case of anything, Mike can play this song, so much in this song refers to Mike.

#byler #byler endgame #will byers #finn wolfhard #mike wheeler #byler brainrot #mike wheeler fanart #noah schnapp #stranger things 3 #stranger things 4 #stranger things 5 #st #byler s5 #st analysis #st5 #st5 spoilers #st5 speculation #stranger things s5 #will x mike #will byers fanart

[lynnsadventur]

You finally finished your senior year of cheerleading. All the hard work you put in is starting to overtake you emotionally as you walk through the hallway towards the locker room for the last time. It's a bittersweet feeling.

Your eyes are a bit misty, and even though you've made this walk hundreds of times, the eerily quiet halls of the vacant school undistracting, you end up in the boys locker room. By the time you reach what should be your locker you realize what you did.

You turn around to try and leave but coming in the door are the three football coaches. A little buzzed from their celebratory end of season drinks...

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

*Shit, shit shit!*

I scramble quickly into the adjacent shower room to avoid the approaching football coaches. I silently chastise myself as I hear the laughing coaches enter the locker room.

*I made it four years!* I think to myself, with my back pressed against the community shower wall. *Four years without making a fool out of myself, now here I am, trapped in the boys locker room! How could I have been so stupid?*

*Maybe they'll leave. Just come in to drop things off, then they'll head home ... Vanessa, what were you thinking?*

Click! The sound of beer cans opening echo through the locker room as the coaches cheer to another successful season. They weren't leaving anytime soon, and there was no way out past them.

I silently stand there, wishing that my absurd situation would just go away. The coaches start talking about the last game, their favorite players, prospects for the next season, and their least favorite players. Time seemed to go on forever, as they reminisced about their former days of football glory.

"Hey Tim," one of the other coaches called out. "Tell George about that chick you fucked, back in our Senior year of varsity."

I could hear him laugh loudly, clear his throat, and answer with a deep voice. "Who, Teresa? Come on, Steve. Alright, alright. Oh man, you won't believe this. So, it's homecoming, right? We're down 13 in the end of the second. Not the best for homecoming game, right? Well, half time rolls around and the homecoming procession is going to start in an hour. A lot of the candidates for queen were cheerleaders, so they had to be given some time to change into their dresses, all that. So, I head back to the locker room, figuring I'd freshen up, get my head back in the game. The other players stuck around the field. So, I get in there, and find, none other but Teresa, standing at the mirror!"

The coaches laugh, and George, the one who apparently was hearing this for the first time, says "What the fuck? What was she doing in there?"

"Well, see, apparently all the mirrors were taken in the ladies room. She figured that since all of the guys were out on the field, so she had it all to herself. So, here I am, football stud, standing alone in the locker room with the hottest girl in school, can you guess what happened?"

Steve starts to laugh as Tim pounds his fist rhythmically into his hand. "Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm, mmmmm! Fuck yeah, bitch!" George joins the laughter as Tim mimics the girl's voice. "Yeah, T, give me that big black cock!"

I peek my head around to see Tim scooting along the benches, humping the air as if he was fucking the girl all over the place, as the other two coaches' chuckling erupts into roaring throes of laughter. My eyes get wide as I slip back behind the wall.

"Man," Tim adds as he opened another beer. "She went on to win homecoming queen, but me? Man, I was literally floating on that field! Won that game with MVP, and that night is when I got scouted by Stanford. So, I have Teresa's tight and white pussy to thank for my football successes!"

The three men continue laughing as a couple of beers are opened again. I silently sigh, roll my head back, and squeeze my eyes shut, as if I could just wish myself out of this room. I knew guys could be nasty, but I was surprised to hear the coaches raunchiness.

"Fuckin' cheerleaders, man." Steve interjects. "Have you seen the ones we got this year? The varsity? Holy fuck!"

George laughs and chimes in. "Yeah, man, girls today are something else. Maybe it's the outfits, but they just look ... fucking hot!"

"I know! And they're nasty as hell! You listen to the team in the locker room, and what some of those 'young, innocent girls' be doin'? They'd be putting that girl Teresa to shame!" Tim resumes his impression of fucking, while pretending to spank the air over and over again.

"Well, let's play a little game. Marry, fuck, kill. Cheerleading varsity squad." My eyes widen. My heart begins to race. I've already heard too much, and the coaches had no intention of leaving any time soon. *How am I going to get out of this?*

Steve goes first. "Okay. First, kill. Brittany." The men all simultaneously groan. "She's fat, ugly, and a bitch. I mean, you gotta choice on at least one of those things, damn!" The men laugh in agreement. "Ok, now for fuck. Part of me wants to say Megan, you know, word in the locker room is she gives great head, and her body is alright, but ... fuuuuuck, have you seen that blonde one? Vanessa?"

I let out a sharp gasp and hold my breath. I don't think they heard me.

"Yeah man, that girl is ... she's the whole fucking package. Full tits, nice ass, she's super lean, and God! She's got a nice camel toe. You guys seen it during those jumps? Those shorts under her skirt fit nice and snug over that juicy pussy!"

I cover my crotch with one hand and open my mouth in indignation. I hide behind the wall, silently, listening intently to their conversation.

"You know, word is she's still a virgin." George replies. "I know, that's why I'd fuck her! What if she's no good? I know Megan can give good head, so I'll just marry her. Great blowjobs for life! If Vanessa turned out to be a freak, I'd keep her as a side chick."

I can't believe what I was hearing. It wasn't quite true, but close enough. I had one guy, fairly small, who popped my cherry in sophomore year. It was over in a few seconds, and we broke up soon after when he moved away. No one since then.

George speaks up. "Okay, kill?" They all speak in unison. "Brittany."

George chuckles. "Yup, who else. Marry? That Asian chick. She's got a tight little body, great for tossing around. Plus, I love some good Chinese food."

Tim chuckles and retorts, "She's Japanese man."

"Alright fine, I'll buy her a fucking Chinese cookbook, are you happy?" They all laugh gregariously. "And fuck? That girl Vanessa. Man, she is hot! She's got a porn star's body. I love that short blonde hair, just long enough to grab but short enough to see her shoulders ... and I bet you that bitch has some pent up sexual tension in her. I'd like to fuck that out of her!"

"Alright, Tim, you're up." He sighs and thinks about it for a moment. "Okay, blowjob girl, what's her name? Megan? Okay. So, I marry Megan, right? Stay married for a while, keep getting that nasty head for a year or two. Then I fuck Vanessa." The other two groan at hearing the same choice for all three.

"Hold on, hold on now. I'm not done. So, I fuck Vanessa, right? Then, after I show Vanessa the ropes, I kill my wife, ehhh, what her name again? Blow job girl. Then I fucking marry Vanessa!"

They all erupt into loud laughter as Tim continues while laughing, "No way I can just fuck that tight white ass once! Fuck man, and those titties on that girl? She looks like a God damn model!"

I stand there, in the darkness of the showers, wide eyed with my mouth hanging open. I couldn't believe what I was hearing! Three grown men, objectifying my body. So many feelings were rushing through me; indignation, dread at being discovered, fear of losing my reputation ... and something else. I felt ... vibrant. My nipples felt swollen. My pussy felt an ache, a sort of unfamiliar yearning, that I couldn't quite explain.

The guys continue to talk, and I feel a chill as the sun disappears from the locker room window past the men. I was only wearing my cheerleading outfit; a top that ended above my belly button, and a skirt that ended just below the athletic booty shorts the coaches were leering about earlier. I slip off my tennis shoes to tiptoe around the shower room, see if I could devise another way out. I sneak further onwards along the wall -

The motion activated lights that had previously not detected me blasted on with a blinding florescent whiteness. I gasp loudly and reach for the wall as I inadvertently grab the shower handle ... which then turns on and blasts me with ice cold water! I scream loudly in shock.

"AHHHHHH! Oh God, no!" I slip on the slick floor and fall ungraciously onto my back, still under the jet of cold water. I lie there, gasping and sputtering as the shockingly frigid water blasts my face.

"What the fuck is that?!" One of the coaches yells out. I hear them all jump up to investigate as I whimper, mortified, sprawled out on the ground.

Steve pops his head into the shower room and whispers, "oh fuck." Tim and George appear at the entrance as well. "Hey, that's Vanessa, fuck." They murmur to each other. Tim steps up.

"Hey, are you okay?!" He calls out. He turns off the water as I pant, still in shock from the icy blast and the bright lights.

Steve crouches down next to me. "What in the hell are you doing here?! This is the -"

"Men's locker room, I know." I retort, with a fair amount of attitude in my tone. I slowly try to get up and slip back down onto my butt. Tim chuckles a bit and helps me up by the shoulders.

"How long have you been in here?" George asks, a hint of concern on his face. I shoot him a venomous scowl and reply, "Long enough." The other coaches exchange glances as I pick up my shoes. "I heard you, talking about looking up my skirt, being gross about my body, just ..." I sigh as I start for the door.

"Look, I just want to go. I just want to forget about everything I just heard and - woah!" I slip backwards again, this time Tim catches my fall, his strong arms wrapped around me.

"Nuh - uh, no way." Tim replies as he spins me around to face him. "We caught you sneaking around, off hours, in the men's locker room. There's a lot of expensive equipment in here ... pads, helmets; what, were you stealing?" The other coaches gives Tim a quizzical look, and he waves them off.

Indignantly, I push his arms off of me. "No! Why would I do that?! What could I possibly gain from some old smelly equipment?"

Steve chimes in, obviously understanding the angle Tim was working. "I don't know, you tell us. Were you looking for some old smelly equipment? Maybe some jock straps to smell. Sounds perverted, what if the student body found out about your ... fetish?" Steve smiled with a devilish grin. I stare at him incredulously.

George stood by the entrance to the shower, arms folded. He was looking at me, as if I was a piece of meat. I glance down at myself, and see my wet uniform plastered to my skin, showing more of my stomach and thighs than usual. I return his gaze.

"How old are you, Vanessa?" George asks, an ominous air about him. I nervously stroke a strand of hair and put it behind my ears. "Ermm... eighteen." I should've lied, but I didn't.

The men chuckle, as I glance around, shifting my feet nervously. "Oh yeah?" George says, pulling out his keys from his pocket. "When did you turn eighteen?"

I glare at him. "Day before yesterday." George looks at the other coaches, and with a knowing smirk, flips his keys in the air and starts to whistle cheerfully as he went to the entrance of the locker room. I hear the key enter the lock and click. That click seemed to echo through the locker room louder than anything else.

Tim steps closer behind me, much closer than what was comfortable. "You know, Vanessa, you might be in a lot of trouble." I feel his hand graze the back of my thigh, just below my cheek. I shudder, and begin to cry.

"There, there," Steve says as he approaches me from the front. "We can work this out. You don't have to cry. Here, let's help you relax, then we'll talk it over. Hey, George?"

"Already on it!" He calls out as he comes around the corner with a bottle of Jameson in hand. He pours some into a small Dixie cup and passes it to Steve.

He turns to me and offers the drink. I've never had whiskey before. In fact, I have never been drunk. The most I've had was a sip of champagne at a wedding, but other than that, nothing. Steve sensed my hesitation. "It will help you relax, V. Can i call you V? Take this and we'll come up with a solution to our predicament.

I stare at him, nostrils flared and my fists balled up. I see right through his charade. I yelp when Tim reaches down and roughly grabs a handful of my ass. "Drink it." He states with a serious tone.

He continues to squeeze my ass as I shakily reach for the cup. I swirl the contents nervously as Steve nods. I first take a sip and sputter and cough. "Ugghhh, woah! It's awful!" "That's because you have to down it, V! Try it again."

I take the cup and swill it back. It burns as it goes down my throat. Steve tops it off as I stare at him incredulously. "Just one more, Vanessa." I drink it all at once and throw down the Dixie cup, still glaring into Steve's eyes.

Tim releases his grip on my cheek and chuckles. George rejoins the group as the three grown men stand facing me, arms crossed. I try to match their intimidation, but start to shiver uncontrollably from the wetness of my clothes.

Tim speaks up. "Where do you want to go to college, Vanessa?" I look at him, confused at the question. I start to feel a strange buzz in my head. "Uhm, I don't know. I'd like a UC ... but, that's expensive."

"What about cheer? You want to keep doing that?" Tim asks, pacing back and forth.

"Well, yeah. But it's hard to get in the better schools. Our cheer team doesn't place that high."

They laugh. "Girl, you have everything it takes to be a good cheerleader. You're gorgeous, you're athletic, you really have what it takes. And I have connections. Tell me, what do you think about Stanford?"

I gulp nervously. Stanford was my dream school, but I didn't have the money, grades, or cheer team status to get in. "I uhh ... I really like it."

Tim purses his lips and nods knowingly. "It's a good school. What if I told you, I could get you in? Full ride. Right into the cheer squad?"

My mouth opens. That sounded ... amazing! But I couldn't buy it. I continue to stare at him wordlessly.

"Because you see, my coach, back in my football days, is now the dean of the athletic department. And, he owes me a favor. I could call in that favor, guarantee your full ride scholarship ... but, the thing is, you've got to earn it."

I bite my lip, and draw my finger along it in thought. My lip felt funny, almost numb and tingly. In fact, my whole body felt that way. I couldn't think clearly. "My head, I ... feel funny."

The three men chuckle as they approach me. "She's a lightweight! Have you ever drank before?" Steve asks.

I shake my head no. George looks around and says, "wow, you really are a good girl."

Tim, who was standing directly in front of me, takes my chin in his fingers. "So, how about it, V? Want to earn that scholarship?" I weakly nod yes, a tear dripping down my face, mixing with the water droplets from the shower. "What do I have to do?"

George turns on the adjacent shower head. "First things first, Vanessa. You're cold. Get out of those wet clothes and take a nice hot shower."

I nod gratefully as Steve passes me a towel. I hook it on and walk to the shower. The water is already nice and warm. I turn around, halfway expecting to have some privacy. Then I realize; they want to watch me shower.

"Are ... are you going to watch me?" I ask sheepishly. The three of them laugh and tom says, "Yeah. Yeah, we're going to watch you."

*okay, this is not so bad* I think to myself. *i just strip down for them, they watch me take a shower, and they let me go.* The scholarship crosses my mind. I sincerely doubt it exists, but what other choice do I have? There was only one way out of this.

The three men confer with each other. I saw them gesturing to me, whispering under their breath. I stand there, arms crossed on my chest, shivering. I think about the three men just watching me as I shower. Leering at my butt, probably my breasts too. I want to get this over with.

"So, should I, like, start or something?" They turn to me, and George breaks from the group, nods to the other coaches, and stands by my shower head. "Be our guest!" He retorts.

I turn to face the other two men and bite my lip. I trace my thumbs along the waistband of my skirt and start to pull down.

"Nope." George says. He pulls me under the warm water. "You're already wet, undress under the water."

I stumble slightly, a little woozy from the whiskey. I resume pulling down my skirt, careful to leave my booty shorts on. As it slides over my hips, I let it fall down, and bracing against the wall, I kick it off with one foot.

"Good," says Tim. "Now, turn around, place your hands on the wall, look back at us, and shake your ass."

I do as he says. Standing straight up, I turn around and gently shake it. George laughs and very suddenly blasts the cold water from the shower. I jump and squeal!

"AHHH! Cold! Why?" I shiver under the water as he warms it back up.

"Like Tim said, you've got to earn this." Steve says. "Arch your back. Bend at the waist. Stick your ass out and sway it back and forth. Put on a show! I know you do it in the mirror at home." He winks at me.

He wasn't wrong. I know I'm beautiful. Even though I'm popular, I'm very shy with the guys. I'm much more conservative than most girls my age ... old fashioned, even. I always believed in the dream of finding a soul mate, and getting married. Every time I danced seductively in my mirror, I imagined doing it for him ... not these creeps.

I do as he says. I close my eyes as I sway back and forth. I gyrate my hips around in a circle, spread my legs then dip down low until my butt touches my ankles, before coming back up again. The men stare wordlessly at me as I continue to dance.

I feel so different. My buzz from the whiskey makes everything so hazy. I turn back around, and slowly remove my cheerleading top. All I'm wearing is my sports bra and booty shorts. I keep dancing, swaying back and forth. I try to imagine how a stripper would move.

*Is that all I am to them? Just a stripper?*

They continue to stare at me, and I reach up and grab at my sports bra. Turning red, I pull it off over my head, and let it fall to the ground.

The guys' mouth hung open. Tim whispers, "holy shit!" Greg comes around and stares at me. "Best. Rack. I've seen."

I blush and look down. He wasn't wrong. I knew I had amazing breasts. I was fortunate enough to develop early, and I developed perfect, shapely, full c cup breasts that caught many an eye. My nipples are small and perky, and I feel a rush of pride in the midst of my shame.

I look back up. The three man are staring at me expectantly. I continue my seductive dance as I run my hands up and down my wet body. Swaying my hips back and forth, I take my breasts into my hands and play with my nipples. They are perky and hard, and I let out a soft gasp as I surprise myself with the sensation. I continue with my show, crouching low again, lowering my hands over my abs. My knees are spread apart, pointing to the sides of me. I see their eyes drift down to the imprint of my pussy. They chuckle and start talking amongst one another.bite my lip nervously as I watch them conferring with one another. Tim looks at me and motions me over.

"Come here." I get up and timidly take a step backwards, towards the wall. I yelp as George blasts some more icy water on me and I fall to my knees. I sputter and shiver as the water cascades over my face. George slowly turns it off, as I kneel there, arms crossed under my chest, I notice that I am displaying my breasts even more fully than before by cradling them in my arms.

George comes up behind me and lifts me up under my arms. As I stumble to my feet and regain balance, I feel him slip his hands further in front of me. I gasp as he aggressively squeezes my breasts and pulls me into him from behind.

"Ahh, no! What are you doing?!" I cry out as he squeezes them together roughly. He laughs as I clasp my hands in protest over his. As I pull at his hands, he quickly reaches up and slaps me in the face! Not hard, but it was enough to stop me in my tracks. I stand there in dazed amazement, nursing my slightly red cheek as he continues his barrage on my breasts.

"Mmmmfph! Ow! You're hurting me!" I squirm under his rough embrace as George pinches my nipples, rolling them in between his fingers. Thankfully, Tim calls out to George in a deep voice.

"Bring her here, man." Tim motions us over as George walks us to him. As George releases me, I look back and glare at him coldly, before a shudder runs through my body. Tim, standing in front of me, begins tracing his hands over the outline of my naked torso. First, he starts at my neck. There is a mixture of force and gentleness as he caresses my neck, gently wrapping his thumbs around. I whimper as he squeezes gently. Tim was much more intimidating than George, and i look away, tears in my eyes. Just as quickly, he releases my neck and rubs his hands down my shoulders. His strong hands push down, massaging my them. My eyes drift shut slightly as I let out a shaky sigh.

He runs his fingers along my spine, massaging my back muscles as he continues his journey of exploration lower. Almost enraptured, I lean back and softly place a hand on his chest, as he traces the small of my back. I close my eyes and -

"Whoa- uhhhm ... what are you doing?" Tim slips his fingers down under my waistband, his index finger following the line of my crack. I stutter shakily as I feel it press in between my cheeks. "I'm ... err, I - not ... not, I just - oh!" He presses more firmly, intruding further between my ass crack. I tense up. Sensing my hesitation, his hand slides to the side, squeezing my bare ass cheek underneath my shorts. "Ha-oh ... ahhhhh ..." I moan as he massages my cheek.

He slips his hand out and takes a step back. I stand there for a moment, shaking. I've been humiliated and groped by these men, and as Tim and George joined Steve at the bench along the wall, I breathe a sigh of relief. *They're done with me. The got what they wanted.* I turn back to the shower and take the towel, clasping it around me to hide my naked chest. I bend down to pick up my sports bra.

"Where do you think you are going?" Steve calls out. I turn back around and stammer, "I-I ... I thought you were, like, done, with me." The three of them chuckle, and Tim steps up and pulls the towel off. I instinctively cover up. "Put your hands at your sides." Steve orders. I do it, shifting nervously from side to side.

Tim, Steve, and Greg sit on the bench as I stand before them. "You know how to make out, right?" Tim asks, taking the bottle of Jameson. I nod. He takes a swig and doesn't swallow, and motions me over to him.

I step in front of him, and he pulls me in aggressively for a kiss. I moan as our lips meet. His strong arms wrap around me as I straddle him, knees on the bench. He pushes some of the whiskey into my mouth, which i swallowed. I felt his tongue exploring my mouth, and I let out an involuntary moan. My breathing quickens as his hands move from my back to my ass. He squeezes me like before, this time with both hands. It surprisingly feels good.

"Ohhhhhh ..." my voice trails off as Tim leans me back and sucks on one of my nipples. As soon as his tongue dances over it, I yelp. "AHHH! Ooohhhh, mmmmm."

It feels good. Really good. I've never felt like this before. Tim moved to my other nipple and sent a similar jolt through me. I find myself caressing his shaved head as I bask in the moment.

Just as quickly as it began, Tim let my nipple pop out of his mouth and he passed me to Steve.

I stood in front of him, waiting for direction. Steve was physically fit, like Tim, but a little bit more on the lean side. He turns me around and lowers my still clothed ass onto his lap. He reaches around and pulls me into him by holding my breasts. He cups each with his hand and whispers in my ear, "dance for me."

I've never done a lap dance before, but I try my best. I dance like I did under the water. He obviously wants a little more contact, and he pulls me fully onto his lap. I straddle my legs around his, and bracing myself with my arms on the bench, I lean forward and grind on his lap.

I can hear him panting as I gyrate my hips on him. I also feel a growing bulge as I continue to dance. I let out a slight gasp and pause as I glance back to him. He smiles knowingly and smacks my ass, eliciting a yelp from me. I worry that these men wanted more than groping.

George stands in front of me, whiskey in hand. "Here. Another sip." He feeds me the bottle and I try to take a small swig, but he keeps tilting it towards me. I take a solid two gulps before George pulls back. "Can't have you getting sick on us! How do you feel?"

I look up groggily into his face. "I, uhmmm, I feel ... mmmmstrange ..."

George squats down in front of me and looks me in the eye. He is slightly older than the other two, and not in as good of shape. He grabs me by the hair and kisses me deeply, almost desperately. I feel his tongue swirling around my mouth.

In the meantime, I'm still grinding on Steve. I can feel his groping hands pulling at my breasts as his bulge gets harder. I feel so violated.

George pulls back, and I feel Steve gently push me off of him to my knees. As George stands up, I can see a bulge in his pants as well.

"Tell me Vanessa," he asks. Have you ever seen a dick before?" My eyes close as I fully realize the direction the night was headed. Reluctantly, I nod. "Probably a boys penis, am I right?" I nod again. "So, what, how big do you think it was? Show me with your hands."

I think back to my one and only sexual experience. I knew from stories that he was smaller than average. I placed my hands about 3, maybe 4 inches apart and displayed my measurement to him.

"So, did you fuck him?" Groggily, I nod my head, then frown and shake it. "I uhhmm ... he entered me, and he uhmmm, he ..."

"He what? Say it." George became more stern.

"I, uh, I don't know how to put ..."

"Fucking say it!" He says forcefully, yanking on my hair a bit as I kneel in front of him.

"AHH!" I cry out, a tear dripping down my face. "Well?" He asks. I look up at him, defeated. My mouth hangs open, as I work up the courage to say the words.

"He popped my ... cherry."

"Oh, he did, did he? With what?"

"He popped my cherry with his dick." My lip quivers in embarrassment as I look down.

"How long did he last?"

"Uhmm, not long. He didn't even fully enter me -"

"That's not what I asked." George says, clicking his tongue in disappointment.

"Fifteen, maybe twenty seconds?"

Greg pulls back a bit and laughs. "That's it? And you haven't had anyone else?"

I lower my eyes further and shake my head back and forth. George shrugs and looks back at the other guys. "Virginal enough for me."

"So ... did you suck him off?" George asks, pulling at my hair enough for my to lift my eyes.

"Umm, what?"

"Blowjob. Did you give him a blowjob?"

I pause and answer. "Well, no ... not him."

George chuckles and looks at me inquiringly, tugging at my hair as if expecting an explanation.

"I mean, I've practiced before. You know, on, uhh, fruit and stuff. Carrots, uhmmm, my toothbrush ..." my voice trails off as I see George holding back laughter. He looks at the other guys, who were well behind my view, and they all chuckled.

"What did I tell you?" George reports. "Pent up sexual tension." With that, George begins to pull on his zipper. I stare wordlessly, in a state of shock and resignation, as he pulls his pants down and his dick springs free. Wide eyed, I stare at this grown man's dick swinging in front of my face. It wasn't much longer than my first partner's dick. In fact, it was pretty comparable. He had maybe an inch longer, perhaps just shy of five inches. It looked different. There was curly pubic hair, and a number of veins running up and down it. The head was a purple hue, and a drop of clear fluid was collecting at the tip.

"Well, what do you think?" George swings his member back and forth close to my face. A drop of the fluid swings off and lands on my shoulder.

I look up at him quizzically. He strokes his throbbing dick once, squeezing out some more fluid and smearing it on my forehead. I could smell his salty, masculine scent.

"What are you going to do right now?" Even in the whiskey induced fog, I know his game. And I have to play along. I resign to my fate, as I take my finger, swipe off some of the fluid on his cock, and taste it with my tongue.

"I'm going to suck your hard cock."

A gleeful cheer comes from the two behind me. "There she is!" Exclaims Tim, as him and Steve exchange a high five.

George takes the base of his dick and guides it to my lips. I close my eyes tightly as my mouth makes contact with the tip. I slowly slide forward as his head fully parts my lips. He leans back his head and moans.

It tastes salty. I tilt my head back and pull backwards, running my tongue on the underside of his dick. I feel a shudder as it runs along the edge of the head.

*Okay, the head is the most sensitive. I'll focus on that.*

I twirl my tongue around him, while slightly bobbing my head. I thought of how sexy I looked when I blew a banana in the mirror. I run my tongue between his foreskin, and tease the head all around its edge. He jumps and moans with pleasure.

*He likes that. Keep doing that.*

I continue my pace as I feel his dick swell in my mouth. George begins to slightly thrust forward, and I could feel him going deeper in my mouth.

"Mmmmmph ... mmmmm ... mmmmmphhh." I moan, with a mouthful of dick. I feel so violated, so vulnerable ... but, a part of me, well, I can't say I enjoy this, but ... I'm intrigued. I place my hands gently on his thighs as he begins to thrust forward with a rhythm. I feel his shaft sliding in my mouth as the ridges of his head rubs toward the back. I frown a bit and pull my head off of him a little bit, yet he responds by forcefully pulling my head deeper!

"Wheeehh! - *cough* " my throat makes a gagging sound as his head presses firmly against the back of my throat. I make a wretching sound as I cough and sputter, thick spit shooting out of the side of my mouth. I angle my forehead against his body to try to get relief, but he begins to thrust into me!

"Gluh - gluh - gluh - gluh" my throat makes a sound each time he pulls back, and he cuts it off every time he pushes forward. Tears are running down my face from the intensity of a dick in my throat. I slap his thighs desperately, trying to get him to stop. He finally relents, allowing me to fall back to the bench. I gasp for air and wipe my face, as I look at him, wide eyed, with an expression of betrayal. I cough and sputter a few times, a thick line of spit coming from my nose.

"Now jack it off." George states, placing his legs on either side of me. I reach up with one hand and hesitantly grab his dick, my own spit draping around my forearm. I'm still panting for breath, as he continues to advance closer to my face while my hand strokes him. I cringe as he thrusts, trying to increase my rhythm, and his sloppy dick pushes out through my fist and pokes my face. "Suck it again." George growls. Reluctantly, I slide my lips over his head once more, this time keeping my hand on his shaft. He continues to pump harder into me, but this time, I keep him from going too deep. Thankfully, he seems satisfied with my hand in front of my mouth, stroking him completely.

George then removes himself from my mouth, stepping back and grinning as he grasps his wet dick. I wipe my chin as Steve speaks up.

"Alright, my turn" calls out Steve, who was still seated on the bench, now next to me. I look over and gasp. He has removed all of his clothing, and was reclined on the bench. Resting against his fit abs was a long and straight dick, pulsing and twitching every second. I stare at it in amazement. Steve smiles and says "you like it?"

The truth was, I kind of did. He was longer than George, maybe above 6 inches. But it was more than that. His dick was very ... attractive. It appeared to be well trimmed, and it was very sleek and smooth. He had nice, shapely balls draping down beneath his appealing member. He motions me over, and I stand up - only to freeze in my tracks.

Tim was also naked. His muscles rippled as he moved around. He watched my reaction as I stared, wide eyed with my mouth open. Between his legs, was an incredibly large penis. Maybe 9 inches in length, and thick. Very thick! It curved to the left a bit, and bounced with every pulse. It wasn't a pretty cock; not like Steve's, but it was definitely intimidating. He watched me, like a tiger knowingly watching its prey.

"Hey, Vanessa." Steve pulls me forward. Guiding me in front of him, he scoots forward and starts to suck on my breasts. "Ohhh ... ahhh." I moan as he pops one nipple out and sucks on the other. He seems gentle, much more than George. Even more so than Tim. Tim felt so strong, yet there was a gentlemanly, if not manipulative, way that Steve had to his movements.

I feel his hands run down my sides as he hooks onto my waistband and tugs at my shorts. I whimper with fear and pull away, but Steven is insistent. He stands up and forcefully yanks them down, just to my mid thigh level. He steps back as each guy cranes his neck to look at my exposed bald pussy. Steven lets out a low whistle, and chuckles in excitement while shaking his head in disbelief.

"What?" I ask, turning red in the face. I look down and gasp in surprise: strands of clear, thick pussy juice are dripping from my vagina, all the way down to my shorts. I reach down and scoop some out, and investigate the fluid by rubbing it in my fingers. It's slippery to the touch.

"Now ... THAT is the wettest pussy I've ever seen." Steve watches as I play with the fluid that is now draping down my fingers with embarrassed wonder.

"Taste it." I look at him in disbelief. He continues to watch me, and I slowly slide my finger in my mouth, wide eyed and embarrassed. I taste ... strange. Not like George's dick. It's a musky, yet sweet taste.

Steve leans forward, and without much warning, swipes a finger through my pussy lips. I jump and let out a dismayed yelp. He removes his finger nonchalantly and tastes my juices for himself. I hold back tears as he smiles. "Tastes great," he states, as he leans forward and reaches out to me again. I wince as his hand slides between my legs, his middle finger gently parting my pussy lips. I softly grasp at his wrist, but lack the courage to pull him away. Here I was, alone with three older men, having my innocence stolen from me. My shorts remain on my hips, allowing me to only spread them slightly apart as he continues to slide his finger along my pussy.

"You know," Steve says. "I've had my eyes on you for a while." I grimace and whimper as I feel his finger prod a little deeper between the pulsing lips of my pussy. "You're the prize of the school. Good thing we got to you first. You know, I bet you wandered into the locker room looking for a man."

"No ... I ..." I breathe in sharply as I feel his finger slide in slowly into my pussy. I tighten my grip on his arm.

"I bet you were even playing with yourself while you were eavesdropping on us, weren't you?" I gasp as I feel his thumb gently press and rub my clitoris.

"No! I - unnnghh!" I let out a guttural and unlady-like grunt and bear down as his stimulating thumb sends shudders through my body.

"Yeah you were. Admit it. You came in here looking for some dick." I push his arm back and pull my hips backward. "No! I didn't -"

In response, he reaches around and clasps my ass tightly, his fingers reaching into my crack and clutching me closely. His other hand is still resting against my pussy, my juices dropping down to his elbow and onto my partially removed shorts.

"If you don't agree with me, I'll just have to have George come back here and take over for me." I glance sideways at George with disdain. He wickedly imitates his clamped fist pushing up and forcing through the fingers of his other clenched hand, laughing as my eyes widened.

I quickly look back and Steve and shake my head. "Well then?"I feel his index finger join his middle, waiting at the entrance to my pussy.

"I ... came in here, looking for dick."

"Oh," he retorts. "Did you find some?"

"Yes." I shudder as his fingers wiggle and my entrance. "Whose?"

"Yours. And his. And ... his." I gulp as I stare once more at Tim's big member.

"That's right, Vanessa. So, do you like having your pussy fingered?" I softly nod my head. "Tell me what you like about it." He slides back into me, this time with two fingers. I gasp and squeeze his wrist once more, this time inviting him in.

"It ... mmmmm ... it feels good."

"Tell me more detail." Steve states in a warning tone.

"I like it ... I like it when you rub my ... clit." Steve resumes rubbing it with his thumb as I release his arm and clutch desperately to his shoulders. He begins to curl his fingers deep inside of me - and I lean further forward, my hands on the wall as I start moaning uncontrollably.

"Mmmmm! Ohhhhhh, oh, uhh, uuuuuhgnn!" Steve's pace quickens as he continues fingering me. "You like that?"

"Yes! Yes, oooh, it feels good."

"Should I stop?" Steve asks mockingly.

I start bucking my hips with his rhythm. I feel ashamed, but the unexperienced pleasures washing through my body are irresistible. I spread my knees wider, feeling my booty shorts around my thighs pull tightly against me. My legs begin to shake and quiver. My head lulls back and forth as my eyes flutter.

"Are you going to come for me, Vanessa?" I am almost horizontally leaning on Steve's shoulder, my breasts brushing his back to the rhythm of his arm. He reaches around with his free hand and pulls my waist against him. He continues to press on a sweet spot inside of me, previously unreached. My feet slide out further behind me, and I am unable to stop moaning.

Steve increases his pace to a furious rhythm. I can hear his fingers sloshing in my pussy as an indescribable feeling edges closer to me. "Ugh! Uhhhh ... Eh!! Mmmm! Ahhhh!" I feel wave after wave of what felt like the rush of a thousand shivers crash through me. My hands slide down the wall and I desperately grasp at the edges of the bench as Steve's fingers intuitively thrust to the throes of my very first orgasm!

"OOOOOH! MMMMPH! Huh ... huuuhhhh ... mmmm ..." I relax my tense body and slump down as Steve guides me past the bench and onto the floor. He gets up, bends over and wipes his wet hand on my backside.

"Get up. Come here. Lose the shorts and lie down."

Still panting heavily, I roll gingerly onto my back. Steve is standing over me, his impressive dick jutting straight out from his body. He reaches down his hand and grabs mine, pulling me up to my feet. I stagger unsteadily, my knees still weak and quivering.Lie down. I'm going to fuck you now." I blink with a sense of bewilderment. This couldn't be happening!

I nervously rub my arm and bite my lip. I don't know what to do! I'm scared, intimidated by these older men taking advantage of me. But yet, i feel this yearning desire in me. Whenever I look at Steve's dick, I feel a strange ache inside of me that I can't quite describe. Slowly, I lower my shorts past my knees, as they noisily slap on the ground. I stand before these men, completely naked.

"Turn around; slowly. Show off for us." I oblige the request, and I slowly turn around and bend over, at the waist, with my back arched. I look to my right: George stands at the entrance to the showers, slowly stroking his dick. To my left, I see Tim. His dick is now fully erect, laying on his chest. It goes well past his belly button.

I turn back to Steve. He motions me over and guides me to lay on my back. I lay down, my head closer to Tim's side of the bench, though I can't see him. Steven straddles the bench and positions himself between my legs.

I take in a deep breath. I shudder when I feel his smooth head slide up and down my sensitive, throbbing pussy. "Ooooooohhh ..." I moan as unique and intense pleasures wash over me. he brushes his dick like a paint brush, up and down my slit. It's almost too much sensation so soon after an orgasm ... my first one at that. Almost.

"Mmmmmmmm - OHH!" I gasp as I feel the head slide in. It doesn't hurt ... but an intense shiver crawls up my spine. Steve holds up my legs like a 'V' and slowly but steadily advances his shaft into me.

"Haaah ... aaaaAAAaah ... OOOH, MY GO- MMMMMPH!" I cry out as he slowly slides into me, inch by inch. The wetness of my pussy allows him to enter with ease, but the fullness! The tightness!

I grunt loudly as I feel his body press against mine, his dick reaching the untouched places in my pussy. I grit my teeth as he holds it there, then begins to gently thrust into me.

"GRRRRAHH! OH! AHHH! Oh ... oh ..." I feel more used to his dick, as his rate increases. "Huh ... mmmm ... mmm-OH! ... mmm, yeah, ugh, mmm, mmmhmmm..." I wrap my legs around Steve as he continues thrusting. I ... think I like this. No, I really like this ... but ... this is so wrong!

"WOOOAHH-AH-AH-AH!" Steve rubs his fingers on my clitoris, and all thoughts of regret leave my foggy mind. "Oh, yeah! This feels, OH, this is ... GAAAAAHHHHH!"

Steve increases his rhythm, and I can hear the slapping sounds of our bodies colliding. I feel his balls smacking against my asshole, as he leans back and pumps into me, finger on my clit.

"SHIIIIIIT! SOMETHINGS -AHHHH!" I feel a rush deep within me as wave after wave of pleasure crash over me once more. My mouth is wide open - but I can't breathe. I can't scream. My whole body tenses up as Steve grunts and pumps my pussy with his dick. As I continue to convulse, Steve starts grunting and moaning, and he thrusts mightily into me, scooting me forward on the bench each time.

As my second orgasm subsides, I realize that Steve is about to cum inside me. "Wait! No no no no NOOOOO!" It's too late. I prop myself up with my elbows and try to swing my leg over. I end up with my legs together on one side as he blows his load inside of my pussy. Tim comes from behind me and holds me down.

"Oh, no ... you came in my pussy!" I whine as Steve, panting and spent, continues to thrust his dick into me. He flips my legs back to the 'V' position and slowly slides it in and out of me. Tim is holding my shoulders, and he pushes down to make me flat on my back again.

Tim advances on the bench, and as I stare up on the ceiling, I see his massive cock fill my field of view. He keeps going, until his balls are directly over my mouth. His cock leaves a streak of precum from my neck to my chest.

"Here's what you're going to do. Your going to lick my balls, and press together your titties so I can fuck them. Repeat it."

I feel the impressive weight of his dick lying on my chest. Weakly, I mumble, "I'm going to lick your balls ... and press together my, uhm, breasts." I still feel Steve slowly humping me.

"Your what?"

"My ... my titties."

"And why are you going to do that?"

I place my palms on either side of my breasts and hold his massive member in between with my fingertips. I feel some reluctance and inhibition give way as I loudly say, "So you can fuck my perfect, sexy, 18 year old titties!" With that, I stick my tongue out and let it graze Tim's balls as he pumps his dick in between my breasts.

Steve, finally spent, slides out and sits back on the bench. Tim reaches down and scoops my wetness, along with cum, into his hand, and he spreads it on my chest. Soon after, i feel another dick at my pussy entrance. George has taken Steve's place.

George didn't have what Steve had. His dick was smaller, his thrusts were less sensual, and he paid no mind to pleasuring me. As Tim continues to slide is long cock in between my breasts, George speaks up. "What am I doing, Vanessa?"

I stop licking Tim's balls for a moment and say "Having sex with me."

George laughs and spanks me. "Dirtier."

"You're ... fucking me."

"Yeah? I'm fucking you where?" He slaps my ass once more.

"You're fucking my pussy!"

"Mmmhmmm, yes I am. What else can you call it?"

I rack my brain for any dirty words I can remember. "My ... snatch. You're fucking my snatch."

"Yeah, good. What else you got, bitch?"

I inhale deeply, and lick Tim's bouncing balls. "My, cunt. No ... no your cunt. My cunt ... it's yours." I begin to understand what George was looking for. He's a true chauvinist. The way he pounded my face, the way he fucks, the way he talks to me. I have to cater to that, maybe make him finish sooner. I already resign myself to the fact that he will probably cum in me too.

"Pound that cunt. Pound it hard!" I pant as he increases his pace, all the while with Tim in between my breasts. "Take it! Make it yours! Make it ... your hole. Your fuckhole!"

"Yeah!" George begins to thrust in me faster. It feels intense, but not enough to keep me from focusing. I tilt my head out from underneath Tim and look at him. "You like these titties? Huh? You like fucking my perfect little body? Yeah?"

With a final push, George cries out and pulls out of me, to my surprise. He jacks himself off for a moment before blowing his load on my pussy. I feel the warm spurts drape across my pussy lips, as it oozes down past my lips and into my asscheeks.

"Look at our girl!" Exclaims Tim. "She's turning into a freak! Vanessa, get up."

I pause for a moment. George and Steven have already fucked me. Tim was obviously expecting something as well. But he was too big!

I sit up. "Wait, now, let me, uhm, give you a handjob?" I turn around and scoot backwards, away from Tim. "Look, it's just not possible, right? You can't really expect to fit that ... cock ... inside of me. C-can you?"

He continues to follow me. My eyes widen. "No, no, no, please don't ... I don't think I could handle you ... haven't I done enough?" He stand up fully, his dick swinging freely. "You're done when we say you're done."

My lip quivers as I hold back tears. I slide to the edge of the bench, fear in my eyes. Tim grabs a towel, reaches out, and wipes off the cum from my pussy. Looking at it, he then smears the juices on my face. I gasp and look at him incredulously.

That upset me. I lash out and try to kick him. He just laughs and grabs my ankles. The other men grab my arms as I squirmed, and in unison, they quickly flip me over.

"Oof!" I whimper as I land on the hard bench. George stays at my head and keeps me low to the surface. Tim brings my knees together and up underneath me. He pushes down on my upper back, so my ass is jutting out straight in the air. I feel so exposed and open.

"Well, look at that!" Tim exclaims. I try to turn around and see what he was doing, but I couldn't. I hear him slowly spit and feel a drop of saliva running down my ass.

I start to whimper. Tim straddles the bench and leans forward. He uses his two hands to spread my asscheeks some more. I yelp loudly when I feel his tongue lick squarely on my asshole!

"AHHH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I squirm against the men holding me, but I can't break free. I feel his tongue lick and prod at my virgin asshole. "Oh, no, no no no please stop ..." I cry out, embarrassed. He responds with another lick. I jump slightly. "Ohhhhhhh, please stop." He licks again. I twitch in response.

Tim continues this for several minutes. I started out whimpering, but as time went on, that whimpering turned into moaning. I started to enjoy the unique sensations.

*This feels so ... wrong. But, it does feel kind of good. Mmmmmmm*

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm, yeah." I freeze for a moment as I realize that just came out of my mouth. I blush with embarrassment as I hide my face in the bench. "No, no, noooo ..." my voice trails off into silent sobs.

"Looks like she like this!" states Tim. "Tell us, do you like that?" I shake my head, ashamed. He slaps my ass hard and curtly says, "Don't lie."

I nod my head sheepishly. "Yes. Yes, I like it when you ... uhm, lick my asshole. It ... it feels nice."

Tim nods. "I think she's ready." I cringe at what that could mean. I know he wouldn't try to put it there ... right?

I shudder when I feel the weight of his cock at my entrance. To my momentary relief, he was at my pussy. For a second I thought he was going to try to put it in my ass-

"WHOOOOAAAAAAAHHHHH!!" Any feelings of relief disappear as he presses his dick into me. I reach down and feel his shaft, and I trace the outline of my stretched pussy. He didn't get much more than the head in!

"Whooo ... whoooo ... whooo" I breathe through pursed lips. "It's so, it's so big - OOOOOOHHHH!" I cry out as he rams more into me. He positions himself a little higher, planting a leg down on the bench as he leans in further.

"OH GOD! YOU'RE DICK IS SO FUCKING HUGE! I CANT! I CANT TAKE ANY MORE! I-"

*GASP!*

I let out a deep, throaty gasp as he slides a finger into my asshole. George lets go of me and I raise my head, now on all fours. I can't breathe. I can't move. My mouth hangs open, and my eyes are squinted shut.

*GASP!*

Tim is fucking my pussy with a regular rhythm. I still can't bring myself to breathe, the sensations are too much! I manage to lift up a hand from the bench and slam it back down. Again. And again.

*GASP!*

"OOO - OOHH- ... AGGHHHH!" I manage to croak out as Tim stretches my pussy and finger fucks my ass. Finding my voice again, I start to make a long and constant wail. His dick was hurting me. His finger overwhelmed me. I look and see Steve and George to the left of me, both jacking off to the sight.

Tims barrage quickens, and I collapse fully onto the bench. Tim cries out and removes his dick from my pussy, as well as his finger. I could hear him jacking off onto me, and after a moment I felt load after load spurt over me, from my ass to my hair, and everywhere in between.

My pussy throbbed from the beating. I reach for the bottle of whiskey, and take a long swig. I cough a bit, but soon feel a heavy haze drift over me. Everything became blurry, and I just couldn't focus. I just laid there.

"Look at that!" George exclaims. "She wants more!"

The guys weren't done with me. As I lay down on the bench, Steve comes behind me and lets my legs fall to the floor. I just lie there, limp. I hear him spit and then feel a throbbing penis pressing against my asshole. With the whiskey and my exhaustion, I can't resist. I cringe at the discomfort as he slides his dick into me, inch by inch.

"Mmmmfph! Oooohhhhh ... my ass ... ohhhhh ..." I weakly cry out. I lay there, in a fog, as he fucks my hole, for, how long? Minutes? I reach back and grasp at his dick. He's only pushed in half of it?!

Steve props himself up over me. His cock, still in my ass, is pointing down. He reaches around my hips, locks his arms, and pulls upwards. I feel my hips lift off the bench as he sinks his dick fully into me!

"OH GOD, my ass!" He continues to lift me up until he is holding my full weight. I lean back against him and balance against the wall. Tim steps in front and watches, as I am fully exposed to him. With his fingers kept together like a salute, he tabs my pussy sloppily back and forth, eliciting screams from my lips.

Steve then sits down and keeps his cock in my asshole. He lays back as I sprawl against him, unable to get up. I watch as my tits bounce back and forth as he pounds my poor hole. I cry out again as I feel my pussy get invaded. Tim enters between my legs once more and I cry out loudly as he stretches me. I feel so full!

Everything is going so hazy ... I think I had too much to drink. Or maybe not enough. I can hear my screams, but they almost don't register as mine. I look down. I see my pussy being pummeled, and I feel my asshole being stretched. But it doesn't hurt as much.

My hand starts massaging my clitoris. "Ohhhhh ... oooooh ... ahhhhhh... oooooooooooohhhh!"

My moans sound like - moans of pleasure? My other hand goes to my left nipple. I play with it. I love the tingling feeling it gives me. Steve thrusts into me. I feel so ... good? No, good is definitely not the right word. But ... I feel something. Something intense.

Tim continues to fuck my pussy as I rub my clit. "Ohhhhhh, yeah. Mmmmmm ... mmmhhhmmmm. Oh! Ooohh! OOOF!" I feel so used, but, I don't want it to stop. I start grinding my hips up and down, feeling the movement of the cocks deep inside me.

George stands at my head and pulls my hair. I have just enough time to prepare as he slides his dick into my throat, pressing against me and thrusting.

"Gluh-gluh-gluh-gluh." I continue to masturbate as I feel George tense up. He presses into me as I choke on his load. Cum drips out of the side of my mouth as he finishes in me.

I feel a wave of sensation forming deep within me. I moan more frequently as the feelings grow stronger.

"MMMM! MMMMHHMMMM! I'm goin' to ... cum soon, I ..." my voice trails off as I continue to rub my clit. Tim cries out and pulls out of me, blowing his load on my stomach and chest. He then slides two, maybe three fingers into my pussy. Pushing on my pelvis, he thrashes them up and down in my pussy.

"IM ... ITS HAPPENING, OH FUCK! OOOOHHH, FUCK! AHHHHHHHHHH!!" An intense, indescribable wave of sensation washed over me. Pussy juice gushes out of me and onto the bench. I shake violently as my convulsive orgasm wracks my whole body. I could feel Steve blow his load in my ass as he joins me in the throes of orgasm.

Then I black out.

***

I wake up. The very first thing I notice is my splitting headache. "Owwww." I hold my head in my hands and squint my eyes open. Something had dried over my left eyelid and kept it shut. I rub my right eye and groggily look around.

"What, where ... was that real?" I notice that I am still in the men's locker room. I sit up fully and wince at the soreness of my ass.

Shakily, I stand to my feet. "Hello?" There's no answer. I stumble to the nearest mirror and look at myself. I was fully naked, and I had dried cum everywhere. My hair was matted, and a thick glob had dried over my left eye. I turn on the sink and wash my face.

I step back and examine myself more fully. Cum had dried on my breasts, my stomach, my back, and my ass. I turn around and notice distinct hand marks where I was spanked. I lean forward and spread my cheeks. My asshole looks stretched and loose. I whimper and delicately lift my leg onto the sink to examine my pussy. It is red and puffy, and feels stretched out. I can see into both holes.

I return to the locker room. All signs of the men's presence was gone ... save a camcorder on a tripod in the center of the room. I didn't remember that there!

There is a note attached. It reads:

Vanessa,

We got the whole night on tape. G set it up when he locked the door. I'm sending in your 'highlight footage' to the dean at Stanford. Trust me, he's already eager to provide you a full ride ... with a few ... conditions. He'll be in contact with you.

As for us, this never happened. The tape stays with me; if you rat us out, we'll leak it. I did leave some pictures on there for you to see. We had some more fun when you were out.

You were a phenomenal fuck!

T

I turn on the camcorder and scroll through the history. There's a few images. The first one is a picture of the whisky bottle neck stuck in my pussy. It appears that they had poured the rest on my body.

I scroll next. Steve was pumping his cock between my ass cheeks, smearing cum in my crack. I'm lying there, slumped across the bench.

I feel a sense of disgust at the next picture. George is sitting on the bench, and he had positioned me upside down so that my legs were draped on his shoulders. Only my shoulders were on the ground, and my arms were sprawled to my side as my face appears contorted in pain. One of his arms was wrapped around my waist, and he had worked in all five of his other fingers into my pussy, with the base of the thumb slightly visible. I shakily reach down and ease four of my own fingers into me. I wonder if I will ever be as tight as I was before last night.

I reach back and tenderly caress my ass at the sight of the last one. Somehow, Tim managed to shove his dick into my asshole! The entirety of his shaft is buried in me as he pulls my arms backwards in doggystyle. I appear to be awake, as I am standing on my own, but I can't remember it at all.

I shut the camcorder off and look for my clothes ... they're all gone. I'm too tired to be upset. I look around and find an large, old, dusty jersey. I slip it on, and the neck almost slips over my shoulders. I drape it around me and head for the door. It is unlocked. I peek out into the hallway. No one seemed to be around. The first rays of morning light were shining down. I walk out, heading for my car.

I smile as I feel a little cum leak out of me and drip on the floor. "College, here I come!"

#older man younger woman #oldermen #older daddy #older guys #teacher crush #dadyslittlegirl #fuck me dady #daddy's good girl #older dad bf

[since64bce]

Hell Within Hell

Alastor-Radio Demon- x Sinner reader

Synopsis: Alastor has inhibited hell for years. He knows it's ins' and outs'. But when it comes to him, his coppery heart, and an unexpected new-found perspective on his assistant, a new hell is created for him as he tries to wrestle with the shiny new concept of love. Just a few short pieces of writing and some head cannons'. Nothin' fancy.

Word count: Don't know. Warnings: Alastor.

By gosh what a tragedy. What a wonderful, terrible tragedy. What a questionable, concerning tragedy. How lovely it is. How problematic. Did Shakespeare end up in hell for all the souls he stole in the theatre? I pray for him if that was ever the case. And not because his soul wandered into eternal damnation. Oh no, there's a fate much worse than that, and his name is Alastor.

When the heart becomes stale it also becomes a waste of space, a space that could be used for more lung capacity instead. Because of this reason, Alastor often had thoughts of compulsively ripping it right out, especially, strangely, and more so now that it was finally of use. If Shakespeare really was in hell, Alastor wanted to kill him. If he was a bug, he'd place the man beneath Nifty's blade. And if he was in Heaven- which would be unwarranted given all the hearts he's crushed- Alastor would find a way to drag him down into Hell to watch his tragic little heart suffer for eternity. Because it's his texts in which Alastor has stumbled upon. And it's from his texts in which Alastor has learnt about love and all it has to offer.

Alastor is a refrained lover, if you could call the demon a lover at all. At best he's okay at love, if thats what you wanted to call whatever the thing Alastor thinks "love" is.

Being an overlord, you'd think he was capable of anything.

Uhh lower your expectations sis.

Problem No.1 with Alastor (which was really hard to find) is that he's not really the lovey dovey type. Does he get passionate about certain things? Of course darling. But when was the last time it was about a lowly sinner like yourself? (Hear the crickets babe? Yea pretty much that).

However I feel like this is true only for a few years after he's met you.

I'd say it's a "You-fell-first-(but then lowkey realised it ain't never happening type thing so you stopped)-he-fell-harder-(and got confused so didn't pursue it for like six fuxking months)

Being an overlord you'd think he was capable of anything but in all honestly love confuses this sweet🍬, sweet🍭, neurotic👹 boy.

His heart is in tatters and moth eaten like some dusty old drape. Nobody's ever come into his life that mattered to him much before.

And when I say "mattered" it doesn't come under the "slightly useful to him but couldn't care less" umbrella either.

Like it's a genuine feeling of not wishing for somebody to just fucking up and leave his demonic little world.

It's as if you're just so convenient for him to be able to slot you into his crazy, batshit puzzle of a life. And you fit so perfectly and meticulously, and you make it look rather complete, that he just doesn't really feel he needs you gone.🙂🙃

And thats his very lopsided version of love that he hasn't created a full understanding around yet. But hopefully will... one day.💕

Why would someone like him like someone like you!?? 🤯😧

Oh please bitch Alastor in Alastor's world is a special, clever little princess, nobody can top him.

When he first laid eyes on you, you were just another darling sack of shit staying at the Hazbin sorry not sorry. (Boo me idc this is how your love story goes 😤)

You weren't special at all. In fact, to him you were just a normal bad sinner doing the normal bad sinner things. There was nothing alluring about you, there was not a single aura or attractive quirk or special little something on the inside nor the outside that made him love you. You were like a crusty little stray dog, period. Not even a cute one.

In fact not even your death story was cool you got like hit by a bus or something idfc but it was nothin striking babes

You weren't even that bad of a sinner tbh. You were just a lying cheating fu k that got hit by a bus before you could find Jesus and repent

Anyways then you have Radio Demon, Overlord, Mr.Alastor who can do funny shit with his shadows oh dear lord save me

So as I said before, you, my dear, had a little crush for him first. Or, more realistically, you caught the love bug. Because don't we all know how little Nifty loves her bugs (dead).

Yes, you hiccupped on your blushy, fluffy feelings because trying to find genuine love and care within Ali's cold little heart at the time would've been damn near impossible. Like being stuck in a maze within a maze within a stone wall that had no exit.

So, yes dear, a hard pill to swallow ik but you got there in the end .

Over the years following, you and Alastor became a nice little duo. Like an elegant doberman and it's small rat-dog companion (guess which ones which).

Everybody in the Hazbin hotel has their own little niche, whether it be porn-starring or bar tending.

Yours was running errands for Alastor.

In his eyes you were comparable to an assistant even though the title was never officially yours. And he didn't want it to be yours because the role of facilities manager was a one person job.

Besides you did other things than just hotel errands.

You were more like an assistant Alastor. And that suited the both of you just fine. To Alastor you were remarkably useful, to you Alastor was an interesting boss and a form of strange company you somehow enjoyed. His presence, albeit staticky, was charming. He was a hard one to shake off, that man.

And then he began noticing you. And not just in the general way. I mean thats how it all starts off doesn't it?

It starts with a moment.

His boring "normie" of a companion... charmed him in some way. He didn't know how.

It was after one of his avid radio broadcasts when he switched off the set and just sat there in the silent darkness illuminated by the controls. Not even his voice filled the air, which was a strange noise to behold. Oddly peaceful, huh.

And then it got him thinking about your voice and how it could come and disrupt his blissful, peaceful silence at any moment. Pestering him with something new, as the very un-special sound of it filled the room.

You did like to disrupt things.

You've had your fair share of moments you've disrupted.

With your normal voice.

Filling the room.

It got his cogs spinning as he thought about you so normal and dull and boring. But it seemed that he really did know quite a lot about you.

You were never a drug addict in the middle world, never any kind of addict, never any kind of slave to anything or anybody but the lies you told others. Admirable achievement in this crowd down here.

But still, what a boring Mary Sue.

Typical Mary Sue behaviour that you should also try and recover from your compulsive lying, and actually bother to make use of the facilities the Hazbin Hotel had to offer.

Charming. But petty.

Just today he had asked you about an errand you'd run, only to find out that you had lied about running it.

You were supposed to have given some bird food to the cuckoo in the cuckoo clock. It was a fools errand he had given you to make you go away for a second. But you had told him you had actually done it.

Until you admitted you lied.

Inside the broadcast tower, Alastor let out a quiet laugh. He didn't know why it was quiet, he was the only person in the tower, and even if he were with other people its not like he'd care.

But what was so funny?

He thought back to the conversation: "I don't know what you're talking about," you had told him. "I never fed the stupid clock." And then he said, "Oh dear, well thats quite contrary to what I was told before." And you said, "damnit" under your breath and walked away, annoyed at yourself for having broken your sobriety, going to go repent to Charlie for the fifth time that day.

Again, Al found himself smiling ever wider and trying to keep his steady flow of chuckles beneath his fingers. Soon he was hunched over, finding other stories about you drifting to his head.

Unbeknownst to him, the layer of ice on his heart was slowly beginning to melt in the section that he reserved for you.

He realised you were such a funny fickle little thing, he realised he was quite fond of you as his assistant. It made no sense. And after the laughter was over something else took over.

A sense of something between fiery anger and grief contaminated his pores. He realised he had let you into his heart. He tried to quickly freeze it over again, however, it was too late, it seemed you had already brushed its surface.

The next day when you two were busying yourselves with errands, you came across each other in a hallway.

There was something off about his face on this particular day. Because when you looked at his face which was watching over your face, you never found his signature smile. For once you saw his lips relaxed. For once you saw his elusive eyes really looking at you like nobodies ever looked at you before.

And then he walked right past like nothing happened. However something had happened. Something incredibly unexpected and wrong. Radio Demon, Overlord, Mr. Alastor had found someone who mattered.

Boring, normie, lacklustre, lukewarm, little. Old. You.

It's a quiet day at the Hazbin Hotel. But it's always a quiet day isn't it? Hell is rock bottom, and once you hit rock bottom, well, what's the point in not wandering around for a bit?

You were only here because Charlie picked you up before the Sinners mentality could reach you.

At the same time, you were also only here because of Alastor.

Alastor, the lean, lanky overlord which you couldn't help but like somewhat. Cold and calculating despite the warm colours he wore. charming and pleasant despite his scary appeal. He was one reason why you enjoyed your stay at the Hazbin Hotel.

But he was also one reason why you hated it.

Lately anyway.

You've tried to bring it up with him but he simply won't listen. He doesn't even laugh anymore he just grimaces. It's been two whole months since he last smiled at you and you feel as though your beginning to get withdrawals- as sappy as that sounds. But it's true. As funny as it is to say, hell seems less pleasant, and even the Hazbin, despite Miss Morningstar's lovely presence, is falling short of joy and dunking deeper into the gloomy reality that is damnation.

They say that reality is just your perception. However, why has your perception been so fragmented by just a absence of a single smile?

Oh but you knew didn't you? You still loved him.

You thought you were past it but you weren't. You're such a brilliant liar that you can even trick yourself into believing things that aren't true. How remarkable. How depressing.

Ugh.

He's probably finally gotten bored of you. In fact, you've probably bored him into some kind of chronic depression that triggers every time he see's your boring, depressing face. Double ugh. And now you can't stand to look in the mirror. Sometimes you lay awake at night wondering what you've done to him and if it's you that's broken his perfect smile or something else. But everything he does points at you, and with this ridiculous jacket of blame on your shoulders you don't know how to look in his eyes anymore without feeling humiliated.

Oh and now he's behind you, watching you sit beneath the stupid cuckoo clock with a pile of birdseed in your palm. Humiliating? No something worse than that. You must look ridiculous. Desperate. Ridiculously desperate.

'Well, I feel it's too late now don't you? That ridiculous lie is still a lie, also the bird isn't real if you didn't get the memo,' taunted the inevitably superficial voice of the radio host. You could feel him behind you but you couldn't see him. The mans presence was very strong, a quirk, perhaps, that came with being an overlord. Although at times you could hardly tell when he'd enter a room at all. 'Now, why are you sitting, staring at the wall like a dummy? Did dear Charlie put you in time out for being a liar?'

'Fuck you, Alastor,' you huffed, 'you know I'm working on it.'

'Not making much progress I see.'

You could hear his non-smile in his voice. You didn't even turn around, you didn't have to, plus, you didn't want to.

'After you're finished working out your lying problem, perhaps you should focus on your swearing problem,' he said. You could hear the ruffling of Al's suit as he presumably crouched down, and then the cold lick of his breath as he got close to your ear. 'It's not so classy, my dear, for someone like you to have such a foul mouth.'

'Fuck- I know- just fuck off!'

You heard Alastor tut behind you, sighing disapprovingly.

You turned and looked him in the eyes. They looked bemused, however, his mouth told you a different story. He looked slightly chilling without that smile of his. Perhaps that was another reason for your sleeping troubles lately. 'Go ahead and do it you creep, kill me, I know ya wanna,' you declared, he cocked his head to the side, terrifyingly interested in your proposition. You had to resist the urge to swallow. 'Also now I've seen you without a smile I think I've seen it all, kill me I'm ready.'

You were half joking, but you still watched Alastor out of the corner of your eye, a habit you had developed.

'No.'

'That's not like you, Alastor.'

'What can I say? I am a man of many surprises. And you're far too valuable to me to kill you, assistant.' He added the last part in slowly, watching you like a hawk.

And then you saw it.

The faintest glimmer of tooth.

The littlest crease beside his lip.

And did he just call you valuable? A compliment from Alastor? Kill me now, you thought, it wasn't gonna get much better than this. And then Alastor's distinct vocals piped up again, 'ha ha! You look dumbfounded, sweetheart. Is there something I can help you with?'

His smile disappeared. And so did that feeling of hope in your stomach, leaving you empty again, and so you said, 'what do you even want Alastor? why'd you come find me? You're just toying with me now.'

'I'm afraid I toy with everyone, assistant.'

You felt him watching you as you crossed the room and put the birdseed in the bin, you felt him watching you as you dusted off your hands and made your way to the door.

'Smile,' you ordered. One final attempt.

Once again he cocked his head, raising his eyebrows, no expression in the mouth and whatever expression was in the eyes seemed to be told in another language. 'And what do I get if I do that for you?'

'My smile.'

-

Alastor has been a mess lately.

A clean mess no doubt. But he's been walking around half naked for months, alas, he can't bring himself to smile, which was more like a piece for clothing for him now more than anything. It got to the point where the Radio Demon thought that it had finally lost it's sincerity and emotion. But clearly not, as it's absence has been due to nothing but sincerity and emotion, two things which Alastor had never really exercised. Two things which were out of his hands.

And it's been ever since he found you wandering the hellish plains of his mind.

Yes, he was the skeleton in the closet, the monster beneath the bed, the not-your-typical-spooky-guy. But maybe he's finally found a weakness, and that thought slapped his smile right off his face.

And his assistant was all to blame.

You were all to blame.

He found his hands shaking as he looked at you, he carefully analysed that angry look about you as you stood rigidly at the door. There was nothing threatening about you, your face wasn't scary like his was, however he found himself mildly irritated by your defiances' today, mildly saddened at your obvious depression, and mildly livid that he couldn't get you off his mind.

So no, he wasn't threatened, you just mildly made him want to pull his hair out.

'Smile.'

'And what do I get if I do that for you?'

'My smile.'

Your smile? And what was that supposed to mean? Was he supposed to rip your mouth off and take your smile for his own? He looked at you, he looked at your lips, imagined touching them, imagining slicing them off you as your blood spilled and you screamed. And then he found himself putting the thought down, finding that he didn't really want that thought. How strange. Your smile wouldn't suit his face anyway, it looks much sweeter on you.

'If you smile at me I'll smile at you back,' you clarified, still with that rather hostile look in your eyes. You didn't really look in the smiling mood darling.

But it gave Alastor pause for thought.

Oh. So that's what you meant. Interesting. An equal exchange.

Al brought the memory of your smile up in his mind. It was pleasant enough. Charming enough... Oh who was he kidding? Sometimes he wished you could tell him the lies he told himself so he'd believe them better.

Your smile. It was sweet and dainty and lovely, and there was not a night that had passed in which he hadn't thought about it in some fleeting way.

Squeezing, hurting, reaching. He wanted to rip his heart out right then and there as he looked at you glaring at him from the doorframe.

And that's when he walked right up to you without warning. You barely had time to back away. And he took in your wonderful face with all of your wonderful features, from the lovely curve of your nose, to the shape of your very skull, to the fat of your cheeks to the pigment of your skin (which had turned wonderfully rosy beneath his fingers).

And then he took in your smile.

And he realised he was smiling too.

And he was so angry with himself, and irritated at you for making him feel this way. And so he leaned in and carefully placed his lips onto the corner of your mouth. Wanting to do it again and again and again but worried that he could smudge away the perfection that was you.

In the end he just grinned at you.

...

And then walked away like nothing happened.

...

A/N- Ik the tiny one shot at the end is shit but it's like 1 am and I have school tomorrow, I've watched like 4 episodes and I don't even know who tf Lucifer is yet so don't even come at me bitchens 🖕🥷

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #x reader #vivienne medrano #radio demon x you #radio demon x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor oneshot #alastor headcanons #radio demon

[angelsanarchy]

Fever Dreams: Mike x Y/N One Shot Series PRT 10

Tagging: @icarus-star @chainsawgvtsfvck @romanroyapoligist @liquidsmoothdomme @madamemaximoff06 @drazenka @blacksoul-27 @444rockstargf @kappasbbgirl @luzclarita57 @tempt-ress

Mike was enjoying laying back on his brand new couch watching TV when he heard the phone upstairs ringing again. Leff had a girl upstairs so he wasn't about to go up and answer it but whoever was trying to reach him, kept calling until he finally stormed out of his room and yelled, taking it off the hook.

About 10 minutes later, Mike's cellphone rang. It was Y/n.

"Oh please tell me this is a booty call." Mike teased hearing her huff.

"Where is your stupid ass uncle at and why isn't he answering the fucking phone?" Y/n asked sounding annoyed.

"He has company tonight so he doesn't want to be interrupted." Mike explained putting the phone up in the air so she could hear the thumping of the headboard and a woman moaning.

"And you're what? Sitting there jerking it while he's getting laid?" Y/n laughed.

"No I'm laying on my new couch and watching TV." Mike felt a sense of pride letting her know he had gotten the couch. Before he could say anything else, he was getting a Facetime request from her. He tried to sit up and not look so haggard before he accepted the call. Her face popped up and she smiled.

"I wanna see the couch!" Mike panned the phone down showing her the couch as he was lying on it.

"I'm saving a spot on it for you whenever you're done playing hard to get." Mike teased.

"Baby I am hard to get but the couch is nice. You picked a good one." She smiled as Mike laid back.

"You're totally listening to them fuck, you perv." She stares at Mike who turns the phone towards the TV.

"I'm watching the TV!" He defends.

"Mmhmm I see that hand placement." Mike hadn't realized his hand was resting on his dick atop his sweatpants.

"I'm comfortable like this. You could be too but-"

"Why would I want to hang out on your new couch and listen to Leff fuck some poor woman's brains out?" Y/n asked playfully.

"You wouldn't be. You'd be getting your own brains fucked out." Mike corrected seeing her lay back on her own couch.

"Is that so? You would just have me sitting on your lap, riding you on your brand new couch to break it in?" Y/n teased, Mike felt himself growing hard just listening to her talk.

"I like the sound of that. You could ride whatever you wanted but i absolutely want you to sit on my face." Mike rubbed his hand on the outside of his pants, bringing his cock to life fully.

"You want me to tell you what we would do?" Y/n asked catching Mike's attention. He looked at her and licked his lips.

"I'd prefer you just show me but-"

"I wouldn't let you touch, I'd only let you watch. I'd let you sit right where you are, cock in hand and watch me get myself off a foot away from you at the other end of that couch." Y/n's tone changed and Mike pulled his cock out, listening to her talk.

"If you're a good boy, I might even give you the smallest taste of my pussy but only after I've made myself cum." Mike swallowed the lump in his throat wishing it was her hand on his cock.

"Where's the fun in that? I could make you cum." Mike breathed and Y/n rested her chin on her hands.

"Yeah? How would you make me cum? Riding that pretty cock? Sitting on that cute face until you can't breathe." Y/n moaned through the phone and she noticed Mike's jaw was a bit slack. He was actively jerking off as she spoke.

"Are you touching yourself sweetie?" Y/n asked and Mike nodded his head.

"You've got me hard as fuck right now, I have to." Mike breathed into the phone and Y/n giggled.

"Prove it." She wiggled her eyebrows and Mike flipped the camera so she could see him jerking his cock.

"Mmmm that's a very naughty boy. Who said you could jerk off?" Y/n asked making Mike's hand pause for a moment.

"I mean...you could always come over and jerk me off. I wouldn't mind." He laughed feeling his cheeks flush.

"Can't. I'm busy tonight." She sighed as he continued to slowly stroke himself again.

"You want me to beg huh? You're one of those?" Mike smirked at her and she cocked her eyebrow.

"Are you calling me a tease?" She asked for clarification.

"Maybe...I mean-"

"Well in that case, I hope you finish yourself off without visual aid. Enjoy your night." She ended the call and Mike was floored. She really was a tease but what she didn't know was he had been getting himself off thinking about fucking her since they met. He pointed his phone at his cock and continued to jerk himself, trying not to whimper as he thought about her lips wrapped around him, her eyes staring up at him and her cupping his balls in her hands. He wanted to make her gag on his cock so bad that when he finally did cum, he moaned her name as his cum spit out all over his abdomen.

He took a few deep breaths before he stopped the video. He looked at himself and knew he was a mess but the anticipation of actually fucking Y/n was going to be the death of him.

#Mike #Mike x Y/N #FIlm: 5lbs of Pressure #5lbs of Pressure #Fever Dreams #Fever Dreams series #One Shot Series #Rory Culkin #Culkin Cult

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 10.1 - magic man

Rating: mature (angst, language)

Word Count: 1800

A/N: this is the epitome of drama. sorry, not sorry.

☾

Cold, late night so long ago When I was not so strong you know A pretty man came to me I never seen eyes so blue You know, I could not run away it seemed We'd seen each other in a dream

☾

February 14, 1984 - junior year

Eddie tapped his pencil on the desk with nothing but resentment.

After school detention was a literal hell. His punishment was to write lines, I will not vandalize school property, over one hundred times on the paper in front of him. But it wasn't his handwriting, or his paper, or even the detention itself, that irritated him.

It was the fact that you were in there with him, sitting a mere four desks away, and he hadn't heard a goddamn word from you in over two months.

He stewed over what you could possibly be writing lines for. Have you ever even been assigned detention before? A few punishments popped into his mind that he thought you deserved.

I will not abandon so-called friends.

I will not be the epitome of avoidance.

I will not ignore Eddie Munson in the halls every fucking day.

I will not make out with a man on New Year's Eve then literally act like he's a stranger the next day.

The pencil suddenly snapped in his hand, and Eddie threw the pieces on the floor.

Mr. Eulin, the unfortunate teacher supervising this detention, immediately saw this. Eddie could have snorted with arrogance at the fact that Eulin actually looked up from his Anne Rice novel to shoot him a nasty glare.

"Munson, pick that up or it's another detention for you tomorrow."

"Oh, woe is me."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing, sir."

"That's what I thought. Now clean up the mess."

Eddie looked towards the windows, bright warm light shining through the dusty panes of glass. It was a freezing February day in Hawkins, but the sun seemed to wish differently.

He knew that you were looking at him. He could feel your eyes on him, even though you were a few rows back. Anger rose up, like a disease feasting on its victim, his stomach turning over. There was no controlling it now.

Lacing his words with instigation, he touched the piece of paper in front of him, crumpling it slightly. 

"Sir, I would much rather watch Buckley pick up the pieces."

Eulin stared at him again, his bushy eyebrows rising up in surprise as he flopped his book on the desk. 

He knew he was already dead set on another detention. Like a wrongfully accused prisoner on death row, Eddie Munson felt the need to be vindicated. What else did he have to lose? It was fucking Valentine's Day, of all days, and your stare on the back of his head in detention was burning holes through his skull.

"Now, why on God's green Earth would your fellow student do that? You got a bug up your ass, Munson?"

"Maybe. There's definitely something up there, sir. Wanna check?"

The old man before him nearly had an aneurysm. Exactly what Eddie wanted. He didn't even need to turn his head to see your reaction, he could literally hear you fidgeting in your chair, picking at your fingers.

 "Munson! Out, now. Let's go, tough guy." Eulin stood up, pointing at the door.

Faking reluctance, Eddie also rose from his desk. All of the students in the room were focused on him now. Honestly, he just wanted an excuse to get the fuck out of the same room that you were in.

Before leaving the classroom, Eddie balled up the paper on his desk and chucked it at you. It hit your chest, making you jump, but you still refused to look him in the eye.

In the hallway, Eulin still had his index finger out, this time in Eddie's face.

"You think you're untouchable, don't you?"

Eddie leaned against the locker behind him and didn't respond. He turned his head away from the educational professional trying to verbally assault him.

"Munson. Listen up. You're going to end up just like your father. Doesn't surprise me one bit that you're in detention every other week these days. I would shoot myself in the foot before I'd believe you would graduate."

Inching closer to Eddie, Eulin's face began to redden. At the close proximity, Eddie visibly flinched, resisting the urge to bitch slap the man with a fat finger too close to his face.

"You are the scum of Hawkins."

☾

"Come on home, girl" he said with a smile "You don't have to love me yet, let's get high awhile But try to understand, try to understand Try, try, try to understand, I'm a magic man"

☾

The classroom door was already open, but you slammed it against the wall anyways.

"Fuck you, Eulin."

Taking a step back from the brown eyed boy on the lockers, Eulin was stunned to see another one of his students beginning to cause a scene.

"Girl, you better get back in the-"

You laughed rudely, immediately interrupting him. "You think I'm going to let you talk to him like that?"

"What's going on here? Buckley, get back in that classroom," Eulin choked out.

Eddie stared unabashedly at you. One hand was clenched in a fist, ready to go down swinging at his teacher's harsh words. His other hand rose to his own mouth in shock.

But you ignored Eddie's presence, as usual. You just hounded Eulin.

"Sir, I'm not going back in there." 

Your words were polite on paper, but the tone of your voice was the exact opposite. Eulin seemed as speechless as Eddie. 

A few seconds of stuttering, and Eulin finally found a comeback. "Buckley, don't you dare get involved in this. Don't be a failure like Munson."

Eddie audibly gasped as you actually spit in the teacher's face, saliva dripping down Eulin's cheek.

"Fuck. You." 

And then you were gone, rushing down the hallway towards the doors leading outside.

☾

Winter nights we sang in tune Played inside the months of moon "Never think of never let this spell last forever" Well, summer lover passed to fall Tried to realize it all Mama says she's worried, growing up in a hurry

☾

"Buckley! Buckley! Helloooo, feral woman on the loose!" 

Eddie ran after you, abandoning detention, abandoning Eulin standing dumbstruck in the hallway. He finally caught up with you as you made your way through the parking lot, your hair flying in the frosty wind.

"Hey!" he touched your shoulder, trying to slow you down. "Will you talk to me?"

You shrugged his hand off and kept walking. "What's there to talk about? Eulin's an asshole. End of story."

"Oh, sunshine, I think there's a lot that needs to be discussed between us."

"No idea what you're rambling on about," you mumbled.

"You gonna ignore me for another two months?"

You almost paused for a second. Eddie knew your mind was racing, he could see how tensed your muscles were as you stormed past the parked cars. 

Eddie continued to poke at your temper. "Where are you even going? You don't have a car, you don't have a license. You don't even know how to drive!"

Turning on him in a flash, the look in your eyes made Eddie stop in his tracks. 

"Maybe I'd know how to drive if you actually taught me like you said you would!"

Eddie snorted. "C'mon, now. That's not what this is about. People don't just spit on teachers because they're butt hurt about not being able to drive."

You threw your hands in the air, let out a frustrated laugh, and stomped away. "You're the one who brought up the license thing! You're such an infuriating creature."

But Eddie was surprised to see you stop right at his van, which was parked at the back of the lot. You sat on the rear bumper.

Now it was his turn to be dumbstruck. 

"Happy Valentine's Day, Eddie," you exclaimed sarcastically. "Take me home, will you?"

☾

"Come on home, girl" he said with a smile "I cast my spell of love on you, a woman from a child" But try to understand, try to understand Oh, oh, try, try, try to understand, He's a magic man, oh, he's got the magic hands

☾

Instead of taking you back to your own house, Eddie drove towards Forest Hills trailer park. He knew that you were confused, but you remained silent in his passenger seat the entire drive, peeling some paint off the trim of the door.

The van came to an abrupt halt in the grassy area of his uncle's trailer. Eddie could see a few small kids running around the other homes, screaming and playing.

He was struck with nostalgia from his childhood, back when things weren't complicated by a doomed future and unruly hormones and a drunk father in jail for dealing drugs.

"Why'd you bring me here?" you uttered quietly, ripping him from his tortured thoughts.

"This is my home now, Buckley. If you would have been a good friend the last couple months, you'd know I moved in with my uncle a little sooner than I anticipated."

Eddie didn't try to hide the bitterness in his voice. He wanted you to know how hurt he was. Before you could get a word in, he snapped on you.

"Did you even think about checking on me when my dad went to jail? The whole damn town was talking about it. I'm really living up to the infamous Munson name, aren't I? I'm a pariah, a phenomenon."

You chewed on your lip, staring heatedly out of the window. "Of course I thought about you."

Gripping the steering wheel, he was seething. "So why have you been ignoring me? You act like New Year's never happened. So help me God, if you don't answer-"

"You know why I was in detention?"

Distracted, Eddie's leg bobbed with anxiety. "No, but you've piqued my interest."

"Eulin caught me trying to put something in your locker this morning."

"Something? What something? Why would that land you in detention?"

You huffed. "A letter. And I got detention because I wouldn't give it to him."

Eddie thought for a moment and laid his hand out dramatically. "May I have my letter, then?" 

You gently slapped his outstretched palm away from you.

"No," you replied offhandedly. "I tossed it."

He rolled his big brown eyes and opened the driver's side door, hopping out. The snow crunching underneath his boots was harsh. The cold air filled his lungs, forcing his nerves to calm and bringing him back to some kind of reality.

Walking around to the passenger side, he opened your door for you. 

"Come inside, then. I can make us some hot chocolate."

☾

But try to understand, try to understand Try, try, try to understand, he's a magic man

☾

(song lyrics credit: "Magic Man" by Heart)

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[lostinvasileios]

Hi! I’m sorry if my question seems to be silly, but I really was wondering.

Have you ever saw and/or heard you deities? How do you do that? I’ve never experienced something like that, but I see people sharing this sort of experience. Like… they can describe appearance, voice etc of their deities. How? I fully rely on my gut in my journey, but I do wish to see, hear and know my deities in face. So, if my question doesn’t bother you, could you share your experience and tips, please?

Thank you!

Hello there, lovely!! Your question isn't silly at all, don't worry. Thanks for asking. 🤍🌼

I indeed have! I've seen/felt and heard my deities before. And, the process to be able to do this is different for everyone.

But, for me, it took countless hours of meditation with them, I was spending so much time focusing on my already existing abilities. Like my active imagination, my sense of visualization that came from that, and so on and so forth which would eventually allow me to begin to see my beloved deities. Being able to recognize their energy soon led me to being able to comprehend their voices and feel their touches. Then that got me into the process of being able to see them.

Gut feelings are actually one of the ways you can get to learn your deities appearance as well. You could try and picture them from whatever comes to mind. A pop culture artwork of them, maybe a livened version of their statue, someone pretty on Pinterest with a few extra features, ect. Deity appearances are very fluid, and can change depending on any factor, so there's no pressure on finding out what they "exactly" look like. Because, they have no exact look. Just take whatever feels best for you. That's what it will come down to most of the time, anyway. What resonates. Like always, lol.

Actually, for about 6 months of being able to see them at first, I couldn't register their voices outside of when they would speak. If that makes sense, lol. Like, I'd understand it when they'd talk to me, but when they weren't speaking, I couldn't recall their voice, just what they had said. Sometimes, their appearance will do the same. You'll see it in the moment, you'll feel or hear them in the moment, then whenever that interaction/meditation ends - so does the...sensation? of them. You know?

For some part of my time with Apollon at first, I'd simply spend my time scrolling through Pinterest for pictures that reminded me of him. I kept them in a sort of e-altar board for him so I could go back and refresh my mind if I was having trouble seeing him in my imagination. Since, sometimes, it helps to simply - daydream of their appearances. At least for me. Getting more used to their eye colors, their body languages, imagine them speaking to you every now and then to try and have their voice be easier to comprehend, stuff like that.

Don't rush it, I can almost guarantee that you'll see and sense your deities in these ways eventually. However, they know what's best in the end. Seeing deities, feeling them, hearing them, ect - can be quite the energy drainer because of how high frequency they are and whatnot. Even if they lower themselves to some extreme degrees to be able to show themselves to us in these ways. So, if you aren't experiencing it just yet, that's probably because you aren't ready for it. Comprehending deities is a difficult task for anyone at first, and can be a persistent struggle even over months. And that's perfectly fine. Because these are celestial beings of the stars and all that other universe-y stuff, we as humans are conditioned not to believe these astral realm things because of how unlimited it all is. Of how... Ironically unbelievable the experience is.

So, even when you're sensing them, your brain will be like "mm...no" most of the time when you're first getting the hang of it. Out of the want to protect you and whatnot.

Deities will 9/10 times try their darndest to help you comprehend them by coming in appearances of like... TV characters, like I've heard some people see Loki as the Loki from the marvel series. Or, how you see book characters. There's been a few times where Aphroditus has appeared to me as a fanart of Lucien from ACOTAR that I loved and made the way I see him whenever he's present in the book. Their voices just the same. They might sound like a singer you very much enjoy, or like a comfort character of yours. I could go on, but I think you get the point, haha.

I saw Apollon as the Apollo from Blood of Zeus without ever having watched or have had heard of it, I only noticed he was taking that form after I looked up his name on Pinterest, and I just went with it. Same with Dionysus. Point is, let them show themselves to you however your brain allows them. I put so much tremendous pressure on myself to perfectly memorize how my higher self looked or how my deities looked, just to be reminded how their forms are infinite. How - they don't want you to stress over that.

They don't want you to feel less because you cannot experience them in the way another devotee can, because that's them, this is you. And they love you. And they'll meet you where you're at to help you progress and grow.

My motto for this? It'll happen when it happens, and when it does - I know they'll be refreshingly, ravishingly beautiful.

I never liked surprises, but, hey. When your deity pops out with a new look entirely and it takes the breath out of you to see it - you get more accustomed to it over time, haha.

Sorry if I dragged this on, I love questions like these lol. I hope it helped!! Blessed be. 💛🤍💛

#witchcraft #deities #deity work #witch advice #deity witch #helpol #hellenic deities #hellenic polytheism #deity #deity advice #hellenic worship #deity worship #deity witchcraft #deity sensing #clairsenses #mother witch advice

[xenocorner]

(If you're someone who enjoys my work, and also happens to like/support AI generated images, please give this a read? Just hear me out, please. This is not a bashing post, I promise. It's not pro-ai either though. But please hear me out)

This whole AI art stuff is just getting... Honestly exhausting. If you are someone who supports AI generated images, I beg of you, hear me out? I'm not here to bash, to say you're a bad person or a thief. I know it's more complex than that. I'm just, trying to express how I feel about this whole ordeal. I'm not here to get angry either. I don't have the energy for that. I'm also not trying to change your mind. Just, hopefully help you see/feel a different perspective? That's all.

Long rant under the cut because. There's a lot.

I'm not even angry anymore. I don't have the energy for that. But I keep seeing AI images all over, everywhere. The thing is getting better (because of course it is). And I see more and more people support it. And sometimes those people are also artists or people who like art and support artists.

And then I also see artists be laid off. I see how it gets harder and harder to make a break in the industry. And even after you make it you get laid off because... People don't wanna bother with it anymore. Corps would rather cut costs.

And then I see people defend AI images. Say it's okay, that it isn't stealing from artists, that it is just a tool, ignoring a huge part of the problem (whether willfully or not).

And it just makes me so incredibly sad. So utterly devastated.

I was angry. I really used to be angry. I'm just hurt now. Hopeless for the future. And tired. Really really damn tired.

Tired of artists having to justify their existance in the professional world. Tired of people just saying... No.

No, you don't get to thrive. And you're selfish and entitled for wanting to thrive. No, you don't get to feel hurt when your work gets scrapped without your permission to feed a data base designed to replace you. No, you don't get a say in this. Don't like? Bohoo, don't see.

Well, how can I not see when this issue directly affects how I live? How can I not see when this issue affects my future? It's not just a matter of "Don't like x kind of content, don't interact with it". It really is not. I really wish it was, I wish it was that simple. But it's not. Because this is not something like a ship or a trope that one can ignore and not be affected. This is like trying to ignore a dumpster fire in your neighborhood. Yeah, you can avoid looking at it. You can avoid talking about it. But the smoke is still getting into your house. You're still breathing it. It's still hurting you. It will have effects on your life, whether you like it or not.

I threw away 12 years of my life building up my skill to work in a field that feels like it's dying out. Am I (and countless other artists) just supposed to start over? How? Time is unforgiving.

Bohoo for your bad choices, suck it up. Your fault for pursuing art as a career.

Was I supposed to just, KNOW, somehow, that the career I choose, that used to be viable, would just... Take this turn? Was I supposed to have a 10 year look into the the future?

You should create for the joy of creating!

I do. I love creating. I love making people happy with my work. Work I spent years perfecting. It's the most beautiful feeling in the world to know that someone smiled or cried or felt something because of something I did. It makes me smile and cry too.

But I also like to be able to eat. To have a roof. To pay for my meds. And the joy of creating honestly dwindles each time I see people talk about AI images the same way they talk about a painting in the Louvure.

Becaus they do. I've seen people talk about images generated by a machine (built upon stealing artwork from unconsenting artists) like they're the work of God. And they write such beautiful things too. And I'm left baffled, confused, uneasy.

And then I go to see artists, living, breathing, feeling artists, who create marvelous pieces, who pour their heart into their work, who shed sweat blood and tears to get their skills to where they are, who are still shedding sweat blood and tears to keep improving... And they don't even get a 'nice'. They've been job searching for 3 years. They can't get a steady flow of commissions. They're scrambling to be able to get a table at a con.

And it hurts to my very core.

It hurts in a place I don't even know how to describe, because it's so deep and so personal and so raw that I don't think there's a name for it.

I love art. I love it so damn much. I love making it, I love sharing it, I love teaching it.

I think many other people love art too. I think many other people who love art don't even consciously realize they do.

And it hurts seeing art just... Become this.

It hurts seeing the artistic souls of this earth be pushed down and down again and again over and over and be told to just. To just suck it up.

To die off.

Because when people support AI images, they are telling us to die off. It feels like they are telling us to die off.

And I don't think the people who do realize it at all, because a lot of people who support AI images are not bad people. They are not. They enjoy art too. But they are, consiously or not, directly or indirectly, hurting the artists whose work made the data base AI generators use possible.

They're telling us to die off because they already have our work. And they can use it to generate new, regurgitated work faster, cheaper. They don't need us. So while they may like what us, artists, do, they're feeding a system that is killing us off. Both metaphorically and literally. Metaphorically by killing the will to create. Literally by taking our living off of us (or at least to those who's art is their living. Like myself).

And again.

It hurts so damn much.

And I don't think a lot of people manage to see the hurt past all the anger.

I, personally, have grown exhausted and there's no anger left in me, only sad and hurt.

But I promise you, behind every angry and fighting and barking and bitting artists there is out there, there's hurt. There's some form of hurt behind each and every one of them. Of us.

I really hope this reaches the right people. Whether that be a fellow artists struggling to get their feelings into words to let them know they're not alone. Or someone who supports AI images, and supports artists too, and can maybe get a glimpse into a side of this whole issue. Not necessarily to change their mind but, maybe help them understand better where all the anger from artists may be coming from.

Please, I'm not here to start any fights or debates. I really am not. I just need to get this sort of thing out there, because I think talking about it is important.

#Rambles #I know I have some followers that like my work that also like AI #I still love you #I know you don't try to do harm and are just here to vibe about the same blorbos #I know you like art in general #But I'd wish you could hear me out on this #Even if it doesn't change your perception

[doctorwhoisadhd]

there's a certain quality the harmonies of like... early to mid 2000s alt rock has. which i am obsessed with... like i wanna do that. i NEED to figure out how to write harmonies that sound like that

#ari opinion hour #i sort of understand it but not necessarily well enough to do it on command #i think i sort of achieved the sound of it with my blaseball winter exchange song i did for snow but specifically only in the very last bit #like only with the 'im not alive anymore' part #(which sidenote i wish id had the second half faster + w more drive but its not like that was like a full recording which i could do) #i think i just need my music to have more teeth in general cause it scratches an itch that i think i must have developed due to some aspect #of music school. its probably my dissatisfaction with the attitudes in the classical world #<- which understand i say that in the same way that like my jazz prof does. the classical world doesnt have enough teeth nor enough #understanding of the way in which music is like. another art. and art needs to be able to have teeth and use elements normally regarded as #''undesirable'' on purpose because art is there to make you feel emotions and not just the positive ones and not just sadness or anger in #terms of the negative ones #art is there to make u feel ALL extant emotions and that includes boredom disgust fear jealousy pity cowardice apathy overwhelmedness etc #also the classical world i find often forgets what the word ''play'' means #i am of the opinion that perfection is a waste of time if i wanted perfect i'd ask a computer to do it for me. i want real #anyway. i forgot what this post was even about lol point is i need to figure out how to write harmonies that have that soaring quality that #like. you can hear it in like helena by mcr and wake me up by evanescence and stuff. and frankly most of the songs on three cheers for swee #revenge which i am listening to now for the first time. i need to learn more about this stuff maybe ill listen to the evanescence album tha #song is from next. #or something i should really be working on my essay but theres no way i wont have it done in time which is good i think i just mostly have #to worry about sources and stuff but even that should be relatively easy i think

[yeahlikethebird]

.

#okayokayokay though #i just had the cutest fucking video call with a guy who's so unbelievably sweet #we've been on and off slow-burning for like a year now and the more we talk the more i like him #and DUDE #i just had the gayest interaction #i'm floored by the fanfic nature of this exchange #because this is a long distance 'what even are we' dynamic so it's not like we're gonna say i love you really casually #and idk for sure that i would in person (i probably would have ages ago but that's not the point) #but i said i wished i could kiss him good night and he said he would like that too #and that he'd like to hold me and that it would feel meaningful #and i said 'i would find meaning in holding you too' and OMG #it didn't *totally* whollop me until I'd sent it that that's a really fucking good line (also this last exchange was textjng after the call) #fuckin... #on signal we don't say i love you we say i'd find meaning in holding you and i think that's beautiful #likely this will get deleted someday but i had to freak out about it somewhere #he's so hot and kind and genuinely interesting! and he likes hearing me talk about stuff too!

[afniel]

AH I REMEMBERED WHAT I WAS GONNA SAY EARLIER but it's kind of stupid, lmao.

So my partner is getting into brewing beer and I got them a Tilt, which is a Bluetooth hydrometer. It measures specific gravity and temperature, which are things you want to know so that you don't kill your yeast or whatever. Except the sensor's Bluetooth range is super short, and it basically runs via a phone app, and the temperature we're logging currently is the crawlspace, accessible via the staircase closet. So they were like, wait, what do we do about this, because I can't leave my phone in the closet, that's my alarm clock.

In a kind of ridiculous turn of life imitating art, I was like, hold up, I got just the thing right at my desk. Bam. Old phone. We just needed to scrounge up a charger because the battery is so dead that after charging just enough to power on it claimed it was at 53% (to be fair to it, there is a very real chance that it's correct, and it just holds no charge at this point so the capacity is just THAT low) and now it lives in the closet logging sensor data.

And I was like, you know...didn't I just solve a major story detail with a much larger version of this...yeah, no, this is all vaguely familiar somehow, power supply issues and all. Kind of cool that the concept works though. Kind of weird that it came up at all?

We are not gonna talk about the fact that I still have at least two more ancient-ass phones in a drawer where that came from because look, man, sometimes you just need a camera/mic/mini computer with Bluetooth and wifi that fits in a pocket, and people just get rid of these things, but not me. I actually could build a shitty security system out of them if I was reaaaally inclined. I mean. I'm not. But it's technically possible.

For real though, If I pick up any stupid maker projects I still high-key am thinking about slapping Bluetooth into a necomimi headset and running that through an Arduino and learning to code just enough to let me skip songs/change the volume on Spotify with my brain, because it's entirely doable, and I mean yeah I could do that on my phone remotely too, but that's not funny, now, is it. I'm just not sure it's $350+ of parts funny. Kind of a big investment just to prove the point that haha look I am the extremely ADHD type of lazy where I would rather solve a problem via the most convoluted and complicated Rube-Goldberg type ass machine way possible rather than just perform a single simple action.

YEAH I'VE BEEN THIS SCATTERED ALL DAY AND I REALLY SHOULD GO TO BED SHOULDN'T I. I started playing Satisfactory. Mistakes were made. I'm going to dream about conveyor belts again and I did it to myself...

#you know I used to mostly blog about witchcraft and paganism #and now I'm like. you know what I want to do? chain an EEG sensor to the Spotify API and skip songs with my brain. #it's kind of like magic when you put it like that. maybe things haven't actually changed that much after all #the headset idea actually came about bc I'd gotten so far into the writing zone that I literally just. tried to skip a song with my brain. #because I had so much reploid characters on my mind that it just sounded like a normal course of action I should be able to take #obviously it didn't work and cue me sitting there for a full 3 seconds going 'why didn't it. wait. why did I think it would?' #followed immediately after by 'YEAH BUT I PROBABLY COULD DO THAT ACTUALLY' #because you just Cannot write a character like Glitch without it rubbing off on you a little bit and WWGD kicked in real hard lmao #well obviously he'd [ridiculous chain of ideas ending in 'anyway I installed some shit and now I can control Spotify with my mind'] #and I gotta say I do not like the idea of sticking a sensor on the *inside* of my skull. sounds very bad. #but it doesn't have to be on the inside to work soooo there's that! #I have a friend who for quite a long time had a rare earth magnet in one finger so he could find live wires by touch #he ended up removing it for work eventually but when I say I was jelly. man. but also kinda squeamish about it. #I do not like sharp things and I am Very funny about my fingers as an artist/writer/used to be musician. #but man that sounds cool. I want the magnet senses. I don't think I want them enough to have a magnet under my skin though #I think I wouldn't use them enough for that to be helpful actually lmao #anyway do I even need more senses? probably not. mine are already unfiltered and loud as shit. #'boy I wish I could sense magnetic fields' says idiot guy who can hear the mains hum even with no electronics currently turned on #like when the power goes out I can FEEL the fucking difference in the air and it's unnaturally quiet and kinda spooky #I do not think I need help on this front actually. I think I got it handled pretty okay lol

[righteousliar]

not to be sad on main but I miss my mom

#especially our phone calls #she always had some wry take on something that found a way to make me laugh #grief tag #may as well toss that in there #but yeah i just really wish i could talk with her right now #I'd feel a lot less crazy if i could just call her and joke about how weird my life is right now and beg for some advice #even if realistically I'd take about 23% of it and ignore the rest to her ire #I'd kill to hear her tell me that it'll be fine. just one more time wouldn’t be enough but I would still take that in a heartbeat #i just had my 25th birthday recently and it felt so empty to experience a milestone without her #i know it's not that big but it got me thinking about bigger milestones #and it all snowballed from there #my dad and i have also been having trouble since earlier this year for reasons relating to her passing which has thrown a wrench into things #i wish i could call my mom to ask her how she would really feel about it. or just bitch about the situation for a while. #as it is it feels like my only two options are to grin and bear it at a detriment to myself or to speak my mind and hurt the relationship #and while she may not have a simple answer ready for me she would still listen to me and emphasize with my point of view #while also pointing out when I've gone way off base and have misunderstood the situation #idk um. if you got this far thanks for reading my ramblings ig? #mumblings

[nostalgia-tblr]

Re: Hunting for Sport Poll though, I do want to add (separately) that you don't have to feel bad about not knowing the history of every place on Earth, even the famous bits. The world is very large and history is very long and there is no way you'll ever know even a basic outline of everyone's national histories unless you spend all day every day doing nothing else. Think of how much time you spent in school in a history class and it's no longer quite so shocking that you don't know even quite major things from the history of wherever you live.

So, like. Don't beat yourself up over things you didn't know because nobody ever taught them to you. And hey, you know now!

#i have a history degree and there's huge bits of just UK history i know nothing about. because history is rly big! #it's like that douglas adams quote about space but with dead people in it #and after undergrad it'd be increasing detail about less and less span of history #you didn't choose your school's curriculum did you? no you didn't. #and you also had (still have really) all of science and animals and art and literature and etc you could learn about! #i def sometimes think “i wish more people knew about [THING]” but i know there's a lot of (sometimes very good) reasons they don't #besides beating yourself up for your past ignorance doesn't really help anyone with anything anyway does it? #i still remember when someone i knew suddenly asked me “have you ever heard of the Armenian Genocide?” - she wasn't into history really #she'd found out because she'd visited the Vatican while an Armenian was being made a saint and it was mentioned in the service #(do they call that a service?) there was an Armenian priest and he talked about it and she'd then spent several weeks when she got home #asking people if they knew about. because she was so shocked that nobody including her knew about this thing #but now she knows! and so do the people she told about it! she has kept that information circulating among people who normally #wouldn't ever hear about it. #(i can't even remember why i'd heard of it - it might have come up at university when we did the Nazis?) #history stuff #like idk don't revel in ignorance but don't guilt endlessly about stuff you just didn't know yet because nobody told you #you can't google something you didn't know even happened right?

[ihophashbrowns]

Are you planning to study in korea? I wouldn't abandon the idea if i were you, it's so much fun there. Keep working towards it and hoping, the opportunity will arise! ✨️

YEAHHHH it's been the plan for a while lol. honestly the main goal is just to be as far away from home as possible LOL that's why even the colleges I'm considering here in the states are HOURS away from the city i currently live in and i was just like. I'm learning korean anyway i might as wellllll get a more vivid experience

#im only considering ONE uni in ny city but even that is far enough from home #where i can be free of the madness.... #i DID find out abt this one program back in the summer where u can study a language in the country its spoken in. #theres multiple. like. study japanese in japan. italian in italy. etc etc that includes korean in korea... #ANYWAYS you can choose the timeframe ur there nd for 5 weeks it was. $5000+? 😭😭 iirc #nd i told my mom and she was like ohhhh if i had the money i'd send you but we're poor. so it's been just a wish for long time. and also 😭 #she was like ohhh ''youre gonna be so afraid theyre gonna be calling you the weird nigger girl'' like HUH #nd theres another part of the program abt accommodation where u could have host parents or stay in the residence..... #nd my mom was like ''u better not stay with a host family they'll take your id and passport and keep you in their house and i have no way #of getting to you i'll never hear from you again'' like she REALLY tried to dissuade me from wanting to go #nd then she was like ''why dont you just go to a college with an exchange program to get the experience''... #but i KNOW that once i go im not gonna want to leave 😭😭💀💀💀 i dont think she rlly understands that and i refuse to tell her #✉️ #anon

[5eraphim]

(Feel free to ignore this if you don't want to share, but I'm so curious!) What the HELL was that phantom of the opera fic about that made someone write an entire essay about 😭😭?

(while i'm alright mentioning that one time someone linked me a google drive multi-page document that was critical of a 5k word phantom of the opera x reader insert i wrote when i was 16, (i think i delete the original post for some reason? but i still have the SRB vers. with an extra note) bc like i said, i didn't read the doc bc even as a dumbass teenager, i knew if i tried to be fair and read the doc i'd just upset myself, and realistically learn nothing (and this whole event is extremally funny 7 years later) i would also like to reiterate, people who were in creative spaces online around the early-mid/late-mid 2010s know how freakishly normal it was to see grown ass adults compiling random ocs and fanarts and making lengthy videos railing on them for the sake of "constructive criticism" (i watch those videos too, i'm not saying i didn't participate/or that i'm above this or whatever) but it was really just so needlessly meanspirited, and made fandom-spaces, like y'know, hobby spaces so lame.)

ANYWAYS- i don't remember what exactly i wrote (bc thank GOD everything i wrote before this account has basically been lost to the sands of time, and i'd rather run into a burning building than try to find my old stuff and be face-to-face with whatever the hell i was writing back then)

but from what i remember the plot was basically phantom watching reader sleep and just having a big dramatic monologue about it. and also i'm pretty sure thought about cutting her head off in her sleep? like i remember vaguely writing a tangent while he was wondering how hard it would be to cut through the cervical vertebra that was like, "if you gave me the chance to pluck the bones from your neck, i'd cherish holding them with my bare hands. i wish i could cradle every little piece of you like that"

that's honestly the one part i really remember, it was like that and a lot of "i'm such a monster, how could she stomach sharing a bed" and other such emo, incel-y ramblings. i think i just wanted to write something about sharing a bed with a girl and wanting to rub my grubby undeserving hands through her hair and kiss her neck and shoulders. (and the fact it took me over a year later to realize i was bi, makes this so much funnier to me)

it was that sentiment but with much edgier, very chuck palahniuk-pilled prose.

(i'm not saying i didn't DESERVE an essay-length take down of what i wrote, i'm saying im just glad i didn't read it)

#im sorry this is so edgy for no reason i was goin through a lot back then ._. #none of you can see how much im cringing and calling myself a loser weirdo right now. but i promise. I Am. #anonymous #thank you so much for the ask <3 #but also i hate you for making me remember all this (kidding kidding ilyy) #but also hear me out- #that idea of i wish i could hold every piece of you with my hands- #is that not at least KINDA similar to the notion of 'i wanna shrink my fave character so i can stick them in a pringles can and shake it up #like i was kinda cookin for a second there! #but you know what actually weirder to me? #back then i never had people being rude in my comments or even offering criticism at all- #and then one day i find out the only rude comment i'd really gotten was this fucking ESSAY someone posted and backd up on a google doc #that's so wild to me

[xiaojuun]

sometimes i just wish i knew how to reach out to ppl and say i feel weird that we don't stay in touch . i don't like it but i don't know how to fix it . i miss you . i think about you . i'm sorry i never tell you when things remind me of you anymore

#u may be thinking well eri can you just say that ? the things u just said ? #no <3 i cannot <3 #avoidant personality problems i think . and also just like . idk what i'd say if someone said anything like that to me #and there's a lot of people that i just don't think would want to hear this from me but ... idk for like #friends that i just sort of have fallen out of touch with and nothing happened i wish i could just say all this #maybe one day i'll figure out how . who knows !