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#and i still have a very real desire to learn them
itsabouttimex2 · 2 days
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I have seen many yandere parental figure so how about yandere offspring? Like Yandere mk/nezha/redson/mei to his parental figure? How would their parental figure to their child "strange" behavior?
Yandere Children:
Red Son and Ne Zha
(This is the first time I’ve written romantic yandere for Y/N. Not too surprised that it was for Bull King and Iron Fan.)
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I like to think of this particular Y/N as a demon born of ice, someone who owes a serious debt to Princess Iron Fan.
When she finally calls it in, you head immediately to her fortified residence, seeing the former celestial standing outside with her husband, a small bundle in his arms.
You expect the worst, and prepare accordingly. The favor you owe is great- no task is beyond her asking. Your blessing, or a fragment of your power. Your service as a guard or war companion. Your compliance in a murderous scheme. But Princess Iron Fan does not wish for any of that.
Instead, she wants a babysitter.
“We were hoping… that you might be a suitable caretaker for our son. It could be that your natural affinity for ice will help to neutralize Red Son’s wielding of the Samahdi Fire.”
So the little boiling bundle is pushed into your icy arms, steam hissing and filling the air on contact.
His temperature lowers as yours rises, the little baby cooing and laughing at the humid mist swirling around you.
“…I didn’t know you had a son,” you say, poking the plumpness of his little scarred cheek. “And what a big and healthy thing he is, too.”
“A worthy heir to my throne!” The Demon Bull King proudly announces, watching closely as you handle his cherished son. Gently, you press a kiss to his bindi. Pulling away slowly, your lips leave a glittering ice-blue mark upon it, reading simply: 凛.
This is the life you settle into, a mostly peaceful passing of days spent playing with the growing boy and helping to tame his deadly flames.
Any time they grow out of control (and it happens frequently) you quickly reapply your blessing to his forehead, chilling his internal temperature and forcing his body to redirect the fire to heat himself up.
His parents watch on in awe, seeing you so easily and calmly reign in something so deadly and uncontrollable. You quickly become more than a temporary babysitter, given a lavish room furnished with every luxury that a demon could desire.
(Let’s be honest, there’s some real poly energy with you’ve got going on with PIF and DBK. ‘Live-in babysitter’, my ass.)
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As the three of you grow closer, so swells your bond with Red Son, serving as primary caretaker and educator. He’s a prodigal learner, taking quickly to magic especially. You learn that the boy has a knack for putting things together, spot-welding any pieces of metal he can find. These little jagged creations are often gifted to you, and you have a shelf entirely dedicated to displaying them. Often will he reject his own bed to sleep beside you, finding comfort in the coldness of your skin.
But, in spite of all sweetness…
Red Son is still a demon, things that are horribly powerful and often violent or deceitful, if not outright murderous.
And he grows to see Y/N as being something that belongs to the Demon Bull Clan. And sure, with the nearly unpayable debt you owe to Iron Fan and your budding relationship with his parents, he’s not exactly wrong.
A caretaker, a maid, a teacher, a mentor, a friend. These are all things you have become in grateful service to this powerful family. And eventually, all those things bleed to what they really what:
A spouse and a parent.
It’s hard to tell exactly when the shift in their perspective occurs, because their obsession is a slow, drudging creep. But the shift in their actions once they realize their obsession is instead blindingly quick.
One day you’re sitting down with Red to teach him calligraphy, gently and reassuringly fixing his brushstroke and complimenting every line he gets right, all while he demands to sit in your lap.
Then night falls and it is made very clear to you what your new role in the family in, complete with a shift in sleeping area and clothing.
You’re pressed flush between Iron Fan and Bull King as they slumber, dressed in a red silk gown and bearing purple-jeweled rings across many of your fingers. Red Son sleeps on your chest, his grip immovably tight.
And this is the new life you must grow accustomed to, either to repay your debt or perhaps… because you have come to like it.
Loved isn’t the worst thing to be, after all.
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(Personal headcanon: befitting his status as the Third Lotus Prince, most offerings given to Ne Zha consist of foods containing lotus seeds, lotus root, and lotus paste. At this point, he’s grown somewhat sick of the sweet taste. He actually prefers meat and vegetables.)
“Ne Zha,” you call, exploring the halls of his palace. “Little one, it’s time for dinner!”
All that meets your words is the clanging of metal and the tearing of leather. He’s training again, as always.
You push aside a silk curtain embroidered with many lotuses, revealing a well-stocked armory lined with dozen of training dummies.
And in the middle is a very worn-out Ne Zha, the little prince dripping with sweat.
“Little one,” you say, causing the boy’s sash to stand to attention, startled upwards like the tail of a cat. “What did I say about training so late?”
“I, um… I’m not supposed to train… so I won’t want to sleep in late to, um, make up for lost energy.”
“That’s right, sweetpea. Come on, let’s get something in your stomach. And then you’ll need a bath.”
“I already took a bath today,” he huffs, slotting his dual-tipped spear face-down into a holding pot. “I don’t need another.”
Timed to the click of your tongue, you swipe a finger across the young boy’s forehead, dragging a line in the built-up sweat. “I think you do, Ne Zha.”
“…hmph,” he pouts, his little cheeks puffing out. Though the prince is much too polite to outright refuse or go so far as to throw a tantrum, he still shows his displeasure in a quiet and mild way.
It’s one of the things you cherish most about him. Ne Zha is well behaved and rather mature, to the point where you have to encourage him to play and take breaks. It feels a little unfair, really, that someone so young has been saddled with so much responsibility.
You ply the Third Lotus Prince with plushies and paints, allowing him to explore avenues of creativity and make-believe. It’s nourishing for both his mind and body, a period of well-earned rest to slowly recuperate from the constant training he’s so insist on enduring.
In turn, he’s viciously protective of you, and often asks for your explicit attention over any other maidservant in the Celestial Realm.
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Expect him to ward off any would-be suitors by challenging them to duels. It’s a lose-lose scenario . They either somehow win and beat the hell out of a little boy, or, more likely, get the hell beaten out of them by a little boy. Either way, it’s not exactly something that endears them to you, watching grown men and women raise their blades to your protective charge.
Kissing his wounds and fixing his hair, doting on the little lotus prince as your would-be suitors seethe, wishing that they were the ones receiving your attention.
Eventually, Ne Zha will properly dress himself (that’s a lie, he needed your help) for an audience with several important deities in the Celestial Realm, he asks for your permanent placement as his personal parent maidservant.
And what reason do they have to deny such a loyal warrior?
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sysig · 24 days
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DAAAAAAAAAAAAX <3 <3 (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Helix#DAX#ZEX#Hello I have been inconsolable ever since ZEX mentioned that he wished DAX were there so he wouldn't be the only VUX#It is a hideously addictive thought - DAX being there to support his Admiral - he certainly could use it!#Talana got pulled in from Zelnick's girlfriend's ''real'' counterpart - why not Dexter!! Hghgh#It sets my brain on fire (terribly affectionate)#I love DAX sm ;; I love ZEX sm! I love their dynamic sm ;;;;#He would've been such a comfort hhh my head is full of all these horrifically self-indulgent scenes of They ♥#Firstly of them meeting up with each other!! ZEX is very tactile haha <3 He needs the physical reassurance so bad haha ;u;#Not quite like twining arms but DAX won't recoil at least <3 Hugs good!#Can you tell that second one was a spacefiller lol#ZEX very well acquainted with crying now haha - at least it's for something positive! For once :')#Ugh imagining their little differences in approach is so fjdkslafdf - same stimuli different outcomes! I love them hgh#I like to imagine DAX just observing the showers with a distant annoyance-interest like ''What the heck is that'' lol#Very dissimilar from ZEX's Intense interest but not actually picking up any skills from the experience lol#But really it's just my secret desire for DAX to learn how to wash hair so he can corral his Admiral into taking care of his body haha#Two VUX would have a very different kind of scaffolding of learning how to get along! They'd both benefit from whatever one finds out!#Might keep ZEX just a teensy bit more on track of finding things out to report back and help DAX out hehe <3 Maybe possibly lol#Still wouldn't stop him from hitting on DAX hehehehe ♪ What's this? Someone he likes and trusts in a human form? Hmm :)#Hhhh they ;; Recreating the scene of Max coming onto Dex and then Dexter turning it around on him - not that they'd know#I'm fine this is fine I'm not crying or anything ;;;; Parallels are my favourites I can't stand this <3 <3#There's just so much to think about! And it's all so much to me!! ♥
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year
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#srry for the continued pause in scribbles ive been feeling not very good at all#idk something just broke in my brain after our last sampling trip idk y bc it wasnt that bad but when i got back#it was just a couple days of my brain being real crazy in terms of thought patterns. it still kinda continues to b like that#but idk i haven't had a session of hysterical crying today so maybe im on the mend. its weird i haven't felt this bad in a really long time#i dont even have the energy to complain about it its just no joy. burned streight thru that. bruned streight thru my desire to draw#i mean i still draw every day but its like shitty i dont have time scribbes bc idk it all feels so fucking pointless. and im terrible at#hiding how i feel abt things so my boss is like: maybe u should take a break this weekend i dont want u to burnout. like. lady we crossed#that bridge way back in March. u r speaking to a ghost. i just. i dont kno if i can stay here until like next july at least if not longer#and it sucks bc i kno someday ill look back and this time in my life will make me real sad bc im laying here choosing to make myself#miserable and i somwhere halfway across the country my mum has tumors growing in her abdomen. and i cant go home for Thanksgiving and idk#how long ill get at Christmas. not bc anyone is telling me i have to stay. my brain just wont let me do things. i just lay here in my#increasingly chaotic apartment not taking the steps to get refunded for travel expenses worrying over deadlines and agonizing over social#interactions. worrying about all the things my brain wont let me do that need to be done and not taking the steps to get better#its stupid and annoying and i know its only going to get worse when i have to start taking measurements in the lab#ive at least been practicing a lot of german tho lmao. someday ill look back like: lol remember when u got super depressed and filled the#void with learning german? literally today my dyslexic read the word albeit as aber and it was v disorienting#idk its just fun and i feel like im at least being productive. so yea idk when ill b able to post scribbles again#but i thought id at least post something while i had the energy i accumulated by taking with a happy Canadian lab group#maybe ill join them in a year idk idk decisions decisions and so many applications the cost of which is trying to dissuade me from#getting a tatt0o :-P ay ay ay live a little! pls i beg u. but no prob not. against the rules#unrelated
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ambrosiagourmet · 3 months
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I want to talk about why I think this is the one of the most important Falin panels:
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So, Falin is really nice, right? It's one of the first things we really learn about her. She's kind even to the monsters of the dungeon - choosing to ward the party rather than fight spirits and cause them needless harm.
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In the above early flashback in chapter 11, we see Marcille fawning over Falin's kindness, calling her an angel. Namari calls her soft-hearted. We see Falin choose not to fight even when a zombie attacks - instead she resolves the confrontation with a hug. After the flashback, the first thing Senshi says is that Falin "sounds like quite the person," which Marcille strongly affirms.
At this point in the story, all we have seen of Falin are these impressions; she is a healer, an angel, a caretaker with an infinite well of kindness towards everyone she meets - both friend and foe.
And honestly, that remains most of what we have to go by to understand her. The only times we get to see Falin on the page, alive and just herself, are in the opening and closing pages of the story and in the brief period of time after she is resurrected.
Nonetheless, we do have some more details to work with. For one, there is the scene that The Panel is from - a short memory in chapter 75, when Marcille flashes back to while she's dying. In that scene, Falin prepares to teleport them all out, and says that she's sorry "if there is a person at [their] destination." And that's when we get The Panel.
If you teleport someone or something into another person, the person teleported into is likely to be, at minimum, severely injured. They could die.
We can see a lovely little horrifying example of exactly why in one of the Daydream Hour doodles:
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So, hmm. That's not... that's not SUPER nice. Certainly not displaying the same "kindness to all, friend and foe included" we saw represented earlier. On a basic level, this adds some nuance to Falin's kindness. We see it break a little, when pushed to the limit. We see her chose to protect the people she loves above all else.
Which makes sense! As Laios says when the Winged Lion accuses him of similarly being motivated more by his friends' safety than everyone else in the dungeon, "...most people, aside from virtuous do-gooders, would feel the same way."
So, we can take The Panel as simply showing a moment of weakness for Falin. A time when she was pushed to her limits, and that "most people" selfish side of her shone through.
However... I think there's a little more going on with Falin than just her being an angel 99% of the time, except just that once. I love The Panel because I think it helps us understand that Falin isn't just motivated by kindness - she also has a desire to avoid seeing people in pain.
Isn't that the same thing?
No, no it very much is not.
Let's look at a short comic from the Falin section of the Adventurer's Bible, because I think it illustrates this point perfectly. The group is complaining about how much Marcille's healing hurts, and comparing it to Falin's, which "doesn't hurt a bit." Marcille retorts with the following:
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Now, the punchline of this comic is that, despite Marcille's sentimental assertion that she's "thinking of [them]" by letting her healing magic hurt, they all still prefer to be healed by Falin.
But hey, this wouldn't be the first time that Dungeon Meshi hides a very real character beat or insight in a gag, so let's think about this somewhat seriously.
If Marcille is right (and she knows a fair bit about magic, so we can assume that she has at least somewhat of a point), then what Falin is doing isn't kind. I suppose if someone specifically requested to not feel the pain, it could be kind, but that's not really what happened here. She is the one who felt badly about the others being in pain, and she is the one who decided, without telling them or giving them a choice in the matter, to take away that pain.
Both Marcille and Falin are healing the party, but Marcille is doing it in a way that accomplishes the task in the most straight forward way, without any additional interference. Falin is going out of her way to perform the healing in a way she is more comfortable with. A way that avoids pain.
Going back the The Panel, I don't think its a coincidence that the only time we see Falin (well, non-chimera Falin) willing to do something that could hurt someone is when any potential pain will be far away from her. If she got someone hurt or killed by teleporting the party to the surface? Not only would it be far out of her sight, but she'd be dead before she had to deal with any consequences of that action.
Falin is not a confrontational person. She doesn't push when Marcille won't tell her the truth about the resurrection, and she comforts Laios about her own death - both of those things happening in the only full chapter she is alive and conscious in the whole story.
We also know that she considered accepting Shuro's proposal, despite not having any special feelings towards him, and that Falin never explained to Marcille that she wanted them to share a meal together. When she brought Marcille various foods at the academy, she just accepted Marcille's confused rejection and gave up.
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And lastly, we know that she is still in contact with her parents, despite the neglect and abuse she suffered at their hands. Although the way someone chooses to handle contact with abusive or bad family is a complicated topic, which I don't want to overly simplify, I do I think this fact gets at the heart of how she handles conflict.
So many people that Falin loves have hurt her. There are understandable hurts, like Laios leaving the village, or Marcille not understanding the food. And there are bigger, far less justifiable hurts - like her parents neglecting her throughout her childhood, and sending her away to be alone at the magic academy.
It doesn't seem like Falin has ever confronted any of it directly.
And the unhealthy aspects of this kind of avoidance of pain and confrontation is one of the things that the story of Dungeon Meshi is all about. We see Laios grapple with it before he goes to kill Falin, and we see Marcille acknowledge it at the end of the story, when she tells Laios that she has come to terms with Falin's death:
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Eating is a part of life. Consuming other living things is a part of life. It isn't really possible to avoid that pain - you can only hide from the truth of it. You have to be selfish everyday. You have to eat - to choose to live. To choose to take up space.
And this is something Falin embraces, too. She comes back to life, after all.
We see her choose to come back to life.
And how does she make that choice? She eats. She consumes, and then she is asked a question by the manifestation of hunger itself:
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Do you want to eat more?
There is a double meaning in the Winged Lion's final words on the next page.
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When I first read this, I took it as him saying: life is cruel. You will suffer. You will feel more pain.
But perhaps, especially for Falin, this also means: you are choosing a path where you must cause pain. Where you must consume. Where you must take, and must be selfish. Because eating is the special privilege of the living, and it is their burden, too. In order to stay alive, she will need to keep eating.
And she chooses that. Chooses to be selfish. It's why her resurrection scene is so important, and it's why The Panel is so important. Because Falin coming back isn't the ultimate reward for all of the party's hard work.
It's her choice. Just like it was her choice that started everything in the first place. But this time, she doesn't choose to accept causing pain for the sake of Marcille and Laios. She does it for her own sake.
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joelscurls · 6 months
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I wanna show you off
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pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
words: 4.1k
summary: The women who live in your building aren't subtle in their hatred for you — or their affection for your boyfriend, Joel. You decide to set them straight.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, porn with plot, no outbreak, established relationship, implied age gap, horrible neighbors, general cattiness, all the ladies want Joel, alcohol consumption, fluff, explicit smut, possessive!reader, exhibitionism, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), facefucking, unprotected piv, creampie, one (1) spank, use of pet names (baby, angel, darlin', etc.), I think that's all? lmk if I missed anything!
a/n: idk what happened. I saw one too many tiktok edits set to the song agora hills by doja cat and blacked out. anyway, enjoy!
If it weren’t for your rent-controlled apartment with a perfect view of the downtown skyline, you would’ve moved out of your building by now.
Your neighbors don’t like you. You’re certain of it. You can tell by the way the ladies stick their noses up at you in the elevator and whisper to each other the second they think you’re out of earshot.
It had started, you suspect, because of your age. You’re a lot younger than all of the other residents here, your apartment left to you by your grandmother after she passed away.
The building is prime real estate, situated in the heart of one of the city’s most desirable neighborhoods. Most of the people who live here have done so for ten, twenty, even thirty years. And it seems that time has festered a sort of social hierarchy: one which places you at the very bottom.
You shouldn’t care. And you hadn’t, for a while. But their eyes have started to feel like daggers, pointed directly at you at all times, and you feel as if you can’t even enter the building without judgment.
You’re not a bad neighbor. You’re not. You’d learned through living in a dormitory in college how thin shared walls can be, and, as a result, the proper volume at which to keep your music; how you should always be cautious to not let your door slam closed on the way in; that you should never vacuum after eight pm or before eight am.
You never leave trash in the hallway, and you park your car only in your allotted spot, despite the fact that it’s the farthest away from the building.
Even so, the lack of weathering in your face makes them look at you like you’re less, like you’re a greedy little thing who has taken something she isn’t worthy of.
It’s the same way they look at you when they see you with your boyfriend, Joel, for the first time.
They leer when you walk into the foyer, hand-in-hand with an older man. He’s handsome, rugged, something out of Nicholas Sparks novel. And you’re you.
Joel thinks you’re being paranoid at first, says they couldn’t possibly hate such a sweet, friendly girl. The girl he loves so damn much. But it doesn’t take long for him to notice it too: the glares, the scoffs, the misplaced judgment — never set in his direction, only ever yours.
One Sunday afternoon, as he sits on your couch watching the Cowboys game with a sweating bottle of beer in his hand, you step out to grab your mail. You’re close to tears when you return, flinging the door open, envelopes slipping from your trembling fingers. 
He leaps up as soon as he catches sight of your face. Your expression is stuck somewhere between sadness and rage, bottom lip tucked between your teeth so firmly he worries you’ll draw blood.
“I hate them,” you sob as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. You’re wetting his shirt, the one he just bought the other day. But he won’t let you lift your head. If anything, he holds you tighter.
“Wanna tell me what happened, darlin?” he asks, leading you toward the couch. You sit down together, your body still wrapped in his, and you groan.
“It’s stupid.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. He loosens his grip on you only enough to let you turn your face. “I was getting my mail, and they were down in the lobby,” you sniff. “The woman who lives right next door – the one with the outdated perm, and the one across the hall with the yippy little dog.”
“Mhm,” Joel soothes, running his thumb gently along the tense line of your jaw. “Did they say somethin’ to you?”
You huff. “No, not to me. They didn’t see me there.”
Their hushed voices still ring in your head like a fire alarm in need of new batteries: relentless, infuriating.
Don’t know what in the world a handsome gentleman like that is doing with a little girl like her. You’re tellin’ me. What a shame. Such a young thing – she can’t possibly know how to handle a man like that. He needs a woman his own age!
“They said I’m not good for you,” you weep. “That I’m too young. That I — I c-can’t be what you need.”
“Darlin,” Joel drawls. He fishes the tv remote off of the coffee table and flicks the screen off. Drops it somewhere next to him on the cushion. The apartment is noticeably quiet now, apart from your shaky breaths and the dull drone of an idling truck engine from the street below.
“You know I love you, right?” 
You sniff again. Nod. 
“I don’t give a shit if people think you’re too young for me,” he huffs. “You’re a grown woman. You give me everything I could possibly need and then some.”
“Yeah?” you squeak. You know deep down that Joel wouldn’t stay with you if he had any reservations about any aspect of your relationship. But after months of no reprieve from stinging glares and brash insults, you feel as if you’ve been broken down, reduced to an anxious, overwrought version of yourself. 
Joel repositions himself, sprawling back on the couch and pulling you with him so that you’re laying against him. “Yeah,” he repeats, stroking your hair. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, away from your glassy eyes. “Those ladies can get their asses in line.” 
You laugh, then — a real, genuine laugh — the kind that Joel can somehow always pull out of you, even in the most inopportune of times.
You’re so grateful for him, for his innate ability to calm you down when it feels like the world is crumbling below your feet. Grateful that he’s yours.
You lift your head. Prop yourself up by the elbow on Joel’s thigh. Wipe away the lingering wet on your cheeks with a deep, settling breath. 
“Does it stroke your ego, having a fan club of women who wanna fuck you?”
He smirks. Pulls you closer to him with a hand cradling your face. 
“Maybe a little,” he whispers, his lips ghosting yours. “Does it stroke your ego, bein’ the only one who gets to fuck me?” 
And in truth, it does. You’re the only one who knows where he likes to be kissed, how he likes his cock stroked, how to make him cum embarrassingly quick with just your mouth.
You’ve learned him intimately, every inch of him.  Ruined him for any other woman.
So in a fucked up kind of way — it does.
“Yeah,” you admit. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, silently reveling in the way he immediately moans, the way he bends to you.
“These all mine?” You bring a finger to his lips, sputter on a shaky exhale when he unexpectedly parts them and sucks the digit into his mouth.
“Mhm,” he hums around you, takes your free hand in his and guides it down his body, across the expanse of his torso, the plush of his belly, pausing when you reach his crotch. 
Your pulse quickens, then, a dull throb forming at the base of your neck. You extricate your finger from his mouth with a gentle pop.
“This too,” he whispers, canting his hips up toward the flat of your palm.
He’s half-hard, his clothed bulge pleading for attention. But he pulls your hand away quickly, not letting himself get carried away at the feeling of your fingers grazing him through denim. 
Instead, he re-situates it against his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat where it hammers under skin, against flesh and bone. “This is all yours too,” he says, voice so low it reverberates in your skull. 
“All of it — all of me. Don’t gotta worry your pretty little head with anythin’ anyone else has to say about the matter. Got it?”
His words are spoken with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe them, to let them stick in your brain like anchors in sand: deep and immovable.
Yours, yours, yours. 
And nobody else’s.
“Yeah,” you smile into the column of his neck, inhaling his scent: mostly him, but with notes of you. 
“Got it.”
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It’s two weeks later when she makes a move on him: the woman with the perm. Joel is taken aback by her boldness, with you just a few feet away, digging your key into the lock of your mailbox. 
“You must work with your hands,” she purrs, grabbing one of his wrists and examining his calloused fingers with such little integrity, his mouth actually slips open at the unabashedness of it all. 
“Uh-”
“I’m Sheila,” she hums, raking her fingers through tight, blonde curls. “And you are?”
“Joel,” he grunts noncommittally. Wrenches his arm back. He doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows twitch in offense. 
But she’s insatiable, this woman. She bounces back like a rubber band, not-so-subtly pushing her breasts together, the zip of her sweatshirt slipping down an inch and her mouth curving into a salacious grin.
You just about stop dead in your tracks when you round the corner to the lobby, junk mail in hand, and see her, her body turned towards Joel’s, chest pushed out and hip popped. She has a bedazzled tote bag full of groceries slung over her shoulder, a head of leafy greens poking out the top.
“Hi neighbor!” she smiles mockingly at you, all lipstick-stained teeth, when you sidle up to Joel. “I was just telling your friend here what nice, strong arms he has.” She’s not looking at you, eyes locked firmly on Joel’s biceps, nearly drooling at the sight of him. 
Heat spools behind your ears, red-hot.
“Not her friend,” Joel corrects before you can. “‘M her boyfriend.”
“Oh,” she says. “Boyfriend.” Her lips wrap loosely around the word, like it’s some fanciful thing. “You’re too old to be someone’s boyfriend.” 
Joel takes a step away from her, closer to you, and splays a steadying hand across your back. “Man-friend, then.” 
You laugh, not because it’s funny, but because this entire conversation is fucking awkward. 
Sheila pays you no attention.
“Well,” she sighs, overtly staring at the exposed skin of Joel’s chest, where the top two buttons of his flannel are undone, “Joel, if you’re ever lookin’ for a good meal, I’m just next door.” She flits her eyes up to his and smirks. “Know a big man like you has gotta eat.”
Your vision blurs scarlet. 
Joel is equally as infuriated. The disrespect of this woman, to so openly flirt with him in front of you. His fists ball tightly at his sides. 
“Thanks, but no thanks,” he gruffs. “Anyway, nice to meet ya ma’am-“
“Sheila,” she reminds him. 
“Sheila,” he repeats, only to appease her. He turns to you, squeezing your waist affectionately. “We should probably get goin’, right sweetheart?”
You’re still fuming, barely able to register Joel’s voice next to you through the thick haze of pure fury clouding your mind, but you manage to nod, spit out a hurried yeah.
And with that, Joel is turning on his heels, pulling you with him toward the elevators. You don’t dare look back at her, but you can feel her eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. 
Her footfall fades into the mailroom and you breathe a minuscule sigh of relief. At least she’s out of your sight.
“Please just move in with me,” Joel begs when you’re finally behind closed metal doors, the inspection plaque situated above the buttons suddenly extremely interesting as you try to focus on not thinking about setting this woman’s apartment on fire.
You’ve talked about living together a few times. It’s just — you’ve never considered it so seriously until right now. 
“I can’t let them win,” you mutter, agitated. 
You hate how they’ve made you feel, like you’re some helpless animal tucked in the corner, hiding from them. Just waiting for the next ambush. 
With the passing of each floor, your anger simmers, bubbles into a silent rage in your stomach, one which threatens to boil over at the next underestimation of Joel’s devotion to you. You need to make it known, once and for all, that he’s yours. 
Words from your grandmother play on a loop in your head, ones she repeated to you often when you were a child: if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. 
And then you have a thought — a devious thought — maybe you don’t have to say anything to get your point across. Not to them, anyway.
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Your mouth is on Joel the second you’re back inside the four walls of your own apartment, slotting against his pulse point and sucking a desperate bruise there.
He’s not expecting it — why would he be? You’ve just been seething the entire elevator ride up to your floor, the entire walk down the long, winding hallway to your unit. He’d practically been able to see the steam billowing from your ears. 
So the switch-up is more than a bit dizzying, to say the least.
“Whoa, darlin’,” he pants, his large hands draping over your shoulders. “What are you-”
“Joel.” Your voice is stern; it demands his attention. “Do you trust me?” 
Your hand trails down his body languidly, in a straight line to the waistband of his jeans. And fuck, of course he trusts you — more than anyone. But this is wrong, fucked up, for you to make him feel good when you’ve been made to feel so small these past few minutes. 
Still, his cock doesn’t get the memo, twitching in his jeans as you place another open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, your fingers beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle. 
You give him no choice with the way you’re touching him, the way you’re looking at him when you pull back, all pleading eyes and parted mouth, but to resign all protest. He’ll give you the world, and if right now you want to use his body to blow off some steam, who is he to complain about it?
“Yeah baby, of course,” he breathes. “What do you need?”
You smirk at him audaciously, tongue smoothing over your teeth. “Need you to be loud,” you purr. Your voice is so innocent in juxtaposition to the words you spew. It sends a chill down the column of his spine. “Let them know who makes you feel good.” 
He nearly cums in his pants untouched, grasps at the fabric of your shirt with clumsy hands and nods. “Fuck, okay.”
His belt falls to the floor with a clang.
He lets you take control, then. Lets you mark him with your tongue and your teeth, lets you back him to the door with deft fingers working his shirt buttons open before sinking to your knees in front of him, freeing his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers.
It’s already weeping for you when you pull it out, precum beading at the tip. He’s so big, growing heavier in your hand with each passing second, and you lose yourself for a moment, hypnotized by him.
“Always so eager to please me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” Joel’s voice pulls you back to earth, soft and adoring.
“Louder,” you remind him. Plant a kiss right over top of his leaking slit.
“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. One of his hands flies to the crown of your head, anchoring himself with fingers in your hair. “Dirty fucking girl.” 
His voice fills the entranceway, confident and filthy. 
“Mmm,” you hum approvingly.
“Yeah? You want me to tell ‘em? Tell ‘em you’re making my cock drool for you? That nobody — shit-” You enclose your lips around his tip, suckling on it as your fingers wrap around the base of his length and you begin to stroke him lazily. “-that nobody has ever made me feel this good?” 
Footsteps echo down the hallway and the sound makes you reflexively pause, your hand stiling on Joel’s cock. It’s followed by the jingling of metal, the click of a key in a lock, the opening and closing of a door — all close enough that you can pinpoint the source, can tell where exactly it’s coming from. 
Sheila is home. 
Perfect.
It’s probably worrying how excited it makes you, the prospect of her hearing, of her sitting alone in her apartment, at her empty dining table, and listening to Joel fall apart at your hands. Maybe they’ve driven you to and over the edge of sanity with their words, her most of all. Regardless, you can’t help the way it makes your cunt flutter around nothing. 
You lick a slow stripe up the underside of Joel’s cock, starting just above his balls and dragging the flat of your tongue up, up, up to his tip. His breath shudders, his grip on your hair tightening, and the subtle sting at the center of your scalp gives you another idea. 
“Do you wanna fuck my face, Joel?” 
“Do I wanna — fuck — you’re gonna kill me, angel.” 
“Go ahead,” you encourage, unhinging your jaw as wide as it can go, letting your tongue droop over your bottom lip. 
Saliva pools in your waiting mouth and Joel groans at the sight of you, so malleable for him, begging to be used. 
“You sure?” 
It’s not that he doesn’t think you can handle it. He knows you can. You’ve taken him down your throat more times than he can count. Always so fucking eager to please him, you are — just one of the many reasons he feels so goddamn lucky, so infuriated that anyone would think otherwise. 
But still, he can’t help but worry that he’ll hurt you. 
You nod, eyes locked on him, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that you want this. He nods back, beginning to feed his cock into your mouth, easing it in slowly and halting when his head hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag.
You don’t pull away, don’t show any indication of displeasure. In fact, you dig your fingers into the meat of his thighs, bearing down on him as you push forward. Mascara tears stain your cheeks as you choke on him, laser-focused on relaxing your throat so that you can accommodate more of his length. 
Joel pulls back, retreating entirely before pushing in again. He slowly increases his pace, your eyes hooded, so doelike and innocent, as his cockhead bruises your larynx. 
The sounds he’s pulling from your mouth are absurdly lewd: muffled gags and frantic inhales of breath. And then there’s him, moaning wildly, not sure if he’d be able to shut up even if he needed to be quiet. Your mouth is good, too fucking good and he’s going to — fuck, he’s going to cum if you don’t stop. 
He pulls out abruptly, a string of drool and precum tethering the tip of his cock to your swollen bottom lip. You’re panting, coughing, still bracing yourself against his legs when you fucking smile up at him. 
“Christ,” he says. “Fuckin’ angel, you are. Mouth feels like goddamn heaven.” 
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. But I need to cum in that perfect little cunt,” he breathes, pulling a strangled moan from the back of your rawed throat. 
He helps you up, spins you around to face the door. You brace both hands on the wood, humming as he pulls your pants down to your knees. His breath is on the back of your neck, trailing up to the shell of your ear with one whisper just for you, because he can’t help it. 
“So fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” 
You shiver, responding with a tilt of your head, inviting him in with a needy little mewl. He cradles your face in one of his large hands, the other rubbing over the curve of your ass as he kisses you passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.
The hand on your ass trails lower as he deepens the kiss, two fingers pressing against your clothed seam. You’ve all but soaked through the fabric, wet cotton molding to his knuckles as he caresses them along your pussy before pulling your panties down in one swift motion.
You whine into the kiss, desperate and dripping for him. “Please,” you breathe against his lips. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”
“Know you will,” he coos, mouth parting from yours as he straightens out and lines himself up with your entrance. You arch your back, rocking onto the balls of your feet as he teases you with the tip.
His cock is so thick when it finally notches into you. It’s always so devastatingly thick, no matter how wet you are for him. The stretch stings, a jolt of warm pain coursing through your walls as he stills halfway in. 
“You okay?” he asks, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other on your hip, fingers gripping to you only tight enough to hold you in place.
“Yes, fuck — yes,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me, Joel.”
“I’m goin’ to baby, don’t worry,” 'he promises, pushing in another splitting inch. “Pussy’s so goddamn tight, ‘ts suckin’ me right in.”
It feels like hours pass with Joel’s cock motionless inside your aching cunt, his warm breath fanning across your back as he focuses on not cumming. You’re whimpering, begging under the weight of his body, to please just fucking move.
When he finally obliges you, pulling all the way out and then bottoming out in one deep thrust, it nearly punches the air out of your chest. You scrabble for purchase on the door, fingernails scraping against chipped paint. “F-uucckk,” you moan, eyes rolling back in your head as he sets a dizzying pace.
The sound of his balls slapping against the back of your thighs is enough to attract attention on its own, the loud smacksmacksmack going straight to your cunt. Joel growls behind you, driving into you even harder, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot. 
“Oh, shit,” you cry. Your pussy inadvertently squeezes him and he curses at your back, low and deep. 
“Not going to last if you keep doin’ that,” he warns. “Cunt is too fuckin’ good. Best I’ve ever — uuuhh — had.”
He’s not just saying it for show. It’s true. You know it is, too. He’s told you before, both under the influence of your pussy and not. Waited too many goddamn years to feel like this, he’d said once.
“It’s — fuck, it’s fine Joel,” you mutter. “I’m close too, just keep going, right there.”
A door across the hall creaks open. A pair of footsteps patter across tile. 
Do you hear that?  Yeah; what is that noise?
Joel laughs darkly behind you, snaps his hips up, forcing a guttural moan out of you. 
“Think they caught us, darlin’,” he says. “Caught you takin’ my cock like you’re fuckin’ made to.”
Oh my word!
Joel is unrelenting, pounding into you despite the voices right outside your apartment, and you fear for a moment that you’ve created a monster. One of his hands leaves its place on your waist, cracks down on the center of your asscheek with a slap, the flesh recoiling under his palm and you gasp. 
The feeling travels between your legs, straight to your neglected clit. It pulsates under the hood with every pass of Joel’s cock over your g-spot, and you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge dangerously fast. 
If these people don’t leave, they’re going to hear you cum. Do you want them to hear you cum? Yeah, you think, clit jumping again at the thought, I think I fucking do.
“Joel, fuck-”
“You gonna cum?” he goads. “Yeah, can feel you squeezin’ me — you’re gonna cum, aren’t ya?”
This is vulgar!  We should file a noise complaint. C’mon.
His hand snakes around your front then, finds your throbbing bud, and with a few passes of his calloused fingertips, you’re gone, vision whiting out and all noise around you muted. 
Joel keeps you upright between him and the door, his grip on you tightening as your muscles slacken. He follows closely behind, cumming inside you with a carnal noise from the back of his throat, rope after rope of his spend filling your cunt. 
He pulls out with a grunt, immediately collapsing on the floor. Without his support, you topple over too, falling onto his lap with a satiated giggle. 
A banging comes from the other side of the wall then, shaking your kitchen cabinets a few feet away, the clanging of glassware jolting you.
Keep it down next time! I don’t need to hear that!
And then you’re laughing like teenagers, Joel pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth. 
“Think they’re really gonna make a noise complaint?” Joel asks when you finally come up for air. 
“I dunno,” you smile. “Does your offer still stand — for me to move in with you?” 
“Always,” he vows, forehead resting against yours.
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end notes: ty for reading! pls consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed <3
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risestarkiss · 4 months
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Being Baby Blue
Rise Ramblings #313
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Leonardo Hamato is…an interesting individual.
As a middle child, he doesn’t have to shoulder the responsibilities of the oldest, nor is he fawned upon or babied over like the youngest. Therefore, he ends up having more of a lackadaisical approach to life.
In his free time, instead of training like Raph, Leo can normally be found reading comic books.
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And for good reason! Someone has to be up on the latest issues of Jupiter Jim and his space odysseys.
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But, other than being a Jupiter Jim superfan, who is Leonardo Hamato?
If you ask Leo, he's...*takes out a list*: “Primetime,” “First,” “The Best,” “Number One,” “The Champion,” or some other iteration of all of the above.
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...Huh. Anyways...
Of course, the first thing Leo would tell you is that he's the team's "Face Man."
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As the "Face Man," he’s the one that turns up the charm when they need to schmooze their way out of, or into, something.
He's the face of the group! It's a very important title, right?
Well, in this scene with Hueso, we learn what Leo really feels about his place on the team.
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"There's no team with just a face man." "I'm nothing without them."
Hmm. If he thinks that he is nothing without his brothers, then what's the deal with all of this "Number One" and "Champion" talk?
I believe that Leo is exhibiting a form of Reaction Formation.
Reaction Formation is a primitive defense mechanism that involves transforming one's unacceptable feelings or emotions into the opposite.
"Solicitude may be a reaction-formation against cruelty...romantic notions of chastity and purity may mask crude sexual desires, altruism may hide selfishness, and piety may conceal sinfulness."
Leo has been creating these grandiose titles and this larger-than-life persona for himself as a means to cope with his feelings of insecurity, his anxieties, and combat his self-deprecation.
Gee, forming a larger-than-life persona to counteract their suppressed feelings also reminds me of someone else we know…
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But, I digress...
Behind the fabrications, his insecurities, who he pretends to be, and who he wants to be, the real Leo is still on display, starting as early as the first episode.
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He's attentive, he understands the team's strengths and weaknesses, he assesses situations, he comes up with great plans on the fly, and he is a voice of reason.
These are all the characteristics of a great leader.
However, something happens when he’s actually appointed as such.
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There he goes again. He's cocky, arrogant, and act's as if he's unphased even by the prospect of loosing his brothers. If this is Reaction Formation, then what is he trying to mask with these behaviors?
Previously, he was masking his insecurities, his anxieties, and his self-deprecation, but with the faces he pulls when he thinks no one can see them, I want to say the newest emotion is fear.
He is terrified of being the leader and floundering under his new responsibilities. He's scared of the consequences of his actions, and what those consequences may mean for his brothers. However, instead of voicing his insecurities, or communicating with his team, he doubles down and falls back into old habits.
The "Face Man" persona is turned up to an 11, and things get worse and worse until...
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His greatest fears have been realized.
He has failed as a leader. He has failed his brothers. He has failed to stop the invasion, and they are all going to die because of his failures.
Now he's faced with the harsh reality of his own mistakes, thus he finally faces himself.
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"It's scary to be responsible for the lives you protect, your team...your family. But we do it anyway because that's what it means to be a hero."
He may be speaking to Raph, but he's talking about himself.
His words are his true feelings, the same feelings that have been holding him back this entire time. By opening up, he's able to surrender to himself and let it all go.
And it's the breakthrough we all have been waiting for.
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What Leo doesn't know is that through letting go, he's able to become the true face of the group he is destined to be.
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He's the face of hope.
○○○○
Previous | Being Big Red
Next | Being Purple ○ Part One • Being Purple ○ Part Two • Orange, Baby!
Finale | Being Hamato Yoshi
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jaxon-exe · 10 months
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Dp x dc prompt
So this starts with Danny becoming the ghost king on his 18th birthday and almost immediately every power-hungry ghost in existence starts proposing to him. At first he just ignores it but after the 10th time someone tries to kidnap him to marry him Greek god style, he’s fucking sick of it and goes to Clockwork for help.
He’s not much help. The only way for other people to stop trying to marry him is if he’s already married. What’s more, because he’s the king of the infinite realms, it has to be someone that’s considered a citizen of the Infinite Realms. (Like he can marry someone that’s still alive but they wouldn’t count and people will just keep trying to marry him) CW also warns him that people will try and kill anyone he marries if they can so a living person isn’t really ideal. The only bit of real helpfulness he does provide is a list of non-evil non-power-hungry citizens so he can have an easier time finding someone.
So Danny takes the list and starts crossing of names (like Johnny, even tho the guy won’t abuse the power of being the ghost princess, kitty would kill Danny for good this time) when he comes across the perfect candidate.
Jason Todd (Robin/Red Hood)
He’s been to Gotham before, knows the Robins all do good work and knows the Red Hood is already a good and fair ruler of his criminal underground. Plus the guy could definitely fight off any ghost trying to kill him even without the power boost and some helpful weapons Danny would give him if he agrees. Plus he has the perfect bargaining chip to get the guy to help by offering to fix the corrupted ectoplasm in him (not that he wasn’t gonna do that anyway when he had the time to but Hood didn’t need to know that)
So Danny hops over to Gotham and after quickly getting permission from Lady Gotham (she’s very protective of her Knights) heads over to crime ally and pitches the idea to Red Hood.
Which basically goes like-
Danny: so I give u, the title of prince, access to the Infinite Realms whenever u wish, a sweet private wing in my castle, any of the op ghost weapons in the castles armoury and a fix for ur rage problems and u marry me so I stop getting people trying to propose to me in increasingly more annoying ways :)
Jason, a literature geek with a secret desire to be the protagonist in a shitty YA romance: u had me at Prince
So the two of then jump over to the Infinite Realms to get married thinking it’ll take 30 minutes top only to learn that CW left out that a Royal wedding has to take at minimum a week otherwise no one will consider the Marriage valid. So the two, not backing out at this point, join in on the week of parties and celebrations without putting much more thought into it.
Meanwhile back in Gotham, after not having Red Hood check in after his patrol, Oracle searches CCTV and finds Jason having a conversation with a figure that is glitching out the camera to much to identify them, then the figure seemingly grabs Jason and drags him into a portal and the two of them disappear.
So obviously the Batfam comes to the conclusion that Jason was kidnapped by some sort of magical being and calls in John. He identify the magic as that of the ghost king’s and has been hearing that the king had been looking for a bride so comes to the conclusion that Jason has been kidnapped Persephone style to be be married and is under the (wrong) conclusion that it will mean Jason can’t leave the realm of the death after.
And so the Batfam + Constantine start planing to crash a wedding.
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danyllura · 9 months
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Something I found very interesting about the Barbie movie was the Ken’s mimicking of patriarchy. I’ve seen some comments putting it as a stance of men’s inherent desire to oppress women but would argue it much more reflects the socialization process many young boys experience that encourages them take on misogynistic views. The kens do not resent the Barbie’s. They’ve grown up in a society the Barbie’s run and the adore and love them. I think you could say that reflects the early stages of life for many boys where often the main role models they know are women, their mothers (as they often have a more involved role than fathers) and eventually their teachers, which women still make up the vast majority of early childhood educators.
The Kens also notably lack a sense of brotherhood at the start of the movie. And it isn’t until they’re in the real world our main Ken experiences positive male attention and approval (which is only due to him also being a man). It is that desire for approval from his male peers that initially drives him to believe in patriarchy.
There is of course also the underlying struggle of his unrequited feelings for Barbie, but none of the kens truly resent the Barbies. They don’t actually want them as oppressed servants. Yes they want their attention, but even during kendom we see them happiest on their cheesy guitar playing group date. They begin oppressing Barbie’s not because it’s what they actually want but rather it’s them mimicking the behaviour of men.
And that is why I think it makes such a great ode to the socialization of young boys to be misogynistic. Boys do not have an innate hatred for women, nor is it something they naturally grow into of their own fruition. But rather it’s a patterned of learned behaviours they in most cases initially mimic for the approval of other men or to gain attention, but overtime becomes a very real ideology then adopt and believe in and likely pass on.
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My brain is on fire same I can’t sleep and am thinking of this:
The way she writes about marriage/family/commitment through these different situations across the album is soooooooooo interesting.
You have a very intense first experience of it in “The Manuscript,” where it is first dangled in front of her/the narrator’s young, impressionable self as shorthand for real love in a situation that ended up being smoke and mirrors. She’s being told everything she wants to hear by someone who basically thinks it’s just foreplay. In the end, when it’s clear that the other person has no intention of actually making a life with her, it makes her feel used, but she forces herself to recalibrate and become the girl she thinks he and all the other hes want her to be. Easy breezy cool. But there’s a sense of loss in realizing those hopes were merely banter to the other.
You have the “grown up” version of it alluded to in “So Long, London” and “How Did It End?”, the years of putting in work to save a relationship and the “deflation of our dreaming leaving [her] bereft and reeling” leading to them “calling it all off.” The implication is clearly that they built a home together with plans for next steps at a point in time, but the commitment is shattered. (Obviously to me it sounds like marriage.) She’s bitter at spending her “prime” years with someone who ultimately didn’t want to be there, even if he couldn’t or wouldn’t admit it himself.
She felt like she did everything she was supposed to, but they were learning the right steps to different dances at as it were. Those dreams were at one point shared, but in the end they weren’t right for each other and she admits that, though bitterly (“I founded the club she’s heard great things about” eg the years she put in for him to help him grow up will end up benefiting his new lover, “but I’m not the one,” “you’ll find someone,” etc.). Mixed in with all this of her resentment of him wasting her youth (sacrificing herself at the altar), and his resentment of her for reasons less defined, and insinuations of betrayal in the shadows. The fantasy of the whole package disappears into the ether, yet she still has no answers as to how they got there.
Then in comes the wolf in sheep’s clothing in many of the rest of the songs, the one who promises her all those things she’s dreamed of since she was a kid instantly. After years of moulding herself to other men’s desires, someone comes in and tells her exactly what she wants to hear at the most vulnerable time of her life, as though the universe is answering her prayers, like some sort of cosmic payback for all she’s suffered, and it’s the most intoxicating drug of all. She’s gone from her wish for a family life feeling like she’s in a way being used for her body, to it being used as a chain to a relationship gone sour, to having someone put a metaphorical ring on her finger and tell her he wants to have babies with her, fuck those other guys.
In her grief and stupor, it’s too good to be true, which is exactly why she falls for it. But of course, it’s all an illusion, because this wolf is an amalgamation of the worst of all the men who came before him. He tells her everything she wants to hear not to make her dreams come true, but to make his. He takes the worst parts of these scenarios to make his move: he’ll stand by her, he’ll commit, he’ll do it out in the open under the spotlight’s glare (all things desperately lacking in her last relationship), but after he beds her he stabs her in the back in private and leaves her. He got what he wanted at the expense of her losing everything she wanted, this time as her world caved in seemingly for good. She feels like she gave up everything she thought she might have had for a chance that this is where the universe has been point her all along, only to be left broken for good (you represent the loss of my life as I knew it).
Then there are two sort of codas to this. In “But Daddy I Love Him” we get a sassier reimagining of “Love Story,” where the girl with the scarlet letter is mouthy and crass and tells everyone to go fuck themselves for cursing her in the first place, choosing her love above all else. And no, those haters can’t come to her wedding. Her daddy may have come around, but they sure can’t. Finally it seems someone is choosing her and will someday give her these things, and she’ll be able to show all the naysayers. (Also interestingly one of the more fictionally-veiled songs which ends happily vs the diaristic ones that don’t.)
Then of course there’s “So High School,” our first glimpse into what the future holds. Probably the only unabashedly happy (nay… electric?) song on the album, it’s all about reclaiming the buzz of youth (which is a whole other post) with a new lover. “Are you gonna marry, kiss or kill me? It’s just a game but really, I’m betting on all three for us two.” It’s, er, a direct nod to a certain now-infamous interview, but again, she’s staking her claim on her future, if not certain then at least hopeful again. This time the prospect doesn’t come with a “but.” It’s not, we’ll be pushing strollers but actually you’re too young. It’s not, we had these dreams for our future but actually I can’t move forward. It’s not, I’m going to promise you a ring and a baby but only until my needs are met and then I’m out. It’s, I know what I wanted and I’m not leaving, and thanks to that now she stays too.
The album dealt with the theme not at all in the way I expected, but is absolutely fascinating.
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queerfables · 8 months
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The thing is, Crowley and Aziraphale's problem isn't miscommunication. I'm not the first person to point this out but I see enough posts taking this framing at face value that I feel it's worth saying again.
If Crowley and Aziraphale sat down and talked everything out calmly and rationally without hiding anything and while validating each other's feelings, they would still end up exactly where they are. Because they fundamentally DO NOT AGREE about the problem they're facing or how to address it.
Crowley should have told Aziraphale about apocalypse take two, sure, yeah, but if he had, Aziraphale would have seen it as just another reason to go back to Heaven. He finds out about the second coming and he's horrified but just as resolved in his decision.
Flip side: Aziraphale might have had a hundred good reasons for wanting Crowley to come back with him, none of which boiled down to thinking he was worth less as a demon, but it wouldn't have mattered how eloquently he articulated them. It was always going to be a deal breaker for Crowley.
To be slightly more nuanced about it, there are some things they've been avoiding saying that they really did need to put into words, even though in my opinion they both kind of knew it, already. But the painful fact is that their fight is that in action. Sometimes communicating with someone means exposing the failure points between you (and if you suspect that's going to be the case, that's a very human reason to avoid doing it).
At best, they could maybe have parted with less collateral damage to each other. But the real tragedy of their story is that there was no other way this could have gone. For a long time, their love has been thwarted by the external forces keeping them apart, but also - Aziraphale hasn't Fallen, and Crowley has never expressed any desire to return to Heaven. And just like I think they must have had at least some understanding of the depth of their feelings for each other, I think they must have understood the implications of that too. They're on opposite sides, and even with the danger, it's all very exciting and romantic - until they have to face the fact that the convictions they've held for millennia put them on opposite sides.
So if they're going to move forward together, they can't just talk about it. Crowley's right, actually, they've been talking since before the beginning of time. It isn't enough to understand each other. Together, they're going to have to change. That tentative middle ground between them is going to have to become a place they set down roots, and learn to choose and trust in even when everything else is falling apart.
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billyloomiswhore4 · 1 year
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Dark Habits | Billy and Stu x Reader
Warnings: petnames, (babe by stu, and baby by billy) Smut, consensual but not very safe, cheating, knife play, consensual cutting of the reader by the boys, fear play, oral (fem receiving), oral (m receiving). P in V, pussy slapping
anonymous asked:
I really liked your POV from the last ask, and I got inspired with a smut request from it if you're interested
Reader is Billy and Stu's childhood friend. She was there when they started having this sick fascination with gore and death and even "hardcore" interest when puberty hit them, making her end up being their "friends with benefits ", she isn't aware of their plan so when  they got Tatum and Sydney as girlfriends she expected them to stop thier secret relationship but they still came back to her even though she knows it's bad to cheat, but they come back to her not only because they are obsessed with her and love her but also because she is the only woman who can handle thier Dark sexual habits, the fear with billy  and the inflicting pain with stu.
a/n: im still struggling to figure out whats wrong with me but i felt bad for not posting, so i found this is my drafts and rushed to finish it up so im sorry if the end sucks its also not edited to again im sorry.
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You’ve been their friend since before you can remember. You were there for everything. When their obsession with horror movies grew stronger. When your play fights got a little too rough, and they seemed to enjoy your fighting a little too much. 
The first instance you could remember was when you were eleven years old. Billy and Stu were twelve. You had found a movie in your older siblings room.  You can’t remember the title now but what you do remember was when it started, and got right off into the murder. It was intense, it looked a little too real but stu still complained about how blood wasn’t really that color. He’d been hunting plenty of times with his dad, when he was home, and knew what blood and insides looked like. 
Billy though, was a different story. He seemed entranced, and even licked his lips at a close up of the victims face as she was being murdered. 
Stu was ecstatic that he found a good movie that he hadn’t seen. They both loved it, maybe a little too much and that’s probably why the memory stuck with you. 
The memories only got more and more intense from that one. The next instance was when you were fourteen. You were in the living room of Stu’s house, Billy sitting on the couch, and you and Stu were wrestling on the floor. He eventually got you down, your hands pinned above your head. He was squeezing your wrists a little too tight, and you winced. He grinned at this, and squeezed tighter.
“Ow Stu that hurts,” You whined, attempting to kick him off you. Billy’s attention was now on you and Stu, and Stu’s grin only widened. When he squeezed even tighter, fear flashed across your face. Billy had a frown on his face, but his eyes shone with something you’d never seen before. 
“Stu, seriously that hurts.” You were serious now, and he quickly snapped out of it, letting you go and helping you up off the ground. 
That moment you knew something was off about your best friends. It freaked you out a bit, the way Stu smiled at your pained sounds and Billy’s eyes when he realized you were afraid. 
That wasn’t the last incident. But as you grew older, and learned more about your sexual desires, you realized you weren’t like other people. When watching movies with Stu and Billy, you often found yourself watching intently as the killer would tease their victim with the knife, dragging it across their chest or arm just to see them squirm. You wondered what it would feel like, what it would be like to be so afraid and at someone's mercy. 
You let it slip before you could even think. 
“I wonder what that would be like.” You immediately grew red. Both Stu and Billy looked at you, staring intently.
“Wanna try it?” Stu asked all of the sudden. Billy smacked him on the shoulder.
“You can’t just ask that, fuckrag.” Billy seemed a bit angry at Stu for suggesting it. 
“I mean..” You trailed off, eyes pointing towards the screen in front of you. 
“Wait, you’d actually want to?” Billy was shocked. And you tried to subtly rub your thighs together. Stu’s hand suddenly met your thigh, and you jumped, not expecting him to notice your minuscule movements. 
“I think she wants it, Billy.” Stu’s cheshire grin was wider than you’d ever seen it before, and his eyes met Billy’s. They exchanged looks and it was all history. 
That night changed your life. You’d laid down in Stu’s bed, and he brandished a pocket knife from his pocket. He trailed it from your collarbone and down to your thigh. You tried to hide how hot the cold metal against your skin made you feel.  When he cut your shirt off, you’d gasped. Billy stared at your face, watching your eyes change from fear, to excitement to fear again. God did he enjoy it. 
That started something between the three of you. You were in a sort of “friends with benefits” situation, though you never really clarified anything. It was heaven while it lasted, but soon Billy got with Sidney, and Stu started dating Tatum. You assumed the situationship was over, but how wrong you were. 
You're sitting on your bed, it must be around midnight. There’s a tapping against your window. You don’t normally lock it, because before Sidney and Tatum, they liked to sneak in through your window. It added a certain fear into the situation, you never knew when they planned to bust into your room and take you as they pleased.
 When they started dating the girls, you started locking it, worried that anyone could take advantage of your unlocked window. You assume the tapping sound was just the wind, but it got quicker in succession. So you stand, and walk to the window, looking out. You’re met with a disheveled looking Stu, and a frustrated looking Billy. You unlock and slide open the window. 
“What are you guys doing here!” You whisper-yell at them, your arm resting against the healing marks underneath your clothes. Stu shoves you aside and makes his way into your room, Billy follows. 
“We wanted to see you, duh.” Stu grins at you and Billy smirks with a look you know all too well.
“No, no,” You pause, watching them. “You’re with Sidney and Tatum. We can’t.” You insist. 
Billy puts a frustrated hand through his hair, and you look at him, realizing that he’s hard in his jeans. 
“There’s this whole thing…” Stu trails off.
“What, Stu?”
“Well- I was with Tatum. And we were gettin- y’know.” He makes a gesture that tells you that they were fucking. 
You raise an eyebrow, your chest tightening at the thought of him and Tatum together. “When- uh. We were doing it, all I could think about was you, and how you look underneath me with my knife to your chest.” Stu’s hands make contact with your throat, his thumb resting right on your pulse point. Your heart beats faster at his confession, and you're sure he can feel it. 
“Oh,” Your eyes flutter closed, and you take a sharp inhale of breath. 
“We want you, Baby,” Billy’s voice is pleading. “Just forget about the girls, just for tonight.”
“You’re the only one who understands us, who will take everything we give you and thank us for it.” Stu stops to take a deep breath. “We love you, more than anything..or anyone”
You give in allowing Stu’s lips to connect with your own. Billy moves, removing his shirt as Stu backs you up towards the bed. The back of your knees connect with it, and Stu pushes you to fall onto the softness. He gets out of the way, allowing Billy to crawl in between your legs. 
HIs lips meet yours and his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You don’t open, you know how much he likes it when you resist. His hand comes to your jaw, pressing his fingers in between the joints and your mouth opens. He slips his tongue inside, wrestling yours. 
You don’t even notice as Stu pulls off his shirt, and pulls out the pocket knife he knows to keep in his pocket when he’s coming to see you.
Billy’s lips leave yours to grip the hem of your shirt and pull it up and over your head.The bandages across your hip come off next. Billy moves to pull off your pants and Stu straddles your thighs, pressing the knife against the skin of your other non-marked hip. 
You hiss when he presses down, the knife cutting the skin of your hip. He groans when blood bubbles up to the surface, and he uses his thumb to smear it across the skin. He makes another one, quick but thin and leans down to lick it softly. Billy’s lips meet your neck, sucking harshly against the soft, supple skin.
Billy moves away from your neck and switches places with Stu. He quickly makes work of pulling down your underwear. Billy throws your legs over his shoulders and dives in, eating you out like it’s his last meal. He laps at your clit, his pointer finger going to your hole, and pushing inside you. 
Suddenly, Stu is pressing the knife against your neck, and you quake in fear. Your thighs shake with stimulation as Billy looks at you through his lashes from between your thighs. 
Stu shushes you when you open your mouth to speak, and trails the knife from your throat down between your breasts. He continues moving the knife down, and then he makes a particularly deep cut across your stomach. 
It shocks you, he’s never done that before. Always in one spot so it’s easier to hide, and never that deep so it doesn’t scar as badly. This time, he’s trying to mark you, claim you as his. Because even if he has Tatum, he still wants you.
Billy stops completely, making you whine at the loss. He shimmies out of his pants and boxers, leaving him completely bare in front of you. He crawls between your legs, sitting back on his heels and pulling you against him. Your legs go over his hips, your cunt pressing against his hard cock. 
Stu pulls off his pants and boxers as well, grabbing his cock and pressing it to your lips. You open up, allowing him to slip it in your mouth.
“Good girl..” he groans as his dick is wrapped in the warmth of your mouth. Billy gets jealous, as you’re staring into Stu’s eyes, seemingly forgetting about him. So he slams into you, making you moan around Stu’s cock. 
“F-fuck,” Stu stutters, moaning as you work your tongue around him. 
Billy pushes into you with quick, hard thrusts. You whine in pain as Stu’s fingers wrap in your hair, and he pulls on it, hard. Billy’s fingers slip down to play with your clit, before he pulls out completely, laying a quick smack against your cunt and then slipping back inside you. You moan in pain and pleasure, the sound vibrating against Stu’s cock.
 He groans softly, shallowly thrusting into your mouth. He pulls out, with a pop sound. He strokes himself in front of your face for a moment, and then pushes back into your mouth. 
Billy twitches inside you, rubbing your clit with his thumb. He thrust into you even harder, while you hollow your cheeks around Stu’s cock. Stu quickly falls apart, twitching inside your mouth and then releasing his spend. He grips your jaw, pulling out while Billy continues. 
Stu pries open your jaw, and looks at the white substance as it trickles down your chin. He pushes your jaw shut. 
“Swallow.” You obey, and then open your mouth to show him. 
Billy falls apart quickly after, pulling out and cumming on your pussy. 
They both fall on seperate sides of you, laying there. They pull you into their arms, and Stu closes his eyes. 
Billy laughs, watching how quickly Stu falls back into the same old routine. 
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myfandomprompts · 9 months
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You Belong To Me Now
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Summary: Aemond has become Prince Regent, and there is now nothing holding him from claiming you.
A/N: Quick smutty darkish!Aemond x Reader I wrote, nothing fancy
Words: 2.8k Masterlist [Spanish version - Wattpad by daisy_dont]
Warnings: praise kink, biting, vaginal, bruises, choking, obsession, dom, blowjob
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Aemond had been Regent for a few months now, and although the Valyrian steel of the Conqueror’s crown didn’t rest upon his head yet, it was now an undeniable fact to every member of the realm that he had been born for this. All could finally witness his real worth, his superiority and how good he was at being a commander, a King.
No, he excelled at it. The Blacks haven’t even dared to approach King’s Landing even once in the last few months, and under his command all fear him, all obey him. He was far better at this than his father ever was, than his sister ever will be, and certainly than his broken brother is, tucked in his bed.
His new duties obliged him to be away often, to ride Vhagar and lead his armies on the usurpers who wanted to decimate them and take his city, but when he was back in the Red Keep, all he sees is you.
In fact, he wonders why he had never noticed you before as he crosses paths with you in the corridors, watches you in the throne room during audiences, laughing and hugging your lady friends. Maybe you are part of a House who came to the capital in order to help grow his army, that you are the daughter of an ally he had never bothered to be properly introduced to, because this was all they were to him: his subjects.
Nevertheless you are there, bright as the sun when he spots you when he least expects it and, despite his limited vision, he doesn’t seem to miss your presence, ever. He doesn’t miss the way you play with your hair when you're deep in thought, how your hips sway when you walk, how your fingers surround the glass you take to drink and how the skin of your throat glows as you swallow the liquid.
That he became obsessed was an understatement. There was no rest for his mind, and even amidst the excitement of the battle he thought about your appreciative look when he would return, triumphant. He had talked to you once, the sound of your voice making the hair on his skin raise in delight as he was introduced to you. He knew your name now, and he wouldn't stop there, you occupied every corner of his mind and inhabited his skin.
However and to his greatest dismay, the crown keeps him occupied, reducing the occurrences he can observe you, enjoying how you don't cower under his gaze; you staring back at him like it's a game, one that he never intends to lose.
He doesn’t miss the glances you draw from other lords either, eliciting an icy violence deep within his body and it makes his desire for you grow ever greater. He wants you to be his, completely.
This is why he sends for you one night, confident that you cannot refuse after spending the day looking at you like a starved dog, the lust between his legs becoming harder and harder to control. But he was Aemond Targaryen, and what he wanted, he would have. 
When you enter his chambers and he dismisses his servant; you look at a loss, but intrigued, like a deer caught between hounds but you are still composed, the very image of a Lady from a House he had only bothered to learn its name today. All he knows, deep in his gut, is that you are right where you are supposed to be.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
He takes in your looks, the way your eyes glints with curiosity, the heaving of your chest constricted in this infernal gown he only wishes to rip off, and how sweet you look as you blush out of uneasiness.
When you shake your head so softly, he grins before coming to stand before you. “You’re here to help me with a matter that needs tending to. But first, I need assistance removing my clothes.”
The widening of your eyes makes the colour of it stand out better, and he waits for you to process his order and obey, admiring your beautiful features and the way your lips part in shock. “Go on."
He knows you cannot refuse, seeing the slight confusion in your eyes as your hands reach the buckles of his collar, undoing it one by one with your pretty, trembling little fingers. It takes all of his patience to not move his hands over your form and revel in the sight, smiling to himself.
When his green doublet is removed, his linen shirt remains and he doesn’t let you take a breath when you pull away. “It’s not over, is it? Continue.”
You cast an almost fearful glare at him before resuming your task, helping him out of his shirt gently with concentrated eyes and when your skin touches his in the process, he has to stop a shaky exhale from escaping his mouth.
He sees how you look at his toned chest, pale defined arms, and then glance at his trousers with tight lips. He retains a sneer as he turns away from you and towards his bed, surprising you with his sudden departure.
“Do you know how the other lords look at you, sweet thing? How they look and look, like they had a chance with you? Do you know how much they wish they could bury their cocks into you and take you as they pleased?”
You turn a lovely shade of red, spreading from your face to your neck and below your cleavage, his lewd words disconcerting you and your perfect little honour. How he likes it on you, that innocence.
“Of course you don’t,” he continues, taking a seat at the edge of his bed and not missing a piece of your deliciously growing, panicking state. “You don’t care about them, do you? You just care about serving your Kingdom at most of your capacities.”
You swallow, your body noticeably relaxing lightly at his words but the movement draws his eye to your neck and he instantly wishes he could mark you there, right at the junction of it, where a mole he had not noticed before lays.
“My Prince, I-”
“Come here,” he beckons, patting on his lap after your croaked out attempt of a response. He will spare you the need to explain that yes, you do want to serve your realm loyally, and thus serve him as well. 
You hesitate, eyes darting between his legs and his face, and the lust grows at the thought that he might have to make you obey by other means. But at the sight of his hard expression, you have the good sense to approach, slowly, coming to stand between his legs and he grabs your hips at once, lowering you down onto his lap abruptly.
You let out a yelp at that, your legs forced to straddle him and you have to cling on his shoulders for support, face flushed and thinking fast. Aemond, on the other hand, feels every cell of his body come alive, a wicked smile appearing on his face.
“You know, I haven’t been with many women, but you… you’re something else, aren’t you? You make me understand why men look at women the way they do, what they find so irresistible about them....” he murmurs, putting one strand of your hair aside while his eye trails the pumping of the veins in your delicate neck. “Why all of those lords look at you… But they can’t have you.”
His tone is firmer now, unforgiving. “I have a claim on you they don’t have, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence you came here. That you are in this castle, under my protection.”
You seem unable to speak and the little noises he hears as you try to take a more comfortable position on his lap are like music to him, making him harder under his pants. He takes your hips a little too roughly than he intended in order to pull you to him.
“I’ve been thinking about you for days now, and I ran out of patience, so here is what is going to happen, sweetling. You’re going to take my cock, fully, like the sweet and obedient lady you are so I can feel every damn corner of your cunt, deep enough for me to fill you up.”
With his last sentence he pulls you closer onto him so you can finally feel his hardened state and you whimper in shock, the sound resonating into the room like a pathetic echo as he takes in the sweet scent of your skin, his nose trailing your neck hungrily.
“Hmm, my little pet, so flustered…” he praises as you tense on top of him, your pelvis hitting his member delectably. “You didn’t think I rode the largest dragon in the world and had nothing to show for it, did you?” 
He takes a few more moments to enjoy the friction of your layers against his groin, feeling your body turn soft before gently pushing you away from him to let you unlace the ties of your gown with a commanding look. When you are bare before him, he licks his lips, the sight of your pretty little pussy making his now free cock throb in anticipation.
“You are gonna take me so well, you want to please your Prince, don’t you?”
The way you quickly nod in submission destabilises him so much that he has to take a moment before finding his composure again, his desire slowly growing out of control as he stares at you. But he must be patient, enjoy this, because he is no low man, nothing like the rest of them. So he sits back on the bed and invites you to him, noticing your already blown pupils staring at him.
He doesn’t care that you aren’t prepared, that it might be difficult for you to take him this early because the urge to sheath himself deep inside of you is too strong. But when you hover over him and your folds meet his tip you are so fucking wet that all his fears are swept away, replaced by the indescribable lust that takes hold of him, eager to have you, exactly like you want him.
The sensation makes him unable to concentrate before he puts his hands on your thigh to help you down, and it’s absolutely amazing. You’re warm, tight, right for him; the sweet moan that escapes your lips making him twitch as he looks at your knitted brows that tells him you are feeling him, truly feeling him. You go achingly slow and he can’t help but hiss in frustration, but at this point you deserve to have your own pace; he will be able to take his due later, when you’re accustomed to him.
He can tell from your expression that it hurts, and it makes his loins surge with fire at the thought, the wickedness of it so darkly satisfying. 
“That’s it, all of it. You’re doing so well.”
He finally feels resistance nudging at his tip and he knows you are completely his now, looking at his cock buried deep inside your cunt and you let out a high pitch moan when you still, flesh against flesh in the most deliciously painful kind of way.
It feels right, he can almost feel your heartbeat upon his length and when he slightly withdraws in order to surge his hips forward, instantly hitting your depth hard, you wail loudly.
Aemond laughs as he squeezes your hips harder. “My sweet pet, so beautiful for me. How is it to feel it so deep? Do you want to move for me?”
He grunts when you start to move; he doesn’t have to do anything, your warmth and slickness making him absolutely wanton, and he doesn’t think he had ever felt this complete in his life. It allows him to look at you, take in your bouncing breasts, magnificently round, and he can’t help but reach for them, propping himself up on a sitting position before biting one of your nipples hard, and the sound you let out makes him want to do it again.
But for now he wants to mark you everywhere, your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, your delicate shoulders. He wants to cover you with his tongue and bruise you while you ride him so exquisitely, his mind foggy and half conscious. He feels your nails digging into his back when he sucks at the base of your neck, leaving a trail of drool that covers your skin. He bullies your breasts for his own pleasure and his cock feels every one of your jolts, squeezing him.
He makes you swivel, his length briefly sliding out of you before he lays you down on your belly and enters you again, lacing one arm behind your back to help him pound into you mercilessly, taking full control for the first time and it feels so good that a shameless growl resonates deep within his throat.
“You’re married, aren’t you?” he asks with a grin, admiring your back and the curve of your ass.
“Promised…” you pant through your moans. “To Lord Blount…”
“I see… Then Lord Blount will have an assignment in a land far away very soon,” he purrs with arrogance as he quickens his pace.
The new angle makes you moan loudly, your position seemingly uncomfortable enough to make each rocking of his hips like it’s the last you’ll be able to take. Soon you’re clenching around him, screaming out loud while your shattering orgasm turns you into a puddle in his arms when he lifts you against his chest, whispering in your ear.
“Fucking hell, you like that, don’t you? You couldn’t help but come all over my cock like the good lady you are.”
He keeps jerking his hips until you grow completely silent, feeling his legs momentarily weak when your walls give him a particularly strong squeeze and he withdraws.
You’re unable to move so he lets you lay back on the bed as he examines your folds, red and swollen from his brutal pace and he passes one finger between them to gather your slick. You moan at the sensation as he tastes you, licking his fingers hungrily.
“Bloody Seven, you taste delicious,” he praises as you try to find your breathing. “You’re mine from now on, understood?"
He barely acknowledges the curt nod you make before he laces his fingers around your neck, drawn to its softness and the bruises that begin to form there. He strokes the column of it softly, thoroughly, before grasping the base of your throat so he can hold on to it, hovering over you as he slides gently into you again, your folds spasming briefly from your aftershock. He sees you close your eyes, hiding your beautiful irises from him and he wishes you would look at him, something you do when you feel his hand around your neck constricting.
“Aem-” you let out.
“What is it?” he asks, watching your lips make the most amazing sounds he had ever heard while he rocks into you, his weight on your neck. “Is it my name you want to say? You can scream it if you want.”
But you don’t, to his greatest displeasure, apparently unable to do so as your features stiffen, so he snakes a hand to your dripping cunt, zoning on your swollen clit and you tremble beneath him. When he works your bud, fingers circling it at an unrelenting pace, your lips form an “o” and he decides here and there that he will cum in your mouth. For now, he concentrates on the roll of his hips and the movements of his fingers, one over your neck and the other making you grind onto it in yearning.
You are at his mercy.
“Will you scream my name now, pretty little thing? I can feel you close…”
It takes a tremendous effort from his part to not come undone himself when you finally do, trapped at his own game as you pulse around him, your back arching, and the way you finally cry out his name doesn’t help the little restraint he has left. He growls when you go limp under him, unwilling to let go of your neck and overstimulated bud as he works you through your climax.
“On all fours,” he commands when he finds enough composure to speak, propping himself up on his knees on the mattress and daring to pump himself a few times while you do as told.
He instantly comes to grab your hair, your expression completely in disarray from his brutal ministration on you and, when your mouth meets his weeping head, he can’t process anything, the contrast between the intensity of your folds and the soft warmth and slowness of your tongue killing him. He has the greatest desire to buck his hips into your mouth, to take it all, but your tongue traces along his throbbing vein right before you suck at his most sensitive part and he finishes right there with a croaked moan, painting your mouth with his seed.
You are both panting hard, and when he looks at you behind his hooded eyes, admiring his work, he brings your chin between his fingers and wipes your lips, glossy from his release. “You’ll be there each time I come back, won’t you, pet?”
You nod frantically, exhausted before falling on the bed next to him.
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A/N: Thank you @babyblue711 & @arcielee for the beta reading, so much <3
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de4dlyniightshade · 3 months
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I’d really just like to request your most feral Spencer Reid headcanons. SFW, NSFW, raunchy, tame - whatever. Just your like “I will fight anyone who disagrees, they are fact” type headcanons.
(Because I reread all your headcanons and love every single one)
I BEEN WAITING ON SOMEONE ASKING THIS! i've also just been meaning to make a hc post.
i was gonna split them into nsfw and sfw but they just ended up all mixed together 0-0
submissive and breedable spencer truther til i fucking die i'll get him pregnant don't play with me.
loves messy kisses like spit running down his chin, tongues down each others throat, desperately gripping at each other type of kisses.
maybe just me projecting and taking what mgg said as gospel truth but i fully believe that spencer loves a curvy woman, not even just for sexual reasons he also loves to rest his head on a nice big pair of boobs or thighs.
speaking of, boob guy! shamefully, but still a boob guy! adores groping your boobs whenever he can and would have your boob in his mouth 24/7 if he could, has literally fallen asleep with his head under your shirt and your nipple in his mouth.
munch! like the biggest munch ever, loves nothing more than coming home from a long day and burying his face between your thighs or having you ride his face.
knows full well that toys are his teammate and not his competitors and has no insecurities about you using toys on yourself or owning any.
does not care how well groomed you are, if you asked him what he preferred he'd be like??? it's literally none of my business???
needs lots of reassurance during sex, he just likes to know that he's doing good and making you feel good throughout the whole thing.
doesn't like talking about his sex life, especially with derek, no matter how hard he pressed and pries spencer wont let anything but the bare minimum out.
i imagine he's more drawn to a commanding woman, someone who will take the lead and teach him because of his inexperience and finds that he actually loves being dominated and hardly has any desire to dominate you.
really vocal! even though i've already said it like twice he just is, i can feel it in my bones, he's just such a whiny little baby and can't help but moan loudly any time you're touching him.
is completely against the idea of road head until you do it while you're on a long drive and it both changes his life and almost ends it bcs he swerved into the other lane which was luckily empty.
still gets shy when you kiss him in front even the team even years down the line.
learns to cook so he can make you breakfast whenever you're staying at his apartment.
on the same lines, lovesss morning sex, just that feeling of not wanting to get out your warm bed into the cold air, savouring the warmth in the best way possible.
had no idea what queefing was real until it happened and he was like genuinely so fascinated rather than disgusted.
i feel like spencer would own a bird for sure, not just bcs of gideon but he did help him realise how cool birds are which made him get one, probably a cockatiel or parrotlet with some silly name like dave.
all bark, no bite. likes to act a big game in front of others but the second you're alone he's begging and calling you mommy.
loves nothing more than waking up before you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before carefully and quietly getting out of bed to make you breakfast with the intention of bringing it to you but when you wake up before him and sneak up behind him to wrap your arms around his waist he can't help but melt.
very open to experimenting further down the line, anything you want to try he'll try at least once, except for blindfolds on himself, would be completely open to blindfolding you though.
loves public touching, not outright sex but he'd love when you subtly brush your hand over his crotch or take a handful of his ass in a public place.
teaches you how to knit and cries when you actually make him something like a sweater or even just a hat bcs he realises that's why you wanted to learn in the first place.
can't ride a bike.(this is definitely me projecting bcs i can't but i just feel like he can't okay)
lana enjoyer!!! especially if you are, he just wants to understand all the things you love and if you love lana so does he, he'd love to hear you ramble about your favourite songs and would take note of them and listen to them asap and tell you he loves them even if he didn't like some that much bcs he loves how happy it makes you.
wouldn't want to introduce you to his mother too soon but if you ended up meeting her by chance he'd be sweating buckets in case you didn't get along but you two just bond over your adoration for him and he's just so happy about it.
probably took a while to warm up to physical touch in the beginning bcs of his germophobia but when he finally does he regrets not doing it sooner.
washes his hands every single time before touching you sexually, not even for his benefit, he just wants to be as safe as possible with you.
loves elvis and almost proposes on the spot when you offer to dance with him to can't help falling in love, secretly sheds a few tears while you waltz around his apartment in your pyjamas.
okay i've definitely left stuff out that i've thought of but this is long asf so i'll leave it there😭
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Leonardo (NSFW Alphabet)
Bayverse Leonardo x F!Reader
First of four instalments of my NSFW Alphabet series. Word count: 2500. Some warnings of bondage, overstimulation, breeding and trauma.
Leonardo’s nature is leadership and taking charge, and that would reflect in the bedroom, despite his initial inexperience. Moment’s when he’s willing to let you take the lead or let you treat him are super DELICIOUS- but he prefers to serve and command your pleasure. Very dominant. 
Enjoy!
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A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) - Chemical rush hits him particularly hard. He’s a lot more relaxed and often smiles and laughs and asks if you’re okay, even if he was in a grumpy mood previously. Will press kisses everywhere. Learned very fast he hates feeling dirty, so he’s usually up and about very fast. But he also loves the intimacy of cleaning his partner. Fetching you water and getting you into a comfortable resting position, manhandling you over a towl and giving you kisses and nuzzles all comes naturally to him.
B - Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs or partner) - He loves your back and neck and collar bones. He could pet and hold and trace them all day. 
C - Cum (Anything to do with cum) - He isn’t relaxed about it. Will almost always stiffen up and go quiet. He’ll grab something, like the pillows or blankets and squeeze there. He knows he can hurt you. If he makes any noise it’s always on that first exhale when the orgasm releases him. Something choked and sometimes a little loud before he starts to catch his breath and relax. 
D - Dirty Secret - When he was young, he came across a shibari magazine. He still has it to this day. He thought he was into hard-core dom stuff, but then when he got an actual partner he would realize how not happy he is when his partner isn’t feeling incredible. Becomes much more of a soft-dom type. Lots of petting and kissing you while he holds you down and takes care of you, type stuff. But yunno, he was suspiciously very good at shibari in the beginning.
E - Experience (How much experience do they have) - He doesn’t know shit and he HATES it. So it take forever for him to actually want to have sex for real. Him not knowing what to do is very vulnerable and frustrating for him, especially when you get hurt. Communicating to him at first is like walking on egg shells. So when his dick is stretching you a little too far too quickly, you making a hurt noise or yelping out 'stop' it horrifies him. You gotta keep him on track and out of his head a lot in the beginning.
F - Favorite Position - Positions are one of those things he loves to experiment and mess around with. Even the crazy goofy looking ones. His superhuman flexibility, strength, and love for physical fitness will do nothing but assist. But if he HAD to pick a favorite; Missionary. But the kind of missionary where he has a thumb in your mouth and his lips against your temple while he holds your legs where he wants them while he grinds hard into you. Loves the power and intimacy there, and it gives him easy access to talk or bite. 
G - Goofy (How goofy are they?) - At first, not silly at all. Then even with experience he still appreciates the seriousness and intensity of sex. But Leo actually smiles and laughs a lot during sex. Lots of firm kisses and nuzzles, even if things are getting intense for you. His job is done when you can't stand on your own, have tears all over your face from how good it felt; but you're giggling and hugging him. Loves to flirt and joke with you, in and out sex. Very boyish about it. 
H - Hair - Beyond his desire to have things clean, he doesn’t care.
I - Intensity (How are they during the moment) - Outside of the first several times he has sex, he usually has his wits about him, so it is almost always intense for you. Sex becomes an easy outlet to release energy and strong emotions. That means you are the sole receiver of such things, and he likes it that way. Leo doesn't experience emotional sex until later in a relationship, and it will affect him very deeply; so be prepared to handle a very needy, clingy, and tired Leo for at least an hour or so. 
J - Jack Off (Masturbation Headcanon) - He hates masturbating. He’s too paranoid and he always feels that he’s doing something wrong. He hates it, but he needs it. He knows it will take the edge of frustration off. So when he does; it is ALWAYS in the shower. He needs privacy and it’s easy to clean and forget about. It’s almost never on his mind until it’s in the middle of the night and he CAN’T. Makes it extra hard to sleep sometimes. 
K - Kink (One or more of their kinks) - One time he had you in doggy, and he was getting close. He had huddled all around you and had bit your shoulder when you whispered, “Breed, that pussy Leo. Give it to me, give me a baby-” His brain rewired that day. Knew kink unlocked.
L - Location (Favorite places to do the deed) - He REALLY needs privacy. And familiarity. He struggles to focus on anything other than your safety when you are in a new or public place; and sex is (almost) never on his mind when his family is around. Even if you got hands all over him. If he gets familiar with your apartment, he might venture out into odd spots around there if you live alone. But- he IS kinda into the thought of having outdoorsy sex. He loves the sun. Anddd he loves the water. So If you SOMEHOW convince him to stay in a lakeside cabin, or a super pimped up apartment with a private outdoor pool, with no one around, just saying…perfect anniversary/birthday present for him.
M - Motivation (What turns them on) - Like I said, if you get him some safety and privacy (usually your bedroom or apartment with the door locked) Leo will suddenly want sex with you like- ALL THE TIME.
N - No (Turn OFFs) - Don’t hit him, don’t degrade him, and the instant you say stop or no- he’s done. It’s actually a struggle (especially in the beginning) to get him back in the mood if he actually hurts you. It made teaching ‘what hurts and what doesn’t’ a little rough. He would greatly benefit from the ‘color system’ technique over a safe word. It allows him to check in and get assurance and feed back and much as he needs to- instead of having to wait for your explicit ‘no stop’. Also allows him to remain confident even if you’re ‘struggling away’ or shaking uncontrollably or making really, really sexy overwhelmed noises. Yunno...
O - Oral (Preference in giving/receiving) - Leo gives regularly (constantly). He takes pride in being…really good at it. However he LOVES receiving. He rarely - if ever - asks for a bj. But fuck, it’s one of his favorite things. He loves looking down at you and making eye contact with you while you stare at him and love on him and (struggle) to suck, touch and please him. It blows his mind and he thinks about it constantly. But he’s also aware he gets a little more reactive like this. His noises get a little louder and higher, his eye's roll back a lot, he twitches and shakes a tad bit more than he usually allows himself to. He thinks the loss of control is a little embarrassing. You think it's hot as fuck.
P - Pace (Are they fast/rough or slow/sensual) - This boy LOVES to drag sex out. He’ll slow down or speed up when he sees fit. Especially if it drags out your finish. Or gets you to finish multiple times. He will rarely get physically rough during sex beyond some hair pulling and manhandling. The roughest he gets is when he’s close, when he needs to speed up or grab/bite you. The bruises are always worth it. 
Q - Quickie (Their opinions on quickies) - His need for privacy and you’re safety make quickies difficult if not outright impossible. Unless it’s his season or ya’ll haven't had privacy in days- yeah, he’s taking you to the bathroom and you’re going to be very quiet for him, you understand?
R - Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks, etc) - Leo doesn’t like to actually be restrained. So beyond public/indecent acts and something that can ACTUALLY prevent him from rising to an emergency situation - he is down to try everything once with you. You sometimes have to beg him to be on the receiving, submissive side of things. But it doesn’t take much effort at all if he’s in a good mood. He will desire at least some research into some topics, but he’s already big on communication, so that would make navigating new things much, much easier.
S - Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last) - All of the turtles have superhuman stamina. With practice, Leo could have sex all day if you allowed it. 
T - Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them?) - Leo was never ever opposed to toys. He’d be awkward about things being placed on him. Doesn’t really use them on himself. But he’d master toys very, very quickly, and would see them as the tools (torture devices) that they are. I also see him (with age and experience) owning his own small collection eventually. Mainly vibrators and rope, and I see him liking glass things. He thinks they are beautiful and easy to clean. 
U - Unfair (How much do they tease) - In the realm of PDA, when he’s trying to tease you sexually he actually goes the opposite than physical touch? His teasing comes in the form of super SUPER intense bedroom eyes. All while he’s got some ‘grumpy’ almost prowley body language. It would look like he's kinda irritated, like he’d be in a chair with one hand on his face while bouncing his leg. Then he’d look up at you and you’d just KNOW. Or he’d be walking somewhere on the other side of the room and he’s walking all slow and intense and he's giving you LOOKS to the point where you don’t want to look at him. It’s JUST subtle enough that no one seems to notice, but it’s hot. The type to duck down close enough to whisper, "I need you naked and on the bed as soon as we get home, you hear me?"
V - Volume (How loud they are, what sounds?) - Okay, if you ask Leo this question, he’s gonna deny he makes noises. He’s one of THOSE guys. Thinks it’s embarrassing. But he’s a liar. He is very noisy. He wasn’t at first, given his background paranoia around sex and masturbation and how ‘unprivate’ his life has been. But during sex, when he’s out of breath he makes growly, frustrated sounds. But on days when you treat him, when you’re riding him or giving him a bj and he’s 'not allowed to touch'- his moans get a little desperate and almost emotional. It’s rare but it’s SUPER hot when he whimpers. He won’t make a peep in the middle of orgasm but depending on it’s strength, his next noise can be pretty loud. Sometimes he bites something or buries his face in you in an effort to avoid letting anything out. While his noises are super sexy, watching Leo try to hide them is also kinda hot too.
W - Wild Card (Random) - He’s always secretly dreamed he could get married. Have a house, a wife and kids- His fantasy of having you married, barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen is something that will take him years to admit to you. Sex gets extremely vulnerable and intense for him very very quickly if you two start dirty talking about getting you pregnant. He will need an hour of recovery and closeness after, and if he doesn’t get that (if you two get interrupted or pulled away), anything that prevents him from recharging in your arms- he won’t be okay for a while. Leaves him in a dark mental space. 
X - X-Ray (what’s going on in those pants) - I am team cloaca. Leo's still pretty big, proportionate to himself, and that means MASSIVE for you. Despite the extra lubricant and smoothness of his erection, he takes great care to prepare you always for his size, if it even gets to that point. He’s not the type to think penetration is the best part of sex, and is happy to let it go for the sake of earning you and/or him a fantastic orgasm (or several).
Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive) - He can go weeks without having sex, but that does not mean he doesn't want it.  The frequency of sex is not as high on the list as a lot of other things, but he craves it daily with you. His drive is very high, and he will pounce on every opportunity you allow. His self control, discipline, and life-long experience SUPPRESSING his sexual drive assist in keeping his yearning under control. 
Z - Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards) - Leo is huge on clean up, and he’s instinctively a provider so he is quick to hand you water, manhandle you on top of a towel, then curl up for cuddles and kisses and laughs. Sleep (especially deep sleep) is difficult for Leo. But if you provide him with a long, physically exerting session, a strong orgasm, your arms and legs around him and lots of cuddles and kisses, suddenly everything is right with the world, everything is going to be okay, and he always finds the best sleep like this. Always. 
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astroismypassion · 6 months
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Astrology observations 🦊🦊🦊
Credit goes to my Tumblr astrology blog @astroismypassion
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🦊Libra Chiron, Venus Chiron aspects and Chiron in the 7th house often experience pressure from parents when it comes to partnerships. They might have parents that had a hand in coming together with their partner in union, marriage. I'm not saying these people experience an arranged marriage, we should look for other aspects for that, but whenever the native is in a serious partnership, the parents might pressure them to get married, they are rooting for it to happen.
🦊Mercury Chiron people along with Chiron in the 3rd house feel like they were never chosen when it comes to friendships, partnerships. They were the last picked on soccer team or for a team project. Therefore these people often want to have more variety, they desire more people around them that they can choose from.
🦊Neptune square Chiron people often don't like their feet, the shape and how they look.
🦊Libra Chiron and Chiron in the 7th house often have the feel like partnership is something hard to come by.
🦊Pisces and Sagittarius Chiron have tons of hobbies, because they often feel like they lack rich "inner world". So they need a lot of hobbies to fill them. They might think about themselves that they are not really that imaginative.
🦊Jupiter positive aspect Juno often have a person that they met when young and stay in touch throughout life for many years.
🦊Ascendant negative aspect Ceres often come across as they simply don't care even when they actually do. They need to work hard to overcome their tendency to micromanage too or giving opinion when is not asked for. These people often come across as not caring enough, so they end up overdoing it to the point of being overly sweet with compliments or little gifts. They might be tempted to buy affection of a person.
🦊People with Sagittarius Ascendant (Gemini Descendant) might often attract a partner that ends up looking more like their sibling or a cousin rather than a partner. One example of this happening in real life is Madeline Argy (Sagittarius Ascendant) and her former partner British rapper Central Cee (Gemini Sun).
🦊Boyfriends of a Virgo Sun often end up looking very boyish or have this teenage charm, like they look pure, angelic and young.
🦊I often find in same Sun couple (for example both are Capricorn Sun) that one of them has Libra Juno. They are looking for the same version of themselves basically.
🦊People with Scorpio South Node need to learn in this lifetime that not all of people in their inner circle of friends, family and romantic partners deserves their time, energy and affection.
🦊Virgo Jupiter and Virgo over the 9th house natives might feel anxious about engagements and marriage. They have this back and forth thinking about marriage, one day they are up for it, other days they are more anti marriage. Also, these people could feel like their in-laws are hot and cold or two-faced with them. One day they get along really well with them, the next day they might be more ignorant. You could travel with your in-laws too. You might also work with your in-laws, like being part of family business.
🦊Mercury in the 12th house, Virgo/Gemini over the 12th house keep their room, home soo tidy. Like they can't fall asleep if there are still dirty dishes in their kitchen.
🦊Actor Matthew Perry from Friends had so many addiction indicators in his Natal chart is unbelieveable, such a concentrated chart.
🦊I noticed in romantic Composite charts that Libra over the 12th house often points to the fact that the romantic connection, partnership might not flourish, happen. Because there is this feel that both STILL don't know each other well. There is so much confusion between both with this placement. A lot of misunderstandings, miscommunication or misplaced expectations.
🦊That person you had feelings for, but never confessed? You might have Composite Pisces Moon with this person.
Credit goes to my Tumblr astrology blog @astroismypassion
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astercontrol · 2 months
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If KOSA passes
Or if any other form of censorship (there are many in the works!) ever succeeds at stepping in to impede our ability to communicate online:
We have to make plans.
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Now, I dunno who'll even see this post. The few followers I have are TRON fans (who despite the fantasy we live in, tend to have realistically dismal views IRL about Disney and the various corporate uses of software).
And this fandom, on average, is pretty tech-savvy. It's where I've encountered the most people under 20 years old who actually know how to use a desktop or laptop computer.
So, if there's any hope for what I'm thinking about, this is prolly a good place to start with it.
(As with all my posts, I encourage reblogging and containment-breaching.)
(Gifs are clips from TRON 1982, mainly the "deleted love scene," from the DVD extras.)
Anyway.
Current society has moved online communication much too far onto major social media sites for my comfort. Whoever you communicate with over the internet, chances are you do it through a service owned by a big company: Tumblr, Twitter, Discord, Telegram, Facebook, whatever. Even TikTok (shudder).
These sites, despite their many flaws, can provide experiences that are valuable and hard to get otherwise. And once all your friends are on one site, you can't just leave and stay in touch with them all, not unless they all go the same place. It's easy to see why it's hard to abandon any social media platform.
But a backup plan is important. Because, as we've seen over and over, social media sites can't be relied on. They change their policies suddenly, without good reason-- and are inconsistent, even discriminatory, about enforcing those policies.
If they're funded by ads, the advertisers are their main customers, and your posts are the product. Their goal is that the posts most valuable to the advertisers get seen by people the advertisers consider desirable customers.
Helping you communicate-- making your posts get seen by the people you want to communicate with-- is optional to them.
Not to mention that the whole business model of an ad-funded website is generally unsustainable. Many of these sites are operating at a loss, relying on shareholders in a fragile bubble, doomed to fail soon just from lack of real profit.
And the more restrictions --like KOSA-- that the law puts on freedom of online speech, the likelier they are to go down or just become unusable. Every rule a site is required to follow is another strain on its resources, and most of them are already failing badly at even enforcing their own self-imposed rules.
If we want any control over our continued ability to stay in touch with our online friends-- we need to have a backup plan. Maybe it'll be simple at first, a bare-bones system we cobble together-- but it's gotta be something that will work. For a while at least.
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There are lots of really good posts about ways to build your own website, using a service like Neocities. I VERY MUCH recommend learning this skill-- learning to make websites of the very simplest, most stable, glitch-resistant type, made of html pages-- which you can upload to a host while you store backups on your home computer. If you value the writing and art that you put online, this is probably the safest you can keep it.
But that's for making your own creative work public.
As for communicating with others-- for example, receiving and answering other people's comments on your work-- that gets more complex. I personally haven't found it worthwhile to troubleshoot the problems that come with having a system that allows visitors to comment publicly on my website.
But what we do still have-- and likely will for a long time-- is email.
Those of us who came of age before social media's current hold... well, we might take this for granted. Email was the first form of online contact we ever encountered… and thus it can seem to us like the most ordinary, the most boring.
But in the current world, it is a rare and precious thing to find a method of communicating that doesn't require everyone in the chat to be signed on with the same corporation.
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Email is, as of now, still perfectly legal-- as much as social media companies have been trying to herd the populace away from it. I'm sure there are other ways to share thoughts online that are not bound by laws. But I am not going to go into that here.
Email service is provided by law-abiding companies, which will comply with subpoenas if law enforcement thinks you are emailing about doing illegal things. So, email is not a surefire way to be safe, if laws become dystopian enough to threaten your freedom to talk about your own life and identity.
But it's safer than posting on a public social media page.
For now.
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Email is beautifully decentralized. You can get an email address many different ways-- some reliant on a company like Gmail, others hosted on your own domain. And different people, with all different types of email addresses, hosted in all different ways-- can all communicate together by the same method.
Of course any of these people, individually, can lose their email address for some reason or other, and have to get a new one. But as long as they still know the email addresses of their contacts, they can reconnect and recover from that loss. The structure of a group linked by email is reliant not on a single company-- but on the group itself, the friends you can actually count on.
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This is why I am trying to promote the idea of forming email lists, as a backup plan to give people a way to stay in touch as mainstream social media sites prove to be unsustainable.
I'm envisioning a simple system of sending emails to several addresses at once, and making each reply visible to everyone in the chat by using "reply all" (or, if desired, editing the To field to reply to only some).
If enough people get used to using email in this way, it could fill most of the needs met by any other group chat or forum …without depending on a centralized social media company that's taking dystopian measures to try and make the business profitable.
So here are some thoughts about how I personally imagine it could work.
(Feel free to comment and bring up any thoughts I haven't addressed, or suggestions to customize how specific groups could set it up. This is meant as more of a starting point for brainstorming than a catch-all solution.)
As I see it, here are the basics of what you and your friends would each need to start out:
An email address. Any kind, hosted anywhere. You should use a dedicated email account just for this group, one that you do NOT use for other communication. Being in this group will result in things you don't want happening to your main email address-- like getting a TON of email, one for every post and reply. Or someone could get your email address that you really don't want any contact with. Use a burner email account (one that you can easily replace) and change it if needed.
The knowledge of how to "REPLY ALL" in your email. This will be necessary in order to add a comment that everyone in the group can see.
The knowledge of how to EDIT THE "TO" FIELD in your email, and remove addresses from the list of all recipients. This will be necessary if you want to CHANGE WHICH PEOPLE in the group can see your comment.
The knowledge of how to FILTER WORDS in your email. This will be necessary if a topic comes up that you don't want to see any mentions of.
The knowledge of how to BLOCK PEOPLE in your email. This will be very important. If someone joins this email group who you do not want to interact with, it will be up to you to BLOCK them so that you do NOT see their messages. (If they are bad enough to evade the block with multiple burner accounts, that's what you have a burner account for. Change it, and share the new one only with those you trust not to give it to them.)
Every person in the group will be effectively a "moderator" of the group, able to remove people from it by cutting their email addresses out of the "To" field. Members will all have equal "moderator" privileges, each able to tailor the group to their own needs.
This means the group may naturally split, over time, into other groups, each one removing some people and adding others. Some will overlap, some won't. This is good! This is, in my opinion, what online interaction SHOULD be like! There should be MANY groups like this!
In this way, we can keep online discussion alive, no matter WHAT happens to any of the social media websites.
If the dystopia got bad enough to shut down email, we could even continue with postal mail and photocopies, like they did in the days of print-zine fanfiction.
If it looks like the dystopia is gonna come for postal mail too, we'll use the connection we have to preserve whatever contacts we can with people who live near us.
Not saying it's GONNA get that bad. But these steps of preparation are good no matter exactly what kind of bad stuff happens.
As long as some organized form of communication still exists, we'll have a place where it's at least a little safer to be your true self…
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to plan events and meetups…
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and maybe even activities a little too risque to make the final cut of a 1982 Disney movie.
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They're trying to censor us. We want a Free System. So we're gonna fight back.
For the Users. Not the corporations.
Peace out, programs. <3
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