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frogchiro · 7 months

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I hope I’m not bothering you with my ancient greek mythology stuff my little brain is going into overdrive👉👈

Just…sculptor/painter reader using the gladiators as her nude model…running your hands over their muscles and gushing how strong they are and how amazing your latest piece is going to come out!

You don’t even notice they’re getting hard as you run your fingers over their adonis belt commenting how they’re your new muse for your art

I almost (s)creamed the moment I saw this ask nonnie dear you're a genius ;;

Also I feel the need to mention this; please do keep in mind that this is only my silly au and most probably will have historical inaccuracies so if you're a true history/ancient greece/roman enjoyer, please go mild on me ;;

But back to the drill...You are so right??? Like...I imagine that reader would be a young, aspiring artist with a knack for painting. Maybe she doesn't come from a wealthy family so any true school for it is out of the question, your own parents only came along when you started selling your painting and doing commissions for nobles and it actually started to bring in money. Your road to success is still long but you're managing! Plus you're 'stupidly determined like your father' as your mother says so you try to stay positive!

The one problem you had was something you believed many artists suffered from; inspiration and models. Specifically human models. The human body and physique fascinated you from an early age, the moving muscles, facial expressions to different stimuli and so much more but...the problem were the models, or rather the lack thereof.

You could probably hire someone but the money spend on that would be way too much for your limited budget so the next best thing was the coliseum! It was a blessing in poor disguise, the gladiators trained there almost daily and luckily the head keeper of the arena begrudingly let you stay there and practice in exchange for a satchel of money but to be honest...the practice wasn't the only thing you longed for when visiting the coliseum almost daily, it was the gladiators.

They were huge, burly men in their prime, all of them looking like they were born with a sword or spear in hand and to grow up to become warrior and you'd be lying if you said that warmth didn't spread through your body and centered in your lower belly whenever these big, loud and boisterous men didn't call out for you and purred in dripping, low voices how pent up they are and what they wouldn't give for a pretty soft thing like you :((

The worst (or best) part was when you were practicing nude drawings which were equally fascinating and hard to draw, especially with all these men being so...shameless with it. You loved the human body, all artists do but still you were a young lady and watching all the gladiators walking around the barracks all naked and proud was...an experience to say the least and brought a pang of warmth between your thighs, especially when they were so happy to parade themselves like proud stallions in front of you :((

Strong, toned bodies glistening with sweat and water, their hardening cocks proudly on show whenever you run your soft hands over their toned torsos to study the way muscles move and twitch whenever you run your fingers over a sensitive spot, the most reactive being two of the many foreign gladiators, Johnny or like he insisted to be called 'Soap' and Kyle or 'Gaz', like he wants to be called.

These two are always purring low withing their chests to you as you look all over them, their backs, chests, stomachs, making you promise to do a special commission only for them but you're just nodding dumbly because you're too transfixed on the god-like bodies to draw :(

Another gladiator you're very fond of is a huge, blonde foreigner named Simon, or 'Ghost'. A formidable warrior, a veteran for sure, it looked like Ares himself send this one here to grace the people with a demigod of war. He was always incredibly patient with you, letting you roam your hands over his body and all the numerous scars decorating his skin. Once you saw Simon up close you immediately realized why people called him a demigod-he was beautiful. A strong and powerful man in his prime, his muscles jumping and twitching beneath his thick skin and a layer of fat, power and virility was literally radiating off of this man, and you insistently tried not to look at the long and thick cock hanging between his legs, twitching and pulsating with arousal whenever you marveled over his body and your fingers ran over his adonis belt <3

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #THANK YOU FOR THIS #i could go on for hours ;;#gladiator au #gladiator!ghost #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader

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crucialplayer · 9 months

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Thoughts on moon placements

!! everything is based purely on my experiences with signs, written with no other purpose than to share my observations and be unserious.

Aries moon. Will ask you a question and leave midway through u answering it just cuz little men in their head pushed a new button on the emotions console, inside out style. If they feel some type of way be sure everyone in the room will also feel it. Great at destroying social harmony.

Taurus moon. Brick wall banging against which you risk irrevocably damaging ur head. Usually deal with stress or any negative emotions by falling asleep. Insanely bad at moving on from anything.

Gemini moon. Find an outlet for your thoughts and ideas and it better not be that one poor friend that is too nice to stop your rambling. Anxiety ride from the moment they wake up till the moment they fall asleep if they actually manage to. Never have a firm stance on anything.

Cancer moon. If they feel sad they can suck the life out of the air. Feel a lot and usually stop at that. Somehow kinda bad at reflecting. Some of them could really benefit from rationalizing their emotions. Like to reminisce a lot.

Leo moon. Every day is a Miss Universe contest. Don't understand the concept of putting yourself in someone else’s shoes. Live life like they’re being filmed for a biopic about them. Get offended easily. Having too many ego deaths on a daily basis bless them.

Virgo moon. Invented anxiety and hating things. Genuinely think they are smarter than everybody but like to ignore the fact that they’ve been stuck in the loop of the same problems for a couple of years. VEry unstable self-esteem.

Libra moon. Appear very carefree to the point of care actually not existing in their world I think. Like cute things and cute feelings. Dislike ugly things and ugly feelings. Shine best when surrounded by people and are needed by someone.

Scorpio moon. If mood swings were a moon placement it’d be this one. Cutting ur hair at 3 am moon. Everything is profound and deeply personal. Identity crisis during a bus ride home. Being nonchalant is a hoax.

Sagittarius moon. 3 minute emotional life cycle. Consider feeling down a random virus they caught somewhere and not a genuine state of being. Cure themself to the natural optimistic disposition by blowing up to someone’s face and proceeding to go with their day unbothered.

Capricorn moon. Incapable of giving approval or being positive about anything. See three steps forward except only for the situations going wrong. Hence dissociate when they’re supposed to feel happy. The soul leaves their body when entrapped by loud people.

Aquarius moon. Have ideas about feelings. When exposed to simple emotional stimuli fall into a theoretical spiral. Like to look for the signs and parallels. Without a social circle are like fish without water.

Pisces moon. Kid lost in the mall vibe. Dreamed a more exciting life and are living it. Need alone time to survive but also kinda hate it?? Always care, would lose at the speed of light in the idgaf war. Do art please.

#astrology #astro notes #astro observations #natal chart #zodiac signs #aries moon #taurus moon #gemini moon #cancer moon #leo moon #virgo moon #libra moon #scorpio moon #sagittarius moon #capricorn moon #aquarius moon #pisces moon

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headspace-hotel · 9 months

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"New (old) perspectives on self-injurious and aggressive biting" published in Journal of Applied Behavior Analysis / Nine Inch Nails- The Hand that Feeds

I was troubled to see a trend of claiming that Autistic people who do not support Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA) are a group of "low-support-needs" autistics who are monopolizing the conversation and taking resources away from autistics with higher support needs—I think it is misunderstanding.

Individual positive or negative experiences with ABA are irrelevant here—the fundamental core of the therapy is behaviorism, the idea that an autistic person can be "treated" by rewarding "desirable" behaviors and punishing "undesirable" behaviors, and that an increase in desirable behaviors and decrease in undesirable behaviors constitutes successful treatment

In researching I found that ABA practitioners have published statements condemning conversion therapy. They refer to an unfortunate historical association between ABA and conversion therapy, but it is not association—ABA literally is conversion therapy; the creator of it used it to try to "cure" little boys that were too feminine.

ABA is considered "medically necessary" treatment for autism and the only "proven" treatment, in that it is proven to create decrease in "undesirable" behaviors and increase in "desirable" behaviors.

Undesirable behaviors for an autistic person might include things like stimming and talking about their interests, desirable behaviors might include eye contact, using verbal speech, playing with toys in the "right" way.

The BCBA behavior analyst code of ethics does not prohibit "aversive" methods (e.g. electric shock) to punish undesirable behaviors

The code of ethics only discusses the consent of the "client," not the person receiving the treatment

Many people will say "my child's ABA therapist would never make them repress harmless stims, give up their interests, use electric shocks...They understand the value of neurodiversity and emphasize the consent of the child..."

But consider...if nothing binds or requires an ABA therapist to treat stimming as important, nor restrains them from using abusive techniques, nor requires them to consider the consent of a person being treated, what protects vulnerable people other than luck? The ABA therapist still has an innately unethical level of power over a child being "treated."

Furthermore, consider: can a therapy built on the goal of controlling the behavior of a person who cannot meaningfully consent to it, especially without hard limits or protections on the kinds of behavior that can be coerced or controlled, ever be ethical?

I found many articles that discuss teaching "compliance" in autistic children, treating "compliance" as a reasonable goal to strive for without qualification...

The abstract of the above article struck me with a spark of inspiration. Biting is an undesirable behavior to be controlled, understandably so, since most would feel that violence should not be allowed. But I was suddenly reminded of the song "The Hand that Feeds" by Nine Inch Nails, which is a play on the saying "Don't bite the hand that feeds you," meaning don't lash out against someone that is kind to you.

But doesn't "the hand that feeds you" implicitly have power over you through being able to give or withhold food? In this case, kindness can be a form of coercion. Thus "biting the hand that feeds" is used in the song as a metaphor for autonomy and resisting coercive power. The speaker asks the audience if they have the courage to test the benevolence of their oppressors, or if they will remain compliant and unquestioning even though they know deep down that it isn't right.

Likewise the article blunders into something unintentionally poetic when it recognizes that biting is an innately possible behavior in response to "aversive" stimuli or the "removal of reinforcers." Reinforcers and aversives in ABA are discussed as tools used by the therapist—the presentation of a preferred food would be a reinforcer, for instance (and is often used as such in ABA).

The journal article considers biting as a behavioral problem, even though the possibility that someone may bite can never be eliminated. Contrastingly, "The Hand that Feeds" highlights the coercive power behind the ability to control your behavior, even when that control appears benevolent and positive, and argues that "biting the hand that feeds you" is not only a possibility but a moral imperative.

Consider: In what circumstances would you bite someone? To defend your own body? To defend your life? Are there circumstances in which biting would be the reasonable and the right action to take?

What authority decides which behaviors are desirable or undesirable, and rewards or punishes compliance or resistance? Who is an authority—your therapist? Your teacher? Your caregiver? Any adult? Any person with the power to reward or punish?

In what circumstances might compliance be demanded of you? In what circumstances would it be justifiable not to comply? What authority decides which circumstances are justifiable?

Can you imagine a circumstance where it might be important for a child to not comply with the demands of an adult? For a citizen to not comply with the demands of a government? Which authorities demand compliance in a right and just manner, and which demand compliance to things that are evil and wrong? Which authority has the power to differentiate the two? Should you trust them? Will you bite the hand that feeds you?/Will you stay down on your knees?

#analysis #power #authority #aba #applied behavior analysis #aba tw #abuse tw #nine inch nails #music #psychology #autism #actually autistic #psych critical

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gorgeouslypink · 11 months

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Easy Method to Enter the Void (No Meditations, LOA, Subliminals, etc)

This post was supposed to be shared weeks ago but I totally forgot about it so please enjoy it now. I am on break still however.

link to original post: here

link to another bloggers explanation in more clearer terms: here

I consciously reached the void within 6 minutes of falling asleep (new record) easily via the Bob Monroe couch/recliner method I posted here before. I did it after no more than 3.5 hrs of WBTB. Unsurprisingly, this person also has the same experience of chilling in the void after WBTB and sleeping in a recliner. You can anywhere and do anything once you're in the void. I strongly recommend using this method.

A beanbag also seems to work as it molds itself to your position. If using a couch/recliner, it should ideally be at a 120-130 degree angle.

You need a pillow on your neck and back so your field of vision is forwards like waking life and not sideways or downwards like dream life. It's also worth noting Tibetan Buddhist monks (creators of dream yoga which is known as lucid dreaming in the mainstream) also slept sitting upright.

IME, I was snapped out of it because of external stimuli of which I suspect was cars I heard outside my usual reality. This is something I failed take into account because while sleeping while sitting upright with your eyes positioned forward does prevent key parts of the mind like the prefrontal complex from shutting down during physical sleep, you can get woken up by outside noise due to an awake conscious mind. This can be remedied easily with noise cancelling headphones or earplugs or maybe even sleeping pills. Haven't tried this with binaural beats and don't care enough to.

I also didn't experience sleep paralysis before reaching the void. Your experience may vary. Due to you basically forcing your body in a sort of in between, half awake, half sleep state, you may have an intense conscious sleep paralysis episode involving falling sensations, entity communication and etc. There's also a real chance of you falling asleep only to "wake up" by stepping out your recliner only to turn around and literally see your body sleeping. If you freak out, your astral body might get sucked back into your physical body and you'd be woken up.

This method is a free and easy way to induce an altered state of consciousness but by now you should really be aware of what can come with you hovering on the line between a waking state and a sleep state.

#void state #void success

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mrskokushibo · 6 months

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Thank you all for your support today 🙏💞. You are my pillars of strength. This one is for you.

My Support

NSFW I MDNI I 18+

Kokushibo x fem!reader

Your eyes were closed, the darkness inside you spreading like slow flowing tar, filling out every nook and crevice, squashing your thoughts down to a repetitive catatonia of self-loathing and despair. You could not move, curled up in bed, laying on your side. It was as if you were floating in a vacuum, no longer a part of the world of the living, but unable to cross the Styx either.

Suddenly, the bed shifted under the weight of a new occupant, and a moment later, you were tightly held against a big, strong body, brawny arms cradling you in a snug embrace. His breath was on your neck, and the waterfall of his hair covering your face.

You backed into him a little to indicate that his presence was more than welcome. Still in a depressed haze, you exhaled as your heart rate was steadying to match his.

Despite your miserable state, instinctively, you bucked your ass into his hips and rolled it gently. Kokushibo sighed quietly, and his hand began caressing your belly, moving up to your breasts and then neck, while you could feel him grow. He kissed your neck, and then, with a subtle, delicate touch of his hand, he directed you to turn your head to face him and locked you into a flutter of a kiss, his lips just barely touching yours, his softness caressing yours.

"You know I love you? Above everything."

His deep voice permeating you and flowing through your senses down to your now pulsing core.

"Make love to me, Koku. I need you tonight, more than ever."

"As you wish, my love."

His voice muffled with desire, his hands already obeying your request, slowly but efficiently unrobing you and himself while continuing the caress.

Softly, he massaged your soft mounds, the pleasure relaxing you, one soft squeeze at a time. A gentle tease to your nipples in-between the massage, just enough to make you wet, but not enough to yet drive you crazy. He rolled you onto your back and began kissing your neckline and breasts. You closed your eyes and relished in the silent worship.

You moved your hand to his mane and rubbed his scalp and ran your fingers through his thick, spiky hair. His lips were now trailing down your belly and toward your slit, and when he finally reached the juicy softness, he ran his finger up and down along the labia, without entering yet, one of his hands still busy with your breast and nipple.

He then moved his finger in between your folds and scooped up your slick, putting it in his mouth and licking it up slowly, looking you straight in the eyes. He gave you the faintest of smiles, and while holding your gaze, dove straight in between your legs, his tongue immediately starting to fuck your pussy. And a long, powerful demon tongue was more than sufficient to make you moan. The squelching sound of the strong muscle fucking into your hole acted as an additional stimuli.

You were now squirming and your thighs were beginning to shake and abdomen spasm in pleasure. Every nerve was both tensing and relaxing, small coils of pleasure bursting everywhere between your legs. Purposely, he was edging you, not in a cruel way, but only to extend your exhilarating experience. He could see deep inside you with his transparent vision and he knew exactly how far he could push you.

When you were reaching that point where desperation for release was becoming apparent, he moved his fingers to your clit and as if by a push of a detonator, you exploded in your orgasm, juices squirting out, covering his face and ending up in his open mouth. His Adam's apple was bobbing as he was eagerly lapping it all up, you still shaking from your powerful climax.

You took his head in your hands and pulled him up to you, and into a deep kiss, sweet tasting of your own cum. He was moaning, delighting in sharing the treat with you. His tongue deep in your mouth, exploring just as it was doing it in your pussy a minute ago.

"Lie down, I want to return the favour."

You whispered as you rolled him on his back and began moving to his throbbing hard dick. His only response was a huge, fanged grin and a quiet moan when your lips engulfed his leaking tip.

Mastelist

A special thank you to my friends who reached out and literally saved me today. Lysm 💞: @sunandflame @misslauravillanueva @ladyuchiha1992 @koku-shibou @peachdues @darkened-claws-and-tentacles @crescentmoontsuki (no particular order, you all reached out to me and I value everyone's help equally 💜💜💜)

Divider by @saradika

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dev1lm4n · 1 year

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familiar face

ko-fi | series masterlist

pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader

summary: you're wicked fantasies' number one fan, who would've guessed that he'd be a part of your host family.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: explicit (18+), pre-apocalypse, masturbation, internet porn, age gap (joel's in his mid 30's and reader is in her early 20's), reader is an exchange student but nationality is not mentioned

notes: this is set on 2013 like the game, but characters are potrayed like how they did in the series. send me a req or chat me!

To say you’re obsessed would be an understatement to the severity of your addiction.

Enslaved to this certain habit of yours, your mind was wrapped around it like a wrapper to a gas station lollipop. Tacky and overzealous. A constant revolting urge that needed relieving, tension that made guts throb and lungs squeaking out for dear life when not pleased. This addiction of yours wasn’t as customary as slender rolls of cigarettes and weed brownies, it was a little odd and shameful to admit to. Still, it was a part of you. Even when you’d rather shuffle it into a dark corner than be confronted by it.

You couldn’t remember how it all started, but it seems to have taken on a life of its own. Would it be shameless if you openly admit that you always open up a schedule for it? It became a routine. Perhaps the unfinished papers, the impossibly low marks, and the frequent suffering was what drove you to it. It served as an easy release. No hassle. No awkward ha-ha-has and faking ah-ah-ahs. No mindless chattering over football or the current state of the government to earn what you truly want: a good fucking orgasm.

This addiction comes in the form of a man.

A man who exists within the confines of your 13-inch laptop. More precisely, within a specific site that begins with the abbreviation for pornography and ends with hub.

Your eyes cruised over the edge of your lousy laptop, which still continues to emit a weird helicopter noise despite your latest visit to a technician, to find the time. To your pleasure, it marked precisely 11 PM, the exact time in which you promised yourself to put an end to your essay despite how unmethodical it looked. A silent smile made its way to your lips as your cursor quickly pressed the x button, before surely making its way to create a new tab.

“P”

Just the single letter quickly brought up your most frequent website. A simple website predominantly black with splashes of yellow accents, though what was exceptionally appealing was the instant stimuli given from the front page. Your eyes twinkled like a starved pervert. What greeted your eyes first was a lady facing your way. Preppy rounded glasses with a shade of mauve lipstick you’re quite fond of, dressed in what you could only assume to be a dollar tree medical gown. She looked like she’s in pure bliss, like the curved cock stuffing her cunt was enough to leave her boneless. “Creepy Doctor Convinces Young Asian Medical Intern to Fuck to Get Ahead” - what an odd title you remark internally.

You scrolled lower with two fingers on the track pad as if it’d get interesting - you knew it wouldn’t, but you couldn’t help feeling curious at what other people jerk off to. “Amateur FOURSOME have FUN. Rough, wet, & sloppy” was what caught your eyes next by the sheer visual it played out as a preview. Two girls were slobbering on two separate weeping cocks. Blinding porn lighting harsh against their faces as they forced their heads down it with overdone expressions. You knew it didn’t feel good. Not when he’s rubbing her labia like a DJ. Not when he’s pistoning in her like he’s a horse in heat with no tempo whatsoever. Were you being way too tough on porn production? Unreasonably so.

Just like you’re programmed in your line of codes, you typed out his channel next.

“Wicked Fantasies”

His channel popped up on top with 150K subscribers, 4.1K friends, and 50.7M video views. For a minute, your mind raced to imagine if you’d stood out to him compared to the rest of his 149.999 subscribers. If he'd like you. If you're pretty enough to join his selected pick of co-stars. It’s stupid, you’re painfully aware, to fantasize about getting personal with a porn actor. You shook the silly thought away immediately as you slowly glided your fingers across your touchpad to admire his works. He was just so.. breathtaking in every single video despite the lack of face in some. A diverse line of co-stars - pale, tanned, dark - did nothing but help put his devilish charms forth.

You let your fingers stroke the inside of your thigh, the part that’s lightly exposed. It’s shameful to admit that you’ve watched all his videos, but you did. Each and every one of them with no fail. Despite the familiarity, every footage presented on his page does nothing but rile you up, sending you to a frenzied madness. You let out a small longing sigh. Your gentle fingers slowly brush over the thin material of your panties, over your throbbing hole, feeling the moisture grow there.

“20 year old Babysitter takes a rough fucking for extra cash Watch her face when it goes in!” appealed to you more than anything. Partially because you’d wish you could babysit his children if it meant you’d be able to get that kind of method of transaction, you practically salivate at the thought alone. The preview played. Short clips compiled together to compel watchers and god damn was it working. Your breath grew shallow as if the oxygen surrounding you was as good as solid matter. Still, you worked your way down the page to evaluate all your options thoroughly.

“Please cum in my pussy. Sweet May earns a huge creampie after a deep sensual fucking” was what you settled with. His promise was what drew you in, to cum in her pussy and show his masterpiece. The way you clicked onto the title was feverish, even more when you had it on full screen. Your laptop was cushioned on a haphazard of pillows, allowing you to get into a more accommodating position. You laid on your side, before shuffling off your shorts from the waist band. A nervous puff of air barely escaped your lips as you clicked play.

The video ran.

Your throat bobbed nervously.

His videos were always edited in a way that shows his age. Cursive letters noting down his and his co-star’s name - with a font you knew only people over the age of thirty would use - entered your screen for a split second before it quickly cuts off to another scene. What you could only describe as a reassuring grunt seeped through your cable earphones and onto your nerve receptors, causing your hole to twitch impatiently.

You could see him clearly now.

Well, not all that clear, but you could see his half hard cock prodding the girl’s soft lips. Her dirty blonde hair framed her face prettily as she took him in with such expertise. He molded her mouth to the shape of his cock - slow but sure - right to the very hilt, before pulling her back out. A sloppy wet trail left behind to gleam under the dim lights. It’s incredibly sensual, none of the obviously fake porny moans in motion, and it left you wondering if he’d morph your chaste mouth to the size of his as well. Would he like that?

Another scene cuts through the view. This time he was gently running his calloused fingers down her core, barely over the thick stripe of hair, then it went over her hip bone and back to her thighs. May, who you knew by heart from all the videos she had with him, didn’t say a word. Not even a small hitch in her breath. If you were there, you’d sure to be a whimpering mess just by him touching. Just by that throaty chuckle he lets out when he's amused.

You’re five minutes into the video when he finally relieved you of your suffering. He was on his knees, bending her pliant body down on her fours. His large hands gripped over the skin on May’s hip for support as he sheathed himself in one go. It went deep, you know that for sure from the way she let out a satisfied moan. Her face contorted when he pulled back and thrusted all the way in once more. You could feel it now; the way your pelvis spasmed at the sight even when you’re barely hovering your palm over your clothed center. She was the one getting fucked, but you could feel his phantom thrust pounding slowly. Over and over again.

He was cut off right by the shoulder, but he made an appearance when he slightly leaned down to gather her hair into a loose bundle and he was a dream. Dark hair with light speckles of grays you could barely make out from the quality of the video. His brown eyes pierced into the camera - as if he’s watching your needy expression, making fun of the way you couldn’t help but rub your fingers over your sensitive nub because God does it feel good. It sent shivers right down your spine,

You were entirely sure he was trying to edge you, because the next scene had you bucking your knees forward to add that extra pressure. He had May down on her back with his camera hovering over her, capturing the way in which he forced his way in. His ruddy tip nudged her hole as if it was a gentle knock to a neighbor’s door. It wasn’t enough anymore, you had to pull your panties to the side. With your bare cunt exposed, you gently tapped your clit with the tip of your finger, feeling the sensitivity start to build at the directness.

Your unoccupied hand slowly slipped under your shirt, tracing over your oversensitive skin before it nestled around your nipple, squeezing and running your fingers right on the center of the hardened lump. May didn’t even resemble you, but you could fantasize yourself in her position. He abandoned the camera spotlighting his close-ups to bend her in a nicer position. With her legs up together facing the ceiling above them, in order to create a nice tightness for him to make use of. May bit her thumb in exchange. A chorus of soft, feather-light feminine moans followed his every move. You could hear him now, breathing terribly unstable as he found a way to insert himself deeper.

“Such a smart girl,” he whispered.

He had her in a mating press. His large forearm supported the rock of his hips and you obsessed over it, how it’d perhaps feel when he held her by the thighs. How it’d feel if it found its way around your neck to constrict it, to choke you as he bullied his cock in your leaking pussy. You let your pointer finger spread the slickness down your heat, making its rounds around your clit, before probing it right inside. Just one because that's all you managed to get confident in. The cushy feeling was way too familiar for you and you wished it was someone else’s finger - maybe a larger one like Wicked Fantasies’ - but you’re well grateful with yours.

“Yeah. You like it deep?”

He asked with that Texan twang of his. The teasing lilt of his voice does well to compliment the skillful way in which he stretched May’s hole. You could barely see him in frame, but you’d catch glimpses of his boyish grin each time. It drove you to pump your finger faster, In and out, in and out, steady to the way he moved his hips.

“You feel it in your tummy?”

He attempted once again, but the helpless girl could only moan out a barely there response. You were reacting frantically though. So turned on by the sight alone that you had to dig your canines onto the tender skin of your hand. You wanted him so badly, it’s making you spill all over. Slick ran down your thighs to your unmade bed, drool spread across your hand as you continued to muffle out your pathetic noises.

“Please cum in my pussy,” May could hardly whimper. The desperation in her voice made you grind your pelvis onto your palm in an equally desperate manner.

“You want me to cum in your pussy? Want me to fill you up?”

Yes, please, please fill me up, plagued your mind. You curled your fingers inside, a pathetic attempt to stroke that sweet spot inside.

Over and over again as the man in the video groaned lowly. When he let out an almost animalistic growl to end his rodeo, you faltered quickly. Your leg twitched as your orgasm began to taper. Quickly like a full sweep on a bowling course, knocking down all that’s left of your dignity. You managed to keep your voice low, but you couldn’t say the same about the absurd amount of wetness soiling your bed sheets. The scene cut off to him showing off his pearlescent load deep inside of her and it almost made you cum a second time.

Wicked Fantasies had 149.999 other subscribers, but you’re sure you were the filthiest out of all of them.

Austin was nothing like you’d expect. The vibrant blue van you’ve rode in for an entire day or so slowly rolled to a stop in front of a classic suburban home. Empty roads and loud calls of cockerels audible even from within the confines of metal walls. The van’s engine hummed softly as it idled, tinted windows reflecting the honeyed rays of the morning sun. This was your stop. A house of character with an eye-catching letter eleven hammered sloppily down the porch, a lone pick-up truck parked right down the center, and a red mailbox that was stuffed to the very brim with spam.

As you stepped out, you were quickly enveloped by warm air, causing beads to form evidently on your forehead. The humid climate was a good reminder that you’ve stepped into another realm, a new page to your life which held Texas’ scorching sun and faint whiffs of leather. You looked rather.. constipated standing on the very end of the driveway. Like a knock-off salesman with a large tote slung over your left shoulder and a suitcase tight against your right. The look on your face didn’t help either, a concoction of sleep deprived and nervous.

You willed yourself to march towards the front porch.

That went well.

What came next was to knock and you swore you get entirely weak in the knees when the realization came sweeping in.

After a series of pacing back-and-forth and tugging at both ends of your lips to train a polite smile on, you knocked on the large front door. Once. Twice. Then, one last time. Wooden doors always sound incredibly heavy and imposing, you cringed at the mere sound.

A few hurried thuds echoed to where you’re standing and you’ve never felt more desperate to make a run for it before someone made it to the front door. What if they’re a sleazy nasty couple who’d want to traffic you into some weird foot-fetish chain? What if they’re a pair of delusional flat earth believers that unironically declined the existence of climate change? What if-

The door swung open in one grand motion.

You had always been a pessimist - the world always seems to fuck you up in the most creative way possible - but what met your gaze was a young girl. Her hair was like coils of pure earth, softly reflecting the light of the sun; each curl trembled subtly in a humid breeze, a compliment to her doe eyes. She greeted you with a gentle smile. One that speaks language the two of you understood without fail. In return, you tilted your head in a friendly manner as you adorned a sheepish look.

“Hey. You’re the exchange student, right? Come inside!” She invited you in with an astonishing amount of energy considering it’s barely past six. “I’ve been waiting for you all morning, y’know.”

You nodded surely as you awkwardly shimmied your way around her lithe figure. It’s taking all of you to not do a full head-to-toe scan of what she looks like out of sheer curiosity, but you thrive in the short glances you could catch of her. Was she the daughter in this family? It’d be nice to have someone you could relate to, maybe.. maybe you could even paint your nails together and relish in fun girly activities.

“Sorry. Our van broke down on the highway,” you gave your lousy excuse.

“No need. My dad’s not even up yet,” she spoke with a small sigh. Her long fingers massaged circles on her knotted temple as if emphasizing her irritation. “Just put your bags down here. I’ll sort ‘em out for you this afternoon.”

With her confirmation in mind, you pushed your suitcase over to one side of the hallway, along with the tote which weighed more than you do. Without the accessories you’ve been holding onto from the very start of your trip, you felt naked and exposed. Unsure of how to position your arms and legs. It wasn’t a good look, but you stood entirely still like a Barbie display. Both of your eyes stared down at the younger girl as she swayed her hips to the light music, cooking up something skillfully with the flip of her hand.

“What’s your name?”

“Sarah. Sarah Miller. I know what yours is from my dad,” she looked over her shoulder cheekily.

“Sarah’s a nice name.”

“Is it? I think it sounds aggressively Texan. Like I’d go yeehaw, howdy young lady with cowboy boots and a good plaid shirt on,” she chuckled. “Oh and then I’d lasso you real good.”

Her remarks were as refreshing as a summer breeze even when they’re a tad bit snarky. You already knew that she’s going to get along incredibly well with you. Witnessing her shimmy her shoulders carelessly made you unaware of the heavy thump steadily making its way down the stairs.

“There’s the genius who landed me the name,” Sarah whistled out, pulling you out of your hazy daze.

You turned your head in a one-eighty motion, every last inch of self-control being betrayed at the motion of being finally able to see the man who’d house you. The head of the house who’d you continue to see for the rest of the year. There was a lot of expectation you bore on your shoulders, but what fell beneath your eyes exceeded everything. You weren’t even doing a good job in pretending you’re not entirely taken aback, wide-eyes bulged out of your sockets and you looked more like a cartoon sheep more than anything.

He was beautiful.

“Hey, babygirl,” he greeted Sarah with that rugged voice of his. You could hear the weight of his step as he made his way over to his daughter. Every move that he made, even the part where he hastily tucked his shirt in his worn-out jeans, made your blood drain. At his arrival, he wrapped his large forearm around her shoulders before landing a sweet kiss on top of her head.

“Our guest has arrived, hm?”

“Yes. You were rude not to greet her in front of our door,” Sarah protested openly as she took hold of the plates she cooked up. She made a double trip from the kitchen to the dining table for the first time in forever since they’re finally upgrading to a three person party.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he offered her a gentle apology before taking a seat in front of the piping hot plates. His legs spread out enough to occupy two leg spaces, though he was left in a masculine position that was charming enough to have you forgive the action. Sarah placed a carton of orange juice on the table aggressively. Some of the containings spurted out and left a pooling mess right by his plate.

“No coffee for you today, dad,” she huffed. Sarah was impatient in starting her breakfast, cutleries already in hand as she dug into the charred sausages.

That was until she realized that you were still standing there on the edge of the room, as out-of-place as ever, looking down at the two as if you’re watching a live sitcom show.

“You’re invited to breakfast too, y’know,” she laughed good-naturedly.

“Oh yeah. Sorry,” you muttered out a brief apology at that before making your way over to the empty seat between the two Millers.

For once, you hoped Sarah wasn’t observant enough to notice the way in which you had your eyes stuck to Mr. Miller’s face with every step that you took. He had the kind of face that stopped people in their tracks. You guessed he must get used to that, the sudden pause in a person's natural expression when they looked his way followed by overcompensating with a weak, embarrassed smile. It didn't help that he wasn’t so modest with it. You weren’t sure if you’re imagining things, but you swore his every movement held intention. What his intention was you couldn’t figure out just yet.

“So you’re in your third year of college?” He attempted small talk. You knew it was small talk, but the way he looked in your eyes with such grave intensity had you faltering.

“Yeah. I am.”

“Thought I’d bring a college gal in to bring good influence to this naughty daughter of mine,” he grinned. “She’s been slackin’ off as of lately.”

Sarah beamed him a petulant pout, in which he responded with a handsome smile. His dark brown hair bounced around seamlessly and for a second, just for a split second, he looked rather.. familiar. Was he an old neighbor of yours by chance?

“What d’ya major in?”

“Computer science. I know. Real nerdy, but I swear I’m not a nerd,” you explained before stuffing your mouth with a generous amount of scrambled eggs.

“I don’t know. You’re not all that believable,” Sarah teased. “Bet you read weird comic books for a hobby.”

You jutted out your lips playfully at her response, which earned a hearty set of snickers from your side. Mr. Miller was thoroughly amused by the banter you’ve played out in front of him and in response, blessed you with an array of gruff chuckles. One in which you swore you’ve heard before. The memory was right there on the back of your head, but you could barely reach out for it at the moment.

“Such a smart girl,” he spoke mindlessly.

It was the exact phrase that made your mind slot in the last piece of puzzle to what you’ve been searching for, a reason of why you think he was oddly familiar when you knew for a fact that he lived miles away from you. You weren’t hallucinating, nor were you delusional.

You knew him.

Far better than you knew anyone else.

He was the man you’ve been watching every day of the week, whether in the depth of the evening or the early mornings. He was the exact man you’ve fantasized for years on end, stuffing your pussy with your fingers or even your toothbrush if you’re feeling adventurous to the thought of him ravaging you. You knew every part of his body, every beauty mark and calluses. You knew which things he liked the most, how he enjoyed being licked on his tip or how he enjoyed plunging into the very hilt. You knew the noises and praises he’d let out.

You knew him in the foulest manner possible.

“Are you okay?” Sarah’s voice brought you back into the real world. The world in which you’re sitting across your porn star crush, eating a good plate of breakfast as if everything is normal.

“Yeah,” you breathed out the palpable tension.

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

pls reblog n comment if u enjoyed this!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #the last of us fic #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller #tlou #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader

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luckycharms1701 · 3 months

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Oh, please, I must know now… Donnie during mating season??? :D I’m loving ur writings about this :)

alright you thirsty purple fans, it’s time!

sidenote: i am. so glad. that people are enjoying these. they’re a lot of fun to write!

double sidenote: i have added a link to my masterpost to all my bayverse mating season headcanons! you can also find them here

sooooo donnie. he's a freak in the sheets, you cannot change my mind. so especially strong spicy warning for this one 🌶️

Donnie is extremely matter of fact about mating season. The first time he brings it up with you, he’s more nervous about your answer than he is shy about explaining what it entails. (You couldn’t hear the words, but you did hear him muttering to himself before he came up to ask you. You suspect it was a pep talk.) He is very thorough when explaining mating season in general and how it affects him in particular. You are grateful and also a little turned on by the time he’s done.

Before you were in the picture, Donnie used to work himself until his system overloaded and he passed out during this time. Now he finds himself working a lot less, because he has you to focus on. He appreciates that you make him spend more time on leisure and don’t let him overwork himself. He also appreciates that you do let him work at least a little when the desire hits. Getting to cuddle with you is a surefire way to get him to rest when he needs it though. As long as you’re nearby, he’s happy to do whatever.

Donnie is a talker in general, but it gets ramped up to 100 when it’s his season. Unless his mouth is busy doing… other things… it’s basically a 24/7 stream of consciousness fest. Mostly it’s about you. How much he loves you, what in particular he loves about you, how exactly he wants to make love to you. His morning star, his starlight, his celestial beauty. Sometimes, though, he’ll interrupt himself to talk about something that just occurred to him about one of his projects. It never fails to pull a laugh out of you and make him rub the back of his neck in (adorable) embarrassment.

He enjoys physical affection and often seeks it out from you, and this holds true during his season. He won’t whine or get grumpy if you don’t want to be touching him all the time (*cough* like his brothers will *cough*), but he does prefer if you’re in contact with him somehow. He enjoys watching movies with your head on his lap and your hand in his. He especially likes it when you're on top of him.

Donnie is used to just taking care of himself whenever necessary, AND he is used to handling delicate things during his season. So there is a lot of gentle manhandling when the time comes. You can't do anything particularly engaging because he will come up and interrupt you whenever to have sex. IF you are wearing clothes at all (not often), you cannot wear underwear or pants, at most a skirt. That way he can just lift it up and enter you whenever the urge hits. He is especially fond of doing this when you're sitting on his lap while he's working (... "daddy's little cockwarmer").

Having you around does not mean that all of his toys go unused, oh no. He is very considerate, and would rather resort to them when you're getting rest. (He got your permission to stare at you while you slept and he used his toys. So considerate.) He also came up with some new toys that the two of you can use together. Having toys custom designed for your pleasure? Well. It really adds to the experience of mating season.

He likes to take his time and study you. He is always coming to you with a new experience he wants to try. He does get a lot of pleasure out of trying new things, but he mostly just wants to know how you'll react. He is intimately familiar with your body and how it reacts, and he wants to see if those reactions hold true when different stimuli are applied. His prodigious brain is always working. He particularly likes when something catches you off guard and a surprised gasp comes out of your mouth.

Donnie is not overtly possessive, even in his season. But there is always one hickey very carefully placed somewhere noticeable that you can't cover easily. He knows just how much force to use to leave an imprint of his hands without hurting you more than you enjoy. And if he catches someone looking at you? You will probably be walking a little funny the next day. When he ties you up (he enjoys tying you up. a lot.), he'll take a minute to sit back and observe you, pleasuring himself to thoughts of how you belong to him the same way he belongs to you.

When his season is over, his favorite thing to do is cuddle with you while the both of you sleep it off. He won't leave the bed, not even to work, until he deems you fully rested. (He will work in bed while you sleep on his plastron though.) His second favorite thing to do is bathe you. He takes his time to make sure every inch of you is clean and cared for. It's a lot like going to a spa, because Donnie did a lot of research into spas so that he could replicate that experience for you. And if you give him a little pampering in return? You'll get to hear him chirp and churr in complete satisfaction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

head bonks: @yorshie @avery73 @justalotoffanfiction @thejudiciousneurotic

#bayverse donnie #bayverse donnie x reader #tmnt #talking tag #theory tag #mating season #*blows kiss to all the donnie fans out there*#couldn't be me #i definitely haven't spent the past three days thinking about his thighs. and his biceps. and his teeth. his tongue...#ANYWAY #special shoutout to yorshie's 'donnie's working music' playlist for making this a lot easier to write than it would have been otherwise lol #i really hope this was worth the wait i uh struggled a bit to focus on him and keep him in my head. the mikey brainrot is Really Strong #mr. fearless leader angsty boy is next that'll be fun

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catboybiologist · 3 months

Text

About to fall asleep ramble time, this has been kicking around in my brain for a bit and I need to get some form of this thought out

I was diagnosed with ADHD and gender dysphoria one day after the other back in August. Extremely stereotypically zillenial of me, I know. Handling both of these has dramatically improved my quality of life. yes yes insert discourse about how much you need to have dysphoria as a diagnosis, it's just a tool for the medical system that's ultimately meaningless, that's not what this is about.

There's one thing that was really, really weird about the experience of getting care for both of these.

Most treatment and public talk of transition and motivations to transition are about misery. How much despair your birth sex gives you and how gender affirming care is the only stopgap against suicide (oftentimes, used as a barrier to entry that it should only be given when it's at the suicidal point). How crushing dysphoria is.

In contrast, most of the public perception of ADHD is this cutesy, "omg look I'm so quirky" kind of thing. People talk of ADHD "superpowers" and how neat it is to have hyperfixations (I'm low key starting to dislike that word, even though it's an accurate description of many things- it's very overused).

My actual experience has been almost exactly the opposite.

I absolutely had gender dysphoria, and still do, and misery associated with being AMAB. But is that what defines my trans experience? No, and in fact, it feels like a more incidental blip in it. My trans experience has mostly been defined by joy, by feeling my mind and body slowly make me more and more content with my default existence day after day. And the exploration of it all! The social roles, the romantic dynamics, the friendship dynamics, even small aesthetics like clothes and makeup, and again, the body and mood changes. It's incredible and it brings me joy so much of the time. That, more than anything, has defined my trans experience.

In contrast.... ADHD has objectively made nearly every aspect of my life more miserable. Working with my therapist and my pysch, as well as feeling what it's like to be properly medicated, have shown me extremely well how much the constant feelings of misery I always seemed to have were caused by ADHD. ADHD means being unable to receive a baseline level of dopamine to function under normal circumstances, so your brain starts looking for any way it can get new sources. And wouldn't ya know it, novel stimuli are a perfect way to do that. Keep in mind that dopamine isn't just "the pleasure molecule" it's a neurotransmitter with a broad range of functions. If you don't have ADHD, or even if you do, I want you to think about how miserable of an existence that is. Your default state is depression and inability to do things. It has been for me for most of my life. Additionally, anxieties creep into your head and distract you far more easily. You're less functional. You can't do simple things most of the time. You're distracted and have anxiety spikes easily. Continuous tasks are hard. And day in, day out... You are miserable. Almost constantly.

Oh also, you're easily addicted to extreme novel stimuli. For me, it was self harm. And when that stopped working... Well, I was in a state of mostly background depression that was only punctuated by spikes of massive, overwhelming anxiety that my brain hooked itself on. At a certain point, I just wanted it to end, by any means necessary.

It's been almost ten years since that day, and at this point I can genuinely say that I'm glad I'm still here.

But it wasn't dysphoria that did that (it contributed a bit, but still wasn't the biggest factor). Or a depressive disorder. Or bipolar. Or whatever the big, more "scary" mental illnesses or neurodivergencies are. They tried to treat me for some of them, and it ended horribly. My symptoms fit mixed presentation ADHD perfectly, including my physiological response to stimulants. They don't fit anything else. I likely don't have any strong comorbidities, unless you count the symptom-level anxiety and depression. ADHD did all of that to me. The "cute and quirky" one.

By the time I got around to a diagnosis, my pysch was astounded that I made it as far as I did with symptoms as severe as mine. Tackling ADHD has removed so much misery from my life, it's indescribable. Adderall has been the only thing that has ever actually gotten rid of my constant anxiety.

It's not fucking cute. Keeping with this being the flip side to my dysphoria, I do try to keep it light most of the time, and I join in on all of the classic "whoopsie doopsie my ADHD" trains and jokes. You don't have to stop making those, hell, they're fun. There are cute and funny parts to having ADHD, and ways it's made my personality what it is. But don't forget that this is also something that makes people genuinely suffer well beyond the "oopsie I'm such a procrastinator!!!" Type thing.

Idk where this thought is going. It's just kind of an observation that's been kicking around in my head for a bit. So uh. Hope it at least generates discussion? Feel free to add your experiences if you think it'll help you. But fuck I need to sleep lol

#trans #adhd #cw self harm #cw suicide

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