#and i need to work on my audios but i just… do not feel s*xy enough 😎 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skylarsblue · 1 year

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✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes, AGAIN AGAIN✦

Ghost: Release me, woman. Fem!Y/N: …. *hugs him tighter* :3 Ghost, scared of intimacy: UNHAND ME!- -- (Comedic Death Mention) Someone: I shot you six times hOW ARE YOU ALIVE?! Y/N: Fool! The only one that’s gonna knock me off is ME! Price: *PANICKING*

-- Gaz: What did you do? Soap: ….suckdickonaccident Gaz: What? Soap: Sucked dick on accident! Gaz: HOW THE FUCK DO YOU SU-

-- Gaz: Here. We’ll put your phone on the aux- Y/N: NO DON’T- Speakers on full volume: FUCKFUCKFUCKMEUPANDCUTCUTCU- Price: JESUS BLOODY CHRIST *shuts off radio* Soap: *scratching the inside of his ear* Steamin’ Jesus- Y/N: I tried to warn you! Gaz: Who listens to Slipknot at 0900?! Ghost: *raises hand* Gaz: That’s- okay that’s fair. Soap: I’ve gone deaf. Y/N: You’re a bomb tech, it was gonna happen eventually. Soap: *middle finger* Price: *disappointed sigh* It’s too early for this-

-- (This one’s kinda sad but I couldn't stop thinkin' bout it-) Alejandro: You used to be nice…or did you never used to be? Valeria: … Alejandro: Oh god…maybe you never used to be…

-- Not a quote but if any of you have heard that audio that’s the names of the Princes of Hell overlayed on Funky Town, please imagine Soap & Y/N dancing to the Funky Town portion while Ghost sits there menacingly. Thank you.

-- (Depression joke) Y/N: Ahaaaa I’m soooo unwell. Price: Go to the psyche- Y/N: Ya know what it never was? That serious. It was never that serious- Price: Get your ass back here- Y/N: NEVER!-

-- König: I’ll keep all my emotions right here, and then one day, I’ll die. Horangi: No-

-- (Valeria has no color here, I ran out) Valeria: *eye roll* I am not trying to seduce you. Y/N, bi panicking: …. Valeria, but now smug: Would you like me to seduce you? Y/N: *strained wheeze & squeaky* Already achieved ma’am- Gaz: *listening to a mic implanted on Y/N* God damnit dON’T LET YOUR MOMMY ISSUES RUIN THIS MISSION!

-- (These next two have mental health jokes in’em) Y/N, hyper cleaning the base: AHAHA, yes! I’m finally feeling bett- ah, wait. I’m manic, and I’m hyper cleaning everything, ✨as a diversion✨. Price: P s y c h e . Y/N: Jokes on you, old man. I already have meds for this! …might need to up them though they feel like they’ve stopped working. Price: When did you start to feel they weren’t working? Y/N: Like three months ago. Price: PSYCHE Y/N: ASKING THEM QUESTIONS ABOUT MEDS ARE SCAAAARRYYY Price: YOU KILL MEN ALMOST EVERYDAY Y/N: Fair point. (Take ya meds)

-- Price: I don’t understand you- Y/N: Good! Means you’re probably mentally well. Price: I- Gaz: We really need to like- specify when you’re joking and when you’re serious, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.

-- Gaz: …Hm. Price: You’ve been staring at me for the past six minutes, what is it?Gaz: I think you have a grey hair. Price: Y/N, speeding in: WHICH IS TOTALLY FINE, IT’S BARELY EVEN THERE AND EVEN IF YOU WERE GOING GREY IT’D LOOK FANTASTIC ON YOU. Price: …would it? Y/N: Absolutely! …*thumps Gaz in the back of the head* Gaz: Ow-Uh yeah! Yeah! Actually I don’t even think it’s there, just the lighting. Price: Hm…alright. Y/N: Mhm! *death glare* Gaz: *mouthing* I’msosorry-

-- (Will someone please notice that I write Ghost as "Simon" when he's with Soap and they're being soft? It's intentional-) Soap: I’m not really sure what I’d do if I lost you… Simon: I know what I’d do. Soap: What? Simon: I’d find you.

-- Soap: I got my ankles microwaved. Ghost: X-rayed. Soap: They took my blood away for science! Ghost: Cholesterol tests. Soap: Si had his sinuses…removed? Ghost: Looked at. Soap: Some guy looked at my penis, touched it. That was weird. Ghost, cleaning blood off a knife: That guy wasn’t even a doctor.

-- Medic!Y/N: You think killing is hard? Try healing something. That is hard, that requires patience. Alejandro, watching them bandage his hand: Hm… Medic!Y/N: You can break something in two seconds. *vaguely motions to Ghost, then Price, then at a necklace Alejandro wears that came from Valeria* But it can take forever to fix it. Alejandro: …aye…well said.

-- Gaz: *being annoying and singing a song for the 10,000th time* Price: KYLE! Gaz: I’m watchin’ my tone, dunana. I ain’t talkin’ back, no, why? Cause I’ma get thrown, dunana-

-- Graves: You know, Ghost, real talk bro, you never say nothin’ when you’re around us. Why is that? Ghost: Cause I don’t fucking like you guys.

-- Enemy: I’m gonna send you to God. Y/N: God? I’m insulted you think I’d end up in Heaven. I work hard for my sins, thank you very much. Ghost: We are hostages right now, can you please not-

-- Valeria: And guess who gets to be my little helper.~ Y/N: It’s me, I’m the helper… Valeria: That’s right, you sure are.~ Alejandro: Alright that’s enough! Valeria: What? You don’t believe in positive affirmation?

-- Rudy: Me gustan los perros. Alejandro: Me gustas… Rudy: ….hm. Me gusta un hombre en el ejército. Alejandro: Aye? Rudy: Mhm. Alejandro: *chuckles* Me gusta mi mejor amigo. Rudy: Me gustas.

(This was poorly translated but listen, I tried for the gays)

-- Price: You actually were telling the truth. Valeria: I do that quite a lot, you people are always surprised.

-- Laswell: Don’t pull any of those stunts like you did last time. Fem!Y/N: I made an offering. Laswell: You dropped a dead mouse into that poor man’s lap. Fem!Y/N: Yes! Like a cat. Laswell: You are not a cat! Fem:Y/N: No…tragically, I am a woman.

-- Ghost: Some people are simply…better than others. Graves: You really think you’re that much better than me? Ghost: Oh I think we both know the answer to that.

(Needing to fake a date for a mission) Y/N, on the phone: Laswell, I don’t need help with dating. I’ve been on loads of dates! Y/N: *turns and whispers to Gaz* I’ve literally been on one.

-- Enemy: Think you can answer questions without the usual level of sarcasm? Y/N: If you can ask them without the usual level of stupid. Enemy: Where’s your captain and why hasn’t anyone been able to contact him? Y/N: I dunno, I’ve been here, haven’t seen him in days. Enemy: Is he drinking again? Y/N: What do you mean again? He never had to stop. Enemy: But he did have to slow down, is he drinking like he used to? Y/N: Alright, how bout this? Next time I see him, I’ll give’im the field sobriety test, okay? We’ll do the alphabet, start with F & end with U.

-- Graves: And that’s why I personally, don’t agree with your opinion. Soap: Okay, counter point- Graves: Valid argument? Soap: No. Pipebomb!

-- Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Y/N: Y/N: I’ma instigate. Gaz, lightly pulling them back: nnnnoooooooooo-

-- Y/N: Eeraaawr >:3 Gaz: What sound is that? Y/N: A dyianosaur Gaz: A what? Y/N: Dianoswaur. Gaz: Make the sound again. Y/N: Uurraawer Gaz: Oh you talkin’ bout them things from ✨Jerressi PerAHck✨ Y/N: AHAH! Ghost: I’m gonna lose it. Soap: Hush yer mouth, it’s cute. Lighten up ya big log.

-- Ghost: I think I’ve finally had enough. Y/N, getting his antidepressants: I think you’re full of shit.

-- Medic!Y/N: C’mon, stick with me, Ghost. Ghost: Might be time to follow my call si-OH FUCKING HELL WHY Medic!Y/N: You listen here you Fuckin’ bastard, I’m gonna love the absolute shit out of you until you never make a joke like that again. And then, if you still do it, I’ll have the team smother, smother, you in affection. And if you STILL don’t get it, THEN I’m gonna whoop your ass. Shut your perfect fucking mouth, you got that, soldier?! Ghost: ….since when did you get scary? Medic!Y/N: Adrenalin keeps people alive and sometimes we run out of epipens, had to substitute somehow.

-- Price: Now, sergent, what would you rather be? A lion or a panda? Soap: Captain, I’m me. Why would I want to be anything else? Price: I’m not sure you realize how psychologically healthy that is.

-- Ghost, pissed off: Sometimes I can’t stand you. Y/N, while walking away: Then kneel! And while you’re down there, occupy your mouth, you’d do better down there, QUIET, anyway!! Ghost: I-…… Soap: Oooooo…. Gaz: I- I-…they have no fear. None. Absolutely no survival instinct, no self preservation. None!

-- (Younger Y/N as in like…mid-late twenties. Also, this one is long. I might honestly make a lil oneshot with this one and I welcome anyone else to do the same) Y/N: John… Price: I know, I know. You love me. You’ve said it a thousand times and it should just stick, I just…can’t help but think about how you’re so… Y/N: *snort* Out of your league? Price: To put it bluntly. Y/N: Well, regardless of where I rank? I still love you. I’m going to love you for a long time, you’re stuck with me, ya sweethearted bastard. Price, fondly: Ah Dear, whatever will I do. Y/N: Yeaaaah. Besides! Even if I wasn’t completely and utterly, disgustingly, in love with you? …you are way too good of a sugar daddy to ditch. Price: Hah! Oh really? Why’s that? Y/N: Are you kidding?! Paid off house, paid off car, successful military captain, great manners, great dick, extremely attractive, good with kids, good cook, sexy voice. I could go on for awhile. Price: Oh now you’re just feedin’ my ego. Y/N: Yes, yes I am. Price: I’ll get cocky. Y/N: You’re sexy when you’re arrogant too, that doesn’t deter me. Price: *sigh* Far out of my league. Y/N: You’re a rank climber, I think you’ll keep up.

-- (NSFW but it's in a ha-ha funny way, based on a conversation I've had. Kink mentions) Soap: Look, I just...I need advice on how to spice it up in the bedroom. Y/N: Do you know how little that narrows it down? Gaz: I feel there are few options. Y/N: No there are a lot of options, it depends on your level of spice. I dunno your boundaries wit'cha man! Soap: I just need something! Y/N: THERE ARE A LOT OF THINGS! Get some handcuffs, grab a vibrator, TRY ANAL, I don't fucking know! Gaz: *chokes on drink* Soap: Okay, listen- Y/N: No, you listen. Rule of thumb with kinks? It's a mountain and there are three kinds of people on it. People who don't wanna climb, people who want to climb but choose not to, and people who stay climbing. You reach a level of kinkiness and you stay there. You can't go back down the mountain. Me, personally? I have chosen to stop climbing because I know I'll get worse. I'm choosing to stay on my part of the mountain. Where you wanna climb is up to you. Soap: Where do I climb then? Y/N: The beginner's trail is fuzzy handcuffs, orgasm control, and mirror sex. Soap: This is the weirdest advice I've ever gotten. Y/N: It's my specialty.

-- (Follow it up with an asexual joke) Graves: Are you fighting the urge to make out with me right now? Y/N: Not really, I'm really into this pizza though. Soap, in the back: Aw they burnt my fuckin' cookies! Assholes. Y/N: Karma. Soap: It is not my fault I ate the last slice of cake, I didn't know it was yours- Y/N: IT WAS LABELED! Soap: I DIDN'T SEE IT!! Graves: *slowly backs away*

-- Y/N, holding up a coffee pot: Anyone want more coffee? Price: No, we've all had ours. Y/N: *takes off the lid* Cool. Gaz: What are y-NO! Y/N: *chugging from the pot* Ghost: ...This is the peak of mental illness. Price: PUT THE DAMN POT DOWN! Soap: This is the scariest thing I've ever seen them do- Y/N: *fighting to finish the coffee as Price tries to get it away from them*

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houseofanticipation · 2 months

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It's impossible to count the number of times you've imagined this moment. Late at night, under the covers; in the bathtub, and the shower; on slow days at the bookstore, the summer before senior year; during Mr. Madrigal's long, droning lectures. You fantasized so vividly you could see each scene on the back of your eyelids, hear each sound between breaths. Many a time your hand migrated southward, almost of its own volition. If you were in public, you'd hold it against your crotch, pressing it into yourself with the force of your clenched thighs. In private, you'd be far less subtle.

In all those fantasies, you never imagined it would look quite like this.

The hallway smells like cigarettes and industrial cleaner. The haphazardly patterned carpet is coming up at the edges. The yellow tube light overhead might be attempting morse code, the way it flickers. Paint peels from the door in front of you, and one of the metal digits in the room number has been replaced with one that doesn't quite match: room 233. You raise your hand, your knuckles inches from the door, and then you pause. You're not sure if you can go through with this.

Before you can decide, the door opens anyway.

You started posting pictures in your first year of college. It was just your tits at first. You'd been quietly following those subreddits and tumblr blogs for a while, and you thought it would be a bit of fun, a little thrill. You didn't expect the response you got: dozens of people telling you how much they'd enjoyed it, asking for more. So you posted more, and the people asked for different things. Post your ass. Post your cunt. Post your fingers in your cunt. Post audio of you moaning as you came. The more you revealed of yourself, the more attention you got, and the more attention you got, the more you wanted to show. People wanted to send you tips, so you set up a Cash App address. You never got much, a few dollars here and there, but it was nice to get a free coffee now and then.

And somewhere along the way, apparently, you let slip that you were a virgin.

The message came late last semester, from a Cash App user whose name was just a string of numbers. It read, "I will buy your virginity for $100,000. So you know I'm serious, here is $7000 for you to keep, deal or no deal. Let me know if interested."

It was like one of those hypotheticals you talk about with your friends at the dinner table. Would you work nonstop for a year if it meant you never had to work again? Would you cut off your hand if it meant you never had to die? Would you let a stranger from the internet take your virginity for a hundred thousand dollars? You thought about it for weeks. The 7 thousand in itself was a windfall you never could have imagined. It was the new laptop you needed, four times over. It was a large iced coffee ever day for three and a half years. After graduation, if you were smart, it could be your living expenses for the better part of a year. But a hundred thousand might be a house, or a car, or a few years of freedom to pursue your goals. And when you asked how you could trust him to pay when he'd gotten what he wanted, he told you he'd be happy to pay up front.

So here you are, in a dingy hotel, face to face with the broad-shouldered, potbellied older man in front of you. "I saw you through the peephole," he says. There's something impish about him. Maybe it's the toothy grin, or the way his ears stick out from his head, or the obvious glee in his voice as he looks you up and down. "My, you're much better in person. Come in! You got the money then?"

You nod. You didn't leave the Lyft until it was there in your account.

"Good," he says, throwing the dead bolt. "Let's get to it then, shall we?"

"What should...I mean, how do you want to..." you feel yourself talking strangely. Breathing in the wrong places, words tumbling over each other. "Maybe we should...talk first? Get to know each other?"

"No need for that," says the man matter-of-factly, unbuttoning his shirt. His chest is smooth, his skin a mottled pink. He waves a hand at your body. "Go ahead and get those off."

Back in high school, one of your recurring fantasies involved Jason Meier having his way with you in the back of that beat up convertible he used to drive. That old thing used to get you so wet. It was a piece of junk, but something about the exposure of it...In the fantasy, he's driven you out to some secluded spot outside of town. Cicadas drone all around. The night sky shines bright with stars. He cups your face with one hand, strokes your cheek with his thumb, asks you if this is your first time. He kisses the side of your mouth, then your jaw, then below your ear, then down your neck. As his hands undo the top button of your blouse, he tells you he'll be gentle.

The man is watching you expectantly. With his shirt on, he looked like a portly old man. Without it you can see that every inch of that stocky build is hard muscle. That pink skin strains against his mass, muscle rippling beneath it as he moves. "What are you waiting for?"

Your legs tremble. Your knees feel like they're about to buckle. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears. Your body has never done this before. You didn't know you could feel this kind of fear, and yet there's nothing to fight, nowhere to flee. You agreed to this. You decided this was what you wanted. Slowly, you pull your shirt over head.

He groans in the back of his throat, a long, growly sound. His face is a mask of focus, the impish joviality gone, his eyes fixated on your breasts. "And the rest."

You kick off your shoes, pull off your socks. An inch at a time, you slide your shorts and panties over your ass, down your legs, past your trembling knees. You step out of them, and now you're completely exposed. You cross your arms over your chest, then lower them when he grunts disapproval. Almost urgently, he unbuttons his pants, pulls out a long, rigid cock, and begins to stroke himself.

You didn't discover internet porn until your senior year, and before then the only penises you'd seen were a few drawings in your health textbook. In the fantasy, you unbutton Jason Meier's pants and fig. 7.5, "The penis becomes engorged when in state of arousal," pops out of his underwear. You take it in your hands, feeling the weight of it, the girth, and look up into those beautiful brown eyes of his.

This cock is much...realer. It has bounce, texture, even a sound as his hand slides up and down its length. It's longer than the one in that old fantasy, too, and it leans slightly to the left. For years you've wondered what it would be like to see a cock in person, and now that you're here it terrifies you.

"Come here," says the man, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Get on your knees."

You falter. "You didn't...I mean, we didn't agree to that."

"I bought your virginity," says the man. "You ever suck cock before?"

You shake your head.

"Then your mouth is just as much a virgin as your cunt. Get down here."

It's almost a relief to get off your legs, the way they've been threatening to give out. Close up, you can see the purples and blues of the veins under his skin. The head of his cock pulses with anticipation as your lips part, your tongue extends...

You don't think you can do this.

Then his hand is on the back of your head.

You always imagined Jason Meier whimpering as you took him into your mouth. You were never quite able to picture what he would feel like between your lips, on your tongue; the movie camera of your imagination always panned up at that point, to focus on his face. He would let his head fall back in pleasure, eyebrows knit with sensation, lips slightly parted. Now, though, there's no camera to pan. You are here. This is real. And his powerful hand is pushing your mouth onto his cock.

A sound you can't control comes out of you. Your back arches, your hands flail, and then by pure instinct they're on his belly, pushing against him, away from him. Spit runs down your chin, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry," you say, looking anywhere but at his face. "I'm sorry, I can't, I thought I could do this but I can't."

There's a horrible darkness in his voice. "I already gave you the money."

"I know, I'll give it back, I'm sorry." The words trip over each other on the way out of your mouth. "I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have, I just, I thought I could..."

His hand is on the back of your head again, and this time his fingers are curled tight into your hair. He jerks your head back, forcing you to look at him, and his eyes are cold and predatory. "I'm not interested in returning what's already bought and paid for." He jams himself back into your mouth.

You always imagined yourself savoring it, taking your time to explore every inch of Jason's length with your tongue, but there's no time for that now. The veiny, throbbing thing in your mouth bypasses your tongue entirely, forcing past your uvula. You gag, then gag again. Your stomach churns and you convulse as your body tries to remove the foreign object, but the man just pushes harder. Your eyes water as he slides deeper, deeper, making your throat bulge, your limbs spasm. As his balls touch your chin, you close your eyes and try to relax your throat.

He holds you like that. You gag for a third time, and thick saliva explodes through the gaps around his cock, dripping down your chin and collecting in a long, dangling rope. Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to acclimatize to the feeling, try to convince your body that nothing is wrong. You think you've got it, and then he moves slightly, and you're gagging again. He groans, grips your head tighter, and in the back of your throat you feel his cock swell slightly. He likes it when you gag for him, says a voice in the back of your mind. The motion is pleasurable for him.

You've got another problem rearing its head. You can't breathe. It was fine at first, but the man shows no interest in freeing up your airways, and in all the gagging and crying, you haven't exactly been conserving your oxygen. You pat his leg, trying to signal to him, but all he does is clap you on the side of the head. Your ear rings, you gag again, and his cock throbs. Black walls are closing in on your vision. The effort of struggling against him becomes too much, and your arms fall to your sides. Your eyelids flutter. You're going to pass out. You're going to pass out, and then what will he do to you?

But just before the world fades to black, he pulls your head back again. You feel every inch of his cock as it slides out of your throat. He lifts your face, and your eyes struggle to focus on his as you take lungful after lungful of glorious air. Drool spills across your lips, but you don't care. You're alive.

The man slaps you hard, leaving a stinging impression of his palm on your cheek. You whimper. Two of his fingers are in your mouth, pushing on the back of your tongue. Not knowing exactly why, you close your lips around them and shut your eyes.

"That's better," he says.

The first time you saw a male sex toy in use was in an ad before a porn video you were watching. You were taken aback by the way the performer had pounded it over his cock, barely more than an extension of his hand. You're reminded of that image as he parts your lips again, and the rape of your throat begins in earnest.

You haven't thought about Jason Meier in years, but at this moment he's the only thing keeping you sane. As your face rams up and down, up and down, you retreat to that beat up convertible, and Jason's soft, thoughtful face. As the man tightens his grip, Jason runs his fingers through your hair. As the man grunts and growls with pleasure, Jason coos your name. With each stroke of his cock down your throat, each spasm of your body, you focus on a different part of Jason's body: his large hands, his long fingers, his shoulders, his jawline, his liquid brown eyes. By the time the man finally releases your hair, you can barely feel your body any more. The convertible is far more real than the squeaky motel bed. The hands on your body are Jason's, soft and tender.

He climbs over the center console straddling you. You lock lips, feel your tongues in each other's mouths, kiss so deeply that it feels as though you share the same breath. He pulls the lever to lay your seat back, and then he's over you, on top of you, lifting your skirt, pulling your panties to the side.

This is the part where, in the old days, you would have slipped a finger or two inside yourself. But this time you don't have to. This time you can feel him inside you, really feel him, and he fills you up like your fingers never could. There's some pain—they told you there'd be pain, didn't they, your first time—but it falls away to the thrill, the lust, the pleasure. Jason whimpers as he slides into you, deeper, deeper, and you moan into each other's mouths as his pelvis meets yours. You take a moment to savor it, breathing each other in, and then he begins to thrust.

You feel drunk. It's exactly like you always imagined it, and somehow better than you could ever have expected. Each movement of his hips brings another sensation: a spasm in the arches of your feet, a hitch in your breath, a churning, swirling need in the depths of your abdomen. Deeper you tell him, harder, and he obliges, pulling you into him, and him into you.

You can feel the orgasm building, but it isn't like any you've had before. Every time you've ever cum, you've been in control. This time, Jason is in control. Jason decides when you cum, how you cum. One hand supports his weight as he leans over you, and the other slides up your belly. You used to watch those hands obsessively. The way he held a pencil, the way he bit his knuckles when he was thinking. Now that hand slides up, caresses your breast. Now that thumb brushes your hair out of your face. Now those fingers close around your throat.

You know you're safe with Jason, but the pressure on your throat triggers some animal fear response in you. You try to squirm away, but his arm is strong, and his hand his firm. Your hands go to his wrist. "I don't like that, stop." He just smiles. It isn't his usual sweet smile, either. This one is cruel. Predatory.

Your face feels tight. Your eyes bulge. You're beginning to panic for real now. "Jason, seriously, stop!" You beat at his arm with your fists, but he easily takes both your wrists in one hand and pins them over your head. You try to kick at him, but he's already past your defenses, between your legs, pushing them uselessly apart. His grip tightens, his rhythm increases, his cock swells inside you. He's getting off on this.

All at once you're back in the hotel room. The man's sweaty red face is inches away from your own, and the lust in his eyes is obvious. His cock seems to push deeper with every thrust, and the horrible thing is that the orgasm is still coming. It's close now, you can feel it, and it's like he knows exactly how to bring it out. You feel floaty, tingly, and that awful pleasure is welling up inside you, a pot about to boil over...

"That's right," he says, his eyes locked on yours. "That's what I was waiting for. That perfect mix of...pleasure...and...fear." He punctuates each of these last three words with a long, deep thrust, and it's these that send the orgasm spilling over. A choked moan pushes itself out of you as your back arches, your toes curl, your legs wrap involuntarily around his waist, tears roll down your cheeks. That floaty feeling has combined with the orgasm to create something like how you imagine heroin must feel; a wave of mind numbing, soul deadening ecstasy. Your insides feel hot, and at first you think that must just be what it feels like when you cum from sex, but then you see the look on his face and realize that he's cumming too. His grip relaxes and he pounds away a few more times at your now-limp body. You stare at the ceiling as he moans, buries his face between your tits, pumps round after round of his warm, thick cum into your cunt, your womb. After one final push he collapses onto you, his cock still inside you, his bulk crushing you into the bed. You don't move.

He strokes your cheek. Fondles your nipple. Kisses your neck. Then he kisses your mouth, his tongue pushing your lips open, his breath like damp earth. You barely see him.

It must be almost ten minutes before he finally gets up, his limp cock sliding out of you at last. You can feel his cum dripping from your cunt as he puts on his underwear, then pants, then shirt, then shoes. "The room is paid for the night," he says with his hand on the door handle. "Thank you for struggling. Taking someone's virtue is so much better when you actually get to take it.

You don't respond.

You don't know how long you lie there, motionless, dripping cum. Oddly, the man who just raped you isn't the one burned onto your mind's eye. Try as you might to return to that sweet teenage fantasy, all you can see is Jason Meier as he held his hand to your throat, and that cruel, predatory smile on his face.

#CW im told this one is realer than usual so be warned #r@pe fantasy #cnc free use #cvmdump #cvmslvt #breeding toy #r@petoy #r@pe kink

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ncis-nerd · 16 days

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Girl I've Always Been

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanov x GN!Reader Warnings:

Smut, exhibitionism, degradation, pet names, use of clit cream (receiving), strap (r receiving), fluff, brief mention of eating problems. Reader has a uterus.Aftercare, fluff.

About: Nat goes to the grocery store only to come back home, thinking her gf is in a meeting but walks in on them fucking. What happens next?

Nat dropped the grocery bags on the floor as she arrived home. Their fridge was practically empty, it was time to go shopping. Nat doesn't even know how it could get so empty, Wanda made Nat go and get some food, and safe foods for y/n. Knowing about their texture problem with food, it's practically impossible to get them to eat. Nat sighed and began to put the grocery away. She assumed Wanda was working and Y/n was either cuddling with her on her lap or playing video games. Either way, Nat was about to go find out.

As she approached the red-heads office, she heard a series of moans. That could mean no good. Nat walked in on Wanda in a meeting, Tony's voice in the background, her camera and audio of her office and y/n being fucked against their large glass window. Nat smirked "So this is why you sent me away. So you could have some private time with our partner." Nat began to make her way over there.

By the volume of the moans she heard earlier, she Nat can already assume what happened. Y/n was being needy while Wanda was on camera so Wanda decided to fuck them like the slut they are, whoring them for the whole world to see.

Telling y/n to be as loud as they want so the neighbors can hear "I needed to take care of them, darling. I can't just have our little plaything interrupting my meeting and get away with it. Now can I dear?" Wanda explained as she relentlessly pounded into y/n with her strap, from behind.

Y/n's breasts pressed against the glass, whining because it was cold. “Cold daddy” y/n whimpered." Thought you wanted Daddy to fuck you? Maybe you should watch mommy fuck daddy instead. Tie you up and don't let you highlight the ache between your legs." Wanda hummed. Y/n's eyes widened. "No please! Please daddy I'll be good!" Y/n squeaked, making eye contact with nat for the first time since she came back, only to be met with a smirk.

"Wow, they're really needy, huh. Never seen them this desperate, what did you do Wanda?" Nat chuckled. "Dunno but I think I have the perfect thing if they can be good long enough then I'll try it out on them" Wanda murmured, turning to Nat and whispering something in Russian. Nat left the room. "M-mommy?" Daddy wants to reward you." Wanda softened, reaching for y/n's hand. She leads them to the bedroom, only to be greeted with Nat and a little tube of cream in her hand.

Y/n looked at Wanda confused. "I know you're confused baby, but just trust me here, okay?" Wanda spoke, motioning for y/n to get on the bed. They listened and climbed up. Nat handed the tube to Wanda. Wanda joined y/n on the bed and told them to spread their legs. Wanda squeezed some of the stuff on her finger. She then spread it on y/n"s clit. They whined immediately at the coldness and unexpected touch. "It's okay detka" Nat cooed from across the room, simply just watching the two of you play.

Y/n's clit began to throb, more than usual. Y/n squirmed and squeezed their thighs together. Wanda looked at y/n lovingly "how do you feel baby?" Wanda asked with a gentle voice. Wanda gladly gives in. Her hand dips between y/n's thighs, she traces circles over y/n's clit. They jolt. At this rate, they're gonna come fast but Wanda doesn't care. All she cares about is making her partner feel good.

Wanda's hand trailed up to y/n's breasts. Wanda moved down, her head between y/n's thighs. She looks up at her angel, letting out soft moans. what does this feel so good, so different my love?" Wanda mumbled, as she started to suck on y/n's clit. They shook their head.

"Daddy put clit cream on you, it makes your clit more sensitive." Nat's voice said, from across the room. Y/n looks at Nat who now has her hands between her thighs, playing with herself. "See something you like?" Nat smirked, seeing y/n looking at her with wide eyes. Wanda sped up, resulting in y/n throwing their head back.

They arched their back but Wanda held them in place. "Gonna cum darling?" Wanda mumbled against her clit, smirking at the mess she's making of them. Y/n nodded breathless. "Cum for me my love" Wanda whispered.

Nat made her way over to y/n. "Can mommy hold you while daddy cleans up?" Nat whispered softly, meeting y/n's fucked out gaze. God they're so out of it. They agreed in response. Nat climbed onto the bed, they immediately clung onto her. Nat awed in response. She loves how clingy and cuddly they get after sex.

"Drink" Wanda spoke, bringing an opened waterbottle to y/n's lips. "You did so good moya lyubov" Wanda praised. After Wanda finished cleaning up, she saw y/n passed out in Nat's arms. Wanda quietly climbed into the bed, giving y/n a little kiss on the forehead. Careful not to wake them.

Wanda whispered "So daddy, I think we should use the clit cream more often." Wanda smirked at the Russian. "Seeing the effect it has on them, they'll definitely be good more often." Nat responded. "So where did you get the idea? I didn't even know we owned clit cream?" Wanda, amused asks her girlfriend.

"I um- I got it because I wanted you to try it on me" The Russian mumbled, her face turning red. Wanda smirked, seeing her flustered her girlfriend is. "I would love to sweetheart. Daddy also deserves a reward, doesn't she. I'm sorry sweetheart that slipped my mind." Wanda hummed.

a/n: like, reblog and comment for more works!

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7ndipity · 2 months

Text

Them With An Autistic S/o

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: How the members would handle/react to their S/o being on the spectrum.

Warnings: Mentions of sensory issues, feeling over/under stimulated, depression, meltdowns, stimming.

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! This is a list I’ve actually wanted to write for a while, but I’d been slightly nervous/unsure about it. But as someone who’s also on the spectrum, I know how much comfort similar posts from other blogs have brought me! I also tried to keep this one a bit lighter, since someone asked for a separate list about meltdowns/shutdowns, but if there’s any specific reactions/hcs like this that you guys want, let me know! (Please note that these are based off my own knowledge/experience, so I’m sorry if they don’t fit for everyone)

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin:

I feel like he’d be slightly confused and worried at first because he’s not sure what to do/how to help you, but once you explain a bit more, he gets a lot more comfortable, and really is such a good caregiver when he needs to be.

Catches onto your different stims pretty quickly and what each one means.

Like, y’all have whole conversations solely through funny little hums and stim noises.

Really good at reading and matching your mood/energy. You wanna talk about the Mayans nonstop for two hours? Cool! You want to just sit silently and do nothing? Also cool!

He’s really good at normalizing your symptoms and making them seem like nbd(because to him, they aren’t) Food sensitivities? He’s got them too! You hate loud noises and crowds? Same Honey, let’s get the fuck outta here! He knows they’re not quite the same thing, of course, but if it makes you feel more comfortable and safe being your true, unmasked self with him, then that’s all that matters to him.

Really good at calming you down when you feel overwhelmed or on the verge of meltdown.

Does his absolute best to bring your mood up whenever you’re struggling or feeling really down, pulling out his best dad jokes(even if they don’t make sense to you), bringing your favorite snacks, etc.

Yoongi:

I think he would handle it really well. Does his research after you tell him, and asks you about it casually during dates/hangouts.

So fucking respectful of your boundries. If you prefer to have your own space, he’s totally fine letting you do your own thing. If you need more closeness and cuddles, he’s all over that too, letting you sit right next to him while he works.

Not only lets you rant about your special interests, but makes the effort to take interest in them and asks questions. Randomly buys you little things related to them.

He’s so calming and soothing when you’re feeling stressed or overstimulated, understanding whenever you randomly need rest or quiet time(stress nap buddies)

Keeps things like extra sunglasses and headphones in his bag for you, just in case you forget yours.

Would have a lot of fun if you have audio stims, letting you listen to his new songs because your reactions and enthusiasm are so cute to him. Makes you panning audios as gifts.

Always there to look out for you whenever executive dysfunction decides to kick your ass. Washes the dishes, doing the laundry, restocking your safe foods, etc. He would also be really good at body doubling.

Hobi:

I honestly think he would be really good with an S/O on the spectrum. Like, he literally designed Mang, who is soo ND coded like omg😭, so I think he would be able to understand you really well.

(if you haven’t seen the videos of him talking about Mang’s personality and character traits during the re-design process last year, pls go watch them, I almost cried)

Loves buying you new fidgets and stim toys whenever he finds new ones to try(he even has a collection of chewlery that he wears bc he thinks they’re neat).

Is really good reading you and distracting you when you start to get overstimulated or anxious, sometimes noticing before you do.

Lowkey protective over you in spaces and situations he knows are stressful for you, positioning himself next to you whenever he spots things he knows bother you.

You know how Yoongi described him as a vitamin? That’s how it is for you now too.💛

He’s so stimmy himself, so he would find a lot of your stims really relatable and endearing. Like, if you start happy stimming, he can’t help but join right in, bouncing or squealing with you. It makes him so happy that you feel comfortable enough with him to share those parts of yourself with him.

Namjoon:

Instantly super supportive when you told him, making an effort to research on his own, as well as listening to your personal experiences to understand as much as possible.

Happily sits and lets you info-dump about your special interests. He honestly loves seeing you so passionate and animated about whatever you’re talking about and loves getting a glimpse into how your mind works(it was probably during one of these moments that he realized he was in love with you)

Surprisingly good pebbler, he’s always finding cool rocks or shells for your collections.

Doesn’t mind speaking for you on days when you’re nonverbal.

The sweetest when you’re feeling overstimulated. He closes all the curtains to make it dark and cozy and sits with you, talking as softly as needed or not talking at all, tapping your hand gently now and then to let you know he’s still there.

Soo protective over you, almost to a fault at times. Like, you might have to scold him once or twice about babying you, but he really doesn’t mean to, he just wants to make sure you’re safe and happy.

The world feels a lot less scary tho with him next you. You know if you need anything, he’s got your back.

Jimin:

The softest boi🥺 He was honestly a little scared when you first told him, because he didn’t want to do anything wrong and was worried he wouldn’t be ‘good’ at looking after you, but he quickly relaxed and grew more confident as he learned more from you.

The best comforter when you’re feeling overwhelmed or depressed, full of quiet reassurances and long hugs(if you’re okay with those). He’ll gladly cuddle with you under your weighted blanket for however long you need to feel better.

Literally set up a little “nest” for you at his place with a like beanbag chair and your favorite types of blankets/pillows, so you have your own place to just ‘be’ and recoup when you need it.

Carries fidget toys and sensory aids like sunglasses and headphones with him at all times, just in case you need them.

Really good at communicating with you on days when you’re nonverbal, whether through texts or little notes(which he always adds little doodles on to make your smile😊)

Makes sure you never feel guilty or like a burden to him for letting him in on those tougher days. If anything, they make him love you even more because of the trust you have in him.

It really makes him feel so proud and happy inside that you find so much comfort in his presence and that he gets to take care of you.💜

Taehyung:

Another that I think would be particularly good with a neurodivergent S/O. Like, everyone jokes about how he’s weird, so I think he’d love that you’re both your kind of own unique kinds of ‘weird’.

Happily rewatches your favorite comfort shows/films with you, and speaks in fluent film quotes with you.

Loves when you fidget and stim with his hands or fingers.

If you like pressure stims, he’s a dream come true. Like, the man’s a living weighted blanket, so when you basically give him a doctor's note for cuddles? He’s never gonna let you go.

As relaxed as he might come across sometimes tho, he’s super observant of your stims and triggers and takes it so seriously whenever you start feeling overwhelmed or stressed.

It doesn’t matter where you are or what you’re doing, if you need a break, he’s getting you to a quiet place where you can sit and just recalibrate.

Rivals Jin and Yoongi for top spot in the acts of service department on your bad days, making sure you eat properly, doing any household chores that need done. He even learned how to wash your weighted blanket so you don’t have to.

Jungkook:

Was definitely a little lost and overwhelmed when you first explained everything to him, but he really takes it in stride and tries to learn as much as possible to help make things easier for you where he can.

The King of comfort squeezes. Like you’ve seen his arms, he gives the best hugs, I just know it(especially on those “the weighted blanket isn't enough, I need a hydraulic press” days)

Loves learning about your special interests. Like, It’s no longer just your special interest, it’s our special interest. He’s even studying and finding things for it on his own to surprise you with.

Honestly plays with some of your fidget toys more than you do, lol! You might even end up giving him a few of his favorites😊

Gets super happy and smiley whenever you get echolalia of his songs.

Another member of the protective squad, ain’t no bad stimuli getting to his baby if he can help it!

The gentlest with you when you're overstimulated or having a tough day. Anything you need, he’ll do without question. All he cares about is making sure that you feel safe and comfortable🥺

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

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glade-constellation · 6 months

Text

Breakfast and Braids

Soleil x Reader, Sunspot x Reader

Summary : This morning just happened to be the morning your carpal tunnel flared up. You’re used to pushing through it, it was common in your field of work. This morning also happens to be the morning two of your housemates step in to help.

Trigger Warning(s) : None

Rating : T, SFW

Word Count : 3736

Extra : This AU belongs to @venomous-qwille ! This was originally just supposed to be with Soleil, but Sunspot snuck his way in and I decided to let him stay. I really hope this turned out okay <3 I had to use Google Translate for any French that shows up, but I did try to look farther into what it was giving me before using it. Sorry if it’s inaccurate.

“What, pray tell, are you doing?”

The sudden presence of a voice from behind made you jump with a start. While you did have the bathroom door open to let the shower steam out, you hadn’t exactly been expecting someone to pop in while you were making use of the mirror. You only expected to be in here a short while longer anyways. An undignified yelp slipped through your lips, which was quickly followed by a soft string of curses as you watch your hair fall from between your fingers.

“Language, friend,” the voice spoke again.

You were usually a little better about your words since arriving at the Mill. Not great, admittedly, but you knew courser language triggered unwanted coding for some and was genuinely unliked by others. That was usually enough to keep you from blurting out anything too bad.

That being said, there were moments where you still couldn’t stop them from slipping out, and being jumpscared was definitely one of those moments. The growing frustration with your uncooperative hair didn’t help.

Placing a hand over your chest and leaning heavily on the sink counter, you look up into the mirror to find your most recent spook. Blue-lavender eyes stared back from the doorway in an unamused but questioning stare. “Sol,” you breathe out, “ you scared me.”

There was an impression of him lifting an eyebrow as he continued to stare at you in the slightly fogged glass. “Sincerest apologies, but I thought you were well aware of my presence since I stepped in.”

Your own brows wrinkled at his wording, almost scared to ask, “...How long have you been standing there?”

Instead of answering, Soleil simply stepped fully into the small bathroom and walked to your side. You turn to meet him as he steps up to the counter, eyebrow lifting as his silk-covered hand reaches up to softly run through your still damp locks. “You never answered my question. What were you trying to achieve with tangling your hair farther than it already was?”

The urge to roll your eyes arises, but you instead sigh heavily and drop your head into your hands. A quiet hiss leaves your lips as his fingers snag on the aforementioned tangles. “Fais attention mon ami!” Sol is quick to admonish as he gently removes his hand from your hair, “You really do need to take note of your surroundings more.” You decide not to dig yourself any farther into this hole and instead answer his previous question. With your hands over your face, though, it comes out more like mumbles to his audio receptors. The solar bot reaches up and grabs your wrists, causing you to stiffen for a moment before he continues gently moving your hands down. “Mumbling is unbecoming of you. Let’s try that again.”

“I was braiding my hair,” you try again, not meeting his gaze. Braiding your hair wasn’t hard. Usually. This morning just happened to be the morning your carpal tunnel flared up. The numbing feeling was not helping the fine motor skills of your hands, nor was the occasional tinge of pain if you moved your wrist a certain way. “The feeling of my hair on the back of my neck has been bothering me lately, and it being wet isn’t helping.”

The earlier impression of exasperation comes back when he remains quiet, but you can’t be quite sure without looking for the subtle movements of his face. You didn’t really want to do that, though. You’d always been told that your expression was easy to read, and your new housemates didn’t miss anything. You didn’t need Soleil to see the red covering your face in your embarrassment. Not that it really mattered. He was probably already aware of it.

You only move to watch Sol as he pulls back from you, eyes tracking him as he grabs a clean towel from the rack. The sound of rustling fabric hits your ears as he lets the towel unfold. At seeing you watching him, he throws the towel over his shoulder and grabs your own shoulders in his hands. The push is gentle as he turns you back towards the mirror. You feel yourself tense slightly at the looming presence suddenly standing at your back, his tall stature and the typically off-putting air around him culminating into an oddly intimidating sort of vibe. It’s not purposeful on your part, just instinct at the new unknown feeling, but it still leaves you feeling guilty as he definitely notices the movement.

You open your mouth to apologize, but only get that far as he begins massaging the tense muscles, “Détends-toi, mon cher.” The words are light, not quite a whisper and full of Sol’s usual not-quite cheeriness. Blue-lavender once again comes into your sights as you look at his expression in the mirror. It’s always a little difficult reading his emotions, for many reasons, but this look was something you really couldn’t understand. Funnily enough, something about it allowed for you to relax in his hold.

“Sorry,” you finally whisper out.

“No need for apologies,” he replies back, removing his hands to grab the towel again. “Now, let’s get this hair dry before you catch another cold.”

Fingers meet your scalp from under the cotton as Soleil tenderly begins working at the dampness. Soft but steady movements cause your eyes to slowly shut in contempt, easing you into a state of rest as you lean into the touch. You don’t realize how far you’re leaning into the touch until your back hits something solid. Your eyes fly open, slightly panicked at how he might react to you now propped up against him. Surprise hits you as all he does is freeze for a moment before he continues.

You’re not sure what reaction you were expecting. Him pushing you off his chest, maybe? A scolding? This, though, definitely wasn’t it. Your eyes track up the glass to check his expression, only to find he now looks complacent. No, there was a different word for this. This wasn’t him being smug, this was something almost soft. Content, maybe? That still wasn’t quite the word you were looking for, but it was the closest thing to what you were grasping at. Scared to be caught simply watching him, you close your eyes again and lean back into his touch.

The moment ends all too soon in your opinion, even if you knew it had been a decent few minutes. Hands retreat from your head, taking the towel with them as he returns it to his shoulder. Once free, though, his hands are quick to grab your waist. Nothing happens for just a brief second, but it’s enough for your thoughts to freeze with him. He then pushes you forward off of him and breaks whatever that fleeting moment was. Soleil gives a soft squeeze before releasing you, the look in his eyes gone as he steps back, “All done.”

Turning, you face him. Part of you wants to question what he was doing when he froze. He’d just stood there, eyes locked on the reflection in the mirror. But you decide against it. It wasn’t the only odd behavior you’d seen from him since he walked in, and you weren’t about to start an argument with him over it. Instead, you give him a smile. “Thank you, Sol.”

He blinks down at you, almost seeming to process something before his smile widens slightly. “You’re welcome.” Before the conversation can be continued, Soleil reaches past you to grab the small bag of hair supplies laying on the counter and exits the bathroom. “Come along,” the solar bot calls behind him.

“Wait, what?” You take a step back and stick your head out the doorway, “Hey, I kind of need those! What are you doing?”

Soliel stops just long enough to turn and explain before continuing on his way, “I was sent to collect you for breakfast. Sunspot is probably wondering where we are by now.”

“And my stuff? Last I checked, we didn’t need hair product to eat.”

He remains silent, leaving you to huff in frustration as you jog to catch up with him.

—— • ——

“Ah, Solly! Welcome in!”

Even if he didn’t physically show it, the mental eyeroll he gave could be felt from where you stood behind Soleil. “And to what do we owe the pleasure, Fool?” he asked as he stepped farther into the kitchen to allow you in.

Before you sat the aforementioned jester, along with Sunspot standing across the table. The android’s face was half hidden behind a bundle of something you couldn’t quite make out before it was set down. Your name slipped past his lips with a smile, “I was wondering where you might have been!”

Soft laughter came from you as you remembered what Sol had said earlier in the hall. “Hi guys,” you said with a wave, “Joining me for breakfast?”

You almost jumped when Fool suddenly slumps heavily across the bench, looking almost as if he powered down. It wasn’t until his hanging hand lifts up to his forehead that you relax. Dramatic as ever. “Sadly, I must take my leave,” he cries, “Lest the red queen have my head today.” One of his closed eyes cracked open to stare at Soleil with a growing grin. Sol visibly bristled, causing you to tense in preparation for a possible altercation, before Sunspot broke into the conversation.

“Please let us get through breakfast before starting anything. Everyone has work to be done today, meaning some of us need to eat.” The android looks pointedly towards you during his last sentence. His strained smile was enough to show his current displeasure.

Sol almost seems to imitate taking a deep breath in before his shoulders relax slightly. “Agreed,” he hisses out in strained false merriment.

Fool jumps up from his seat, giving a soft bow and a mock kiss to the back of your hand before he makes his way out of the room with a whistle. The tune isn’t one you’re familiar with but definitely something you’ve heard from him before. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Soleil track his movements with a half hidden glare before making his way to the table. You wonder if him taking Fool’s seat was a weird sort of victory celebration, or simply because it was right next to your slowly cooling food. Maybe both.

Quick to follow his lead, you sit yourself on the bench next to Sol. On the plate before you lay two cinnamon rolls, decorated with blueberries and cut up slices of strawberry. Your mouth waters as the sweet smell hits your nose. “These look incredible, thanks Sunspot,” you compliment with a smile before reaching up to grab one.

A small but sharp pain radiates from your wrist, causing you to wince slightly. Right, that. You hope that neither of the bots in the room spotted your moment of pain, but it’s quickly dashed as you spot Sunspot’s concerned look across the table. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, nothing to worry about,” you try to soothe. “Just a little carpal tunnel. I’m used to it.”

Your wrist is gently snatched up for the second time that morning and Sol mumbles something to himself in French. You want to remark something about how “mumbling is unbecoming” but, with his buttons already having been pushed moments before, you keep it to yourself. Instead, you watch as he lightly begins to press on certain parts of your hand and arm. He’s quick to loosen his thumb on your wrist when your whole arm jerks back. “Easy,” you hiss in pain, “I literally just told you what was wrong.”

Sunspot suddenly appears at your other side, softly taking your arm from Soleil’s grasp to begin his own inspection. “Have you been stretching your hands before working? Do you have a brace to sleep with? How long has this been going on?” The questions are rapid fire, but he’s quick to stop himself when he realizes.

“It really is fine guys. I usually do stretch my hands, but I’ve been a little preoccupied. Guess it just slipped my mind.” Your fingers flex absentmindedly as you speak. “The numbness started yesterday but it wasn’t terrible. Didn’t think much of it honestly. I do have a brace, I just was too exhausted last night to remember to wear it.”

Guilt stirs in your chest. You finally glance at Sunspot out of the corner of your eyes, “Sorry. I know I promised.”

He looks at you for a moment before sighing. You internally relax as he gives you a smile. A hand reaches up to move across the top of your head and rest at the back. “We’ll talk about this later, right now you need to eat.”

The imitation of someone clearing their throat comes from your right, causing you both to look up at Soleil. His eyes were locked on Sunspot’s hand for a split second before he looked between the two of you. He reaches into your bag he brought with him and lifts up the brush, “Your hair is dried, but still tangled in knots. Better to deal with those now before you forget.”

Blinking, you remember why Soleil was even here to begin with. “Oh, right, that,” you breathe out, mostly to yourself.

You feel the hand on your head run slightly through your hair before retreating. Sunspot gives a hum as he looks between your plate and the brush in Soleil’s hand. “How ‘bout this,” he proposes, “If you face me, Soleil can work on your hair while I help you eat.”

“Um, what?” you ask dumbly. It takes you a moment to realize what he was saying, a blush spreading across your cheeks, “I can feed myself, thank you.”

“This isn’t me trying to baby you,” Sunspot comments, knowing you weren’t fond of codling. He looks from you to the plate as he pulls it slightly more his way. “This is more me genuinely monitoring your health.”

“It’s better to rest your hands when you can. Otherwise it’s just going to get worse,” Soleil cuts in.

You take a moment to think as you look between your two sunny companions. Neither of them would push you if you truly didn’t want to. Well, Soleil may push, but he wouldn’t force. There would just be a possibility of more passive aggressive comments if you said no. With Sunspot there would just be disappointment. You had just talked about your promise to take better care of yourself.

Slumping in defeat, you nod your head. “Fine. Fine fine fine, we’ll do that,” you give in, causing Sunspot to give a bright smile. Turning yourself on the bench with your legs crisscrossed, you face him with your back to Soleil.

The bench groans slightly as the taller bot shifts behind you, turning to straddle it as he moves closer. Thighs press against your own as Soleil situates himself to have better access to your hair. It’s funny, you note, that his presence doesn’t cause you to tense like it did earlier. You’re able to turn your full attention to Sunspot before you as Sol begins to work the tangles out of the ends of your hair.

Pink hair bounces slightly as Sunspot sits himself crisscross on the bench as well, his knees pressing against yours. It shines brightly in the morning light coming through the kitchen window, the kind of plastic sheen that gives away its artificial nature. Pretty nonetheless. “Lift your hands, please,” he asks, placing a cloth napkin across your lap with a soft thanks as you comply. He then picks up a fork and cuts a piece off one of the cinnamon rolls, stabbing through a strawberry slice as well before bringing it up to your face. “Hopefully this is still warm enough to enjoy.”

You lean forward slightly, taking the bite into your mouth and chewing it slowly. The sweet taste of the icing and strawberry mixed with the surprisingly still warm pastry bread makes you close your eyes with a hum. Out of politeness, you swallow before speaking up, “Are these homemade?”

Sunspot nods with a grin, “Nearly everything was made from scratch.”

“I’m never getting store bought cinnamon rolls ever again,” you vow.

Laughter bubbles past his lips, seemingly infectious as you chuckle with him. “As always, just ask and I’ll make them again,” he mentioned as he cut another piece.

Serenity filled the air of the kitchen, warm in the sun’s gentle light. You and Sunspot continue to converse as you eat while Soleil continues to softly ease the tangles from your hair. At some point he moves to reach for something across the table, but returns to his almost curled position over you without a word and begins to start braiding. The numbness in your fingers is forgotten in the comfort of the feeling. Like one of those moments where the world outside of your space seems to have frozen.

Just before your last bite, a small chain of events happens. You quote an older video of a young girl saying “it’s not an airplane, it’s just a spoon”, which causes Sunspot to poke fun about airplanes not being cool enough and mimics a train with the fork in his hand. This gets a good laugh from you before it’s cut off with a yelp of surprise when something sharply stabs at your scalp. “Deeply sorry, but you really should keep still when one has pointed objects near you,” Soleil chides as he properly slides the bobby pin into your hair.

This time you do roll your eyes, knowing he can’t see your face. Sunspot shakes his head at your antics as he places the fork down. You feel your brow furrow as he gently takes your chin in hand to keep you still. “Something on your face,” he explains softly as he takes the cloth from your lap. He softly rubs at a spot just to the side of your mouth, eyes focused before he pulls back and folds the napkin, “There we go.”

You swallow at the sudden dryness in your mouth before mumbling out a soft thanks. The meal is quickly finished without any more instances, and Sunspot rises from his seat to clean your dishes. “I like the flowers, Soleil,” Sunspot says over his shoulder as he walks to the sink.

“Flowers?” you question, not able to turn your head in fear you might accidentally get stabbed again.

The aforementioned bot finishes with whatever he’s pinning into your hair before handing you your pocket mirror. Your fingers brush against the silk of his glove as you take it from him and position it to see his handiwork.

Small wildflowers stick out from the strands of the crown braid Soleil has done around your head. Vibrant purples and whites accompany the few large pink water lilies that decorate you. “Oh my god,” you breathe out. A smile splits across your face as you pivot your head to admire the work. Uncrossing your legs and throwing them over the bench, you turn to face the bot behind you, “Oh my god, this is beautiful Sol, thank you!”

Now there was that complacent look. “You’re welcome, friend,” he replies, reaching up to reposition one of the flowers. His hand drops down and his fingers ghost across your jaw. He then turns his attention to put your things back in your bag.

You clear your throat, “So, where did the flowers come from anyways?”

Sunspot turns to face you as he dries his hands, “Oh, Fool brought those in! Lovely, aren’t they?”

You see Soleil freeze out of the corner of your eyes, fists clenching slightly, but you leave him to whatever moment he’s having and look at the mirror again. They must have been the bundle you saw Sunspot holding when you first walked in the room. “They are. I didn’t even know these grew on the grounds. I’ll have to thank him when I see him again.” Sol’s hands clench a second time at the last statement.

Quiet fills the kitchen again. Bird song filters past the panes of the window. You lean slightly into Sol’s side with a sigh. Blue-lavender eyes look your way almost in silent question as he continues cleaning up.

Stopping in front of you, Sunspot drops into a crouch in front of you and softly grabs your wrist. “It would be best to let your hands rest right now,” he suggests as he massages slightly up and down your forearm.

A sigh escapes you and you slump toward him, but you give him a nod. “Yeah, alright,” you agree. You watch as the sunlight hits his hair again and give into the urge and run your fingers through the pink locks. The curls are soft, not quite real but not as plastic as you thought it would feel. “Sorry,” you pull back when you see his cheeks color, “I should have asked.”

“It-It’s fine! No harm!” He laughs nervously.

Soleil cuts in by depositing your bag into your lap. “It’s time we get started with the day,” he says as he stands, offering Sunspot a hand to help him stand. The android takes it with a thanks, smoothing down his shirt.

“Thank you again,” you call after Soleil as he exits the room, but you get no response. Sometimes, you wonder why you even bother. You then turn to Sunspot, “And thank you. Breakfast was amazing.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” he grins as he holds out his hand. You take your bag in one hand as you take his offer.

Both of you stand there for a second. His eyes are a much more vibrant blue than Soleil, you note. Striking against his warmer colors.

You give his hand a light squeeze before letting go. “I should probably return this to my room,” you say as you lift up the bag.

Sunspot gives a nod, “Right. Yeah.” He calls your name again just as you go to exit the room, causing you to turn. “Please no basement today,” he asks of you.

Frustration bubbles in your chest, but you push it down. “Got it,” you pat the door frame before leaving the kitchen. Time to go find something to occupy your time. Maybe Misuta would let you borrow a book.

#Writing of the Glade #fnaf #fnaf sb #fnaf dca #fnaf daycare attendant #gitm au #ghost in the machine au #soleil #sunspot mk1 #fnaf y/n #gitm y/n #soleil x reader #sunspot x reader

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astroismypassion · 1 year

Text

Astrology tea 🍵🍵🍵

Credit goes to my blog @astroismypassion

Trigger warning mentions of de**h, d***s

🍵 You know how Sagittarius Sun truly express their feelings? It shimmers through just a bit when they exaggerate a story. If they exaggerate a piece of information, you bet they were very surprised, too stunned to speak at the time it was happening. And them being surprised, shocked often equals exaggeration of a story.

🍵 Try to see where Juno and asteroid Groom overlap. If you have a Cancer Juno, yet Groom at 28 (Cancer degree), it could be a Cancer Sun that ends up proposing you.

🍵 But when you look at your own asteroid Briede (19029) sign, this is the Sun sign YOU might be the most serious about and who you would propose to.

🍵 Cancer Venus always gives a thoughtful, yet small, sometimes a cheap gift that relates to both of you, connects you two. For example you both like drinking tea and they buy you a tea cup and tea bags. Or you both really enjoy vinyl records and they buy you one. It’s always something that connects you two. 😀 You guys are really thoughtful gift-givers!

🍵 Aries Mercury gets really bored of one way of communicating for too long. For example, if you were sending each other audio messages for too long, they will want to change it and do phone call instead or video call etc.

🍵 Gemini Chiron and Gemini Lilith often gets scars, bruises on their fingers, hands. Or they may get skin on their hands, fingers easily burnt when cooking, when starting a fire.

🍵 Virgo over the 5th house might develop a crush on any person that they share the same ideas, viewpoint. If they like someone’s arguments, life philosophy, habits. They might develop a crush on someone when they think “This (wo)/man thinks just like me!”. They could also strongly relate to certain book authors and writers, because of the way they think, they might have a strong liking of their work. They might be prone to cheating mentally, if this would exist. When they are starting to agree more with someone else’s viewpoints, opinions than their partner’s, you might be losing them. 😬

🍵 Sagittarius Suns with Scorpio Mercury are oddly preoccupied with the idea of death and them dying and how they will die. Some have special requests on how they wish to be buried or which song they would like to be played at their funeral.

🍵 I noticed Scorpio Mercury are controversial, but for some reason Taurus Mercury seem to be too. Like Taurus Mercury celebrities Kanye West, Megan Fox, Kristen Stewart, Lena Dunham, Miranda Kerr, Donatella Versace, Abigail Breslin, Cher, Kirsten Dunst, Renée Zellweger. They had some controversial views and opinions throughout years. They are just likely to be canceled on the internet or just really disliked due to jealousy, envy they evoke in others as much as Scorpio Mercury. They could also receive public dislike online.

🍵 If you have Aries Part of Fortune you might find yourself in struggles in life (difficulties in college, financial issues etc.) that not even your family members will be able to advise you on or support you. In times of conflict and stress you will often be alone to find the real courage and strength needed.

🍵 People might not believe Pisces Moon when they say they don’t do drugs. Also, they could experience random drug tests.

🍵 However, also on Pisces Moon: they have weird fascination with psychedelics, yet dislike weed and drugs. Some believe psychedelics could heal their trauma. 🤷🏼‍♀️

🍵 I noticed Aries Moons often have a female sibling. They grew up around strong women in their family who are very independent, unmarried or career driven.

🍵 Sagittarius Sun when younger might have often been the butt of the joke in their friend group. This is one side of Sagittarius Sun that hasn’t been talked enough. People have made fun on their expense often times when their were feeling insecure enough on their own. That’s why they try to not show much emotion, appear unfazed and diffuse things back with humour.

🍵 Aquarius Venus might date their friend, or multiple people until committed or could ghost. But Uranus in the 2nd house?? These guys don’t participate in hookup culture (and rebel against it), don’t entertain multiple people (doesn’t have a roaster), don’t do ghosting.

🍵 Taurus Venus has a love language of gift giving and this is also how they flirt, they just start buying you things or food. Yet, sometimes this can come across trying to buy their loved one’s love. 😬

🍵 Venus in the 6th house looves using hand cream. People compliment them for their soft hands more than they would any other placement.

🍵 Asteroid Kiss sign in the Kiss Persona chart could indicate the Sun sign of the person you will share your first kiss with.

Credit goes to my blog @astroismypassion

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secret-subject · 7 months

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Why are we so convinced ADHD (and other neurodivergent people) can't be hypnotized?

This is something I've thought about a lot lately. So a little context of why:

So I've been doing hypnosis for about 12 years now. Back when I was 18 I joined the irc chat on WMM and started being hypnotized pretty much daily. I did files and I had dominants to play with and that continued for a long time. By the time I was in my mid 20's I was extremely easy, in fact too easy. The culture back then also wasn't the greatest for me and my subject agency was pretty mid (gotta love hindsight) but again, I was known for having a very good and very squishy brain. In 2022, my Mum was diagnosed with ASD but also got a surprise ADHD diagnosis. Now, we are very similar so she insisted I get tested and low and behold I have ADHD, inattentive subtype.

This blew my mind because for the longest time I had the clear signs of undiagnosed ADHD but a lot of these things were assumed came from my history of doing a buttload of conditioning files, my health conditions and just being "like that". By this stage I had stopped being hypnotized myself and focused on my role as a dominant and content creator because that for me was something I just had to focus on. My switching stopped and I didn't go under for about three years.

So now, I took a hiatus to go and try something else and when I came back I was stressed and got back into testing out files again. (Also super lucky in this time some friends of mine became hypnosis creators so that was a great way to dabble with people I can trust). My first few experiences were like getting on a bike after years of not riding. It was a little wobbly but soon with practice I was right back where I left off and now even better than that. I think right now I'm getting some of the literal deepest trance experiences ever. It's hard to describe but all I'll say is "oooof".

So why is this backstory important?

Because this is one very clear narrative of a person who had undiagnosed ADHD and found hypnosis very achievable with time, practice and a buttload of conditioning with the right people. Because my ADHD was not a factor until now, I never got told, "you can't be hypnotized" this self fulfilling proficy that makes people feel like this isn't for them which for me seeing this narrative in online spaces breaks my heart for the people who see this and feel that is their label and that is what sticks.

I think it's not our place to say who can or cannot be hypnotized as a general rule because there are not general rules in hypnosis. You can't look at someone and assess them based on factors you don't know or understand. In this world there are very few people who straight up cannot be hypnotized at all to some degree (far less then even the research people keep quoting says at this point) and this is why I feel so strongly that we need to instead of trying to label entire groups as "not good for play" to instead change the narrative to "let's see what works for more people" because brains are different and hypnosis can not be a one size fits all approach. It's too subjective for that.

This is also the biggest reason I made the ADHD hypnosis kink audio recently. I used my knowledge of hypnosis and some research on presentations of ADHD in combination to make something I felt was quite special. Maybe in the future this is something I can work on again because I want all the ADHDers with a hypnosis kink to be able to harness that hyperfocus and those skills we have to make kinky fun times extra fun.

So like, is it time we gave up generalizations on people like this? I know I'm ready to not hear my brain judged before you've even seen what it can do.

#hypnosis #hypnok1nk #adhd and hypnosis #im great at being hypnotized and i have adhd dammit

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nerdysleepybunny · 4 months

Note

Hallo! im new here so please let me know if i cross any boundries.'

anywho, I was wondering if i could request a platonic philza and/or techno comfort? ive had bad few days :(

Have a wonderful day/night!

I APOLOGIZE FOR GETTING TO THIS SO LATE!! I literally love dsmp asks even though the fandom is dying off, so this definitely isn’t crossing any boundaries! I hope you’re doing better. My dms are open if you ever need to chat! :D

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

Character(s): Philza, Technoblade (ft. Mumza & Chat)

Fandom(s): DreamSMP

Reader: Gender neutral (you/your)

Style: Hcs

TW: N/A

Summary: How Philza and Technoblade (separate) would comfort you!

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

Philza:

I feel like he’s the type to just know you aren’t doing well before you even say anything.

Like, you’re just sitting there in your feels, then suddenly?

BOOM CONCERNED DAD RIGHT IN YOUR FACE

“Are you okay, mate?”

“Do you need anything?”

“Here, let’s sit and have a chat.”

Literally shooing chat away so it’s just the two of you having quality time together.

Would sit down next to you on a couch, but probably wouldn’t initiate any touching. The most I see him doing is a shoulder pat or a hand rubbing your back.

Of course, he wouldn’t mind you leaning on him or embracing him! He just doesn’t want to touch you in case you want your space :)

If you want to talk about it he’s there to listen and offer wise old man advice (if you call him old while you’re upset, it’s the ONE time he won’t get defensive about it)

He’s just talking giving you some advice about your problems, then he hears you snickering

“What’s so funny?”

“You sound so old right now, Phil.”

Usually he’d shout his usual “I’M NOT OLD/I’m only in my 30’s, mate…” (I’m pretty sure he’s canonically thousands of years old but shh let grandpa be delusional)

But now? He’d just chuckle and shake his head

“Whatever you say, mate.”

DON’T EXPECT HIM TO BE SOFT FOREVER, IT’S ONLY BECAUSE YOU’RE CURRENTLY SAD

After you’ve concluded your venting/told him that you don’t want to talk about it

You know what time it is…

DISTRACTIONS!!!

Pillow fort anyone? He’s giving pillow fort vibes.

He’s a dad, so obviously he’d just do all the work and build it for you. Again, only because you’re sad. Any other time he’d yell at you for not helping.

Speaking of sadness

Don’t let Phil’s wife see you sad…

OH NO YOU’RE SAD? NOW MUMZA IS SAD AND IS RUSHING TO COMFORT YOU

Mumza is the type to cry when she sees someone else crying, so now both of you are just sobbing together and Phil is there trying to comfort the two of you but is an overwhelmed old man and may end up crying himself

Uh… cry party?

Either you all end up making fun of each other for crying which results in you all laughing together, or you just cry till you get sleepy and pass out on the floor together.

What an interesting way to family bond.

Technoblade:

So you seek The Blade for comfort, the most monochrome and nonchalant man on the server. What a wonderful decision, reader! /lh (I’d do the exact same)

If you’re a Technoblade fan you’ve definitely heard the “it’s fine” audio.

Now I can either be wholesome and say he’d hold you close and whisper that everything will be okay to you

Or I can be silly and realistic and say that he’d pull out a phone and just play the audio with a blank face, but is laughing on the inside due to your “what the actual fuck” face.

Okay now for some actual comfort!

As we all know… Technoblade isn’t exactly good at comfort.

He kills orphans for a living, how do you think he’d react seeing someone crying like a child?

He’s standing looking at you with a look of “why is this creature screaming” and “wtf do I do”

“Uh… you good? You okay? You, uh… need a hug…?”

Very awkwardly holds his arms out for a hug, and if you accept, he even more awkwardly pats your back.

If you got his shirt wet with tears, he’d DEFINITELY comment about it

“Are you seriously ruining my shirt? How are my enemies supposed to think I have a good fashion sense now?!”

Goes into a rant about how he needs to look his best and how it’s a good strategy to beat his enemies in battle while you’re kinda just there… honestly are you even crying anymore?

You’ve stopped crying ages ago, and he’s still just talking

In conclusion, Technoblade is good at calming people down without even trying (I was literally having a breakdown and all I needed to do was listen to the silly pig man talk about Greek mythology. It must all be part of his master plan…)

Speaking of listening to his voice, here’s a scenario.

“Technoblade, can you read to me?”

“…what?”

“Read to me.”

“I’m not reading you a bedtime stor-“

“I wanted you to tell me about Greek mythology.”

“Fine. Come here.”

Long story short, he starts by reading you just one story. That one story turns into the entire history of the Greek gods and goddesses… yeah you pass out pretty quickly. But Technoblade isn’t one to stop mid-ramble. Once he notices you’re asleep, he’ll continue talking, just quieter. He’ll eventually get sleepy himself, and soon enough… you’re both asleep.

Works like a charm!

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

#bun asks #bun writes #technoblade x y/n #technoblade x you #technoblade x reader #technoblade fluff #philza x reader #philza #philza minecraft #philza x kristen #dreamsmp x reader #dreamsmp x you #dreamsmp #mumza #dsmp fluff #dsmp x you #dsmp x reader #dsmp x y/n #comfort fic

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w--zii · 4 days

Text

a surprise - part two

bf!jihoon x f!reader

[minors dni]

smut warning:usage of words like slut, filthy etc. orgasm control, let me know if theres more.

vc:703

you took a deep sigh as you closed the folder in your hands and checked for the time. your dinner order should be here by any time now. you went to kitchen to have some water and when you came back to lay on your shared bed with jihoon, a notification popped on on your screen from him.

▶️AUDIO—6:24

he must be so bored, you thought, as you clicked on the notfication. how innocent.

hi baby^^ listening to it now<33

he only sent a creepy smile and left you alone with the voice record.

first seconds of the audio were only his breathing, you didn't understand a single thing, just continued listening while your eyes kept a stare on the white ceiling.

"y/n.. a-ahh,"

your tracks stopped after hearing his voice. did he really moan your name? your face and entire body started to warm up, you felt like your heart might melt anytime.

"f–fuck oh, feels so good."

you started to breathe heavily.

"i miss you–ah," his every word ended with a whine or moan, it turned you on more. hearing your name on his lips has a dirty impact on you.

now you can hear his breathe getting faster and his groans deeper by every second. you started to squirm in your place, pressing your thighs together to get some kind of friction, didn’t help much though.

jihoon

one message. and he got you. thinking of how wet you would be right now made his cock twitch in his pants. (yes, again, he was desperate.)

"i s–swear, mhh–if i don't get there asap, my cock is g–gonna fall ah–off"

his words made you chuckle. your right hand reached for your clothed wetness, cupping it. you let out a whimper. jihoon didn’t respond to your message yet, he wants you desperate too.

“y/n, i know you're dripping right now. my filthy slut.”

you kept listening to him as he reached his climax. audio ended, you called jihoon in light speed to ask about the heck he done.

he accepted the call with a smirk on,

“what's up baby?” he's having fun and it's obvious.

“jihoonie... i miss you,” you said in a crying tone, he will help, right?

“mhm, i miss you too. i wish you were here, pretty.”

“i love it when you tease me.”

sudden confess made his heart drop.

“oh? is that so?” his eyes turning dark, he knows what you're trying to do.

“you can wait for me, yeah? beautiful?”

“please...”

“it won't take long i promise, baby.”

you fake cried to him, not trying to be a brat but you needed him, now. your pleas continued and jihoon just listened to you. still smiling to himself.

“y/n, i said no. right? you heard me? no touching to yourself. be a good girl for me, yeah?”

“okay hoonie...” almost whispered to yourself. you lost your voice.

“mhm? couldn't hear you, baby.”

“i'll be your good girl i promise, jihoonie”

he grinned when he heard you, you are all pouty and he knows it.

“good girl, as you should. now i'm gonna go, i need to sleep, okay? i'll call you when i'm done with work tomorrow. good night baby. i love you.”

“love you too jihoonie good night.”

you let out a puff and sulked. “really jihoon...”

as you were making your way to bathroom, to get cleaned up, another notification popped on your screen from him.

baby boy^_^;

would you like to send me a picture of yourself too before we sleep?

i wanna see you without a top on, baby.

you cursed in your breath and removed your shirt, your tits bouncing when they freed.

you took a photo showing off your boobs, lips in a pout, you tried to act angry but failed, he'll find you more cute.

that's my girl, thank you. you look so good baby i missed those tits so much.

if i was there i'd just make you cum only playing with your buds

i bet you're so fucking wet for me right now

filthy girl.

tf jihoon you look so good TT

i miss you i miss you i miss youu

shut up or i'll come untouched😭

bet lol

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

a/n: help i don't like this at all lmaoo TT

not proof read. © w--zii. do not repost.

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nipuni · 3 months

Text

I have another DW report! It took a while because we've been hosting friends and family visiting from abroad for a few months now and had a lot of work on top of that so we haven't had much quiet time alone to sit and watch but we made it to the end of S10!!

I'll share our thoughts under the cut because it's a lot!

We adored 12! His run was amazing, one of the best! A lot of episodes became all time favourites for us and Peter Capaldi is now our second favourite Doctor after David. His acting is impeccable and he is a delight to watch. He is so funny and inspiring and everything The Doctor should be, absolutely loved him!!

We enjoyed Clara, her characterization had some inconsistencies with her having several different arcs that felt disjointed at times but she is so memorable and made herself into such an integral part of The Doctor's life. Watching her change and their relationship become more codependent and unhinged as time went on was super interesting. Nardole grew on us. And BILL? Bill!! Oh my god dear Bill managed to outsuffer even Martha and that is saying a lot, I'm still traumatized I was not expecting the finale to go that way for her what the fuck and what a finale that was, devastating, we loved it!! but GOD sweet Bill her fate was brutal, I would have loved to see her go on more adventures and grow 😭

Now, the highlight of these seasons for me was Missy!! I'm obsessed, she's my favourite version of The Master so far and my favourite character after The Doctor, I LOVE HER 🙏 She needs more seasons! (I'm aware of the audios I'll get my ears on those as soon as I can) She's hilarious and clever, mean but soft and so so gorgeous AHHHHH She somehow manages to be terrifying and endearing at the same time and you can feel and share The Doctor's hope for her. Her death broke my heart, what do you mean The Doctor will never find out she stood with him in the end!! The romance, the tragedy!! I didn't dare hope they would take their story there and they went above and beyond. Every second she was on screen I was holding my breath and kicking my feet for real. To the people that said I would love their relationship when I started watching DW you were so right and know me too well 😳

Some of our favourite episodes from 12's run were Listen, Mummy on the Orient express, Heaven Sent and The doctor falls. Though there are a lot of good ones really, all the ones with Missy in them, Deep Breath, Flatline, Oxygen, the heist one, Thin Ice, The pilot, the one with the ghosts underwater, the ones with the pyramid monks, the parts with River, the one with the boxes and Zygons, the last special, all really enjoyable!!

We are also five episodes into S11 and I have to admit that despite our best efforts so far we are not enjoying Chibnall's writing at all 😫 but it's still early so we stay hopeful, maybe it's just a rough start and it will pick up after all the exposition. We will keep going so that we are all caught up by the time the new season starts airing!!

I hope you are all doing well! I am once again apologizing for not replying to asks in ages!! I've been mostly away from social media for months outside of posting every now and then so they keep piling up and it's become intimidating 😫 but I'll get to them soon!!

I also wanted to thank you for all the kind comments and tags on my art and photos, they really keep me going so I'm very grateful!! 😭💖

#doctor who #DW report #personal

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makeyoumine69 · 1 year

Text

I Wanna Feel You in My Bones

◥ PAIRING: Sugar Daddy!Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

◥ SUMMARY: Patrick decided to show you how to train more effectively, but he didn't tell you that it would involve sex.

◥ WARNINGS: NSFW │porn with feelings, oral (both receiving), clothes ripping kink, vaginal sex, creampie, fingering, nipple play, body worship, teasing, heavy Daddy kink, mild degradation kink, spanking, overstimulation, dirty talk, pet names, sensual baby Patrick himself.

◥ WORDCOUNT: 2.5k

◥ A/N: I kept this in my drafts for too long! Many thanks to the amazing anon who sent me this request, and my dear @thesirenrealm for the gif set she made for me!💞 Hope you like it! *hugs*

◥ SONG REC: Tame Impala - New Person, Same Old Mistakes🔥

◥ LINKS: [Sweet like a Cupcake Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]

Your heavy breathing bounced around Bateman's fashionable living room as you tried your best to finish the damn stomach crunches he asked you to do.

"No, no, Cupcake," Patrick scolded, standing near his audio system and watching you from above. "That doesn't count!"

Huffing, you glowered at him, small droplets of sweat running down your aching abs. "W-what? Why?!"”

“You are slacking off…a lot.” Smirking, he got closer and leaned down to touch your belly.

"Well," you stammered as his cold finger caressed your skin, painting invisible lines across it. "I'm not as physically fit as you."

"That's why you need to work harder," Patrick said, pressing his palm against your stomach and licking his lips briefly as his tantalizing gaze roamed shamelessly over your tense body. "'C'mon, baby. Move!"

Desperately, you let out an exhausted whine before you obeyed and did a few more crunches, feeling your muscles tighten like a string.

"Good girl," Bateman crooned, holding your bent legs to keep you in place. "Keep going, you're almost there."

“You’re not helping!” You muffled as you seemed to reach your limit.

"Really?" A small chuckle echoed in your ears. Shaking his head, Patrick knelt beside you and lifted your hips up to smack your juicy ass. "Next time I won't hold your legs. No one helps me when I work out, you know."

You wriggled in his grip, trying to slip out, but that only encouraged him to drag you closer. And then his powerful arms were already pulling your leggings off, tickling your bare skin a bit.

"Patrick..." you gave him an innocent look, pressing a finger to your half-open lips. "I'm too tired."

Sneering, Patrick exposed your butt, squeezing it with his both hands. “You don’t need to do anything, silly. Not now.”

You gasped as his large palms were still playing with your buttocks, sending shivers down your spine. “G-God…you're incorrigible, m-mhm…”

No matter how weary you were, this man was evoking something primal inside your gut, something that could force your blood to rush in your veins, melting your body like a candle.

Possessively, Bateman cupped your heated pussy, not surprising how wet you already were. “Did watching me exercising aroused you that much, my slutty girl?”

Without resistance, he pushed your panties aside and rubbed your swollen lower lips to taste your sweet flavor.

“Ah, Daddy…” You mewled, watching him suckling off his fingers and touching his hard groin.

Trembling, you could definitely see the outline of his huge dick thanks to the tight gray pants he was wearing. With a quiet growl, Patrick pulled on your leggings way too harshly for just removing them and then, you heard a distinctive sound of ripping fabric.

"W-what are you..." before you could say that, Bateman's muscular hands were already working on tearing your underwear apart, not even paying attention to your angry protests. "Stop! That was my favorite!"

"Leggins or panties?" He laughed in a mocking way, tossing hunks of fabric to the floor and lifting your bottom.

“Both!”

"What a shame," his devilish smile was brighter than the sun, even his slightly sweaty locks couldn't hide it. “But don’t worry, Daddy will get you new ones.”

"But-" an electric shock coursed through your body as his heated mouth touched the delicate skin of your inner thigh, forcing your words to stick like a lump in your throat. "Aa-ahh, Patrick..."

Shyly, you covered your face with the palm of your hand, feeling the growing tension as he approached your mound. Panting with excitement, Patrick whispered: "Damn, I love the way you get embarrassed," he purred, leaving tiny hickeys wherever he could. "My delicate...mmm-little Cupcake."

After saying that, he greedily moved your hips closer, raising them higher and resting your legs on his broad shoulders, and then he couldn't wait any longer to bury his face between your legs as he began to eat your sleek pussy.

Right away you arched your back from the sharp spasm in your womb, his wet tongue swirling around your blushing clit so perfectly, so masterfully. And of course Bateman knew how good he was making you feel when he heard your sweet, innocent moans that made his cock twitch from how fucking hard it was.

“Pull up your top and play around with your nipples, I wanna watch,” he didn’t ask you–he insisted. “You’re shaking already, how pathetic.”

Sobbing, you did what he wanted and now you were balancing yourself on the edge of pure bliss, rolling your taut peaks between your fingers while his experienced mouth was sucking out all of your sweet juices.

"A-aww," you almost screamed as Patrick gripped your ass and lifted your lower body even higher, not letting you move and looking at you from above while lapping at your dripping cunt. “Oh, G-God…” that was certainly a big mistake, to stare at him back, as your inner walls were about to clench into a spiral from the eye contact you made. “Pat-Patrick, please…Take m-me…”

"Take you? What do you mean?" Teasingly, he tugged on your sore clit with a squelch, his chin glistening in the daylight with your slickness.

What an asshole.

“Stop pretending!” you hissed as he kept doing nothing, but waiting for your answer. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“Maybe I do…but I want you to say that,” with a sassy smirk, Bateman made one flat lick across your sensitive folds. “Cupcake, if you want I can lean over…and you will whisper it into my ear.”

Rolling your eyes, you felt him moving along your body. Oh shit, was he really serious?

“So?” He climbed on top of you before he bit your lower lip, pressing you down with his massive muscles.

“Mmhm,” you shrugged and whimpered beneath his solid frame as he brushed his hips against yours, to make sure you knew how stony his dick was. “Fuck me…D-Daddy.”

“And how do you want me to do this?” Bateman whispered near your cheek, and then he playfully licked your earlobe, coaxing all of your insides to cramp almost painfully. “Tell me more, baby…”

“Fuck me… just the way you like it, Daddy.”

“Really?” he continued to rub himself against you, grinning sparkly from how your hands were nervously tracing against the floor. “You must be really desperate…”

You exhaled noisily, when Patrick came back to his previous position, resting on his knees in front of your opened wide legs. Smoothly, he put off his sweaty white T-shirt, letting you admire his perfect torso–you couldn't take your eyes off of the small drops of sweat that were running down his small trail of hair and damn, that vein under his navel.

And of course, Patrick couldn't miss your foggy gaze which was hungrily tracing all around his firm frame. Arrogantly, he drew close to your neck to leave a noticeable wet mark on it before he kissed your mouth really hard, pushing his strong tongue inside as far as he could. Closing your eyes, you nearly choked, frantically clawing at his broad back, feeling his strong muscles tense under your touch.

Eventually, Bateman broke away from your lips to tease your hard nipple a bit, as he couldn't leave his favorite tits without his attention. Licking and sucking on your tip, he was literally tormenting your strained mind when he suddenly grabbed both of your hands and pressed them against his beefy tiddies, sliding them down over his abdomen to his pubis.

Panting sharply, you almost froze in place, glancing at him from under your lashes, but he only smiled at you as he got closer to your face, caressing it and tracing his long finger across your lips to make you know what he wanted. Taking a deep breath, you slowly pulled down his gray pants, exposing his glistening tip, and then you gave it a few kitten licks, causing his palms clenched into fists.

“Babydoll…” he groaned, nearly audible as you took his full length inside your mouth. Gritting his teeth, Patrick tilted his head down to see your plump lips latched around his thick shaft. “So needy…so slutty, ah-fuck…”

Soon, his pounding became more and more persistent, you even had to lean on his hips to slow him down a bit. But then, Bateman pulled his dick out from your mouth as suddenly as he pushed it in, leaving behind a thin trail of your saliva.

“Gosh, Patrick…” you muffled, hungerly catching the air. “You’re insane.”

“Yes, (Y/N),” he mused husky, prodding his leaking cock against your wet little hole. “I am.”

A loud, uncontrolled moan escaped your lips before you realized it as he fucked you slowly but deeply, his solid hips meeting yours in perfect synchrony; his languid breathing was all that mattered to you now, even your own gasping was nothing compared to his, especially when he towered over you, demanding in a stern tone: “Let it out, Cupcake.” Gently, Patrick placed his arms under your shoulder blades, hugging you tightly to keep you closer and never stopping to thrust into your spasming pussy.

Shuddering with every push he made, you submitted to his will, again. “Please… k-kiss me…”

Domineeringly, Bateman clasped your chin to open your lips even wider as your wet tongues slipped against each other in a sensual dance of pure lust. God, you were so close, the way he drilled into your tight inner channel was almost brutal, yet so delightful, his ferocity and almost affectionate caresses making you sink into emotions you never knew you could feel.

“Pat…Patrick…” You cried out, as you couldn't take it any longer.

“I know, dear,” growling, Patrick looked into your hazy eyes before pushing himself as deep as he could, his heavy balls hitting your ass made you almost squirm. “Mm-mhh…wrap your legs around my back…I need to feel you closer.”

His sudden words took your breath away because he sounded so sentimental and desperate - he was already fucking you so hard and it was still not enough. There was no more thinking as you hooked your hips around his loin, crossed them and then let yourself go. The next second you were cupping his firm ass and Bateman couldn't resist sneering in ecstasy, even with his messy hair he looked so perfect.

Everything about him seemed to be perfect, the way he treated your body was not an exception. Seizing the moment, when your legs only started to shake, Bateman pulled out of you abruptly and went down on you again, swiping your clit with his hot tongue.

“Aa-ahh, Daddy…Aa-www…” Your voice waved as you climaxed so intensively, you had to grab on the mat beneath your quivering body.

“Mmm…” Patrick moaned against your cunt, tightly holding your legs to prevent them from closing, his fierce mouth never stopped devouring your tender flesh.

“A-awww, f-fuck…ah!” Still trembling, you yelped with how his thin curling fingers were suddenly stimulating your G-spot, prolonging your orgasm and forcing you to gush like a fucking whore.

"Well, well, well... look who just cummed so hard," Bateman rejoined, stuffing his fingers into you to the knuckles, your sleek flavor almost floating on his Rolex, which he always wore, but he didn't care. "Jesus, are you going to flood my apartment?"

His mocking words only urged your inner muscles to clench tighter around his fingers, you thought you were going to faint as you felt yourself so light-headed and completely devastated. But yet, you managed to lean on your elbows to see him licking off his fingers and lazily stroking his soaked cock.

“What about you, Daddy?”

Patrick brushed his sweaty hair away, unable to stop a broad smile from appearing on his tense face as his wild nature craved a sweet release – it yearned for you. "Oh, you're so lovely, Cupcake," he beckoned with his finger, and you followed him as if hypnotized. "Do you want to take care of me, honey? Make Daddy feel so good?"

You nodded, barely breathing, but the tantalizing sight of his twitching cock gave you no chance as you let the longing heat in your body take over, forgetting everything, there was only you and him and your ravenous need to meld together.

Without saying a word, you allowed him to sit you on his firm knees and ring your legs around his back, and then you shrugged when he bottomed out, because you were already so worked up that it even hurt.

"Mmm, Patrick..." you huffed into his ear, keeping up the pace and riding him more deeply. "You're so b-big...Gosh...Ahhh, please...fill me with your seed!"

"Ahh, you want my cum?" He squeezed your waist, controlling your movements and helping you a little as he fucked you from below.

"A-aawhh...yes!" you bounced on his beefy shaft, desperately hugging his strong shoulders as you let him wreck you like a toy. "I want it all...till the last d-drop...p-please."

With a guttural sound, Bateman grabbed your ass, rammed deep but sloppily into you, and the next moment you felt his hot liquid pumping you from inside, painting the walls of your womb white; his fingers digging almost painfully into your soft skin as his orgasm hit him hard.

A little while later, you were both still writhing in pleasure, his strong arms wrapped around you like ropes, as if he was afraid you would disappear like a mirage. Panting, you looked down at him, pulling away his brown tresses to see his peaceful face, now so flushed from the heat. Mesmerized, you didn't even realize that you were literally admiring his perfect features, tracing a finger along his cheekbone while his eyes were tightly shut. But when he suddenly opened them, your blurry gazes met and you felt as if you had been caught doing something wrong. But was it really that wrong or was it just in your head?

"Cupcake..." Bateman let out a sharp breath before leaning in to kiss you on the lips, wiping away all thoughts, leaving nothing but the illusive sensation that this man belonged to you, completely and irrevocably.

Afterwards, Patrick pressed his forehead against yours and you were so afraid of ruining the moment that you stayed still in his embrace, listening to his rapid heartbeat.

Unfortunately, that did not last long as he got up and left you on the mat while he removed his pants completely. Huffing, you watched him stroll around his living room completely naked, and holy hell... he was still so hard. You gasped when you heard him talking with his casual, arrogant intonation:

"When you remember how to walk, join me in the shower," he said as he headed toward the bathroom, his solid hips swinging with each step. "But don't make me wait too long."

The last vestiges of his vulnerability faded with him as the sound of the door closing echoed in your ears. Still, it helped you wake up from your naive reflection on his candor.

You wished you could just stop thinking, you wished you were free, you wished you never met him.

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader

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santacoppelia · 4 months

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Of fandom, age, and David Tennant being our own personal Time Lord

I read the fantastic post that @davidtennantgenderenvy wrote about David Tennant and aging (if you haven’t yet read it, go for it!) and, as a fan who is closer to DT's age range than to what seems to be the rest of the fan base's age (yeah, being well over 40 is A THING), I had an interesting mix of ideas and emotions. I was going to just reblog her post with some of these musings, but when this started getting longer (and I started searching for bibliography, ha), I decided that I was not going to hijack her post, but rather cite it (and reblog it on its own right, really, read it). I should say that this is a long essay, and it comes peppered with references to one of my preferred fields of study (but I make it light and fun, promise).

Becoming an “old geek”

The first time I came into the idea was when I found a thirst TikTok with that very nice audio that goes “I think I need someone older…” and clearly, the thirst was there, but also… David is 8 years older than me, and when you are 45, thirsting over someone who is 53 doesn’t feel as “edgy” (and thinking about “needing someone older” starts verging on thirsting over people well over 65, which is absolutely fine, but a very different category over all for the rest of TikTok). So yeah, it was weird. You see someone who you feel is "in your range" and everyone is calling them "old"… And you start thinking about aging, inevitably.

Of course, I "don't feel old", but most of my friends are younger than me, and I'm the oldest person in many of my "fun activities". Take, for example, my lightsaber combat team, where every sponsorship is pitched to people under 30, and you should be training at least twice a week and following a strict diet to reach the expected “competitive or exhibition” level (enter the “old lady” who is taking this training just for fun, who needs to take care of her joints and who is not going to be invested in becoming Jedi Master General or anything of the sorts in the near future). Or we can talk about the expectation about fandom in general being a “teenage phase”, and thinking about everyone who still is into it actively after certain age as “immature” or “quirky” at best (hi, mom! Hi, work colleagues! Hi, students!).

Society, aging and social constructs

Of course, this has a lot to do with societal expectations. For almost 80 years, popular culture has been built around "youth" and "young people": before rock & roll, most things (music, clothes, movies, art in general) were targeted to “adults”, and you were expected to be “a functional adult” since a younger age. There was a seismic shift in the way popular culture was built when consumer culture decided to see and cater young people: trends became shorter, being “hip” was desirable, staying younger for a longer period was a nice aspiration (a good, light reading to get a deeper view around this is “Hit Makers” by Derek Thompson. It is written for marketers, but that makes it an easy historic overview and I like that). This has a lot to do with the change of our view about old people, too: while being old 100 years ago (yup, 1924 still fits the bill) made you “a respected elder” and you were expected to be wise, to know best, to be the voice of reason and an expert, nowadays not even us older people like being seen as “old” or “older”.

Frequently, culture becomes entrenched in binary oppositions. The binary opposition between “young” and “old” is… well, old! And while the opposition is sustained, the meanings around it change over time (that’s what the past paragraph was about, really). If in the 1940’s being old meant “mature, respectable, wise, responsible” and being young meant “inexperienced, immature, foolish”, after the 1950’s those meanings shifted a lot: being young became “fun, interesting, in the now and in the know, attractive”, while being old was about being “boring, dusty, passé, uninteresting, dull”.

In reality, being young can be a mix of all of these things (inexperienced and fun and foolish and attractive), and being old can be, at the same time, being responsible and wise and a little dusty and dull, because that’s life *shrugs*, and the wonder of lived experience is that, even if we simplify it, it is complex and rich and sometimes contradictory in itself: we can be old and foolish and interesting and boring, or young and dull and inexperienced and attractive. But, as we need to make “social sense” of things, simplifying them is… easier. That’s why we build stereotypes, and why we use them! We need to have a “base” of signifiers to build upon, so we usually take what we have on our environment and run with it. If you find this idea interesting, welcome to the world of cultural semiotics! *takes her Iuri Lotman picture out of her pocket and puts it on the desk*

(Iuri Lotman, people. He is my "patron saint").

Pop culture versus “real culture”

Another cultural opposition that piques my interest in this area is the notion of “pop culture”, of course. It is opposed to “real, serious culture”, the sort of thing that everyone expects "older, mature people" to enjoy. In the sixties and seventies, there were a lot of studies and writing about "high brow" and "low brow" culture, trying to keep this distinction between "things that make you familiar with the now, but have no intrinsic value" and "eternal things that cultivate your mind, soul and spirit".

Evidently, if you ask me, this is a whole load of horse manure: probably useful to fertilize other things, but with little intrinsic value on its own. My main point is not dolphins, but the idea of culture: historically, it has used to mean a lot of things; from the notion of (exactly) fertilizing something and making it grow to make it come to fruition, to the hodgepodge of practices that a social group creates when they are together and are trying to make common sense of things.

I like the latter better (that is the one I’d ascribe to if this was The Academia TM, but this is tumblr!), but another popular definition, which comes from the Illustration and has been quite prevalent, is the notion of culture as the set of cultural practices that make you a better, more intelligent, far more educated person. For example: if you want to have real culture, you have to read Shakespeare and know what a iambic pentameter is, rather than watching “10 Things I Hate About You”. You must read real books, not listen to audiobooks, and “real books” should be written by “serious authors” like (insert old white Western European or American cis men, preferably born before 1960).

Here comes the notion of “cultural canon”, grinning widely. Yup, that set of practices becomes an expectation of what and how you should experience any area of the human experience, and they become a sort of “nucleus” of the whole experience, with people playing “defense” around them and culture shifting all around and sometimes across them. This is not exclusive to “high culture”: Have you ever heard about “gatekeeping”? Yeah, same fenomenomenon (Shadwell, of course). Whenever something gets this “shape”, it becomes a “norm”, the “common” thing, the “rule” if you participate in that set of cultural practices.

As every cultural set of practices tends to generate its own “canon”, they also have a lot of practices surrounding it, which are ever changing, shifting, learning from new and old practices, and redefining what everything means in their common/shared space. For example: Neil Gaiman, my beloved, was part of the “comics” frontier when Sandman first appeared, but as he and Alan Moore (yeah, I know he did it first, but Gaiman is my study focus right now, so let me be) and other very talented and interesting people started creating fascinating stuff that hadn’t been done, and they found people who loved it, they not only redefined the world of comics, but became part of the new canon themselves. And then, Neil’s presence in the world of literature and fantasy became widespread and recognized and then revered… And then he is doing it again by adapting his own work to a streaming platform in a serialized way… I hope this explains why I’m growing an obsession with studying Neil Gaiman as an author who crosses through different media: a transmedial auteur, an anomaly in his own right. But that is not an essay for tumblr, but a thesis, one that I don’t know if I’d ever have the time or mental resources to write (being a runaway ex academic with ADHD who works on their own is hard, people). Besides, this was about aging and David Tennant, so let’s cut this tangent short and start talking about our Time Lord and Savior: David Tennant, the king of frontiers.

David Tennant as a Frontier Lord

David Tennant is another fascinating case in this sense, mostly because he is an actor who has been able to build a whole very impressive career through crossing symbolic frontiers. Through his massive filmography (161 roles just for screens, as registered in IMDb) and his stage career (I love this gifset for this exact reason), he has acted his way through almost everything, from classical Shakespeare to improvisational comedy, from procedural police drama to wacky fantasy sci-fi. This has a lot to do with his personality (he loves acting, he decided to pursue acting as a career thanks to his love for Doctor Who, but he is also smart and inquisitive) but, as it happens with a lot of “frontier figures”, it also has a lot to do with “unpredictable” circumstances: less of a strategy, more of an instinct.

David has talked many times about how his impostor syndrome made him feel, for the longest time, that he had to keep accepting roles, because you never know if there is going to be another one after. He is talented and open and curious (this is quite a good interview about his perspective), but this… anxiety? meant that he had also lower quandaries about saying “yes” to roles and projects that were “less consistent” with a typecast (which has been, for the longest time, one of the main strategies to build an acting career). Yeah, he has some defining characteristics that make a role “tennantish” (I’m not starting that tirade here, but yeah, you know that almost fixed set of quirks and bits), but he has also worked his way through many different genres, budgets, styles and complexities. And he has usually been as committed and as professional in a big budget-high stakes-great script sort of situation, as he has been in a highly chaotic-let’s see what sticks-small scale project.

That can be correlated by the way he talks about “acting advice”. “Be on time, learn your lines, treat everyone the same, never skip the lunch queue”… Acting is a job, and he treats it as such. Yeah, he looks for interesting projects anytime he can, but the “down to earth” attitude about it is, once again, not-usual, not-common: pure frontier. Then, when David talks about his own self (specially at a young age), he is pretty clear about his “outsider” or “uncool” status (this interview is fantastic), and how strangely disruptive it was to become not only recognizable, but cool and sexy and… everything else, thanks to Doctor Who. He went from living in the frontier to being put in the canon, but he is still, at heart, a person who is more comfortable not defining himself by that “expected” set of rules.

Him being a very private person, who insists on having a family life that seems, form this distance, stable, loving and absolutely un-showbiz just makes the deal (and the parasocial love and respect) easier to sustain; as does his openness to talk about social and political issues that interest him (passionately, again; against the norm for “well liked celebrity”, again). His colleagues also talk wonders about him, mostly because he is this sort of down-to-earth but also passionate about his craft and easy to work with. Again: not the “norm”, not the “rule” of being such a celebrity.

Many of his fans (should I say that I’m one? Or is it obvious at this point?) find this not only endearing, but comforting: he is a massive star, who has acted in a lot of terrific roles in huge productions… But he feels, at heart, as “one of us”. But he is, also, a well-respected thespian, a Shakespearian powerhouse, an international talent. He lives in a very authentic, but very unstereotipical frontier. And he seems happy about that and has made a career from it. Extensive kudos and all the parasocial love and the amateur-actress mad respect for that.

I should mention, just in passing, that a “natural” archetype for this characters that traverse frontiers… are tricksters. Think again about the “tennantish” characteristics. Here goes another essay I’m not writing right now.

Aging: The Next Frontier

This takes me to the original post that inspired the essay: living in a culture where the “norm” is “being young and famous is a desirable aspiration”, we have a fantastic actor, at peak of his craft, who is in the heart of middle age (past 50, nearing 55). Not only that, but he is an actor with whom at least a couple of generations have grown older: from the ones who feel him as “our contemporary” to the ones who grew up looking at him (like Ncuti Gatwa!).

David, being the frontier person he is, has been navigating this transition in a very “unconventional” way: he came back to the role that made him iconic (The Doctor, now with more trauma!), is starring in another fantasy series about middle-aged looking ethereal beings that at times is an adventure thriller, at times is a comedy of errors and at times is a romcom (having another beautiful trickster of a man as his co-star… There goes another tangent that is an essay); he is playing one of the quintessential Shakespeare roles for middle-aged men (Macbeth), and is, seemingly, having a lot of fun doing a lot of voice acting for animation roles (if you haven’t watched Duck Tales, you’re missing a whole lot of fun, really).

Traditionally, middle aged actors navigate that period of their career trying to reinforce their “still young, thus a celebrity” status (for example, doing a lot of action-packed movies and keep doing their own stunts while seducing women 20-30 years younger than them), or strengthening their “prestige thespian, so now a real culture person” position (fighting for more serious roles, going from comedy to drama, or working their way into The Classics©). Sometimes, they face the internalized societal expectation by also becoming a shipwreck in their personal life (yeah… the stereotype of “getting divorced, having an affair with someone half their age, getting another red convertible, getting in trouble…”) because we don’t have a good “map for aging responsibly” yet as a society. We have been so focused on youth, that we have forgotten how to age.

Again, switching to the personal experience. I was raised as a female-shaped person (yeah, being queer is fun), so part of the experience of growing (and then growing old) has been closely related with that concept from the female point of view. I decided, pretty early on (but not so much, probably 25 years ago), that I wasn’t going to conform to the norm… And that included aging naturally. When I found my first white hair, it was a shock (I was 21 or 22), but I had already seen my father fighting his own hair being white since forever. I decided it was a loss of time, money and effort… And the judgement from people in my generation and in the one that preceded me (my mother, my aunts) was stern and strict: “it will age you, and it will date us. You shouldn’t do that”. Men could do it, given the right age (being over 50) but women must not. Same with wrinkles and sagging and gaining weight and getting “pudgy”. But when men grew older, they needed to make a “show off” of their ability to seduce, to “still be a man”. Aging, then, was undesirable by any standard.

As me and my peers have grown older, and my hair has gotten increasingly silver, there have been women that come to me saying that “I look great” and “they wish they were as brave as me”. I would like to state in front of this jury of my peers (hi, tumblr!) that the only bravery it took was deciding, somewhere between my twenties and my thirties, that I wanted to be as myself as I possibly could, so no bravery at all, just the same lack of understanding of social rules that took me to become interested in… you guessed it, cultural semiotics. We’ve come full circle with this. Now, let’s finish talking about what it means for an aging fan to have an aging star to look up to, shall we?

David Tennant as a cultural Time Lord

I am pretty sure that he wouldn’t have chosen this role for himself (as he wouldn’t have chosen being a massive star just by playing his favorite character and being so talented and charming), but he is, as Loki would say, burdened by glorious purpose. Being “the actor of his generation”, and him crossing so many frontiers with such ease and grace, without even thinking about it too hard, just because he is a hard worker and likes to try new things and is just so good at what he does put him in the exact cultural crossroad for it.

He is not in a sudden need to “resignify himself” as anything: he has already shown his very flexible acting muscles through his very long career. He is not bounded to “keep his public image relevant”: he likes to have his personal life clearly separated from the spotlight, and being married to the brilliant and funny Georgia, who herself grew up with a famous father, so she is no stranger to staying sane and in control in the eye of media, and who manages their social media presence with a good mix of humor and well-set boundaries.

Therefore, he is in a moment where he can (and probably will) chose to do whatever he likes. And he has the public support to do so: he is prestigious and respected, but likes to make fun of himself and is not self-important; he has a lot of awards, but he is also a very likable person with whom most people in the industry enjoy working. And he is up to do a lot of things: heroes, villains, morally grey characters; romance, drama, thriller, fantasy, sci-fi, procedurals, historical fiction, classic plays, silly parts, voice acting… We are going to see him aging on screen and stage, with no playbook: the playbooks were written for people that certainly are not him. And I have some evidence to prove it.

He is starring in a groundbreaking series (yeah, Good Omens) where the protagonists are two middle-aged looking entities, full of queer relationships, written by another trickster. This series, in an on itself, is a showcase for characters that are rule breaking in many ways: in the narrative, by being hereditary enemies who are inevitably linked to one another by a loving bond that may or may not be romantic, but that has been in the making for 6,000 years; in representation, by having the protagonists being represented by a couple of middle aged actors who are “not serious” and “not action” coded, in a role where they are delivering romance, banter, intrigue, joy and a whole other range of emotions that are “not your stereotypical” middle-aged male-lead coded.

He also delivered the baton on a relay race with Doctor Who: he came back after almost 20 years, to bring back the generation who grew up watching him in the role, and deliver us into the arms of Ncuti Gatwa’s 15th Doctor, with the promise of taking a rest and working on getting better from all the trauma The Doctor has endured in 20 years Earth-time (which, as any Doctor Who fan knows, account for centuries of trauma in Doctor’s time). Not your usual Doctor Who Anniversary cameo, but one built to deliver some zeitgeisty emotional health promises that made the specials feel… healing. At least, for some of us.

Even when it wasn’t the hit series it deserved to be, his Phileas Fogg in “Around the World in 80 Days” is also a great delivery of an unconventional middle-aged protagonist, who goes from meek and scared and too worried about societal norms, to a lovely, tender, slightly awkward and daring person, with friends half his age who look at him but are also his peers (another kind of relationship that is not very frequent in media).

And, with all fearlessness, he has played a lively old duck in Duck Tales! Scrooge McDuck has never been a middle-aged character: he is, quite openly, an old gentleman. An adventurer, quirky, with a lot of spunk… but also quite clearly an elder to Huey, Dewey and Louie, and obviously older than Donald Duck (who is also not a young adult himself!). When you watch that series, and if you have the opportunity to catch any glimpse of him behind the scenes while recording the part, you can feel the joy he got from playing the part (and he has said time and again that he IS Scrooge McDuck, so it will become his “recurring bit” for the future).

Hopefully, David (and some other actors and actresses, for sure) will dare to build that new “aging publicly without making an arse of myself” playbook, and I (and I can imagine, many other fans in our middle age, but also fans that are right now leaving behind the “young adult” stage and becoming “adults” fair and square, and others who will arrive to this place at a future time in their lives, so I hope) will be there to bear witness, support, cheer… and learn from the model. Because that’s what fandom is about, but also because that’s how culture itself gets shaped and changes, continuously. And that is exciting and a little scary, and that’s why it is better if we do this together.

And I'd love to imagine diverse (in the full sense of the word) role models for this process and this playbook, too!!!

If you read all the way through this, I'm very grateful, take a cookie, have a gold star and suggest names for our aging interestingly role models on the "non-white-male" side of things!

Class dismissed!!

#david tennant #aging #aging gracefully (or not)#long essay #long post #cultural studies #cultural semiotics #I need someone to pay me for writing this sort of stuff really #when I said I was writing again I meant it #this was 6 pages long in Word #and it includes references #look at my (written) child #the doctorate in cultural studies would never #neil gaiman

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p1nkshield · 1 year

Text

Greetings and welcome to Chapter Seven!

Bruce kept checking and rechecking the security footage. One moment his son and the surprise guest were talking in the cave and the next a rift opens up pulling them both through.

“Hn”

Not good.

“Barbara.”

Bruce decided to call in the big guns on this one.

“Hello Bruce, I would say it’s nice to hear from you but considering this is the emergency line I'm concerned. What’s up?"

"Jason is missing."

Bruce let words fall out of his mouth quickly. He didn’t want to make his worries so apparent. He didn’t want to lose his composure. Losing his composure could cause mistakes in his detective work.

Bruce could hear the first few questions that Barbara posed.

"What do mean he's missing? Like he's left the manor? I can try to track him if you want."

Bruce nodded.

Of course he put an inter-dimensional tracker into the comms he gave to all of his children. This was exactly why.

Bruce rechecked the security footage.

For once Jason was actually wearing his.

good.

All the while Barbara was entering something into the computer on her end.

"I'm not getting anything for Jason's location..."

Bruce was truly concerned now.

He needed a lead to latch onto. Something he can focus on to keep his mind from wandering to extreme conclusions. Bruce then reviewed the audio recording from his cameras.

"Take us to Frostbite!"

"Wait!"

Frostbite? Was that a place or a person? Where have they gone that his tracker was out of range? Was it out of range or was it broken?

"You called me before listening to the audio from the security cam?"

"..."

Barbara decided not to press the matter.

"We have a lead, but I'm not really equipped to follow it. The only thing coming up for "Frostbite" is the medical condition and Icicle Jr.'s really sub par band"

Bruce's worry mixed with reluctance.

"Constantine."

"What is this now! Two calls from spooky the bat this year? I'm just tapping my toes with joy. What cataclysmic event do you have for me?"

Jason felt as though he had accidentally caught Superman's cape with his grappling hook.

He wrenched his eyes shut as he hurtled through space via map. Danny on the other hand was enjoying every moment of the journey, grinning as they flew to their destination.

Jason found himself face down among ice, snow and glaciers.

"Great One! It is good to see you, and you've returned the infinimap! You are truly full of surprises."

Jason managed to dislodge his face from the snow bank in time to see Danny being clapped jovially on the back by an eight foot tall yeti.

He could only blink.

"Who is this new guest you've brought with you?"

Jason was then scruffed like a kitten, placed on his feet and had the snow gently dusted off of his head by an eight foot tall yeti.

"That's Jason. He's cool, I promise. I was wondering if you could give us both a check up though. If you haven’t noticed yet he doesn't have a core yet and I'm tinier than usual."

Frostbite looked appraisingly between both Danny and Jason.

"And here I was about to applaud you on finally mastering shapeshifting! No matter, a friend to the savior of the infinite realms is a friend of mine. Follow me! You both shall receive the best care we can offer!"

Jason shuffled through the snow, following an eight foot tall yeti.

Said eight foot tall yeti managed to make Jason feel surprisingly comfortable in his presence. That is until he came to his diagnosis.

"Let me get this straight. I'm basically an infant, I’m ectoplasmicly malnourished, and I will eventually have powers?"

"Essentially, yes."

Danny snickered from a distance.

Jason really missed being a regular old zombie.

"What if I told you that I do not believe you?"

Frostbite mirthfully chuckled.

"If that were true I would ask you why you survived drinking ectoplasm."

Jason conceded.

"Ya got me there."

"That I do!"

Frostbite then addressed Danny

"Great One, I must admit this is not the safest place for either of you to heal and grow respectively. It has come to my attention that your parents are accepting payment in order for a certain Organization to have access to the portal."

Danny quietly processed the information, looking far too profoundly tired than any child should.

"How can I help?"

Frostbite carried two large tanks into the center of the room.

"Rest, heal and allow yourself to delegate tasks amongst your subjects."

Frostbite then knelt down to Danny's level and placed a large paw on his shoulder.

"We will be fine here Danny."

He then got up and lifted the two tanks.

"You both need to have a good supply of ectoplasm where you are staying. I think one of these will be enough for both you to reach a point where your cores are properly formed or reformed."

Frostbite carried the two tanks to out to the second most interesting individual Jason has met today.

"Wulf!"

Danny apparently knew this werewolf enough to greet him happily.

"Wulf, if you would be so inclined, can you open a portal to the dimension this young man is from?"

This Wulf as Jason has now gleaned sniffed him aggressively then nodded.

This is totally normal and fine.

Wulf then used his claws and ripped a portal out of thin air into the batcave.

Great.

Danny traipsed through the portal as if it was a door. Jason decided to help Frostbite push the tanks through the portal to feel some semblance of knowing what is happening.

Frostbite left them with well wishes as the portal closed.

Jason tried his best to wipe the bewildered look off his face when he realized the batcave was currently occupied.

Bruce had apparently started an entire search party with the rest of his family.

Tim had his detective wall of documents all pinned up.

Damian was arguing about the placement of the string.

Dick was pacing a few yards away from the wall.

Bruce was about to get carpal tunnel with the speed at which he was typing, his monitor was split between a database and a call with Constantine.

That is until the scraping of large metal tanks stopped them all in their tracks.

Jason waved.

"Hey"

He was immediately tackled by his older brother and squeezed into a hug.

"You can't scare us like that Jace!"

Bruce hung up on Constantine and walked towards him.

"Sorry I spooked you I didn’t really have time to leave a note-"

Interrupted, Jason and Dick by proxy was swept into a hug by Bruce.

Bruce let go.

"Let me know before you travel extra dimensionally."

He then left.

Dick had yet to let go, continuing his fretting.

"You just disappeared! None of use could find you! Never ever do that to me again. I swear you’re going to make me go bald with stress! Do you want me to look like Lex?"

Jason managed to get out of the vice grip Dick had on him.

"I'm sorry, okay? I go to the ghost doctor once and everyone thinks I've been kidnaped!"

Tim piped up

"To be fair it did look a lot like you got kidnaped by an inter dimensional map"

Dick managed to look even more worried.

"What do you mean a ghost doctor!?"

Jason shrugged.

"Exactly what I said. Found out I'm a baby ghost."

"A baby half ghost! Wellcome to the club, you are one of very few halfas in existence."

Jason took that information in

"What he said."

@shinyladykingdom @kyrianclawraith @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff @darkhinauniverse @krzys2000 @coruscateselene @kjoboo91 @vythika96 @hydralusus @addie-lover-of-stories @skulld3mort-1fan

Also I don't want to flood people's notifs with my silly little fanfic so if you want me to continue to tag you let me know! Also sometimes I can't find the blog people ask me to tag them with so if you asked to be tagged and weren’t it wasn’t on purpose!

#At the Core fic #dp x dc #dcxdp #poor Bruce really was worried

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