#I know this has been done a million times but I’m obsessed

[jfht]

“Why not..?”

“I wish you were a girl.”

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Arthur loved Charles

Charles loved Arthur

💔💔💔💔

#charthur #red dead redemption 2 #this has been stuck in my head all day #I know this has been done a million times but I’m obsessed #arthur morgan #charles smith #i wish you were a girl #i kind of wish I got this picture at night but fuck it we ball #red dead

[radioactive-mouse]

I get how tempting it is to just label flower husbands as “toxic” and move on, but god they can be SO much more nuanced than that, it makes me insane.

I think something that goes largely unexplored by the fanbase is c!scott’s obsession with composure. he’s clearly very proud of his ability to stay calm under pressure and be two steps ahead of everyone else— not that he’s afraid to rely on people, him and cleo very clearly have that unshakable trust between them, but i think that sometimes he gets so wrapped up in being steady, reliable scott, never hot-headed, never spiteful, or clumsy, or nervous.

and jimmy is a very real threat to that composure, more often than not.

and i think the way their relationship functions in 3rd life, while steady at the time, definitely set them up for complications down the road. scott, for as fiercely dedicated to his allies as he is, kind of tends to handle jimmy with kid gloves for the earlier parts of their relationship. he’s not very good at the death game, but that’s fine, he doesn’t need to be, scott will take care of it— he’ll get them set up with armor and potions and walls and jimmy can do… whatever it is he does when scott’s not around. mostly getting swindled, if he had to guess. but it’s fine, because scott can be steady, level headed, clever—

i do think most of scott’s ribbing about how he doesn’t know why he lets jimmy do anything when all he does is get scammed half the time is genuinely all in good fun, (jimmy is more than happy to play the fool most of the time, if only to bring a little bit of levity to things) it is super symptomatic of the way scott actually thinks about him. i don’t believe he thinks jimmy is actually stupid or anything, but i do think scott doesn’t quite trust him to get anything done. scott would never in a million years let himself lean on jimmy for any kind of support, because in scott’s mind jimmy’s job is to be bright and brash and only listen to that heart of his that’s too big for his body, too big for this game.

and i think too often we forget just how much losing jimmy destroyed scott in 3rd life. you ever think about how wrecked he must’ve been to place 10th despite being a consistent finalist in every other season? do you think about how all he has left is the burning, white-hot urge for revenge from the second jimmy’s body hit the ground?

i don’t think scott ever wants to feel like that again. i don’t think scott wants anyone to see him like that again. i think scott tries very hard to love jimmy from a safe distance where no one gets hurt. and i think that distance fucking kills jimmy, metaphorically speaking.

(also, tangentially related, i think there’s something to be said for how instantly tango goes “we only have a short time together, your curse will probably get us killed, and that’s fine.” and how jealous scott gets of that sentiment. as far as scott is concerned, tango and jimmy are of the same niche— they feel everything, loudly, even if it causes problems and even if it gets messy. and god that just makes his blood boil.)

i’m just so… entranced with the way scott carries himself with so much confidence and it’s not like he’s insecure, he really believes that, he’s a strong player and he knows that, but also revealing any emotion he deems to be “ugly” or “messy” makes him start to completely unravel. the driving force behind him is always love and loyalty and protectiveness over the people he cares about, but he’s juggling that with being dead set on never getting so close that losing them will completely ruin him.

anyway, this is getting away from me, but i think a lot of jimmy’s frustration with scott comes from the fact that he refuses to let their relationship go both ways, and i think by the time of the infamous “say i love you back” scene in limlife he’s just exhausted with throwing himself repeatedly against scott’s brick wall of perfectionism. that, and the whole Situation between them in double life, which i could honestly make it’s own post but good god i need to STOP typing or this will go on forever. forgive my completely disorganized ramblings i just have been trying to get all this down on paper FOREVER

#FLOWER HUSBANDS. #i’m not over them. i’m not over them at all. #the scott/jimmy/tango/martyn polycule enchants me so…… #well i say polycule. but it is riddled with divorce #ANYWAY #trafficblr #solidaritygaming #smajor1995 #scott smajor #flower husbands #3rd life #double life #limited life #do i tag secret life….. #eh might as well #secret life #mouse.txt #oh god also obligatory none of this is speculation about the ccs for the love of god

[signedkoko]

Hello! I just found your blog and oh my god I’m obsessed and I’ve read everything

Can I request some fluffy lucifer and Lilith x fem reader who’s really sweet and ultra feminine? Like 9/10 she’s always wearing a dress or a skirt long or short doesn’t matter, loves doing her makeup and doing her hair? and puts hella effort into her appearance on the daily not for her husband and wife but just for herself and because she can?

Lucifer X Reader X Lilith [Comfort]

In which you're as feminine as they come, and both Lucifer and Lilith adore that trait in you.

Lilith likes having you around, because since Charlie grew up theres been a bit of a hole of girl time in her schedule

Being able to give you advice and go to only the best spas in hell, leaving Lucifer behind to enjoy some company time

One of the best parts is when you do her makeup, she always does yours because she was trained from her dancer days, but when you do hers its so gentle

Telling her the purpose of each tool even if she's heard it a million times, each colour and shade, and the small peck you give her when you're done

Lilith is especially amazing with hair, and after helping you doll yourself up for the day its nice to get a good thirty minutes in just stroking through your well maintained hair and decide what'd frame your outfit best

Sometimes when she does your lipstick, she puts it on her and kisses it onto you to give it what she calls 'a faded makeout session look'

Well, it looks good, so who are you to complain

On the other hand, Lucifer is big on fashion and always makes sure he looks like he is making a statement, so he always bring syou back clothes which he has a tailor fix to your exact curve

He always tries to match with you but Lilith tells him off because she doesnt want you to match whatever santa clause aesthetic he has going on

The public loves you, marked as the newest and hottest addition tot heir relationship, which they encourage and tell you about

Lilith will bring you to her magazine shoots and insist only you can style her makeup and hair, though unfortunately they always draw the line at clothes

She thinks you'd dress her better than whatever they do

Charlie is also happy you wormed your way into their hearts, because you are a lot less intensive than her biological parents, and she appreciates how much you visit her

When you suggest Charlie join you and Lilith for some getaways, they both love the idea, so now you get some mothers to daughter time

Author's Note - Back to writing I am actually writing from the airport atm because I am heading back home for christmas! I will have a ton of time to write during that time, since I have now wrapped up my exams. Lucky me! I am 3 pina coladas in and ready for takeoff 🛫

Ayyways, thank you for requesting these two, I actually love poly with them so much and there is not enough of it out there (I would know, I read it all), so I hope I met your expectations 🖤

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #lilith #lilith x reader #lucifer #lucifer x reader

[raisedbythetv89]

Listennnnn to be loved is to be seen

Buffy is SURROUNDED by people who project and project and project some more onto her without ever truly seeing her and just trying to force her to be whatever they want/need her to be often leaving her feeling used, abused, and lonely.

And so while yes on the surface the Buffy bot is icky as hell and obviously irl all of us would be rightfully horrified if that happened to us. This is fictional and with a still evil but trying to be good but with no human soul to help guide him on how to be good Spike - who has been rejected and is honoring that rejection and finding a solution to leave real Buffy alone by giving him a place to put all his feelings for Buffy somewhere that isn’t Buffy herself - programs her so well and therefore showing how well he sees and understands her!! NO ONE ELSE could have programmed that exact Buffy that was believable enough to fool her friends. So yes it’s twisted but this is a vampire falling in love with the slayer if you want completely healthy truly go elsewhere lololol but so the bot is used to show just how well Spike truly understands her and more importantly what he loves about her which given the partner she had right before this was Riley who VERY CLEARLY hated how strong she was and that she was the slayer…

spike is like SHE NEEDS A DEDICATED SLAYER FOLDER

HE PUT THE YEAR WILLOW CAME OUT IN HER BIO 😭😭😭😭 angel and riley truly could never in a million years pay close enough attention to the people in her life that Buffy cares about to add info like that

The choice of “make spike happy” instead of something like “pleasing spike” feels significant because it’s able to encompass a wider range of things including her care for her friends since that seems to be the active folder when she’s accessing information on them. Buffy caring about other people makes him happy even though he’s morally grey at best at this moment 😭 AND TWO KISSING PROGRAMS ARE THE VERY FIRST THINGS IN THAT FOLDER 😭😭😭 he doesn’t just “want to fuck her” like people try to claim he wants to love her 🥲 he wants her kisses like I’m gonna throw up from how disgustingly tender and heartbreaking that is

Buffy bot calls both her and Buffy very pretty and tells Giles he “should listen to the other Buffy because she’s very smart”. Spike made sure the Buffy bot was a Buffy that loved herself and valued her intelligence like I cannot even begin to tell you how NONE of this is your run of the mill making just a sex bot of your crush because not being able to have sex with them upsets you. He wants to love her because he knows she needs it as much as he wants to give it to her

We have this moment where Buffy bot has finally found Spike who she’s been looking for and worried about the whole time and seemingly only cares about him and no one else and she sees he’s SEVERELY injured yet when Giles calls for help Buffy bot responds at the same time as Buffy does and runs to his aide leaving Spike like she’s still just so BUFFY at her core even if the superficial aspects have been changed 😭

if we compare this moment to the one in something blue where xander calls out for help in the crypt in an IDENTICAL situation yet ACTUAL BUFFY just continues to make out with Spike when he’s not even injured at all 💀 like Spike didn’t even give Buffy bot the “extra love sick” component Buffy herself exhibits for him on multiple occasions 😭

and of course - WE END WITH THIS KISS AND THE WAY SHE’S FUCKING LOOKING AT HIM BRO 😩 she’s like holy shit he was for real when he said he loved me no one has ever done anything like this for me while simultaneously showing how COMPLETELY loyal and obsessed they are and how well they know and love all of me AND my sister like

‼️I CAN DEPEND ON HIM‼️

So close to death even Xander is feeling sympathy for him yet clocks IMMEDIATELY it’s her and she’s just like hi 🥹 yes it’s me, I really just did that. I see you and what you did for me. HAVE HOPE KEEP TRYING DONT GIVE UP.

If Buffy loves you she forgives you pretty easily and I personally think that’s what we’re seeing here with Spike like kissing him in the same ep she learns of the Buffy bot is low key CRAZY 😹 but truly people who have done less for her have done far worse!!! The bot kept dawn and tara from being taken instead and he proved he would protect both of them with his life and like she already loves him which is why she even went for the kiss she was like REALLY THE SITUATION CALLS FOR IT WHAT’S A GIRL TO DO 🤷🏼‍♀️

#this post all started literally just from noticing the gay 1999-present 💀 #spuffy #embarassing freak couple #spike and buffy #spike x buffy #spuffy season 5

[esha-isboogara]

lyrical lies

i am a fuckinf degenerate and i’d like to apologize for how disgusting i have become.this is the longest thing i’ve written in a while..i’ve gone off the deep end if it isn’t clear🤭

here is more rick stuff not one person asked for find it here and here and here and here and here and here

✰let’s be honest rick is his own warning, smut , afab reader, age gap!!, calling him god, a bit of manhandling, a bit of dacro (?), shitty porn trips turned full blown story

“he doesn’t bite..just go ask him”. summer whispered, nudging you towards the garage door.

you shook your head in muted panic. you’d seen how angry her grandpa could get over small things and the last thing you were going to do was set him off over a stupid question.

“why don’t you do it summer ? this was your idea, plus he’s your grandfather”. you shot back.

she looked just as scared as you were. “he’ll totally yell at me if i go in there. he can’t be mad at you, you’re a guest”.

“yeah but what if he does ? i don’t want to get on his bad side”.

summer took hold of your shoulders. “y/n. the quicker we get this done the quicker we can get away from my grandpa and do something more fun”.

the garage door opened suddenly caused you both to jump back in shock.

there he stood , an annoyed look on his face. “i’m right in the middle of something very fucking important- is there a reason the two of you are bickering right in front of my god damn door”?

his piecing gaze was enough to make you want to cry. “i..we need help on a science project mr. sanchez sir”. you managed to say fighting back the urge to turn around and leave.

he cocked his head in amusement, his demeanor softening a bit. it was clear you had played right into his ego for better or for worse.

“that’s it ? why didn’t you just say that come in come in”.

you followed him into the garage the papers clenched in your hands.

“not you summer, you - you forbidden from entering. i know you went through my shit two days ago”. rick said, slamming the door in her face.

if only that had actually been the reason. he couldn’t wait to have sweet,innocent little y/n alone. every since she’d bonded with summer over some college tour bullshit he was obsessed. he needed you and needed you bad, as embarrassing as that was.

“what can i help you with sweetheart”? his voice as sweet as saccharine.

you fidgeted with the papers once more. “well i have this project based around quantum physics and since you’re the smartest person i know i figured you’d be the best person to ask mr. sanchez”.

he couldn’t help but smile at that. he WAS a fucking genius and hearing it out loud always made him puff up in pride.

and she has manners too. this was not going to easy. it’s not that he cared about his granddaughters feelings - quite the opposite. but if summer were to find out how he really saw her friend she’d stop bringing you over. and that would just make things a million times harder for him.

“you’re not wrong, i am the smartest person you’ll probably ever meet. and lucky for you i have something that’ll give your professor a run for their money”.

as he rifled through us cabnets filled to the brim with countless inventions he piped up “and sweetheart”?

you felt yourself melting into his trap. “yes sir”?

“you’re a grown fucking woman right ? you can call me rick”.

—————————————————————————

you were like putty in his hands at this point and he’d be lying if he wasn’t loving every second of this. and it only took 30 minutes. maybe you weren’t as innocent as you acted but he wasn’t complaining.

not when you sat atop his lap so pretty asking- no begging him to please you.

“p-please mr. sanchez” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinding yourself against his leg. “i want you to touch me , use me please, please mr. sanchez”.

oh god how could he say no to those sweet noises. he’d take you apart right fucking there if he could but alas his family was home and they did not need to catch wind of the things he was doing. he messed with the idea of erasing their memories in his head for a while but figured it would be way too much work in the long run.

“fuuuck. i’ll give you everything you want and more but you have to promise me you’ll shut up. i would hate for your best friend to walk in and see what a slutty mess you’ve become”.

you nodded your head vigorously, happy to finally get some kind of satisfaction. as terrifying as rick was you’d be lying if you said the way he towered over you with such control didn’t turn you on.

“you’re so obedient- smart girl. do me a favor will ya ? get up and lift up that skirt for me , let me see what i’m workin with here”.

you did as you were told, climbing off his lap and giving him a slow twirl.

“good girllll”.

he clenched his hand into a fist. holy shit you were a fine piece of ass. he couldn’t wait to make you his. fuck what summer thought he was going to fuck you so good you’d come back for more.

“fuckk you’re a pretty thing huh ? it’s a wonder you haven’t already been claimed, guess it’s a good thing you came here cause i plan on doin just that”. with those words he was was hovering above you pressing your face down on the metal surface of his work table.

“you look even b-better like this holy shit” he admired from his standing position.

“fu-fuck mr. sanch- rick”. you corrected yourself mid sentence. drool was already starting to pool beside your mouth but you barely noticed with how hot and bothered you were growing.

“mmm that’s a good girl”. he flipped your skirt up. and pulled your panties down to your knees ignoring your small please for him to be gentle.

he smiled- a shit eating grin looking at how soaked your sex was. “you poor thing- i’ve d-denied you much too long haven’t i ? left this perfect pussy empty for weeks? how did you ever survive”?

usually he engaged in a little foreplay only because his partners were so dead set on it. but he was far too eager to do any of that bullshit right now. he’d been waiting for this.

without so much as a warning he thrust himself inside you, a scream leaving your lips.

his hand flew to your mouth covering it word word word

“shhh shh shhh. i know how much you love my cock but you have to stay quiet. got it y/n”?

he removed his palm for a moment to hear you answer.

you don’t answer though. you’re a babbling drooling mess already. the feeling of his cock filling you up and stretching your walls felt like heaven.

“you’re my god rick - please decide what to do with me and treat me like your slave. you control all my actions i’m nothing but your stupid worldly servant to fill with seed when you please”.

he was a bit taken aback as that comment seemed to come out of nowhere. when it sank in it gave him even more of a reason to keep you to himself.

if he wasn’t carful he’d be giving beth a new little sibling. but oh fuck- she looked and sounded so perfect begging for him.

“fuck yeah i am your god ! i’m a god among men and you’re my mortal pet i can use as i please”.

the whine that escaped her throat was almost pornagraphic. it was hard to keep your composure under the circumstances.

“good pet”.

#i am trash #and guess what #idc anymore #this account #went from #okay #to woooah alright #to dark content #to rpf #to more dark content #AND NOW THIS #old science man make esha head go brrrr #i’d let him use me #yeah i said it #rick sanchez #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez smut #rick and morty #oh to be fucked stupid #by a grumpy science man #siiigh #esha has gone insane #clinically insane #esha wrote more than a few paragraphs wow #what a shock #real writing #and it’s for RICK #sigh #esha writes

[luvrxbunny]

sleek

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Prompt: Car Sex

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, f!oral sex, piv, unprotected sex (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 2.7k

A/N: pretty sure the truck was Tommy’s but we’ll pretend it was Joel’s

You and Joel were on a supply run, nothing you haven’t done a million times before. You guys were wandering around, looking for anything you could find when you heard him let out a sharp gasp. You grip your gun reflexively and start looking around for whatever he saw, but you find nothing. 

“Aww look at this!” He’s admiring a bloody, muddy, beat-down truck. He’s crouching, groaning at his knees when he stands back up to circle the truck. “Wow…” He actually sounds in awe… you don't get it.

“Joel, that truck is in horrible condition.” You deadpan. He turns to you with a childlike glee in his eyes. “No! Don’t say that! She’s jus’ a fixer upper that’s all.” He pats her hood with a smile. “Looks just like my old truck, from before… Of course, mine was cleaner… yeah.”

He runs his finger through the coat of dirt with a sad sigh. “I kept her so nice, so clean.” He glances over at you with a shy smile. “I woulda taken you to a real nice place in her, make it a long drive jus’ to show off for ya’.” It warms your heart, the softness of his fantasy, the domesticity of it.  

“Yeah? I’d be so impressed too.” You make your way over to him, admiring the truck a bit. “I used to love a guy with a truck, especially those ones that need a step to get in.”

You see excitement fly over his face as he holds a finger up to you and rushes to the side of the car, opens the passenger side door, and showcases the step at the bottom of the doorway. “See! You woulda been so impressed.” He sounds a bit deflated at the lost opportunity, you try and indulge him. 

“Where would you take me?” The light returns to his eyes when he turns to you. “Where’d ya’ wanna go?” He stands quickly and rushes to stand in front of you, to watch you answer as though he really needed to know. “Uh- I think I’d love to go to a drive-in theater… especially with a truck!” His smile is wider than you’ve seen in a while.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’d get some blankets, and make the back all nice and comfortable for ya’. You’d be so impressed with me, baby, I swear.” This felt like it was bordering on self depreciation talk and you wouldn’t have it. “Joel. I’m already impressed with how well our date nights go. We’re living on a commune in the apocalypse yet I still feel like the most important thing when I’m with you. That’s the most important thing to me.”

His eyes meet yours sadly. “I have more charm with the truck though.” He has a shy smile on his face as he says it, embarrassed at how true he believes it is. You laugh at his claim. “Sure, Joel. The only appeal this truck has to me… is that there are more places to fuck you in. Other than that, it doesn't serve much purpose.” You watch his face contort in shock for a moment before turning slightly pink. You giggle at his reaction and tell him you guys have to get a move on. 

You’ve taken a few steps when you realize you don’t hear him behind you. You look around and don’t see him at first, then you notice he’s gotten in the truck. 

His obsession is gonna get us stuck out here after sundown. 

You shake your head and make your way back to the truck, his jacket is off, and his back is turned to you. “Joel, what are you doing? You can’t fix the truck” He turns to you and his face is still red, his chest is lightly heaving and there’s a bulge in his pants. “No, but I can still fuck you in it.” 

You look down at the seat to see he’s laid his jacket out for you, so sure that you’re going to let him fuck you in this fake copy of his old truck. He’s right. 

You smile and he reaches his hand out for you to take as you climb in. He watches you press yourself up from the step and almost fall into him. He catches you with a chuckle and your lips are already pressing into his. He groans against your lips at your desperation, at the way you’re already trying to lick into his mouth, repositioning yourself so you can try and wiggle your way onto his lap. 

He smiles into the kiss, pulls your hips away from him, and starts sliding them down, letting you lean back against the seat cushions. He pulls your pants and underwear down to your knees before just diving in. His head buries itself between your legs before you can gasp at the cold air hitting your sensitive skin. 

His tongue is licking across anything he can reach, trying to taste every part of you. One of his hands pulls away from its painful grip on your thighs to unzip his pants. His cock is pressing painfully into the denim as you mewl above him, whining for more, for him to stop and just fuck you, you don’t even know what you want. Joel brings that hand up to lay across your waistline, pressing your hips down against the fabric of his jacket. 

You feel bad because you know you’re making a mess on it. You’re soaked by the way Joel was trying to drink you up, at the groans and grunts he’s letting out between your legs and the way his hips have started to slowly grind his aching cock against the seats. 

Your hips slowly begin to rock into his face, your hands come down to hold his head in place as you do. He groans your name into your pussy as you use him, riding his nose as his tongue tries to wiggle its way inside you. His eyes are shut in concentration but they shoot open to look at you when you start moaning his name. “Joel. C- Joel I’m close- so close, Joel. Joel-“ 

Your hushed voice comes out as a whimper as you try and warn him. Joel is lost in the way you say his name. The way you feel the need to have it on repeat as you cum, like it’s the only thought in your head. 

His hand comes down to palm his raging bulge, relieving some of the tension that’s been building as he fucks into the dirty seats. He’s pulsing for you, to get inside you, to fuck you in his this truck. 

His eyes close at the thought. In an alternate universe, Joel thinks you’d be softer. You’re already so sweet and sensitive for him but without the added sense of danger, Joel thinks you’d be a mess for him. Just melting all over whenever he touched you. 

He’d be more affectionate too, get you into that headspace that makes everything fuzzy. Keep caressing you until all you can do is cling to him and ramble deliriously about how good he makes you feel. He’d love to have the opportunity to take his time with you, bring you so high that you feel like you’ll never come down, and then throw you over the edge. 

“JOEL-“ His name comes out as a shouted gasp before you’re creaming all on his tongue. His eyes roll back behind his shut lids as he desperately tries to drink up all your juices. He’s relishing your taste, moaning praises to you from buried between your legs. He knows you can’t hear them but he means them so truthfully he doesn’t even need you to, he just can’t stop them from tumbling out of his mouth. 

You have to tug his hair to get him out, to stop him from. overstimulating you to the point of immobility. “Joel. S- You s-said you’d fuck me.” 

You’re whining for him, already begging for more and he is more than willing to give it to you. He’s already pushing himself off the ground, pulling his jeans down, and climbing over you with a smirk. You’re wearing a pout that’s reluctantly turning into a shy smile under his gaze. He helps you pull your pants completely off your legs before spreading you open. 

He has one leg over his shoulder and the other resting on his hip, his hands are clutching each ankle as he smiles down at you. “Wanna put me in, baby?” His accent makes the words slide out of his throat like honey, spilling from his lips like they’re the sweetest syrup. 

Your pussy is already squeezing down on nothing, begging him to stretch you. He chuckles at the whimper you let out before grabbing his thick cock and lining him with your entrance. You can feel his tip resting so far outside where your hole sits naturally and your heart begins to race. You can tell Joel is having the same thoughts by the way his gaze is focused on where you two are touching, where his tip is just leaking into your hole. His breaths are coming out in small pants and he’s trying to stop his hips from thrusting his cock inside you, pushing his way through. 

You wiggle your hips slowly, trying to ease him in. His tip slides in quicker than you expected, you flinch and moan at the sensation, winning a rare whine from Joel as his tip catches on your ever-constricting pussy. His hand has to leave one of your legs to push your hips down onto the seats, ensuring that you don’t take any more of him in. 

If you did, Joel thinks he’d blow his load instantly. 

Now you’re whining on his tip, begging him for more as he squeezes the base of his dick, trying to will his load to stay at bay. Your whines start to get a bit weaker, more watery and you start to sniff. Joel’s eyes snap to yours and see your face turned away from him with little steaks of water from wiped tears on your cheeks. He reaches for you immediately. 

“What? What’s wrong, honey? Does it hurt? Wan’ me t’take it out, baby? C’mon, talk to me.”

You turn to Joel and shake your head with a sad smile before trying to kiss him but he turns away to whisper in your ear. “Gotta tell me what’s wrong first, darlin’.”

He lets you cling to him, a hand still on your hip as you try to coax more of his cock into you, wiggling your hips and clenching rhythmically to try and convince him to push into you as you let it little sobs into his neck. “J- Just need you s- so bad J- Joel. I need it, need you.”

He swears his vision blurs for a moment. He’s heard you say this to him countless times and it turns him on, sure. But he’s always known you say it for that specific reason. 

This time, however, it feels like you really mean it. The way your body is crying- the way you’re literally crying for him. It’s all too much, it doesn’t feel real. He can’t believe the way he makes you feel so good, it’s all he wants; to make you feel good. His cock won’t stop pulsing inside you, he’s trying to calm down but your whines for him are almost too much. 

He starts thrusting into you, he doesn’t work his way up to the brutal pace he’s currently at. He started that way, fueled by the shout of his name from your lips. He hides himself in your neck and your hands come up to cradle his head against you, your hands digging into his soft hair as he ruts into you. “I’m not gonna last.” 

The words rush out of his mouth and you moan his name in response. Your pussy suffocates him, pulling him- forcing him closer to the edge. “I w- want it, Joel. Please cum inside me-” You gasp at your own words and Joel can feel his balls tightening at them. “Joel-” Your tone becomes frantic and you’re clawing at his shoulders, his neck and gripping his hair to pull his head from your neck. You’re staring at his face now, hands on either side, but his eyes are still closed. He’s still too close, he doesn’t want- he can’t risk cumming before you. He needs you to cum on him first, for you to moan his name in the way you only do when he’s got you shaking on his cock… but you’re whining at him to open his eyes, to look at you. You’re begging him. 

“Look at me when I cum, Joey. P-please. Joel-” You gasp out a moan and your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling him in for a blind kiss. He can’t help but open for you, letting you lick into his mouth, trying to ignore the way his stomach burns at the taste of your tongue. He takes a shaky breath to calm himself and you’re moaning against his lips again. “I need it.” You’re breathless as you try not to cum, letting out breathy keens and high-pitched sighs of his name. He can feel you twitching on his cock, squeezing him for a moment before whining and trying your hardest not to. He can’t deny you any longer. His eyes open and meet your instantly. 

You pull his head to yours, desperately trying to fall into his eyes as your orgasm crashes over you, only waiting for Joel’s gaze to unleash it. Your mouth opens wider the tighter your pussy chokes his cock, you’re gazing right into his eyes as you cream all over his cock. 

He can’t. His breathing picks up as you stare into him, so lovingly. He starts panting, his breath fanning over your face until little whines and curses work their way out of his throat. His chest is heaving and his hips are slowly losing their rhythm. “I-inside, Joel. Wan’ it.” Your words slur together as your eyes roll back at the pulsing of his cock inside you. 

Your name is falling from his lips like a plea before he brings his body flush against yours. His hand comes behind your head to pull you up into a sitting position as he leans back onto his heels, still thrusting into you slowly. “‘M gonna gi-give it to you, baby. Gonna fill you-” Pleasure runs up his spine with a shudder and his eyes fall shut. 

“ ‘M cummin’, sweetheart.” The words are more whiny than you’ve ever heard him and he starts spilling into you. He’s grunting out sounds that vaguely resemble your name, working himself up into a whine as he continues to thrust into you. His brows furrow and his hips stutter to a stop but he’s still filling you, so you start to grind on him. His eyes shoot open with a ragged moan. “Can’t- It-” He struggles to get the words out as you swivel your hips on him, enticing his cock to let another round of cum spit into you. His eyebrows pull inward as you smile at him deliriously, letting an innocent giggle fall from your mouth. 

He moans your name against your lips, his hands on your lower back to hold you up as he finishes filling you. His entire body shudders with the last rope of cum that shoots into you, earning a pretty moan from your lips. “Fuck, Joel.”

He grunts into your neck, placing soft kisses there while he tries to calm down. You’re humming at each one and stroking the back of his head softly, resting your head on top of his. He’s letting shuddering sighs out against your skin as his cock softens inside you. He slowly pulls his head out from your neck, you leave your hand on the back of his head and give him a crooked, lazy smile that warms his heart. “Tha’ was so much, Joey.”

He groans at the pet name and smiles at you fondly. You’re whispering fucked out praises in his ear as he cleans you up and you cling to him the whole way home. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joelxreader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel x reader #tlou hbo #pedro pascal last of us #the last of us smut #smut #nsft #tlou #the last of us #pedro pascal #luvrxsmut #luvrxfics #joel fic

[saccharinesunsetretired]

Wilbur Soot’s Guide to Side Hustles | camboy!Simpbur x camgirl!reader | Part One

My first ever series on this blog yayayayay! Also first time writing Simpbur. No fucking clue when the next chapter will be up though. Could be next week. Could be a month. Life contains many mysteries.

Summary: Wilbur has had a long line of obsessions in his time. In a desperate attempt to get the attention he craves, he starts making content online. When he encounters you at a party full of other creators...well, he's never been good at staying away from things that draw him in, and you may very well be his undoing.

Warnings/Tags: sub!Simpbur, dom!reader. Unrealistic sex/depictions of sex work (although I did try), smut, pegging, general simpbur creepiness, discussions of virignity/consent, low self-esteem and insecurity problems, unhealthy attitudes toward sex. Reader is AFAB and a woman

Word Count: 11.3k

MINORS DNI - BLOGS WITHOUT AN AGE INDICATOR GET BLOCKED, NO EXCEPTIONS

“Hey, creep.” 

Wilbur blinked and looked up from his math textbook. Standing right in front of him was a girl from his English course, a girl he’d had a crush on for years. They had never actually spoken. Instead, he’d done what he did best—watched from afar and stayed out of it. For a moment, despite her harshness, he just stared, basking in her attention. 

She laughed, and her friends laughed from a few desks away as they looked on. “Do you know how to speak?” she asked.

“Y-yeah,” he said. He could feel his cheeks burning. “What’s, um…what’s up?”

“‘What’s up’?” The girl laughed again. “I’ve seen you hovering near my locker, you fucking pervert.”

Wilbur froze. “I-I wasn’t—“

“Oh, you weren’t?” She leaned against a nearby desk. “Who’s been leaving me notes, then?”

Wilbur wanted nothing more than to curl up in a hole. He had been leaving notes. And admittedly, yes, some of them were creepier than others. The notes ranged from Good luck on midterms :) to You looked so hot in class today. And despite Wilbur’s general lack of self-awareness, he recognized how this looked. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. “I’ll stop.”

“If you don’t, I’m reporting you,” she replied. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

“Got it.” Wilbur had never felt more embarrassed. The other students began to whisper. He could feel a million eyes on him—well, what felt like a million, at least. “I’m so, so sorry.” He stared at his desk as his eyes stung.

“Good.” The girl stood there for another few moments. “It’s a waste,” she said. “You could almost be cute, if you weren’t such a freak.”

Present Day

You could almost be cute if you weren’t such a freak.

Wilbur remembered that, because of course he did. It was the closest he ever got to someone returning his affections. Yes, he knew it was pathetic, but that shred of affirmation went a long way.

He started bettering himself. It started with better hygiene, not wearing clothes multiple days in a row, properly washing his hair. His parents had been bothering him to do that for ages, anyway. He dressed better, tried to socialize. That last point didn’t go too well. He got bullied to the point that he ended up switching schools and had to deal with the fact that at least a bit of it was warranted.

He never saw that crush of his ever again. He developed new ones, new fixations. He didn’t leave notes, though, or stalk anyone or do anything to arouse suspicion. He promised himself that he could be normal, that he would be normal.

Well, perhaps he’d intentionally switched classes a few times to “keep an eye on” some of the people he became fixated on. But was that such a big deal?

And then university came. Loans, what felt like a million dollars in debt. One night, the result of a drunken decision, he filmed himself getting off. On an even more questionable drunken decision, he posted it online to some internet forum he had only heard of in passing. The second he remembered it the next day (after recovering physically a bit from his previous drinking binge), he was absolutely mortified.  And yet, to his immense surprise, people liked it. It wasn’t any sort of viral sensation, of course, but he had a decent number of comments when he woke up in the morning. At first, he was put off by the vulgarity of it, but then, he realized that this was how he could get the high that he’d always craved—attention. 

He started working on it. Filming videos, uploading photos. Pretty soon, he had an OnlyFans account going. His content was mostly solo stuff, webcam livestreams and private chats with his more dedicated followers. To his surprise, he started making decent money. It was nice to have something to help relieve some of the university debt. Plus, the validation was nice, even if it was only in praise of his body.

Besides, he had long given up the idea of anybody loving him for anything other than that.

Online, his persona was more submissive. It was easier for him, not having to fake confidence that he didn’t have. Instead, he could let himself moan as loud as he wanted, let the microphone pick up every small gasp and whine as he got himself off either with his hands or one of the million toys that he’d purchased since starting the job. The needier he looked, the better.

Then, he found the confidence to do his first collaboration. The benefits of moving to a larger area for university were plenty, but one of the biggest benefits turned out to be the fact that he was far from the only sex worker in the city. He lost his virginity to a girl on a livestream, although she didn’t know it was his first time. At least, she pretended not to know. Wilbur got the feeling that she could tell. Either way, it had made good content. In fact, it had been so profitable that she had invited him to a small gathering of some other creators—sex workers of all types.

And that was how he ended up holding a can of cheap beer in the corner of a party. It was at someone’s apartment, someone he didn’t know and didn’t care to know. The music was far too loud, the conversation too overwhelming. For a moment, Wilbur was sixteen again, sitting at his desk and wanting to disappear.

At least, until you walked in. You, dressed to the nines for a simple house party. For a moment, he locked eyes with you, and he nearly forgot how to breathe. He looked away first, too intimidated, too afraid. However, he watched out of the corner of his eye as you walked into the kitchen to greet the host of the party and grab a drink. 

When you reentered the living room, Wilbur’s eyes immediately went back to you. Suddenly, it was as if nobody else was there. He could feel it creeping up on him again, the beginning of an obsession.

Be normal, he reminded himself. Don’t be a creep.

He watched as you greeted almost everyone at the party, flawlessly interacting with the guests. Clearly, you knew your way around. Eventually, you made your way over to Wilbur. He took a sip of his beer to try and appear casual, only to choke slightly.

“Shit, didn’t mean to startle you,” you said, chuckling. “You alright?” You leaned against the wall right beside him, so close that he could smell your shampoo. Or maybe it was perfume. He couldn’t tell, and honestly didn’t care to discern the difference. 

“Fine,” Wilbur replied. He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. You caught me mid-sip.”

“My bad, stranger.” You offered your hand. “I’m Y/N. And you’re Wilbur, right? Allison told me about you.”

Wilbur hesitantly shook your hand before pulling his own hand away suspiciously quick. “Right, yeah,” Wilbur replied. “We did a livestream earlier.”

“I heard. Apparently it was a hit.” You briefly glanced at your phone before tucking it back in your pocket. “And you’re new on the scene…?”

“Yeah, pretty new.” Wilbur shrugged, trying to play it cool and relax his nerves. “That was my first non-solo livestream.” And my first time having sex ever his mind reminded him. Because people only want you if they can profit. 

He shook the thought away as you spoke again. “Damn. Pretty good for your first time, then.” You grinned at him. “Most people don’t get this kind of attention so quickly.”

“It’s…definitely been a surprise to me,” Wilbur agreed. A tense silence passed between you and Wilbur. “So…you also do the whole…camgirl thing?” He thought that he’d heard of you in passing, but before, he’d had no reason to look you up.

“Yeah! Two years and going. Still doing mostly solo stuff, but trying to branch out a little,” you replied. “It can be difficult to know who to trust in this industry, who genuinely has your best interests at heart and who is taking advantage.”

“I bet.” Wilbur set his beer aside. It wasn’t that good, anyway. “Do you like it?”

You shrugged. “Sometimes yes. Other times no. Depends on how creepy people are that day.” 

Wilbur laughed, nodding in agreement. He watched you as you took a sip of your own drink, some sort of cocktail. “But you make good money?” he asked. His frenzied mind attempted to come up with some flirtatious lines, but nothing else left his mouth. Considering how cringy all the lines were, it was for the better.

“Decent money,” you replied. “And you?”

“Decent money.”

“Cool.” Wilbur felt slightly uneasy as you eyed him up and down. “Hand me your phone,” you said after a moment.

Wilbur blinked. “Why?” he asked. Despite his questioning, he unlocked his phone and handed it over without complaint.

“So I can give you my number,” you replied. You began entering your contact information. “Not to be too forward, but the main reason I came to this party was just to network. Like I said, I’m branching out, and it seems that you’re doing the same.” You handed his phone back. “Maybe we could collab.”

Wilbur felt his heart hammering in his chest. The room felt like it was spinning, and considering he’d only had half a beer, he definitely couldn’t blame it on alcohol. “Oh. Um…you sure?”

You smirked. “You seem harmless enough, Wil. Besides, we can talk a bit beforehand, get to know each other a little. I’d rather not fuck someone without knowing a bit about them.”

“Fair.” Wilbur very shakily tucked his phone back in the pocket of his jeans. He noticed you starting to leave. “We’ll be in touch, then?” he asked.

You winked. “You can count on it.” Only a moment later, you disappeared into the crowd.

Wilbur left the party immediately after. He saw no point in staying if he couldn’t talk with you more. Even after that sliver of conversation, everyone else at the party seemed even more dull than before. He got into the back of a taxi, trying (and failing) to make his brain go quiet.

All he could think about was your skin under the multicolored lights at the party, the sound of your laugh, the brightness of your smile. He checked his phone, and all he could think about was the fact that your hands had touched it less than fifteen minutes prior. And maybe, just maybe, if he played his cards right he would get to touch you for real.

He imagined your hands on him, fingers curled around his cock. Nobody had ever given him a handjob before, but he (for better or worse) had always had a vivid imagination. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the window of the cab as he imagined it, your fingers on him. He tried to imagine every detail, the texture of your fingertips, the tone of voice you would use as you praised him.

By the time the taxi dropped him off outside his apartment building, he was achingly hard. He made it to his studio apartment, took off his coat and shoes, and immediately sat on his bed. He opened his laptop and searched for your name.

Sure enough, he found your OnlyFans, as well as the few free teaser clips that you’d uploaded elsewhere. There you were, a vibrator on your clit in one clip, your fingers teasing your own nipples as you moaned for the camera.

He slammed the laptop shut. No, he told himself. No more obsessions. If you manage to make this work, all she’ll be to you is a colleague, a coworker. 

Don’t be a creep.

He got out of bed and made it to the bathroom, where he stripped, tossed his clothes in the hamper, and turned on the shower. A cold shower would do the trick, he figured. Admittedly, he’d never actually tried the method, but it was the best he could think of. He could scrub away all thoughts of you, get rid of his hard-on, and call it a night.

He shivered as the cold water hit him. It felt fucking awful, cold water on his skin when all he wanted was warmth, but he toughed it out, waiting for his “problem” to resolve itself.

But it was no use. All he could think about was the sound of you moaning in that video, gorgeous lips parted, legs spread. He couldn’t help but wish he could hear you moan for real, not the fake sort of moans that are exaggerated for the camera. 

He gave up after a while and got out, wrapping his lower body in a towel as he did a walk of shame back to his bed. He sat on the towel and reopened his laptop.

He found your OnlyFans page, and without thinking, he subscribed. He wasn’t sure if you could see his username if he used his official account, so he made another guest account. You were worth the inconvenience. He started to scroll. He saw a clip of you and Allison, you grinding against her thigh. Another clip showed you edging yourself into oblivion, cheeks flushed, eyes watering. That was the clip he finally settled on. 

He edged himself along with the video, stopping whenever you stopped. If your hand stopped moving, so would his. In his mind, it felt almost like mutual masturbation, like you were really there doing this with him. He imagined you watching him, murmuring praise to him. 

It wasn’t often that he got off without toys, not because he couldn’t, but because he was almost always filming his orgasms, and thus toys were usually involved. Despite not having any added vibration or stimulation, he came harder simply from touching himself while watching your videos than he had in months. 

He laid there afterward, his own cum on his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut. You’re absolutely hopeless, he told himself.

And yet, he couldn’t stop now. Not when you were so close. 

It took Wilbur three days to work up the courage to text you, and from then on, conversation flowed naturally. At first, it was small talk about the industry—which people did you know, how many parties had you been to, what sort of content were you interested in making, and on and on and on. Wilbur was honest, admitting his lack of experience in the world of sex work, although he didn’t admit his lack of sexual experience in general. If he did, he might scare you off or make you hesitant, and he didn’t want that.

Conversation then turned to more personal matters. Still surface level, yes, but less detached than talks of industry and networking. He learned that you were a camgirl on the side, using the funds to add to the money you made from waitressing as you saved up. He also learned your favorite restaurant in the city (which he offered to take you to sometime, delighted when you accepted the offer) as well as your favorite bands, books, movies…all the surface-level questions he could hope to get answers for. 

To his dismay, two weeks of texts went by without you mentioning possibly meeting up to film together. Just when he thought that was off the table and this would only amount to friendship, his phone buzzed as he was working on an essay. He picked it up, assuming it would be either one of his parents or a spam call, and grinned when he saw your name. You were requesting a FaceTime call, so he quickly smoothed his hair before answering.

“Hey!” you said cheerfully. Wilbur was so relieved to see your face, not just on your OnlyFans, but you, you choosing for him to see you. You looked like you were fresh out of the shower, and he realized quickly that you weren’t wearing a shirt. He couldn’t see anything below your shoulders, but the realization still had him speechless for a moment before he regained his composure.

“Hi!” he said back with equal cheerfulness. “How’re you?” He flicked on another light in his apartment so that you could see him better.

“Good,” you replied. A moment of silence passed. “Listen, are you free Saturday?”

“Yeah, why?” The truth was, Wilbur wasn’t free Saturday. He was in a study group for an upcoming exam, but at that moment, he decided that he didn’t give a shit. He would happily flunk an exam if it meant getting to spend more time with you. He had only seen you in person once, and only for a tiny moment in time, and all he had thought about since then was getting more. 

“I have a business idea,” you said. Wilbur watched as you sat down on a couch at what must be your apartment. He caught a glimpse of the top of a towel wrapped around your torso, and although this thought made him slightly disgusted with himself, he couldn’t help but be disappointed. Still, his disappointment only lasted a second once your words sunk in.

“A business idea?” He immediately perked up. “What is it?” His mind went wild with possibilities. A livestream? Some short clips? A whole homemade porn film? 

“So…your online persona is more on the submissive side, right?” you asked.

Wilbur’s brows furrowed. “How did you know?” Although the two of you had talked about the industry, bonded over creeps on the internet and the like, the details of your content had gone mostly undiscussed. 

He noticed the rather sheepish expression on your face. “I may have done some research,” you admitted. “Is that weird?”

His heart skipped a beat, and he had to fight to keep himself calm. You had done research on him? That meant you had definitely seen some of his content, and not only that, but seeing his content made you more interested. Usually, he wouldn’t have cared. If it were anybody else, he wouldn’t have cared, but you? You, the subject of his obsession (he’d finally admitted to himself that’s what it was), the person he thought of every night before going to bed, thought he was desirable? Maybe not desirable, but at least worthy of seeing, worthy of working with. That was enough.

“It’s not weird!” he reassured you. “I…I may have done the same.” He did not tell you that he had a whole folder on his laptop that was only clips of you, that he’d labeled each video, that he’d gotten himself off to every single one. He definitely didn’t tell you that while filming himself the day prior, he’d been thinking of you the entire time. No, that was too much. That was creepy, that was obsession…but based on your admission, he figured a bit of the truth couldn’t hurt.

Thankfully, you reacted positively. “Thank god,” you said, laughing softly. “I thought you’d think I was a pervert.”

“No! No, of course not,” he said quickly. “I would never.” He settled his back against the headboard of his bed. “So, anyway, what was the idea?”

“Well, as I was saying,” you continued, “your persona is more on the submissive side. I portray myself as more dominant. Very convenient for us, no?” Wilbur nodded along as you spoke. “I was wondering…” You trailed off. “I can be forward with you, yeah?”

“Honestly, I’d prefer it that way.”

“Great! How do you feel about getting pegged?” A moment of silence passed as Wilbur’s brain completely short-circuited. He didn’t realize how long he’d been quiet until you spoke again. “Okay, uh…maybe I was too blunt.” He heard your awkward laugh through the phone.

“No! No, not too blunt at all. I’m fine with it,” he replied. “Yeah, no, that sounds great.” He tried to hide the nervous undertone to his voice. Using toys on himself is one thing; being on the receiving end of someone else’s movements is another. “I’d be down for that.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “You were quiet for a moment, there.”

“Yeah! Yes, I’m completely sure,” Wilbur replied. “You want to, um, livestream that? Or are we just filming…?”

“Just filming,” you replied. “Having sex live is way more complicated. This way, we can try a couple different angles to see what looks best on camera.”

“Right.” Wilbur took a deep breath. “That sounds good. You said Saturday?”

“Saturday, yeah,” you responded. “And I was thinking we do it at my place. No offense, I’m sure your setup is nice, but I’ve been in the game a bit longer. I’ve probably got nicer gear.”

“That’s great. Sounds good.” Wilbur’s nerves kicked up a few more notches. He was going to embarrass himself, he just knew it. He was going to walk in, immediately get hard just looking at your setup (which was already somewhat familiar to him) and look like a loser. He tried to shove that thought away.

Thankfully, it seemed that you sensed his discomfort. “Listen, uh…I know that you’ve only done something like this once,” you said. “If you ever change your mind, you can leave. I won’t judge you for that, even if we’re in the middle of filming. Consent rules don’t magically go away when there are cameras rolling.” 

Wilbur’s heart thumped in his chest. You were smiling warmly at him over FaceTime, and he wanted nothing more than to be there with you. His thoughts weren’t sexual, at least not in the moment. 

His mind wandered. When was the last time he’d been held by somebody? He’d never once been held by somebody who liked him romantically. He wasn’t sure that anyone outside his family had ever so much as hugged him. The thought made him dizzy. “Thank you,” he managed to say.

“Don’t thank me. It’s basic decency.” You continued smiling at him. “Oh, we don’t have a time set. Does one work?”

“One is fine,” Wilbur replied. “I’m totally cool with one.”

“Sounds good. Saturday at one, then,” you said. “Be ready to film.”

“I’ll be ready,” Wilbur promised. He just hoped that it was a promise he could keep.

He spent the rest of the week panicking. He shoved himself into schoolwork, studying, finishing up the essay that you had distracted him from. On Saturday morning, he woke up, shaved, took a shower, blow-dried his hair and got dressed. He knew that the clothes would be coming off, but he tried to dress somewhat nice anyway. He figured that even his nicest jeans and a button-up would be fine. He kept reminding himself that a business encounter was all this interaction would be.

Around noon, he got a text from you: 

Hey ;) ready to film?

He quickly replied. 

Born ready. Send your address?

The next message contained your address. He took a deep breath, brushed his teeth (for the third time that day) and set off. He left his apartment, got into his car, and started driving.

He put on a playlist on the way there, one he had made containing music from your favorite bands. He kept constantly checking himself in the mirror to the point where he realized he would hit something if he didn’t stop. He was an absolute wreck of nerves.

He pulled into the apartment parking lot and got out of his car. He walked into the building, took the elevator…

And there was your door. He stepped toward it and hesitantly knocked three times. The wait was agonizing. He stood outside the door for a minute before you opened it.

“Sorry!” you said. “I was in the middle of getting the lighting set up. Come in!”

“No worries.” He followed you inside. Your apartment was immaculately clean, with enough decorations to add character without being overwhelming. He followed you down the short hallway to your bedroom.

Sure enough, it took a lot to keep himself calm the second he stepped through the door. The whole place smelled like you, and it was enough to make him lightheaded. He looked at the setup, and it was honestly impressive. You had a professional-level camera setup, multiple lights, and cameras at various angles. “This is…wow,” he said. “You know your shit.”

“I’m a professional.” You winked at him as you adjusted the angle on one of the cameras. “Okay, so…a bit unconventional, but we’re going to do a test of sorts to make sure that the angles on the cameras are correct. Is that alright?”

Wilbur shrugged. “As you said, you’re the professional. I’ll let you call the shots.” He had no idea what a “test” would entail, but he wasn’t about to question it. He stood off to the side, watching you as you worked. Your white tank top left absolutely nothing to the imagination. 

“Great.” You adjusted one of the lights, lowering it slightly. “What do you think? Too bright in here?”

Come to think of it, it was a little blinding. “Maybe a bit softer,” Wilbur suggested.

“Good idea.” You nodded in agreement and dimmed the lights. “Better?”

“Better.” Wilbur took a few deep breaths. “We good to go?” 

“Good to go.” You sat on the bed, examining the angles from your sitting point, clearly trying to decide if they were any good. “Yeah, definitely good to go.”

“Okay, then.” Wilbur stood there awkwardly. “What, um, what do I do?”

“Like I said, I want to test the angles before we start actually filming.” Wilbur watched as you pressed record on all the cameras. “I figure we just experiment with a few positions, see how the camera captures it. You can stay dressed if you want—-like I said, this is just a test.”

“Alright,” Wilbur murmured. He sat on the bed and nearly froze when you cupped his cheek. His face was so close to yours that he could barely breathe.

“You still okay with this?” you asked, searching him for any sign of hesitation. He nodded. This was terrifying, but the thought of walking away was even scarier. “Good.” Mere seconds later, you pressed your lips to his.

It took him a second to kiss back, but once he started, he never wanted to stop. Your lips were soft against his, just testing the waters at first. He had no idea where to put his hands, but he didn’t have to think about it for long, as you quickly pushed him onto his back. He made a small noise as you got on top of him and continued kissing him.

Wilbur didn’t consider himself a good kisser. It wasn’t like he had much experience. The kisses became rushed and sloppy, and just as he started to settle into the rhythm, you were getting off of him and checking the camera footage. He sat there, dazed, as you made your way around the edge of the bed, checking what the cameras picked up. You were explaining something about the process, something about lighting and shadow and…whatever else, Wilbur wasn’t listening. He could still taste you, still feel your lips against his.

He only snapped back to reality when you approached the side of the bed again. “You still okay with the pegging thing?” you asked.

“Yes,” he breathed out. He could feel how hard he was, the slight friction against his jeans, but he didn’t have it in him to be embarrassed anymore. Who cared if this was just for work, just for content? He was about to have you, and having you in any capacity was better than not having you at all. 

“Alright, then.” He watched as you opened a nearby dresser. “I have a couple things that you can choose from…” You pulled out a box and set it on the edge of the bed. He scooted closer as you opened it, his throat catching at the array of items. “These are all the toys I have that are compatible with the harness,” you explained. “I’d rather us not start filming until the main event, so to speak. We can get you all prepped before that.”

He nodded, breath catching in his throat. “Sounds good,” he choked out. He glanced over the collection of toys. Some of them were definitely too big for him, so he avoided them. His eyes finally landed on a pink dildo, just slightly bigger than the one he’d used in a recent clip. “That one, maybe?” He pointed.

“Good choice,” you said. “Just got this one.” You picked it out of the box and laid it on the bed. Wilbur’s eyes stayed on you as he watched you gather more stuff—-the strap-on harness, some lube, a buttplug. You went about it with the precision of a doctor gathering medical supplies. It was both hot and slightly unnerving.

“Do we have everything?” Wilbur asked. He shifted slightly, both to get comfortable and because it was difficult to sit still when he was so close to you. 

“Yep! We’re set.” You sat back down on the bed close to him. He shuddered as you rested your hand on his thigh. “Still okay?”

“Still okay,” Wilbur confirmed. He closed his eyes as you leaned in to kiss him. He kissed you back, less sloppy this time, less desperate. He wanted to be able to contain himself, at least a little. He didn’t know what you’d think of him if he appeared too needy.

Your gentle hands pushed him backward, and he laid down on your soft mattress, eyes unfocused as he looked up at you. He pulled you in for another kiss, and whined as your tongue found his. The sound was pathetic in his mind, but it seemed to spur you on further. He gasped as you grinded against him. Even though it was only the tiniest bit of friction, it was one of the best things he’d ever felt. His hands wandered to your waist, sliding under your tank top. It was the boldest thing Wilbur had done so far, and he was more than pleased when you leaned further into his touch. 

A moment later, your lips left his. He frowned for only a split second before realizing why. When he opened his eyes, your hands were brushing against his as you took off your tank top, leaving absolutely nothing underneath.

He stared. He couldn’t help it. He wanted so badly to touch all of it—-your stomach, your bare waist, your chest. It was almost too much. His cheeks went red as he heard you laugh softly. “Enjoying the view?” you teased.

“Oh! Um…sorry,” he said sheepishly. He forced his eyes upward, and when he did, he locked eyes with you. To his surprise, there was no sign of disgust or embarrassment on your face, only amusement. “You’re just gorgeous. Couldn’t help it.” 

“Of course I am. How else would I have gotten this job?” You smirked down at him, and he managed to laugh despite his nerves. “In all seriousness,” you said, “thank you. You’re pretty good-looking yourself.”

It was one of the more tame comments he’d gotten in recent times, but it was by far the best. “Thank you,” he replied, his voice coming out as a squeak. Before he could apologize for that, you were kissing him again. Your hands found the buttons of his shirt, and he helped you take it off without hesitation. His mind went blank as your hands wandered his skin, tracing the lines of his abdomen and chest. He returned the favor, letting his hands wander a little. He held back, not squeezing or grasping, just lightly touching. 

You slid out of your shorts, and Wilbur fumbled with the button of his jeans. Once he undid that, you got his zipper for him. You lifted yourself up for a moment so that Wilbur could remove his jeans. He shivered as his bare skin met the cool air of your room, then frowned as you got off of him. “We should get you ready,” you said. He nodded, finally removing his boxers.

He let them fall to the side of the bed, leaving him completely exposed. He could feel how hot his cheeks were, but you didn’t seem to be judging him for it. In fact, you were focused instead on putting lube on your fingers, occasionally glancing at Wilbur. He shivered, parted his legs without you asking. He laid there for a moment, staring at your ceiling, trying to calm himself. He only had a moment before you were back, settled down beside him. “You ready?” he heard you ask. He could only nod in response. 

He felt a finger press inside of him, and he sighed. His eyes closed, his lips parted, and he let himself revel in the feeling. For once, he had someone else’s fingers, someone else’s touch. Of course, only one finger wasn’t nearly enough, but it was a perfect start. He moaned quietly as you moved your finger in and out, slowly, almost teasingly. He spread his legs further for you, and you scooted closer. At one point, your finger curled just enough that it brushed against his prostate, and the moan that he let out was downright desperate. He clasped his hand over his mouth, only for you to move it away. “Where’s the fun in that?” you murmured. He couldn’t even process your words before you brushed his prostate again, and he nearly moaned even louder.

“More?” he questioned. “Please?” 

“Since you asked so nicely…” You slid in another finger and he whined. It was then that a thought occurred to him.

When he used his own fingers or his own toys, he never properly prepped himself. Not ever. It always hurt a little bit, since for him, he was always doing it just for the camera. It made him realize how much he neglected himself when it came to his job, never truly considering his own boundaries or what felt good to him. And yet, here you were, and it didn’t hurt with you at all. Even though this was just for work, just for content, you were being more considerate and gentle with him than he was with himself. He made a mental note to thank you later.

In the meantime, your fingers curled against his prostate, and he let himself moan and whine, gripping at the sheets and breathing heavily. He let his mind go empty, let himself fully relax, let himself be yours even if only for a moment in time. He felt it as you switched between brushing against his prostate and prepping his hole, gently stretching your fingers to spread him a little wider each time. “This feel okay?” you asked. 

Wilbur nodded, unable to speak properly. You continued your movements, and Wilbur continued his moans. Your fingers were gone all too soon. Wilbur gasped a few times and forced his hazy vision to focus. “All good?” he asked, a little concerned. He watched as you wiped your hand off with a wet wipe before tossing the wipe in a bedside trash can.

“All good,” you replied. “You feeling ready? I grabbed a plug just in case you wanted to use that for more prep, but if you’re feeling good, I say we go for it.”

“I’m good to just go for it,” Wilbur said. To his surprise, his voice was a lot more steady than it had been. Something about your presence was calming, even in a situation like this that Wilbur had no experience with. He watched as you got the harness ready and strapped it on. Okay, maybe the dildo was a little bigger than he’d originally thought, but he would be fine. He hoped. “Thank you for, um, helping me get ready.”

“Why wouldn’t I help? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” you said. You finished putting on the harness before coating the strap in more lube than was probably necessary, just for good measure. “The nice thing about not working for some big porn company is that we get to do things in our own time. We’re not rushing to fit some director’s schedule.” 

Wilbur nodded. “Right.” He’d heard varying things about being in professional pornos from various people in the industry. Experiences ranged from incredibly negative to incredibly positive, depending on the company, the director and any number of other factors. Wilbur was grateful to be making enough money on his own to make this venture worth his while. It was nice not having to risk mistreatment. “Still. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He watched as you pressed “record” on each of the cameras. You turned back to him, your expression focused, methodical. “Ready?”

Wilbur nodded. “Ready. Um…safeword?” He definitely didn’t plan on using it, but it was always better to be safe.

“Is the stoplight system good with you?” Wilbur nodded. He’d never used it, but he knew what it was. “Perfect,” you replied. “Let’s get this show on the road, then.” You smirked, and Wilbur grinned back. All the nerves were gone, replaced with excitement and focus. The cameras were rolling. Time to put on a show.

Wilbur wiggled his hips slightly, getting comfortable as well as a bit closer to you. He glanced at one of the cameras and shifted a little so that it would catch his facial expressions better. His eyes quickly went back to you. He felt your hands on his thighs. “You gonna be good for me?” you asked, your voice a little louder than it had been earlier. He figured it was just for the cameras.

“Y-yes,” Wilbur said, slightly exaggerating the tremble in his voice. From the look in your eyes, you approved. “I-I’ll be good for you. I’ll be a good boy, I promise.” 

“Yeah?” Your hands ran up and down his thighs, causing him to tremble and shiver. “Then be a good boy, and tell me what you want.”

“I want…I want you to fuck me,” he said. He realized then that he was being too quiet for the cameras to pick up, but thankfully, you saved the scene.

“A little louder, sweetheart. I couldn’t hear you.” 

“Fuck me,” Wilbur said, a little louder. “Please.” Despite the fact that it was just an act, he knew that the way you called him sweetheart would be playing on repeat in his head for weeks to come, if not months. His obsession was certainly deep enough for that.

“Good boy.” He felt the tip of the strap press into him, and he gasped. “Aw, already too much?” You asked teasingly.

He shook his head frantically. “No. Not—-not enough. Need more. Please…” He tried to scoot closer to you, to get more, but you shook your head.

“You only get what I give you. Understood?” He nodded. “Good boy.” You continued pressing the strap into him, painfully slow, giving him a chance to adjust to the size of it.

He whined, trying not to arch his back or move too much. Instead, his hands gripped at the sheets. He tilted his head to the side a little bit, right in the view of the camera to show off his face contorted with pleasure. His viewers always liked that; he figured that yours might as well. “Fuck,” he gasped out. “You’re so…so big…”

“Too much for you? Or are you gonna be good and take it?” You pushed the rest of the way in, and despite feeling fuller than he’d ever felt, not an ounce of pain came with it. Wilbur was grateful for that.

“I can be good,” Wilbur promised. “I can take it. I swear I can be good and take it.” He whined as you shifted your hips a little, and his hands went to grasp at your back. “Please. Please start moving. I need—-I need you.” Not even Wilbur could tell at this point where the genuinity ended and the act began. 

You grinned. “You’ve been good so far. I feel like you’ve earned a reward.” You started shifting your hips, slow but deep thrusts that had him reeling. You weren’t quite getting his prostate, and he suspected that it was on purpose, you wanting to draw this out longer for the cameras. 

Wilbur tilted his head back slightly. His eyes fell half-closed, and he peeked out at you from beneath his lashes. He let his lips remain parted. He suppressed his moans, opting instead for gasps and grunts. It would make better content, he figured, if he could start small and build up to it. It was taking a lot of effort to hold back.

“More?” he asked meekly, trying to make his voice loud enough for the cameras, yet quiet enough to keep up the submissive appearance. Although, he supposed it was more than an appearance. With some time, practice and confidence, maybe he’d be able to play a different role. For now, this is what it was. His body trembled slightly with the nerves and the sensations. 

“Hm? What was that?” Your movements slowed down a little, much to Wilbur’s dismay. “Did you just ask something of me without saying please?” You leaned down, your face hovering inches from his. “You remember when I told you that you only get what I give you, right?”

“Y-yes,” Wilbur said. “I’m sorry. I’ll be good.” He sighed as you ruffled his hair, his brown eyes wide and gazing up at you full of desperation. “I promise.”

“Then say please,” you replied. “You can say please, can’t you, baby?” 

Wilbur nods, a sharp, jerky movement. “C-can I please have more?” he asks. 

“More what?” you asked innocently. Your hips continued rocking back and forth, so languidly that it was frustrating. “What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words.”

“I-I want it harder,” Wilbur replied. “F-faster. Please? Please, I need it.” With every passing moment, Wilbur became less and less aware of the cameras picking up his every move. If he focused hard enough, he could pretend that this wasn’t all an act. It was a dangerous game, pretending that way, but as time passed, he cared less and less. 

“I guess I can give you what you want,” you said nonchalantly. “If you promise to be good.” Your movements picked up speed, hips thrusting slightly faster but just as shallowly. You weren’t thrusting all the way to the hilt, but Wilbur did his best to be patient despite wanting it desperately. 

“I promise,” he panted out. “Please. I’ll be good.” 

“Good boy,” you cooed. Wilbur felt a shiver go down his spine, and his shivers immediately turned to gasps as your thrusts got harder, faster, more forceful. He tried to tilt his hips a little, make you brush against his prostate, but you refused to comply, still avoiding the spot entirely. He let out a whine, high-pitched and needy. It was almost embarrassing, but based on the way you only smirked wider and picked up the pace, it was clear that you weren’t about to judge him for it.

Wilbur let himself get a little louder. He was tempted to cup your face, to run his fingers gently along your sides. He almost did before remembering that this wasn’t real. You didn’t love him. This was just sex. His second time ever, with someone he’d been crushing on obsessively, and none of it was even real. Despite how good he felt physically, he started to feel like shit mentally. The thoughts combined with your movements caused him to tear up a little bit, much to his embarrassment. He felt his eyes burn a little, and he glanced away from your face, trying to hide it.

It was no use. You saw. “Color?” you asked softly, too quiet for the cameras to pick up properly. Your eyes held a somewhat concerned expression. Immediately, Wilbur felt bad for upsetting you. 

“Green,” he replied easily. “I’m okay. Promise.” He even managed a small smile. 

You nodded, the worry slowly melting from your face. He moaned as your movements picked up speed again, and then whined as you finally, finally, hit his prostate. His moans got increasingly loud as you continued hitting that spot with every thrust of your hips, burying yourself inside of him to the hilt of your strap. He looked down between his legs as best he could, watching you move in and out of him. He could only look for a moment before having to tilt his head back and whine once again.

“Look at you,” you cooed. “So desperate for my cock, huh?” 

“Y-yes.” Wilbur gripped the sheets with one hand and your shoulder with the other. “Please, please, please don’t stop.” His voice came out sounding whiny and pathetic, wobbling with every word. 

“You’re doing so good,” you replied. “Taking me so well.” Wilbur moaned once more as you gripped his hips, using the hold as leverage to help you thrust harder. 

He could feel himself getting close. He noticed how much pre-cum he was leaking, small drops of it dripping down his cock. “S-so close,” he whined. His hand subconsciously went to his length, but you quickly pulled his hand away.

“Not without my permission,” you chided him. He gasped as you continued your movements.

“Please,” he said desperately. “Please, I need…fuck, I need you to touch me. Please.” 

You grinned and wrapped a hand around his cock, slowly pumping him up and down. He let out an embarrassingly loud moan. After just a few movements of your hand, his hips were twitching. He let out a series of swears and pleas, his words nearly incoherent as he finished, cum coating your hand and his stomach. You murmured soft words of praise, but he could barely register them. 

His vision was hazy as you stopped moving. He gasped for air, panting. He felt numb and overstimulated all at once. His hand that was gripping the sheets slowly loosened its grip, and he let his hand fall from your side. “Thank you,” he murmured. His throat felt scratchy and dry. 

“You were such a good boy,” you said, running a hand down his hip to his thigh. You pulled out, and he gasped at the feeling. You leaned in close to him, your faces inches apart. “We’ll have to do this again sometime, yeah?” He nodded eagerly before you pulled away. 

He watched as you turned off the cameras, and he finally let himself relax, laying down fully on the bed. His gaze went from you to the ceiling before he closed his eyes. He needed a break, a few moments to collect himself, to come back to reality. His eyes still burned, and he let a few tears escape down his cheeks. How could something so pleasurable also be so painful? 

He laid there for a few moments, taking deep breaths and trying to calm himself. He closed his eyes, trying to will the tears away. He couldn’t get over the thought that this wasn’t enough, that he needed more of you, and he needed it to be real. It was as if all his years of loneliness were catching up to him at once. Every night that he wished someone would hold him, every day that he’d spent pining after people who would never love him back…not to mention the constant self-loathing that came from the small amount of self awareness that he had, the awareness that he was a creep who nobody could ever love. 

Wilbur heard you as you took off the harness before walking over to his side. “You alright?” you asked. Your voice was soft, concerned. “Was I too rough with you? Do you want some water, or maybe something to eat?” 

Wilbur opened his eyes and sat up a bit. “Um…water would be good. And no, you weren’t too rough with me.” He wiped his tears off his cheeks and managed a smile. “You were a lot less rough with me than I am with myself, honestly.”

You grinned back at him. “Okay, I’ll get you some water. If you want to clean yourself up, the bathroom is to the right of the entrance to my room. There are washcloths in the drawer under the sink.”

“Thanks,” he said. Some warm water to help wipe the sweat off him sounded almost magical. “I’ll go do that.” He slowly got off the bed, feeling a little shaky. Your kindness and the sweet sound of your voice had taken away some of his pain, but the loneliness lingered in his mind like an ever-present itch that he couldn’t reach the source of.

“I’ll be here when you get back,” you called after him. He went into the bathroom and closed the door. 

He used the bathroom, cleaned himself up, and was about to head back to your room when something caught his eye. You had a laundry hamper in the bathroom, and on top of the pile of laundry, nearly blended in with the surrounding fabric, was a pair of black underwear.

He immediately beat himself up for even thinking about taking it…but god, it was tempting. He would have something of you always, something you’d touched. More than just touched. He could keep it in his room, with his things, a little souvenir. 

The only other souvenir he’d ever kept was from the girl he was obsessed with in high school. She had once torn out a page of notes and dropped them in the trash can, and he had fished it out and kept it. Of course, he’d thrown it out after she’d called him out for being a creep. 

Never had he had something like this. But he quickly realized that, even if he wanted to, he couldn’t take it. He was naked, so it wasn’t like there was a pocket to hide it in. 

He pushed away the disappointment and left the bathroom. It was better this way, better that he not have the opportunity to do what he wanted. Despite knowing that it was for the best, he couldn’t help but feel upset by it. 

He re-entered your room, where you were sitting on the bed. You’d changed out the duvet, and there was a glass of water on the nightstand for him. You were dressed again in sweatpants and a t-shirt, and he felt more exposed than ever. You turned when you heard him enter, and immediately, he was given a smile. “Feeling better?”

Wilbur nodded and smiled back. “Much better, thanks.” He glanced around and saw his clothing on the floor. “I’m just gonna…”

Your eyes flitted to the pile of his clothes. “Right. Good idea.” You then glanced at the dresser in the corner of your room. “Hold on, I have something you can wear instead of that uncomfortable button-up you were wearing.”

Wilbur was about to protest and say that the button-up was fine (despite the fact that it was cheap and a little itchy in reality), but he quickly shut his mouth and worked on getting his jeans and boxers on. If you had something for him to wear, something that was yours, that would be a dream come true. He watched you as you shuffled through a drawer. 

“Here it is,” you murmured, more to yourself than to him. He saw as you picked up a t-shirt, one that was definitely too big for you. “I have this extra shirt. I accidentally ordered a few sizes too big, so you can have it if you want.” You tossed it over to Wilbur, and he caught it.

It was a band t-shirt. Wilbur recognized the band as one of your favorites. “Are you sure?” he asked. The material was soft in his hands, and Wilbur swore that it smelled like you. 

“Yeah, I’m never going to wear it. It’s yours.” 

Wilbur held it like it was precious. He examined it before sliding it on. It fit him well, not too loose but not too tight. He looked over at you and immediately noticed that you were looking right back at him. “It fits really well,” Wilbur said. “Thank you. This is much better than my other shirt.”

“No kidding,” you replied. “That thing felt like it was awful to wear.” You paused. “Plus, you look good in it.” 

Wilbur could hardly believe it. You had complimented his appearance twice. In one day. “Thanks,” he said, his voice slightly shaky. “I, um, appreciate it.” He reached for the glass of water on the bedside table and sat down in order to steady himself. He took a sip, immediately feeling refreshed. He hadn’t realized how dry his throat felt.

“Anytime.” You sat beside him on the bed. “Can I…ask you something serious?”

Wilbur put down the glass and turned his full attention to you. He saw the slight concern in your expression, and his small smile quickly faded. “Sure. What’s up?”

You tilted your head slightly as you looked at him. “Are you okay? I know that you said you were alright, but you seem a little shaken up still. I’m just a bit worried.”

He sighed, trying to figure out what to say. On the one hand, he could be honest. At least, a little bit honest. You didn’t need to know the full truth. On the other hand, he could insist that he was fine. He worked through the options in his mind, and settled on a half-truth.

“I, uh, have never been pegged before,” he said. “This was my first time. I think I just got a little overwhelmed is all.” He paused, and when he saw your expression grow more concerned, quickly added, “But I’m fine! Really, you were great. You didn’t do anything wrong, and it was a good first time. A great first time.” He could feel his cheeks get slightly hot, but he did his best to stay relaxed.

You looked surprised, your eyes slightly wide. “You…you got pegged for the first time, just now, on camera?” You shook your head, a barely noticeable movement. “That’s…brave. I’ve never done something for the first time on camera.”

“Yeah…yeah, I probably should’ve prepared beforehand,” Wilbur said. “But I just figured…it’s not like I’ve never done anything anal on my own. I figured it would be fine, and it was.”

“But you looked upset,” you said.

“Just overwhelmed,” Wilbur replied. “I promise it’s okay.” The last thing he wanted to do was deter you by making you feel bad. Besides, it really wasn’t your fault. 

“Wilbur…” You looked away, pausing as if considering what to say. “Allison showed me a short clip the other day of that video you two filmed, and…and I don’t know if it was just an act, but I got the feeling that you were very new to what you were doing.” You looked back at him, and he felt the intense desire to disappear, to change the subject, because how could he admit how little experience he had without being intensely embarrassed? “Was that…did you ever have sex before that?”

Once again, Wilbur had the choice between honesty or a lie. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that he wanted to try for more with you—more than just friendship, and definitely more than business partners. The terrifying thing was this: if he wanted that, truly wanted that, then he would have to be honest with you at some point.

“...No,” Wilbur said, barely audible. He avoided eye contact. “I was, um, too nervous to tell her that it was my first time. I wanted to do a collab, so I just didn’t say anything.” He fidgeted with his fingers, trying to distract himself. “I…maybe I was wrong to do that. I don’t know. I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, I just didn’t want to wait around for things to happen for real, because I need the money now, not later, and…and it didn’t seem like anything was going to happen anytime soon, so…” He shrugged, hoping that the explanation was enough.

“And…and was it good?” you asked. “Like, was it a good first time for you? Did you enjoy it?”

Wilbur thought back to it. Allison was nice, sure. She was amenable, very understanding when it came to the fact that Wilbur was new in the industry. And yeah, Wilbur had finished that first time with her, but when he really thought about it, he couldn’t say it was enjoyable. It wasn’t enjoyable, being with somebody he had no connection with. It wasn’t enjoyable knowing that this incredibly vulnerable moment of his life was being livestreamed in real time, and it definitely wasn’t enjoyable that his first time was done for profit rather than for the experience, for the fun.

“I mean, does anyone enjoy their first times?” Wilbur managed to dodge the question, but his eyes still didn’t meet yours.

“Yeah! Well…I don’t know. They’re generally not good in the sense of being physically pleasurable, but they don’t have to be awful,” you said. “I just…I can’t imagine doing that in front of a camera, streamed live like that. And it sounds to me like you did it because you didn’t feel like you had any other choice.”

Wilbur finally looked up at you, scared of a reprimand, scared of your judgment. But all he saw in your expression was worry and kindness. “I…I’ve just never really had the opportunity,” he said quietly. “I’ve never been in a proper relationship. I kissed a girl, like, once in high school, but that was it. And then not again until Allison. I just wanted to get it over with, to feel…I don’t know. Normal, I guess. Desirable. Like…like someone wanted me.”

The second the words came out, Wilbur was mortified. He’d never told anyone any of this, and the fact that he’d told you of all people, the second time he’d ever spoken to you in person, made him wish he could turn back time and erase this entire conversation. 

He felt you gently take his hand. “I’m sorry,” you said, “that things didn’t turn out the way you would have liked.”

Wilbur looked down at his hand, gently wrapped in yours, and he gave it a small squeeze. “It’s okay,” he said. “It wasn’t awful.”

“Still,” you said. “It sucks.”

“It does suck.” He watched as you let go of his hand, hiding his disappointment. “Anyway, um…I’m sorry to unload all that on you,” he said, his self awareness returning to him.

“It’s fine, Wil. We’re friends, and I wouldn't have said what I said if I wasn’t prepared for a response,” you said. “Really, it’s okay.” 

He could hear the softness in your voice, the hint of concern. It nearly made him cry again, just knowing that somebody cared about him at all. “Thank you,” he said. “I…I really appreciate it.” The words felt so tame in comparison to what he wanted to say, but all the words he could think of seemed too much. He couldn’t believe that you’d referred to him as a friend, that you wanted to continue associating with him. It seemed too good to be true.

One thing was certain: it would take a lot of willpower to make this obsession go away, and Wilbur wasn’t sure he had it in him to let you go. 

To Wilbur’s absolute delight, his time with you didn’t end there. After filming, he stayed for dinner. He ate pizza with you on your couch, watching a cheesy 80s movie and making fun of the special effects. Admittedly, he watched you far more than he watched the film, and he felt shivers every time you looked his way.

Over the course of the next week, he messaged you every day. Sometimes, it was because he messaged first, and other times, you were the one to reach out. He forced himself to exercise some restraint, to not be too eager. You made it difficult. Many of the texts were about the video, you giving Wilbur updates on the editing progress. At the end of the week, it went live. Wilbur was notified by your message:

Done! Let’s see how this goes

Wilbur grinned, swallowing back all the anxiety that he felt. What if it was bad? What if people didn’t like it? What if his inexperience showed on camera? 

He shoved it all down and sent a reply.

Sweet

After a moment, he was struck both by how boring his last message was and how great of an opportunity this presented him with. 

Want to celebrate tonight? Drinks on me?

He waited anxiously for a reply. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed with no response, until finally, your name appeared on his screen. 

How about that bar a block from my place? You know the one?

Wilbur did, in fact, know the one. He’d passed it on the drive to your apartment. 

I know it. Send the address and I’ll be there

Eight?

He smiled.

Eight sounds perfect :)

Once again, he couldn’t believe his luck. He took a shower, brushed his teeth, combed his hair. He left early to make sure that he was there in time and that you wouldn’t be stuck waiting for him. The cab ride to the bar felt like it took a million years, and when he got there, you were sitting at the bar waiting for him.

The bar was packed. There was music blasting over the speakers, some pop song that Wilbur couldn’t place, though he’d heard it over the radio a million times. He sat beside you at the bar. “Hey!” he said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. 

You greeted him with equal enthusiasm. “You made it!”

“Of course I made it,” he said, grinning. He could already feel his cheeks get warm, although whether it was from the crowded bar or his proximity to you, he couldn’t tell. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Only about five minutes,” you replied. “But I got here early. Still waiting for the bartender.”

“Perfect.” Wilbur glanced at his surroundings. The scene reminded him of when he’d first met you. It was hard to believe that it had been less than a month. “Is the video doing well?” It was too early to draw many conclusions, of course, but he was curious.

“Holy shit, you have no idea,” you said, grinning. “People love the video. Already, I’m getting messages asking for more of it.” You seemed proud of yourself, and Wilbur couldn’t blame you. You’d done most of the work, after all. 

He could feel his heart pounding. People loved it, which meant that you would probably want to do it again. More time spent with you, more excuses to see you…it all sounded perfect. “So when is part two?” Wilbur asks. “If people love it, I mean…we should probably get to filming more material, right?”

Your smile faltered, and his heart immediately sank. Of course. Of course it was all too good to be true, too perfect to be real. He should have known better. When you finally spoke, Wilbur was already bracing himself for rejection. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you said. Before Wilbur could say anything, you continued. “Not because I don’t like you, okay? I…I won’t lie, it was fun. I’m just…”

“You can be honest,” Wilbur said, so quietly that he could barely be heard over the sounds of chatter and music. “If you don’t like me and don’t want to do it again, that’s okay. I get it.” He knew that he sounded pathetic and self-deprecating, but he had no clue what else to say. 

“Wil, I just said that it wasn’t because I don’t like you,” you said. “Please take my word for it.” Wilbur nodded, slightly embarrassed. “The reason I don’t want to film more is because I’m a little worried about you.”

Oh. In a way, that was a relief to hear. It meant that you didn’t dislike him. On the other hand, he was terrified. Did you see him as pathetic? He wouldn’t blame you, but it was still a blow to his ego. “...Why?” he finally asked.

“I just…” You sighed. “You were literally crying, Wil. It was concerning. And I’m not saying that you did anything wrong, because you didn’t, I just think that…” You laughed, a short, nervous sound. “Fuck, I don’t know how to phrase this without sounding insensitive.”

Wilbur froze. You were going to call him a creep, pathetic, a loser. He just knew it. “Just say it,” he said, his voice trembling.

“You have some things to sort out,” you said finally. “This type of job can ruin you if you don’t have the self-esteem to handle it. I’ve seen it before. People go into it feeling like shit about themselves, and then all the validation they get is purely sexual, and it fucks with them when they don’t get that validation anymore. It can be hard to separate your sense of self from your sex appeal, you know? But you have to.”

Wilbur took a deep breath. That was somehow worse than anything he’d anticipated you saying. He wasn’t a creep in your eyes, maybe, but he was broken. He had low self-esteem. You saw him as something to be pitied, and that was a hard pill to swallow. He kept opening his mouth to speak, only to close it again. He finally gave up. “Okay,” he said finally. “Yeah. That’s fine.”

You went quiet. It was only until the bartender showed up that you spoke again, ordering some drink that Wilbur couldn’t make out the name of due to being lost in his own thoughts. When you asked him what he wanted, he replied with water. He didn’t feel like drinking anymore. 

After the bartender left, Wilbur felt your eyes on him. “Yeah?” he questioned. “What?”

“Did you actually listen to what I said?”

“What? Yeah, of course I did.” 

“Wilbur…”

“I get it,” Wilbur said quickly. “I know that I’m…that I’ve based my whole life around this, and I know that it’s concerning, and I get it. But what else am I supposed to do?”

“Take a break,” you suggested.

“I need the money.”

“Okay, well, go back to solo content for a bit. Because I think you need a moment to think things through.”

It didn’t sound so bad, actually, going back to doing things alone for a while. As long as he still had you in some capacity, maybe it would turn out okay. “Alright,” he said. “I could do that.”

“Good.” You thanked the bartender as he handed you your drink before turning back to Wilbur. “I think it would be good for you.” 

“Probably,” he admitted. He sipped his water, trying to enjoy your presence despite the war of emotions he had going on. It took him a moment for him to ask the question that he wanted to ask. “...Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“No,” you replied immediately. “I just think you need some time off.”

He accepted the answer, but there was one more thing he needed to ask. “I’m sorry if this is…weird,” he said carefully. “But I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date sometime. Like, a proper date, not…”

“An amateur porn filming session?” 

“Right. That.” Wilbur felt his hands trembling. “Um…we could go out to dinner sometime. Wherever you want.” He felt dizzy, his breathing shallow and his heart pounding way too fast. “If you want to.”

You took an agonizingly slow sip of your drink. “I’d like that,” you said finally. You smiled at him, and it was like everything falling into place. Wilbur could breathe. You hadn’t rejected him. 

And soon enough, he would have you, one way or another.

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot smut #wilbur soot x reader smut #simpbur #saccharine writes

[district9and3starkids]

Little detail in NPMD that’s living rent free in my mind (spoilers ahead!)

I know the fandom has been obsessing over figuring out the lyrics to everyone’s favorite chaotic™️ scene but I wanna acknowledge something in the choreography that caught my attention💃🏻

Okay so first off MASSIVE PROPS to Lauren for choreographing this so amazingly. If you pay close attention you’ll notice that each of the Lords in Black has their own cute little 8 count dance related to their character (some more clear than others).

Pokey💙

switching back and forth between his hand and the mask (I’m assuming representing him wanting to block out every voice that’s not his own).

Nibbly💗

need I explain???

Wiggly💚

I’m assuming the arm motions are supposed to represent his tentacles

Blinky💜

also self-explanatory

Tinky💛

… okay honestly this one tripped me up but it fits the vibe

Okay so this alone was a cool discovery, but THEN I noticed that the Lords in Black cycled through each other’s choreography throughout the scene. After a million watches that I absolutely don’t regret I’m pretty sure I figured out the pattern to be: Wiggly➡️Tinky➡️Nibbly➡️Blinky➡️Pokey🔁 in a looping order. There were a few discrepancies in this pattern (I think possibly either due to choreography mistakes or maybe it was just to make the choreography look more symmetrical?) but this was the order that most commonly persisted:

Anything in parenthesis is what I think they were supposed to do because it’s a simple switch that fits the pattern (Corey never did Tinky’s dance but did Nibbly’s for 2 cycles, Lauren had Nibbly and Tinky’s reversed).

Anyway this may already be a thing because I definitely need to get caught up on Hatchetfield lore but I’m wondering if there’s any significance to this order?

It almost matches the order that we were introduced to the Lords in Black in (Blinky being the one out of place):

Wiggly (Black Friday)

Blinky (Watcherworld. NMT Season 1, episode 1 part 2)

Tinky (Time Bastard. NMT Season 1, episode 2 part 2)

Nibbly (Honey Queen. NMT Season 2, episode 1)

Pokey (Yellow Jacket. NMT Season 2, episode 4).

It almost matches reverse order to when we were first introduced to all of the dolls in The Witch in the Web: Pokey➡️Blinky➡️Tinky➡️Nibbly➡️Wiggly. Nibbly and Tinky are reversed, which could maybe be connected to Lauren reversing their dances in the order but I feel like that’s too far of a reach:

It also almost matches the order that the names are read from in the black book (again reverse order and Nibbly and Tinky are switched):

^creds to whoever typed out the script cause my digital ticket expired by the time I realized I wanted to double check this

It makes sense that invoking the names ends with Wiggly since it’s been implied at multiple times that he is the most powerful and terrible of the Lords in Black but other than that I’m clueless.

One moment that perfectly matches the pattern in the dance if you reverse it is the one real picture we have of the dolls from Nick’s Twitter:

If you start with any of them and go backwards it matches the (most consistent) pattern from the dance perfectly: Nibbly⬅️Tinky⬅️Wiggly⬅️Pokey⬅️Blinky

There’s more stuff that shows up in the choreography throughout the dance that intrigued me but this post is already way too long and I’m guessing with my luck there’s probably 0 significance to the order that the dances were done in buuuut yeah I’m driving myself insane on this so if anyone has any insight let me know!

Nerdy prudes must die🤪

#starkid #team starkid #nerdy prudes must die #npmd spoilers #joey richter #starkid returns #lords in black #hatchetfield #jon matteson #lauren lopez #kim whalen #curt mega #pokotho #bliklotep #t’noy karaxis #nibblenephim #wiggog y'wrath #the guy who didn't like musicals #corey dorris #mariah rose faith #angela giarratana #tgwdlm #black friday musical #npmd #peter spankoffski #nick lang #stephanie lauter #grace chasity #wiggly #nibbly

[kazhanko-art]

It continues to astound me that westerners will say shit like “yes Russia has done bad, bUt uKrAinE hAs DoNe bAD tHinGS tOo”

The vast majority of people aren’t denying that Ukraine is an imperfect country. The majority of people are aware there are bad parts about Ukraine. The vast majority of people will not deny that there are bad Ukrainians.

Anyone with a brain will know that a the population of a country of around forty million is going to have people who aren’t perfect little saints about being invaded. No I would not be surprised to hear there have been Ukrainian soldiers who committed war crimes; quite frankly I’d be shocked if after all the looting, abductions, tortures, mutilations, rapes, murders, destruction and whatever other horrendous thing the Russians have done I found out not a single person maybe sought revenge for that (and no I’m not saying warcrimes are okay but Jesus Christ use your brain for five seconds. It’s a war, of course not everything will be heroic and nice)

Sure, that stuff will need it’s prosecution in due time, and sure, there’s probably things you could reasonably criticize the Ukrainian government and army for (incidentally, many Ukrainian journalists continue to do so, even in English, but who’s counting)

The thing is that most of you who bring up Ukrainian faults use it to distract from the fundamental reality of this war: Russia is invading Ukraine and committing genocide. The victims of genocide and invasion shouldn’t have to be saints for you to not treat these sides as equal. Because they aren’t.

Believe it or not that applies to the victims of imperialism, colonialism, and war in general. I don’t know why we in the west have this obsession with perfect victims, but it has to stop. Even when we advocate for victims we act as though they were these beacons of life rather than tackling the simple truth that genocide, mass murder, and oppression are simply not justified, regardless of how “good” or “bad” the victims are.

People are flawed, cultures are flawed, so stop with this shit of “who has committed the most sins” so we can get back to genocide being wrong, thanks

#ukraine #stand with ukraine #westsplaining #apologies to my non western friends and siblings #i’m sorry people here have such sticks up their asses about your suffering #genocide #war #fuck russia #colonialism #imperialism #ukrainian

[martellspear]

it bothers us because you have delusions that martell princess who was raped but nobody except her family was bothered by it cause she was so irrelevant suddenly should matter more than Jon Targaryen's parents who according to canon 'he loved her she loved him' and their love brought about the birth of the prince who was promised

suck on it irrelevant ugly woman stans and you have the gall to compare princess viserra to her when viserra was million more beautiful than the dornish scum and her ill spawn could ever be

Jon WHO? LMAO. I wasn't going to post this - my moots & followers don’t deserve to read this shit -  but it made me laugh more than the others

Rhaegar chose Lyanna, I agree.... but it was to die. Do you think he wouldn't have taken here somewhere safer and with more people to ensure > her < safety during childbirth if he wanted to? Please.

He could've let Elia die in a third pregnancy and be free from her and marriage duties. The thing is that the moment he found out it might happen he went "no❤️".

Also, I'd be embarrassed to use the show as source. Especially if my pRoMisEd pRiNcE's end was that one.

'Ugly woman' and that's her:

"The crowning of the Stark girl, who was by all reports a wild and boyish young thing with none of the Princess Elia’s delicate beauty."

I can't believe you're so obsessed to the point of seeing posts I don't tag😭. Go use that time to read the books, they're fun.

On a more serious note [tw: rape]:

You are disgusting. Do you know how hard someone has to try to be worse than some ASOIAF men?

‘In Casterly Rock, it was common knowledge that Gregor Clegane had killed Elia and her babe. They said he had raped the princess with her son’s blood and brains still on his hands.’

That’s what you are mocking. I don’t care that she’s a fictional character, what you and your rabble say about her is truly sickening, it’s heartbreaking that you get to vote.

Someone who’s not from her family and cares a lot about what happened is Ned. I’m sorry if his own sister’s death didn’t influence his non-Jon decisions but Elia’s did.

Thus, one of the reasons he gives Cersei the chance to escape is his memory of Elia and her children's bodies presented to Robert and his reaction, you can’t even deny how much it affected him.

‘Ned had named that murder; Robert called it war. When he had protested that the young prince and princess were no more than babes, his new-made king had replied, “I see no babes. Only dragonspawn.” Not even Jon Arryn had been able to calm that storm. Eddard Stark had ridden out that very day in a cold rage [...]’

A few other quotes: 

‘Tyrion watched the faces of the Lords Tyrell, Redwyne, and Rowan, wondering if any of the three would be bold enough to say, “But Lord Tywin, wasn’t it you who presented the bodies to Robert, all wrapped up in Lannister cloaks?” None of them did, but it was there on their faces all the same. Redwyne does not give a fig, he thought, but Rowan looks fit to gag.’

"Cersei is frightened of you, my lord … but she has other enemies she fears even more. [...] In Dorne, the Martells still brood on the murder of Princess Elia and her babes.

‘Some nights, Ser Barristan wondered if he had not done that duty too well [...] m. Princess Elia and the children. Aegon just a babe, Rhaenys with her kitten. Dead, everyone, yet he still lived, who had sworn to protect them.’

‘The Dornishmen burn to avenge Elia and her children [...]’

I know you can’t relate but Elia was loved. It wouldn’t matter if ‘only her family’ cared, what happened to her was brutal and nothing changes it. You people just come off as rude, uneducated and ignorant. 

Fun fact: the name 'Elia' is mentioned 75 times throughout the series, 'Lyanna' 53 and 'Rhaegar', thanks to Dany, 258

#i'm sorry but i'm going to tag because jon targaryen is GOLD #at this point it's probably just a closeted elia stan trying to make us laugh i swear #elia martell #tw: rape

[showtoonzfan]

I’m trying so hard not to rant about that dumb idiotic thread on criticism that Viv wrote the other day on how she thinks criticism is nothing but shitting on others work and how you can’t get a job in the professional industry if you do critique, and I just…..I’m tired. I did say I would stop ranting about her as a person and yeah I am done doing that but whoo boy….all I can say is that you can tell Viv has a gigantic ego problem and was pampered, being put on a pedestal the majority of her life and knows nothing about how the real world works because she’s always been given special treatment. Every time I hear she had another twitter meltdown, I just keep picturing the image of a baby kicking and screaming while a bunch of people surround it and offer millions of candy and toys to make it feel better, aka a spoiled princess. Like sis, everyone loves you and everyone supports your stuff at the end of the day, you literally have nothing to bitch about, a few negative criticism reviews on YouTube ain’t ganna hurt you. Get off the internet and grow thicker skin, because if you did have thick skin and can take criticism like you’ve so desperately been trying to prove to everyone, you wouldn’t be making these threads in the first place.

And please shut the fuck up about the “no one understands queer media”- bullshit, you literally have no right to pull that card when EVERY single gay character you write is a hyper sexual horny guy obsessed with cock. Maybe learn how to write gay characters better and understand LGBTQ+ media yourself Hm?

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #helluva critical #anti vivziepop #Vivziepop #vivziepop criticism

[ramen8baka]

Gojo x reader Gojo has a crush on his student yn she's 18-19 y/o and yn doesn't like him she feels uncomfortable and always kinda avoid or ignore him and howd Gojo feel about that?!?

hmm… I’m sensing a bit of yandere 🤔

but I’m so so so so so sooo sorry this took forever 😭 I’ve been unbelievably busy. Anyways, here u go 🫶

tw: yandere, violence, overall pretty creepy

“Come on, keep going! Then after we can go out to dinner,” gojo says as you groan.

“I’ve told you ten million times! I don’t like you like that and your way too old for me.” You give up on your last push up.

“hey! Get back up keep going,” he says. You had no idea why he made you do push ups all the time. Unless if it was to stare at you. See, gojo had been all over you and wanting to take you out ever since he met you, really. And you didn’t want to. At all. “I’m done. I’m gonna go home now, Gojo.” You say as you grab your things and start walking. He just runs after you and starts walking alongside you. “How about i take you out then? All on me,” he puts his hands up. You just keep walking.

when you make it to your house you have to slam the door as fast as you can in order to not let him inside. “y/n! I need to tell you something!!” He knocks on the door. More like bangs. This was getting out of hand. •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• You stretch and pull the covers away to start your day. It was the weekend, so no training today. You and your friend were meeting up for lunch. The both of you were best friends. A lot of people mistake you for a couple when it’s really just all platonic

“Y/n!” A voice calls. Oh, shit. You think. Gojo. “go away, gojo I’m meeting with my friend.” You say flatly. “I can walk you then,” he says

“no thanks, I’m ok” you don’t blink an eye at him and keep walking. A little faster this time. You reach the restaurant with gojo still trailing behind you. “Seriously! It’s the weekend so I don’t need to train or anything. You should go relax too.” You raise your voice a bit. He ignores your comment, still walking with you. You decide to just ignore him.

when you get to the restaurant you go inside to check in and see your friend waiting at a table. “Yuji! What’s up,” you both do your signature handshake. “hey!- why’s gojo here?” He asks. He kinda knew about his obsession with you.

“he was just ‘walking’ me here” you roll your eyes a bit so only yuji can see. “oh. See ya later gojo!” Yuji waves. Only he can make gojo go away. You guessed also because you were in a public place. Before Yuji can say anything you start talking

“I know. I’ve been trying to knock some sense in him, but he doesn’t care,”

“it’s ok, I can walk you home tonight,” He offers and you smile.

“thanks,” you respond

“What do you think you’re gonna get?” Yuji asks, flipping over his menu. “hmm I’ll prolly get the tonkotsu ramen,”

“of course, classic y/n!” He laughs. You laugh along, feeling happy for the first time in awhile. The whole time you can’t help but feel like someone is watching you.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• Yuji walks you to your house and you still feel unsettled even as you open the door and set down your belongings. You walk into your bedroom to get some sleep.

“hello, my dear. How was your dinner?” You scream. What the hell?! “gojo, what are you doing here! How- how did you get in my house!” You yell.

“oh, I just wanted to see you,” he stands up.

“go away! I’m done with all of your crap. Following me around, everything! Why are you so obsessed with me?” You ask with a shaky voice.

“oh, are you telling me to stop? I wouldn’t want to do that if I were you~“

“w-What do you mean?” You back away and hit your closet. You turn around to see your closet open with a bunch of…

“Dead bodies?!” You scream and run out of your house. Those dead bodies weren’t strangers. No. Friends, some family, even people you’ve only talked to a few times! Gojo chases after you.

“y/n, don’t be afraid. I did all of this for you” he smiles creepily.

“will you be mine?”

#Yandere gojo x reader #Gojo #jjk #x reader #anime

[biquinntile]

TLDR: My biggest frustration being a late-diagnosed autistic is getting my brain to re-frame any of my behaviors. I’m having trouble figuring out how to help myself.

I was abused growing up, including some medical abuse, but my mom knew I had ADHD and lied to me and convinced me I didn’t. She never got a diagnosis but would ask me questions like “What are you, autistic?” I didn’t really understand what either of these terms meant back in 2012 when I was 13/14. So of course I said no, not even realizing until later that this was a rhetorical question (I am sighing so hard rn).

Fast forward to now, me age 26, being recently diagnosed as a person with ADHD and Autism. I spent my entire life up until now masking but even that feels like a weird word to use because it was never intentional. If I had needs not being met, I would find a way to get them met without talking to anyone or I would ignore them/push them away so that I “didnt have” that need anymore. In social situations, I made a lot of mistakes and found myself being very confused…so I would avoid being social altogether, or I would drill myself relentlessly before and after any social situation…and I mean any social situation. I remember people always criticizing me for “taking the long way” or not taking the most efficient route, but for me the “most efficient” route has never given me the results I wanted. It felt like I was a robot who had to constantly tinker with my own parts, with the goal being that one day I would be able to exist with other people naturally the way they do with each other. Not a robot, a person.

It’s very difficult to wrap my head around this not being a plausible goal anymore. I spent so long doing what was more difficult to mask symptoms I didn’t know I was masking. I spent my entire life operating under the belief that everybody was trying as hard as me to deal with sensory and socialization and all that jazz, it’s just that I was too weak to do it as well as they did. And it didn’t matter because I was doomed to fail.

I’m really working hard to not have such negative beliefs about being neurodivergent but it’s difficult bc in my brain I always hoped that one day I would just suddenly flip a switch and things would be easier. I would understand people and they would understand me. I wouldn’t spend weeks (if not months) obsessing over one singular topic. When I look back on moments where the autism was probably showing, I have all these memories of my parents calling me aggressive/angsty/spoiled/stupid/lazy/sensitive/etc. My stepdad would always say “You can’t be that stupid” and in my head, I would say “Well I guess I fucking am.”

All this to say, I have a lot of trouble now even recognizing when I’m doing a form of “masking” because it is so ingrained in me, and had I not done it, I would have faced worse abuse than I already had been facing. It took me until I was 24 to realize I was wearing a size too small in shoes because I believed a level of discomfort was just always a part of life, for EVERYONE not just me. I recently realized that I am not capable of crying in front of other people, even people I care about and trust, because when I used to cry people would find my reasoning trivial or tell me that I was too sensitive and they would (and I wish I was kidding) laugh or make fun of me. That is a silly thing to make fun of someone for, I know now, but I’m not sure how to change the behavior. I find day after day that there are a million things I’ve been overcompensating for or putting up with that I thought was normal or I thought I needed to do to keep up with everyone else (no wonder I feel so tired all the fucking time damn).

All this to say, I’m not even exactly sure what autistic symptoms I have or how to tackle them or even really how masking works entirely. I feel like I don’t know anything about myself. I don’t know how to help myself. Where do I even start? People keep throwing this “high-functioning” term at me, which I guess is fair, but I also feel like my bones ache at all times and I have constant rapid-fire anxious thoughts filling up my brain and I constantly feel like everyone on the earth is touching me and crowding me, even when I’m alone in my room. So I guess if I can keep pushing myself through those feelings, I’ll be fine and functioning fine but I don’t really think I can do that anymore.

Any advice or reading material would be greatly appreciated. Sorry if I didn’t explain things well. I’m trying my best out here

#autism #neurodivergent #late diagnosed autistic #audhd #actually autistic #autistic adult #idk man

[thatstormygeek]

Shocking absolutely nobody:

Chappelle opens the special by telling a story about visiting Jim Carrey while he was shooting the 1999 film “Man on the Moon,” where the actor famously went method on set while portraying comedian Andy Kaufman. Dave recalls being “very disappointed” that he spent the day speaking to Carrey pretending to be Kaufman, ending by saying, “That’s how trans people make me feel.”

He then addressed the controversy surrounding his anti-trans material, saying, “If you guys came here to this show tonight thinking that I’m going to make fun of those people again, you’ve come to the wrong show. I’m not fucking with those people anymore. It wasn’t worth the trouble. I ain’t saying shit about them. Maybe three or four times tonight, but that’s it. I’m tired of talking about them. And you want to know why I’m tired of talking about them? Because these people acted like I needed them to be funny. Well, that’s ridiculous. I don’t need you. I got a whole new angle coming. You guys will never see this shit coming. I ain’t doing trans jokes no more.”

He then said he was going to transition to joking about “handicapped” people instead because “they’re not as organized as the gays. And I love punching down.”

A few minutes later, Chappelle revisited the topic, saying, “To be honest with you, I’ve been trying to repair my relationship with the transgender community cause I don’t want them to think that I don’t like them. You know how I’ve been repairing it? I wrote a play. I did. Cause I know that gays love plays. It’s a very sad play, but it’s moving. It’s about a Black transgender woman whose pronoun is, sadly, n***a. It’s a tear-jerker. At the end of the play she dies of loneliness cause white liberals don’t know how to speak to her. It’s sad.”

Later, he quipped, “God forbid I ever go to jail. But if I do, I hope it’s in California. Soon as the judge sentences me, I’ll be like, ‘Before you sentence me, I want the court to know I identify as a woman. Send me to a woman’s jail.’ As soon I get in there, you know what I’mma be doing. ‘Give me your fruit cocktail, bitch, before I knock your motherfucking teeth out. I’m a girl, just like you, bitch. Come here and suck this girl dick I got. Don’t make me explain myself. I’m a girl.'”

Chappelle also said the attacker “had a knife that identified as a gun” and “I triggered them because I had done LBGTQ [sic] jokes and it turns out this fella was a ‘B.'” He also joked that, knowing the attacker was bisexual, he “could have been raped.”

According to this site, Chappelle's net worth is $70 million. A more timely comparison to the below screenshot would be Forbes' Celebrity 100 Earnings list that had him at #98 (for $35 million) as of 7/15/2018.

#us politics #trashpool says fuck this shit #dave chappelle #transphobia

[gibblegabber]

i wrote most of this a month ago but might as well spill my personal nonsense regarding kick on his 14TH ANNIVERSARY WHHHHHHHH

nothing interesting it’s truly like a diary entry

i’ve been keeping to myself while i wind down from another hyperfixation with KB:SD, because it has to come to an end, because there’s very few people left in my life who were there in the fandom while it aired, because i get so fucking depressed when i think about it.

how do i describe this. Kick reminds me that i’m alive. he ALSO reminds me that i’m a failure. he’s the reason i finished art school and also (part of) the reason i stopped pursuing art as a career. the show’s run was the best time of my life and at the same time i was dealing with an overwhelming amount of trauma.

and i packed ALL of that into this silly 6.5/10 rated cartoon. why??? because it just happened to be THERE when I was going thru some shit?? sometimes i think “this could have been any cartoon, the timing is what mattered” and other times i’m like no…the adventures we had in mellowbrook were genuinely incredible and if it were any other fandom, i wouldn’t have met the same amazing people!!! do you know how thankful i am to have Kachiimi and Misha in my life still??? REALLY FUCKING THANKFUL. i don’t deserve them in the least!! they’ve known me at my worst and happened to also SEE me at my worst in person and they’re still my friends and i love them very much, i hope they know that.

and if anyone’s still following me that knew me during the KB years, or was friends with me during that time… 1.) i’m sorry. i was crazy LMAO and 2.) just know you made the whole experience so so awesome :) i appreciated so much that the fandom was a tight knit group of people, no drama, just a great place to be when my life was falling apart around me.

yea if i psychoanalyzed this whole thing i wouldn’t like the answer. but. it doesn’t change how much Kick means to me, and how much he’ll always mean to me!!

it had always been a bucket list thing of mine to be the number 1 fan of something at some point. ever since i was like nine years old i was like “man that’d be cool if it happened”. never in a million years would i have guessed that it would be this. but in a weird way Kick was exactly who i needed at that time. someone whose failures were just his fuel for success. someone who didn’t let his shortcomings stop him from achieving his goals. someone who kept going even if the world was against him. looking back it’s really no surprise that i got so attached.

obviously i’m far from the number 1 fan position now. who knows if i ever really was; i only knew a fraction of the fandom that called me the “queen of the KB fandom”, and Sandro had called me the number 1 fan at one point so i just took it all to heart. i would argue that Aisha took that position when school and jobs and life started consuming my life more than fandom did. or well, all of this is a moot point when you consider Jackie who is definitely 100% his number 1 fan LOL. but wow, what a time. we were so lucky to interact with the crew as much as we did.

it doesn’t seem like much but it really made me feel like i could do anything. if Kick had gotten a third season you KNOW i would’ve stopped at NOTHING to be on the team in some way shape or form. i would’ve flown out to LA in an instant and not looked back. despite everything. i would’ve done it.

kinda sucks considering uhhhh THINGS that got revealed about the director years later, so in the same vein i’m very happy that Kick did not get a season 3. but when the show ended something in me died, or i came to terms with something, idk what it was. something like: i knew i’d never feel the same way about a cartoon again so i didn’t bother trying. i stopped drawing almost entirely for 10 years.

aaaand it’s true. over a decade and i never came close to the level of obsession i had with Kick, and never really wanted to either. THEN i got slapped in the face with IZ and well…let that be a long and cheesy post for march 30th or something. :P and as much fun as it’s been and continues to be, it’s a DIFFERENT sort of experience from KB. it can’t compare. maybe in 10 years i’ll look back on IZ friends and fandom times and reminisce fondly on them too.

KB:SD is stuck where it was. if that makes any sense. there’s a lot in the show that i don’t think modern day fandom would take kindly to. there’s a lot of crack shipping and shenanigans we got up to back then that isn’t okay now. (god… okay i don’t miss that part LOL. i cringe painfully at a lot of it, but i DO miss when people understood the fucking difference between fiction and reality. it was a different time for sure.) it just is what it is.

and that’s okay. i’m gonna let it go, again, and i’ll be back on and off. it hurts. it hurts every time this happens but that’s okay because Kick taught us to live till it hurts. :) 🤘🏼✨

#mina talks #mina visits mellowbrook 2k24 #this is really long and personal and kinda outside my normal range #so like. apologies in advance i guess.

[miaoniuu]

There is an organized network of groomers who have been operating in plain sight for over a decade on 4chan. There has been one confirmed murder, many confirmed s*xual exploitations and two potential drug related deaths. I don’t know where to talk about this anymore. I am so scared for these girls.

I made a post on Reddit about a network of groomers that exist on Discord, Endchan and 4chan and have been operating in the open for over a decade and it has been a whirlwind. 3 posts highly upvoted and subsequently removed, multiple death threats of course, and some participants saying conflicting things. Psyops, outrage, emotional contagion, politics, this one really has it all apparently.

I’m going to send you the formatted post below directly because, again, this post is being removed very fast over and over despite the intense attention and concern.

There are girls actively in danger.

——————————————————

There is an organized network of groomers who have been operating in plain sight for over a decade on 4chan. There has been one confirmed murder, many confirmed sexual exploitations and two potential drug related deaths. I don’t know where to talk about this anymore. I am so scared for these girls.

I could write a million paragraphs like I have done for years but I’m just tired, and nothing has ever come from it. No matter how many documents and and all the direct evidence I provide, it seems that this isn’t really an issue people care about, but I am not ever going to give up on these girls.

A lot of these girls are from broken homes and deal with poverty, mental illness, previous child grooming or molestation and the circle of predators knows this well, because they recognize patterns in posting from those types of disadvantaged minors and they hunt them down accordingly.

Here is the first thing you need to see. These are the current girls being targeted. Two of them are minors.

I have reported this to MissingKids, to ISPs, relevant local authorities, I have tried getting in touch with parents, I’ve tried sending this to content creators, I have exhausted every tool I have and my mental fortitude is limited. It feels like nobody cares.

From here on out, I’m listing three names of the most egregious cases, posting archives and I will do small descriptions but I don’t even know what I can say anymore at this point. It all feels so pointless at times. Some of these girls have been cyberstalked and doxxed for nearly a decade, starting when they were minors.

Ciara “Eliza” Horan - possible OD death, possibly in hiding. Whatever the truth is, does not want to be found. Please respect that. Has ties to Jet Neptune which is relevant in the next description. Her underage nudes were leaked regularly.

Relevant image: Ciara & Jet + obituary

Marky J Thompson - groomed by Sam Hyde, a public figure who committed statutory r*pe against her. When she came out to the public with this, he launched a smear campaign making derogatory and disgusting sexual skits about her on YouTube. Her underage nudes have been leaked countless times. Jet Neptune is a long time friend, a technical producer, and basically the shadow of Sam Hyde. You’ll never hear about Jet without Sam being mentioned along with it. Marky and Ciara were on and off friends. Jet and Sam are directly linked to both.

Relevant image 「EXTREME NSFW WARNING」: tr*nsphobia, ab*se, r*pe, r*cism, extensive vulgarity (I did not make this, it was written and compiled by someone on Twitter

Bianca Devins - I don’t want to spend too much time on this one and I have no need to link or compile because it is just horribly depressing and on top of that, it’s public enough to learn most of what needs to be learned on your own. There is still an active smear campaign against her happening despite her being dead.

orbiters - predatory individuals who mistake a controlling obsession with something poetic like limerence.

/r9k/ - revived instance of 4chan’s original Robot9000 board, where every post had to be an original post.

Endchan - dedicated board pertaining to 4chan’s e-girls, both active and past, alive and deceased.

I have archived the entire Endchan board, updated as of today. I have downloaded the files in case of deletion as well. I’m working on a timeline and organized document. I will be archiving and downloading every post I make to document any and all deletions and takedowns, and expanding more on this post as time goes on.

You can find the current version of the archived board here. Extreme NSFW, very long + trigger warning.

#4chan #endchan #bianca devins #r9k #grooming #predator #sexualassault #mental health #mental illness #murder #tw death #tw rap3 #tw overdose #egirl #depressing shit #depression #borderline personality disorder #bpd #stalker #doxxing #tw stalking #please help #crime #urgent #fish tank #fishtank #sam hyde