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still-a-morosexual-help · 8 months

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honestly tho om lucifer is such a comfort character

you know mammon's my all time all around favourite no contest but like

lucifer just hits different

he's so tired and he's so overworked and he loves his family so much it makes me sick he's willing to kill and die for them at any chance he made the misfits of the celestial realm his family despite being the perfect example of an angel himself he thinks his brothers are adorable he just wants them to have one quiet day

he's such a bastard he's arrogant and prideful and he'll willingly meow like a little kitty cat because his boybestfriend is sad

he's got daddy issues he's terrified he's traumatised his greatest fear is his father he spent years fighting a pointless war and never questioned his father about whether they ever even tried to find a way to end the war without just mindlessly trying to kill people who really aren't that different from them for a reason no one knows he's willing to be given piggyback rides by another high profile man in a public area

he's a dog person he's weak to puppy dog eyes from everyone he cares about he's constantly done with Mephisto's shit he gets jealous because one of his friends complimented their mutual friend's cookies

he's willing to villainize himself in the eyes of his family to keep them safe he's sadistic his first response to being cornered and scared is to kill anyone who's making him feel that way his love language with his brothers is being a little shit to them he's somehow connected to/the starting point of all the issues/trauma his brothers have he has empty nest syndrome even though all his brothers live at home he hasn't realised the extent to which his actions and words have fucked up his brothers and is constantly surprised and devastated by it when he realises

he has a son he pretends is his brother whom he only ever canonically acknowledged as his son twice which led to huge blowout fights one of his younger brothers bullies him into going to the pub with them once a week his son runs a club with his youngest brother dedicated solely to making his life miserable

he's sadistic he genuinely enjoys seeing people suffer he's so polite he'll allow himself to be poisoned by food he knows is bad he bought dinner for a whole restaurant because it was the owner's birthday he wore a silly outfit and worked at a themed restaurant as a favour for a friend he gets visibly more aroused when he's ordered around he insults his brothers but gets upset whenever an outsider does the same

he loves his human so much and he's so annoyed at them he's so frustrated with them he's so angry at them and he's so worried about them so protective of them so incredibly proud of them he has tried to kill them many many times

he's a borderline alcoholic he's immortal he's greying he gets migraines he forgets to eat and he sleeps at his desk he does the mom thing and orders takeout for his children when he goes out to eat without them he likes dad jokes his greatest wish is to visit a factory he likes good socks he's a grumpy old man

he's over 10 million years old he's an eldritch horror he's the personification of the sin of pride he needs glasses to read his childhood friend? ex-boyfriend? kind-of-brother? old coworker? brother in arms? calls him luci

he's a naggy paranoid perfectionist he removed the entire bathroom because one of his brothers forgot to clean it he had to literally be kidnapped to send him on a vacation he ripped out multiple sets of his own wings he doesn't like being seen shirtless he lectured jason voorhees about him not killing efficiently enough

he's a respected and recognised drag queen he believes love is love he's canonically so beautiful but no one ever makes a move on him because the whole realm thinks he's in a committed long term relationship he refuses to believe his best friend is in love with him despite multiple people saying so

he's the type of person you want to please the type of person you want to make proud the type of person you want on your side because you know no matter what he'll always have your back you're safe that as long as he's there everything will be okay the type of person you want to be held by while everything is falling down around you

he's even queer

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viennakarma · 8 months

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After you

Fernando Alonso x reader

Summary: There's a life before becoming Fernando's sugar baby and there's a life after becoming his sugar baby.

Word count: 2.7k

Tags: Smut, female reader, +18, sex (p in v), unprotected sex, established relationship, sugar baby x sugar daddy, Dom!Nando, little breath play (choking), spanking, face slap, a bit of dirty talking, degradation, overuse of pet names (bc it's spanish duh!), big age gap (reader is early 20s, in college), everything implicitly consensual, not beta read

Note: i'd like to start by saying you nando fuckers were right and these 3 fernando media (see above) changed my life forever, thank you. gentle reminder that english is not my first language (so please bear any mistake), I'm also considering taking requests for F1 drabbles and oneshots, would anyone be interested?

Find me on Twitter!

As soon as you enter the flat, you take off your overcoat and leave it behind the door. You go to your room, but you stop when you see several gift boxes laying on the floor beside the bed, which you recognize the brands, Tiffany, La Perla, Chanel, among others. But you feel exhausted from college finals and you leave the boxes behind and head straight for the bathroom.

Eight months ago, when you lived in a tiny dorm on campus, working two shifts beyond university to pay for your studies, all these brands used to be a distant luxury you would never afford on your own.

But there was a life before becoming Fernando Alonso's sugar baby; and another one after all that.

Now you have a nice, comfortable, luxurious apartment close to campus, your university is fully paid for months in advance, and you don't have to use the dorm's communal bathroom. It sometimes feels like a dream and you think you're going to wake up back in that moment much earlier.

You fill the bathtub and take off your clothes, looking in the mirror, you see two hickey marks near your breasts. Fernando was mindful not to leave marks in visible places. You step into the tub and allow yourself to be enveloped by the scented salts and bubble soap. You rub yourself slowly, pushing away all the tiredness and stress of the entire day, using the shower gel that Fernando liked on you.

After scrubbing yourself down, you step out of the shower wrapped in a fluffy robe. You dry your hair with the dryer, and head back to the bedroom.

On top of the gifts there is a note that you missed before.

“To my girl, I know you worked really hard to do well on your finals. Enjoy your gifts. See you tonight, cariño. - Fernando"

You open Tiffany’s blue box first, it's the smallest one. Contains a pair of star-shaped diamond earrings, and a silver necklace with a matching pendant. You smile when you realize that it's been eight months and he already knows your taste for clothes and accessories. The second box you open is a Coco de Mer, a lingerie brand. With two pairs of lingerie inside, both in lace, one black, with stockings and garter belt and the other red, transparent with ribbons that cross the abdomen.

Getting out of bed, you pull on the black one, adjust the stocking on the garter belt and hang the robe in the bathroom again, staring at your reflection in the mirror, barely registering the messy young misfit you were just months ago.

The other boxes mostly contain clothes and accessories. Pants, skirts, dresses, handbags, wallets and backpacks. After taking a look at everything, you take the pieces to the closet and leave them on the chair to arrange later.

Then you hear the sound of the front door opening and you know it's Fernando. You lay down on the bed and wait for him. Lying on your stomach with your butt in the air, you look at Fernando when he enters. He's not wearing his team shirt, he's just wearing a white shirt and denim pants. He stares at your body, but your eyes settle on a box in his hand, he puts the box, his phone and wallet on the bedside table. He smiles, moving closer and bending over to leave a gentle bite on your ass. His masculine scent envelops you and you feel the urge to rip his clothes off and push him on the bed, and ride his cock until the sun comes up tomorrow.

“Hi, bebé,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your temple, “How were the exams?” he asks as he sits on the king size bed, his back against the headboard. He pats his own thigh, and you quickly crawl up, onto his lap sitting facing him. You hope he feels your underwear wet with anticipation.

“Thermodynamics was easy, but Quantum Physics, not so much,” you say, as he opens the box that you know as one of Belgian chocolates, your favorite.

“You’ve studied so hard for both, so I think you'll do well,” he says, pulling out a chocolate with almonds from the box. With his other hand, he grips your hip.

He brings the chocolate up to your mouth and you take a bite, wiggling in his lap as the chocolate melts in your mouth.

“You did so well on your test last week,” he compliments, and his gentle tone turns you on even more. You feel his fingers making way inside the lace of your panties and you hold on to his shoulders, keeping your balance and granting more access to you.

He takes another chocolate from the box and takes a bite of it as his fingers find your pussy. Fernando rubs his index and middle fingers, spreading your wetness. You melt into his arms and place your hand on the back of his neck. He gives you the second piece of chocolate at the same time as his fingers penetrate you. You're so wet, his fingers slide easily inside, massaging your pussy calmly, oh so calmly that you roll your hips into his fingers, trying to make him go faster.

“Quiet, princesa,” he commands, and you stop the hip movement. He shoves the fingers that were holding the chocolate into your mouth, and you suck hard until his fingers are clean.

His other hand, the one inside your panties, you feel keeping the maddening slow pace, completely ignoring the need for relief in your clit. You slide a hand down your belly to bring it to your clit, but he takes your hand away and cups your chin, a possessive look in his brown-almost-green eyes.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?" he asks brusquely, and you just stare at him. “Eh? Did I?”

“No,” you reply huskily, knowing he can feel you getting even wetter at his firm tone. He slaps your cheek, and your pussy throbs around his fingers, you can see in his eyes that he feels it. And he absolutely loves it.

“No, what?” he says, a smug smirk on his face.

“No, sir.” you say and he strokes the cheek he slapped. Fernando takes your chin and pulls your lips to his. He kisses you obscenely, with lips and tongue and his face inching up against yours.

“I know your week has been pretty stressful, then behave yourself so you can get your reward, okay?” he says in a gentle tone, finally picking up the speed of his fingers and pushing the palm of his hand against your swollen clit. You whimper, holding a moan in your throat and the urge to move your hips to keep pace with him and come faster, but you hold back.

Then Fernando's phone rings, interrupting the two of you. He lets the phone ring, and you groan when his other hand grips your hip tightly, squeezing your ass. The phone stops ringing, but then it rings again.

“No, Nando, please… Don't answer it, Papi” you whimper, already feeling his fingers stop stimulating you. He grabs your hips and places you to the side, back on the bed.

“So needy, bebé,” he mutters, biting softly on your chin before getting up, “I need to pick this call, babygirl. Won’t be long, yeah?” He grumbles, taking the phone from the nightstand. you watch as Fernando answers, muttering “Alonso speaking,” as he leaves the room.

Frustrated, you lie back on the mattress and stare at the ceiling, knowing he's probably going to take longer than he said he would. He always took long calls about his team, or his car, or whatever. It's almost involuntary as your hands slide down your abdomen and you rub your thighs together to get some friction. With your hands, you gently pinch your nipples through the lace of your bra, feeling a hypersensitive moan escape your lips. You slide your hands and press your clit over the wet panties, just looking for some relief while he doesn’t come back.

The need for release is stronger than you are as you slide your hand inside your panties, circling your clit with pressure, gasping.

At that moment, Fernando re-enters the room, and you quickly remove your hand. But the furious look on his face tells you he already caught you red handed. Heart racing, you watch as he clicks his tongue in a reproving gesture. He walks into the closet and returns with a pair of leather cuffs.

“I thought I made myself clear…” he murmurs, yanking hard on your wrists to get you to your feet, “You only touch yourself with my permission.”

You swallow hard when he cups your face and then slaps you across the face. You bite your bottom lip, smiling. He takes your wrists and secures them with the restraints, behind your back. Fernando slaps you again, and you feel the wetness pool in your panties.

“You love it, don't you?” He smirked with another slap. “Being treated like the slut you are. My slut. Knees on the floor,” he commands, his tone doesn't leave space for anything other than obedience.

His firm touch on the back of your neck compels you down until your knees meet the floor. You feel your mouth water as he starts struggling with his own belt, undoing the buttons on his pants just enough to pull his cock out. You immediately wet your lips and open your mouth, expecting to feel him on your tongue.

He shoves his cock into your mouth all at once, almost reaching your throat, and you have to control your gagging, eyes immediately watering.

“Open wide, babygirl” he gasps, taking control of slowly sliding into your mouth. He massages your face, as if to relax your jaw further. “Yes, just like that” he moans softly as he touches your throat.

He holds your head, keeping you still as the only movement is in his hips, his cock fucking your mouth. As you adjust to the volume of him moving in and out of your mouth, he picks up speed and you feel saliva wetting his entire length and running down the side of your mouth, dripping to your chin.

“Want me to fuck you, huh?” he asks but doesn't release you from his cock so you're able to answer. “Want to cum, bebé?”

He doesn’t let you go, nor does he take his cock out of your mouth. So you just hum around him, the vibration of your voice making him let out a groan.

“I don't know…” He pretends to think a little, his hips stuttering. “You disobeyed me, didn't you? I don't think you've earned your reward yet.”

He pulls his cock away from your mouth, and you watch a trail of saliva break from the distance. You close your mouth, taking the opportunity to relax your jaw.

“¿Cuál es tu color? (what's your color?)” he asks, his voice going immediately tender, looking down on you.

“Verde. (green)”

“Up you go” Fernando points to the bed as he removes the belt from the cases of his pants, and you quickly get to your feet and throw yourself face down on the mattress, your arms still pinned behind you. “On all fours” He commands and you obey, the top of your head pressed into the pillow and your ass in the air.

You feel his fingers gently rub up and down on your hips, and then he finally removes your panties. Not an instant later, you feel the belt snap on your ass, stinging.

“What did you do wrong, princesa?” he asks, then hits you with the belt once again, making you shiver.

“I touched myrself without-” you cut yourself off with a mewl when you feel the crackle of the burning leather belt again, “-Without your-” Two consecutive hits make you whimper against the pillow, but you keep going, because you know that if you stop, he will start your punishment again, “-Without your permission" you complete, panting loudly. He hits you three more times and you feel like you could come with just one touch on your clit.

“Without your permission, who?” And two more cracks of the leather against your asscheeks. The frustration of wanting to come is so great that you feel your abdomen trembling.

“Without your permission, sir!” you almost scream, desperate. So thirsty for his touch you know you’re dripping with desire and ruining the sheets.

“I don't know…” He says, as if he's thinking out loud as his hands caress your buttocks, “Do you think you deserve to come?"

“Yes please! Nando please! I want it so bad, papi…” you don't feel ashamed to beg, when your body so badly needs relief, something only he can give you.

You feel him move behind you, and a second later, his cock fills you in one movement, making you scream his name into the pillow.

“Oh, always perfect for me…” He groans, pulling out only to slam back in again. His hands secure the restraint on your wrists, your hands manage to touch his forearm and you sink your nails into his skin for balance.

Your eyes roll in your head, pleasure consuming you like flames as his hips keep pounding into you, and you feel grateful for his demanding exercises routine from motorsports, because it makes his stamina last so long. You feel hypersensitive, like you can feel the friction in every molecule in your body, the pleasure in your pussy and he just keeps going, Fernando’s groaning louder by the second.

You feel when the orgasm approaches, that tingling in your body and your pussy contracting desperately. But then he stops, withdrawing his cock. You whimper in desperation, the orgasm slipping away again.

“Fernando, please! Please, I need you…” you scream as he plunges into you, so deep he takes your breath away for an instant. One of his hands grips your hips and the other travels up your spine until it closes around the back of your neck.

Then he circles his hand around your neck and pulls you up until you're on your knees, your hips pressed against his as he thrusts harder, making your tits bounce with the movement. The only thing separating his chest from your back is the grip on your wrists between your bodies.

“Please, Nando! I’m so close- can- can I cum?”

“Go on, you can cum. I want to feel it,” he orders, squeezing your throat, obstructing your breathing slightly. It’s his accented voice that pushes you off the cliff, the orgasm finally seizing you so hard you see stars in your vision, shivering as he holds you firmly up.

Your orgasm soon makes him come too, his groan in your ear as his hips push against you, slowing down as he fills you up.

When Fernando lets go of your neck, you fall limp on the bed, face first against the pillows. You feel his fingers release you from the restraints, and your arms fall to your sides. Fernando holds your wrists, massaging lightly. He kisses your shoulder softly and you smile lazily, all worn out, the way he likes you the most.

“Are you ok, princesa?” you hear him as you close your eyes.

“Yes, cariño. Never been better.” You murmur.

You keep your eyes closed as he wipes between your legs, and you feel as he rubs the soothing ointment onto your buttocks, then he uses a makeup wiper to clean your face. Fernando considers aftercare as important as sex, and you can't deny that you love the part of being lovingly pampered by him right after being fucked senseless.

Finally, he turns off the lights, pulls back the covers and lies beside you, your naked body being fully embraced by him. You get goosebumps when he nuzzles your neck, his beard tickling and making you giggle.

“I missed you a lot, mi cielo” He mutters against your skin.

“I missed you too, Nando. I loved seeing you so happy with that podium,” you say, pulling his hand up and kissing his knuckles.

“Thank you, maybe next time you should go cheer for me,” he kisses your collarbone.

“I’ll think about it, yeah?” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair, “maybe after finals.”

“I'm sure you'll get high scores on your tests, bebé” he whispers, and you feel a rush of joy at making him proud.

#fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x you #formula 1 #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 #fanfic #imagine #one shot #smut

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black-lake · 2 months

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astro observations 12

heyy here are some of the things i found out lately while i was wasting time

——

🎠 An aries moon and capricorn sun man, I always find this mix intriguing. Can give off the vibes of a character straight out of a webtoon, or a fuck boy that’s just visibly toxic. Either way I find them so incredibly magnetic. They possess strong fiery auras and usually have a rebellious streak to them. If they act out of their shadows they can be arrogant, insensitive, disloyal and only chase after the physical.

🎠 Initially I wondered why eminem doesn’t give me libra sun vibes at all, then I looked a bit deeper into his chart and realized that he’s just textbook uranian, he even looks like an alien and acts like one at times. He got sun conjunct uranus, aquarius moon, mars conjunct uranus, and uranus square nn. He was born to be a rebel.

🎠 He’s one of greatest rappers to exist and it’s worthy to mention some of the aspects that indicate his unique talent for rapping. First of all mars conj uranus is known to give unique talents, so that’s that. In this case sun and mars conj uranus granting him a natural rhythm, quick thinking, and unique expression. But the supersonic speed doesn’t come just from that. What’s interesting is that his ability to be a fast rapper and master lyricist is amplified by pluto also being in libra, conjunct his mars and pallas, fueling him with anger, intensifying his capabilities with determination, and heightened mental control and intelligence. Saturn is also in an air sign (gemini), indicating speed and intelligence. This gives rise to a grand air trine, linking his powerful stellium of sun, mars, uranus, pluto, and pallas in libra, his moon in aquarius, and saturn in gemini. The stars really aligned there making him the rap god huh.

🎠 If you know eminem's story you'd know that he had a tough upbringing. From a difficult mother and absent father to being an outcast bouncing between schools and sketchy neighbourhoods, the only white kid in a black community, being bullied by gangs, and even beaten up till he drifted out of consciousness, then dropped out of school. Makes me think it's why he keeps his bodyguards with him all the time! He was left with nothing and a daughter to provide for, encountered racial prejudice in rap contests for being white, despite these obstacles, he rose to become the best-selling hip-hop artist and earned recognition from rappers as one of the greatest of all time. Leads me to the next obs.

🎠 Heavy uranus/aquarius or 11°, 23° can easily become misfits without trying to. They’re constantly put in new environments, places where they’re the only ones of their kind, like a white kid in a black community, a foreign in a mostly local area, the new kid in school. There’s always ‘something different about them’ that people pick up on even if it was as early as elementary school. Which may get them outcasted or bullied. Their experiences at times lead them to hate school and drop out.

🎠 People with these placements have something special to offer the world. It may seem like obstacles are constantly put in their way without them doing anything, but it’s their path unfolding. So they can wake up from their conditioned states and break from the status quo. The more that happens the more they realize who they are.

🎠 Here’s why I think those that got capricorn north node can be the best fathers or the child’s favorite parent. It’s part of their destiny to be a caregiver and a good example for their children and they have the biggest hearts when it comes to caring for them and protecting them. They desire to give their child what they themselves may have lacked in their youth and shield them from the pain they experienced. Their child is their inspiration and reason to keep going in a way.

🎠 The biggest two examples I can give, Eminem singing mockingbird (one of my favs) for his daughter Hailie. He often mentions her in award shows, and did a whole diss track (killshot), in 13 minutes btw lmao, just because MGK made a tweet about his daughter. The other example is Travis Scott singing goosebumps for his daughter Stormi on stage and bringing her to his concerts. She has always said that her fav parent is her dad. Anyway, don’t mess with these ppl’s kids they’ll go after you to the end of the world.

🎠 Men with mercury conjunct saturn have deeper voices, speak slowly and eloquently like they’re a 50 year old even if they’re 25. They are very grounded, have a methodical way of thinking and are wise beyond their years. Also masters at dodging questions.

🎠 I’ve seen it a lot and experienced it myself having an aries stellium. Women with a lot of aries or mars placements can often feel like they’re more cute, youthful and sexy in a cool way rather than the typical feminine way. They often have toned bodies, smaller chests and a lot of masculine qualities that trying to appear too feminine can feel fake to them.

🎠 People with north node in capricorn can feel like they've been robbed of the success they deserve. It's giving the vibe of a musician that has worked so damn hard on their album and received public success but no official awards, then released another album and did it again and again and still haven’t gotten a grammy. I mean grammys are scams but ykwim. Along the lessons of success and accomplishment, there's also a profound lesson in patience and self-validation, a focus on recognizing one's worth from within rather than seeking external validation.

🎠 I noticed that aries, gemini, aquarius and capricorn placements or heavy mars, mercury, uranus and saturn can prefer skirts over dresses or just wear pants all the time.

🎠 Those with uranus-neptune in pisces really brought back the love for anime, manga, webtoons, cosplay, colourful cute aesthetics, dreamcore, surrealist aesthetics and art. They just got a dreamland vibe to them and it’s quite fascinating to see.

🎠 I have north node in leo and I'm starting to look like my 5 year old self, no joke, connecting to your inner child can do that. Looking at my childhood photos stirs up emotions within me. I often find myself reminiscing and yearning for that carefree time when I was simply myself, devoid of societal pressures. Plus, I can't help but notice after fixing my fucked up teeth I got my child smile back. I feel like I'm in a journey of rediscovery as I start to recognize that childlike spirit within me once again.

🎠 Those with sagittarius, libra, taurus, gemini, leo and aries placements have the most beautiful smiles omg, like it does something to your heart. Please keep smiling it really brightens up this world. I mean I can fit all the signs here I just love when others smile. 🥺

🎠 Mercury opposite pluto, these native can say exactly what would get them mocked or bullied. They keep starting the wrong fights for the wrong reasons. They could get triggered of people who communicate better than them. Their lesson lies in improving their communication skills, cultivating tactfulness and diplomacy, and learning to reclaim their power in a psychological manner rather than resorting to mindless verbal confrontations.

🎠 Mars conj/opp pluto can at times experience violence early on, in school or their neighborhood. They experience a lot of obstacles constantly, inner and outer pressures that they may feel like giving up. These challenges ultimately instill within them greater resilience and determination to pursue their goals. Many martial artists and athletes have this aspect, seeking an outlet to channel the intense anger they experience.

🎠 People with aries north node really go from one battle to another without a break. Leaving behind their need to compromise and avoid confrontations can be challenging but is the very thing that brings those battles. Eventually they will find themselves needing to defend themselves alone with no support, fighting back relentlessly no matter what and stop compromising to keep the peace. They will gain this sense of self assurance and bravery to face anything in life.

🎠 I know someone with a lot of saturn oppositions, aquarius sun and stellium opposite saturn, capricorn moon and aries nn. This person has always been underestimated by their parents and always felt like an outsider. They had controlling parents that imposed so many restrictions on them. They also were targeted in school for having a funny and likable personality. Being their aquarius mc and aries mercury bestie I saw their potential and encouraged them to fight back even if it meant making a scene. They eventually built up the courage to stand up for themselves no matter how alone they are. But they also have this wisdom to know when to pick their battles and when to ignore things and let them go, which I look up to.

🎠 People with a lot of chiron conjunctions or oppositions have a heart of gold. Real angels on earth that have been through it. They have so much compassion and understanding for others because they’ve been hurt in many ways. They know what it feels like to be wounded by life and have tremendous amounts of empathy for that. They have sensitive souls and their presence alone can make others feel seen and heard. I appreciate these people a lot, like thank u for existing.

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taintandviolent · 1 year

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Ouija Board (Tate Langdon x Reader)

Summary: You have a sleepover at your new house, and your friend decides to bring out your Ouija board. But, you’re all teenage girls, so the questions are completely unhinged and un-serious. But, the ghost you’re talking to takes full advantage of the situation. It’s a perfect opportunity, he’s been watching for you weeks. You’re living in his room, afterall.

warnings: 2.9k words -- self insert! female receiving. shameless smut. post-death Tate, ghost sex, cunnilingus, handjob, rough sex, unprotected sex, mention of ghosts/death.

Ao3 link here! Full fic below the cut! 18+.

tagged: @zabelcolin @kaismanwich @elsamars @thewolveswithin @marylovesevanpeters @80strashbag @r-3tro @twinkiemaximoff @milkovich-misfit {dm/ask to be added!}

It was the third week in the new house.

It was the first time that you actually felt at home. Somehow, you’d managed to make two friends from school, which was equally as shocking to you as it was to your parents. In previous schools, you’d always been on the outskirts, bored stiff at the idea of socialising. When you’d announced to your dad at dinner that you’d actually braved the choppy shores of friendship, he’d nearly choked on his coffee.

“That’s wonderful! Why don’t you invite them over for dinner tonight?” Your mom asked, setting her mug down on the table. You rocked your foot back and forth, mulling over the idea. Previously, your days off from school had been spent unpacking and checking around corners, listening to the creaking and whining of an old house.

Your mother was delighted with its age, commenting on the Tiffany glass and wood — but you felt things that had rotted underneath the wood. Things that whispered when your back was turned, or lingered in the kitchen when you went for a glass of water in the middle of the night.

“Okay, sure.”

So that night, instead of flicking the light switch off in your bathroom and making a beeline for your bedroom, you sat on the floor with Jessica, Angie, a dish of pizza rolls and three glasses of grape soda.

You swallowed the mouthful, and nodded. “No, I’m serious. This house is weird. The first week I was here, in the kitchen… I saw a blonde lady with a hole in the back of her head.”

Jessica snapped the book she was leafing through, and turned. “I bet she was murdered. Don’t you have an Ouija board?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, pointing towards the bookcase. “Never used it, though.”

“You’re going to. This is much more fun than going to Town Hall and asking for records on previous owners. Sometimes, they don’t include death certificates — which is obviously what everyone is interested in. That’s the good stuff.” It took all of three minutes for Jessica to set it up. In unison, the three of you delicately placed two fingers on the planchette.

“Okay… so, what do we ask?”

You chewed on the inside of your lip, thinking.

“Is there anyone here with us?” You blurted out.

The planchette skidded to life, circling in the middle of the board. You’d seen it happen in movies, but the actual sensation was an unsettling one. YES. You all exchanged looks, searching for any guilty expressions — but it seemed that none of you had opted to play any tricks. The planchette had moved by itself.

“Did you die here?” Angie asked.

YES.

Jessica gasped. “Ooooh, what if it’s a cute ghost boy like in Casper? Can I keep you?”

Completely enrapt with the idea, she turned her attention to the board, and asked, “Is the spirit in this room male?”

YES.

“Well, that rules out Miss Hole in her Head.” You cleared your throat, focusing on the printed letters. “Have you been the one in my room every night?”

“The one in your room every night?!” Jessica hissed, shooting a pointed look at you. You shrugged apologetically. Angie, who was visibly uneasy with the entire idea, almost fell backwards when the spirit answered.

YES.

“Oh my god!?” Jessica hung her head between her arms, laughing. “It’s probably some old grandpa with a shrimp dick, let’s be real here.”

“Bet. I’ll find out. Do you have a big dick, Mr. Ghost?” You asked.

Again, the planchette zipped to YES. Whoever he was, he didn’t hesitate. Cute. The three of you howled, laughing at the ridiculousness of the question. Angie desperately tried to redirect the conversation by asking the ghost what it wanted. The planchette spelled out HER.

Jessica lifted her fingers, and Angie screeched at her to return them. “If you don’t say goodbye, the spirit will have an open invitation to come into you!”

“To come!?” Jessica mocked. “To come into me?! Oh, the horror — don’t come into me! Pull out first, Ghost.”

Angie scowled. “You’re so gross.”

As they bickered, you stared at the planchette. It was still active, despite Angie and Jessica’s attention being pulled away. It quivered back and forth, as though it was shaking nervously.

Once Jessica’s wandering mind had been reigned back in, the three of you managed a few more more questions; some about murder, some about occult, and some about other ghosts in the house. Eventually, the sun disappeared from your window, plunging your room into darkness, and your mother called the three of you down to eat. Your friends stayed for about an hour after dinner, and they’d seemingly forgotten about the Ouija board. You hadn’t, though. You leaned your back against the door, the coldness of the glass piercing through your cotton shirt. Your eyes trailed up the staircase, following the bend of the bannister as it curved to the left. Before you made your way upstairs to ready yourself for bed, you craned your neck down the hall, trying to listen for the whispers.

You sat upright in your bed, gasping for air. The book clutched in your hand fell to the floor with a thud. You hadn’t even really remembered falling asleep, but the creak of your floorboards had woken you up. You were met with nothing but the silence and glittering darkness of the room while your eyes adjusted. Eventually, the speckles turned into furniture pieces; your dresser, your mirror, your bookcase… everything seemed in order. The clock on your bedside table incessantly blinked 2:34 AM.

Something skidded across the floor, a spinning blur of tan and black. You yelped, throwing yourself up against your headboard. Your room was silent save for that sound of something hard scooting against a flat surface. You took a deep breath, and crept forward gingerly, wincing each time your mattress creaked.

You gripped the edge of your bed frame tightly, knuckles paling. You peered over. In the middle of the floor where you’d been sitting earlier, the Ouija board was laid out. The planchette swept across the board as it had earlier, but this time with no hands to guide it. It zipped across the board aggressively, as though it was trying to get your attention.

“Hello?”

The triangle paused, then slowly drifted to hello.

Dumbfounded, your mouth opened and closed. You were at a loss — because no horror movie had ever given you any idea how to politely hold a conversation with a spirit outside of the traditional setting.

“Um…. can I… help you? Are you here to possess me?”

Stupid. That was stupid.

Watching as the planchette swept across the board, you read the letters allowed.

“L…A…Y…. Lay? Lay. Okay. B…A…C…K? Lay back?” You waited for further confirmation, but the planchette stayed still for a moment.

It started spinning again, quickly spelling out a final instruction. “Close my eyes. Lay back and close my…. eyes.”

You heaved a sigh, and against your better judgement, you did. You shimmied back underneath the covers, pulling them up to your chest, and waited. The seconds were excruciating, and you were sure some horror movie had to have started like this.

The duvet rustled at the bottom of the bed, and all at once, a gust of cold air hit your feet. The mattress gave to the weight of someone, and you yelped at the feeling of clothed shoulders nestling in between your thighs.

A broad hand ghosted across your stomach, fiddling the scalloped edge of your pyjama shorts. It swooped into your inner thigh, then circled down along your knee. Though the actions were soft, you couldn’t help but feel the knot forming in your stomach. Letting out a soft whimper, you bit your lip, clamping down hard. One hand slid up, caressing the curve of your ribs. You writhed. “You’re driving me insane…” you whispered harshly. Had you really been that touch starved?

Lips hovered over your inner thigh, the hot breath washing over the warm skin. A single finger ran along the inside, trailing further and further up. He slowed as he neared you, wordlessly asking for permission.

“Please,” you begged, doing everything you could not to scoot your hips down into him and embarrass yourself any further. “Please…”

He continued. The pad of his finger floated over you, stroking, teasing until the wetness soaked through the threads. The hands disappeared, but only to return to the sides, where they gripped the waistband, tugging them softly off your hips.

You took a deep breath and immediately clamped your hand over your mouth, muffling the shrill whine that tried to escape. Whoever he was, lapped at your cunt like it was a melting ice cream cone, and it didn’t take long for it to start weeping, soaking the green sheets beneath you.

Your chest rose and fell quickly, and your eyelids fluttered, overwhelmed with the sensation. Everything was white and on fire. Your thighs trembled deep within the muscle with every flick of his tongue. Were you really getting eaten out by a ghost? Was that actually happening? You felt silly acknowledging that. His tongue flattened out against your clit and you let out a whine, erasing every other thought. He pressed his face deeper into your wet folds, tongue flicking at the underside of your clit.

“Fffffuck, oh my god.”

You had to know. You swallowed, and tightened your lips into a thin line. You were ready for whatever horrifying visual would meet you. With one final surge of courage, you flipped the covers up, opened your eyes and gazed into the tented darkness. A head of soft, blonde curls bobbed softly between your legs.

“HELLO?!” It wasn’t a greeting, but the boy lifted his head from your cunt. Two dark eyes glimmered at you from beneath the duvet.

“Hey,” he said, chin glistening. “I’m Tate. I used to live here.”

“You’re so…. cute?”

He smiled crookedly, the dimples in his cheek deepening. “Were you expecting Freddy Krueger or something?”

Your head fell back on the pillow like an anvil and a breathy laugh broke your pants. “Yeah, maybe. Jesus Christ…. I don’t know. I’ve never had a ghost between my legs.”

“You liked it. You’re so wet.” He was pleased with himself, you could tell. Reaching one finger up to stroke your opening, he angled his head to watch the way you clenched and squirmed at his touch.

“Was I… were you the one I was talking to with my friends?” He nodded. He shifted his weight, manoeuvring himself up until he was above you, supporting himself with hands on either side of your neck.

“I’ve been watching you since you moved in, Y/N… I didn’t want to scare you away.” He confessed, searching your face. “I’ve wanted you for weeks.”

You were scrambling to keep your thoughts in one manageable bundle. On one hand, this scenario was insane and you were sick to be enjoying it. On the other… sure, he was dead, but he was easily one of the cutest boys you’d ever seen and the way he wanted you was intoxicating. His dark eyes darted from your lips to your eyes, wordlessly asking for permission. You craned your neck up to meet him, pressing into his plush, pink lips.

You’d never been one of those boy crazy teenagers, but you understood the cathartic release that sex brought. It was carnal and natural. You’d only ever slept with one other person, so the hunger was never sated, and you were left quietly fingering yourself after your parents fell asleep. Every time you’d had the chance to have made out with someone though, you tasted them. Deeply. Kissing someone released their scent, the one that only intimate partners got. And none of them had ever been as heady and addictive as Tate was. You tilted your head to get further into his waiting mouth, swirling your tongue with his. You whimpered, sending a moan down his throat.

You reached under, sliding your hands down his stomach. The tiniest trail of hair guided you to the waistband of his jeans, where you made quick work of the buttons. Breaking the kiss only to help with scooting his jeans over the curve of his ass, Tate quickly returned his lips against yours, his tongue moving past your lips eagerly.

Although you were going in blind, it wasn’t difficult to find his cock. Not only did it take up most of the space between you two, but it was hot to the touch, the heat radiating from beneath the thin fabric of his boxers. You pressed your hand against him, getting an idea for the length.

“Huh. So, you weren’t lying about that.” Tate’s hips ground against your palm in response. You reached up, flipping the elastic down so you could slip your hand in, dragging your fingers along the soft tip. Your palm was immediately slick with his precum; the thick fluid coated the soft skin. You used your thumb to smear some of it to the underside of the head, teasing at the ridges. He groaned, burying his face into your neck.

“I didn’t lie about anything you asked me.”

You began stroking him underneath the sheets in slow, full movements and Tate’s breathing hitched, hips bucking forward involuntarily. You sped up, feeling warm droplets dribble onto your exposed tummy. Your thumb pressed into the squishy flesh of his head, not expecting the reaction that followed.

“Mm-uh—please. Please, I want you. Please.” He was begging, whining, and his big brown eyes were filled with a pathetic yearning that made your walls soak even further.

“So do it.”

He wasted no time in completing your demand. He sat up, the covers falling off his back.Tate gripped himself, giving his cock a few pumps before he lined himself up, pressing his hot, leaking tip into your entrance. Snatching the opportunity from him, you bucked your hips up to his, forcing his cock inside. You clenched around him hungrily and Tate let out a throaty whine as he pushed the remaining length into you.

He started out slow, taking his time as he slid in and out of you, but the slick pull of your walls each time he slid out unravelled his concentration. Each thrust seemed a little more desperate than the last, his balls slapping against you, splashing the mixture of his spit and your cum against your inner thighs. Bottoming out inside of you, he arched his neck backwards, letting it hang heavy. “Are you a virgin?”

“Wha — no.” You breathed, adjusting your head on the pillow to look at him. Odd question to ask in the middle of the deed. “Why?”

Tate swallowed, and between pants, said, “Because…. you’re so wet.” He dropped forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His cock was still inside, the girth hitting you at a new angle, and the fullness made your stomach clench.

“I’m going to fuck you hard, okay? Tell me if I’m hurting you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You nodded fervidly, and slithered your hands underneath his sweat-soaked shirt until it gathered. Tate lifted his arms, and allowed you to slip the shirt over them. You tossed it towards the edge of the bed, and raked your nails along his naked chest.

“Please.” It was your turn to beg. Tate backed his hips out, pulling himself from your warmth. “I want it.”

He dropped back down to his hands, getting a tight grip on the mattress behind you. His lips met yours again, hungrily. It provided only a momentary distraction, because the second that Tate started pounding into you, you could focus on nothing else — except suppressing your aroused screams. He scooted closer to you on the bed, angling himself to get deeper.

He was hitting every spot he could, and your breaths quickened as he fucked you closer to the edge. You bit down on your lip, squeezing your eyes shut. He had just started, and you were already about to lose it.

“Are you gonna’ cum? Huh?” Tate asked, now struggling to keep his rhythm. If you were close, he seemed to be closer — and you didn’t feel so bad. Tate reached down, pulling himself out to slide the tip of his cock over your clit a few times before stuffing it back in. Your lips parted in a soundless scream as you felt the unmistakable warmth filling you, the quivering in your legs, and the desperate, spasming arch of your back.

“Fuck, fuck,” Tate chanted, feeling your orgasm as it gripped him in a wet, pulsing chokehold. “Fuck!”

As he spilled into you, Tate fell atop of your body, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours. His hips were on autopilot, erratically bucking with each gush. You winced, on the verge of overstimulation. Gradually, his thrusts slowed.

He flopped over on the side of you, one hand stroking the outside of your thigh delicately. He was gazing at you dreamily when you turned to face him.

“So, do I have to bring out the Ouija board each time I want to see you?”

Tate propped his head up on his hand. “You want to see me again?”

You rolled your eyes to the ceiling, a taunting smile curling around your swollen lips. “Uhhh… yeah.”

“I can be here every night if you want.” He purred.

“Haven’t you been anyway? Or did you lie about that?”

Tate’s brows pulled upwards, looking hurt. “I told you — I didn’t lie about anything! I’d never lie to you!”

“Okay, shh —“ You silenced him with your lips. “I’ll be right back. I have to pee.”

For the first time since you’d moved in, you weren’t afraid of ghosts as you walked to the bathroom. You were just afraid that the one in your bedroom would be gone when you got back.

He wasn’t, though.

#Tate Langdon #American Horror Story #ahs murder house #tate langdon smut #ahs smut #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon x yn #myfics #fanfiction #ahs fanfiction

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emeraldspiral · 8 months

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A venn diagram of the queer/neurodiverse content depicted in Invader Zim. I've already talked about the inherent queerness of Zim and mentioned a few times that there’s a big overlap with autism/neurodiversity but I thought this would make a handy reference. Note that “neurodiversity” isn’t just autism/ADD/ADHD but also includes mental illness, personality disorders, mood disorders, learning disabilities, and anything else that isn’t “neurotypical”.

On the queer side there is actual canon queer rep in the show and comics:

Irkens are canonically aroace and intersex.

Groyna from the comics was confirmed by Eric Trueheart to be a lesbian.

Commander Poki from the comics may be trans, as she has eyelashes normally only seen on female Irkens, but lacks the curled antenna every other female Irken is shown to possess.

Recap Kid's gender is deliberately ambiguous.

There are also many instances of queer-coding that can be seen throughout the show such as:

The homoerotic rivalry between Zim and Dib.

Red and Purple basically being Zim's two gay dads.

Zim and several other characters having campy and dramatic mannerisms.

Zim using Keef and Tak as beards.

Zim and GIR wearing make-up/cross-dressing and generally not concerning themselves with or even being aware of gender conformity.

That time Dib's personality was copied into the body of a female ship which became very distressed at being told it wasn't really a boy and changed its physical appearance to match its brain.

Other queer elements featured in the show include:

Female characters who aren't love interests/show no interest in romance.

Most characters showing a general lack of visible interest in the opposite sex or romance.

The Membranes being a non-traditional family (single dad with no mom, later acquiring two more dads in the form of Foodio and Clembrane). Irken society not being structured around family units at all.

Satirical depictions of nuclear family units (Zim’s roboparents).

Transhumanism.

Kink/Fetish content including tentacles, bondage, domination, tongues, sadism, mind-control, body morphing, gore, food/eating, bodily fluids/fluids in general, Giger-esque designs, etc…

On the Neurodiverse side we have:

Zim’s food sensitivity.

Zim’s germophobia.

Zim’s dislike of being touched or hugged.

Zim seeming to suffer from sensory issues in general.

Zim getting overstimulated on the bus in Walk of Doom.

Zim and Dib infodumping.

Zim’s idiosyncratic speech mannerisms.

Characters having high intellect paired with poor social skills/low emotional intelligence.

Hyperfixations and special interests.

Zim’s struggles with multi-tasking and keeping his priorities straight.

GIR being easily distracted and unable to focus on anything that doesn’t immediately interest him.

Characters having poor volume control.

Characters having mood swings or trouble regulating their emotions.

Zim’s issues with memory.

Dib hyperfocusing to the point of neglecting hygiene.

Zim’s “problem with listening”.

And in the middle where they overlap there’s:

Zim and Dib being outcasts, misunderstood by everyone around them, and only able to connect with other misfits like Gaz, GIR, Keef, each other, and random hobos.

Zim masking his otherness and putting on performative displays of “normalcy” and having a well-founded fear of the consequences of being discovered.

Dib being open about his otherness and looking for respect and acceptance in the face of overwhelming ridicule and contempt.

Dib being pressured by his father to conform in order to please him.

Dib finding that the social benefits of conformity aren’t enough to outweigh the pain of not being his authentic self in Mopiness of Doom.

Dib’s experiences and perspectives being trivialized, dismissed and medicalized as indicators of mental illness.

Dib actually being mentally ill, but only as a result of not being accepted or supported for being different.

The eugenicist dystopia of the Irken Empire, where Zim is labeled “defective” and sentenced to death rather than treated for the mental health issues caused by the society that created him.

Daddy issues/familial rejection/non-acceptance.

Zim and Dib’s struggles with depression.

Zim and Dib’s need to prove themselves to gain validation and acceptance.

Zim and Dib being victims of bullying and in turn bullying others to feel a sense of power.

Dib’s self-loathing.

Zim’s default state being paranoia and anxiety.

Zim and Dib’s self-image issues.

And of course the one thing that binds us all: alternative fashion.

#invader zim #zadr #zadf #zim #dib #dib membrane #gaz #gaz membrane #tak #invader tak #professor membrane #keef #almighty tallest

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ashestoroses018 · 6 days

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A Missed Opportunity

Astarion never comes to confess to you before Moonlight Tower.

Being the BAMF you are, you confront him with the dreaded "what are we" conversation.

Short, sweet, to the point. Idiots in love confessing to each other.

Astarion watches you from his tent. He does it constantly, and you are well-aware of it. Sometimes, you purposefully catch his eye, your own gleaming with intent. He never backs down, yet he never acts on your significant looks, either. Tonight, you decide, enough is enough. You're nearly to Baldur's Gate, now, after two months of traveling with your erstwhile companions - your band of misfits, if you will. Hells, you're supposed to arrive in Rivington in two days' time. Enough is enough. If you are just prey or just a plaything, you deserve to know, at least so you can make an educated decision for yourself. You should be allowed to decide if you're willing to be a...a plaything forever or not. You're not completely certain you're against it, considering the depth of your feelings for the man, but you still deserve to have a choice in the matter. He owes you that much, at least.

Heaving a great breath - one you didn't even realize you'd been holding - you stand up from your seat at the campfire and do your best to stride confidently to Astarion's tent. His eyes widen a fraction; if you weren't so familiar with his facial expressions, you likely would have missed it.

"Astarion," you say, "we need to talk. Now."

"Why, whatever about, darling? Have you changed your mind about our little deal? I would hate to lose such a scrumptious snack, but I understand if I must."

You shake your head in the negative. "No, Astarion. We need to talk about, well, us."

He puts his wine glass down and rakes a hand - quite elegantly, mind you - through his artfully disheveled hair. "Must we?"

"Yes," you say, firmly steeling what little resolve you have.

"Fine." He huffs, grabbing you by the hand and leading you quickly and quietly to a nearby grove. The need for privacy seems to be at an all-time high, you think idly.

"What do you want to know, Tav?"

"Everything. We've slept together once, over a month ago, after the party, and I've been your dinner every night for even longer. Am I just a plaything to you? A toy?"

He lets out an anguished groan. "No. You're not."

You blink. You blink again. A third time, you blink. You'd not been expecting that.

Noticing your obvious confusion, he rakes a much less graceful hand through his hair, which is now in a much less artful disarray, you note. He's obviously disgruntled, or, perhaps...frustrated? With you? With himself? All of the above?

"You haven't ever been 'just' a plaything. At first." He sighs once again, "you were a...means to an end. It was supposed to be simple. I seduce you, use you for protection, maybe food... But damn it all, you had to go and be...nice!...in a way I've never experienced before. Nobody has ever given me a choice before, at least, not since Cazador turned me. But you, Tav, you give me choices all the time! To feed on you or not, to pick campsites, to hunt various animals for everyone's dinner, including my own...To not bite that strange Drow woman." He visibly shivers at the mention of the Blood Alchemist.

Through all of this, you just stare at him in a dumb, stunned silence.

"Do you get what I'm saying, Tav? I don't really know WHAT you are, but you're so much more than a plaything or a means to an end. You deserve something...real. I want us to be something real."

Breaking out of your stupor, you sidle closer. "May I kiss you?"

Astarion gives you an affronted look of pure indignation. "I pour my heart and soul out to you, and you think you need to ask to kiss me?"

You merely nod. "You always have a choice, Astarion. Always."

With a quiet growl, he surges toward you with inhuman speed and pulls you into a ferocious, bruising, breathless kiss.

A moment later, when you break for air, you smirk. "Nice of you to profess your undying love for me, Astarion!"

The squeak of pure indignation is worth the scowl he throws your way for the next few minutes. It goes away, however, when you whisper in his ear that you feel the same.

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