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precious-little-scoundrel · 5 months

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From Sarge’s kids I think I’m (as of now) excited to learn more about Daisy. She’s got a lot of Elvis in her and she witnesses Elaine go to hell and back to help him beat his addiction and although she’s independent I hope there’s gonna be someone who will be able to do the same for her or stand by her. Not to mention she’s got a twin who they come off as polar opposites (what with Rosalee being a huge Daddy’s girl) and her comments towards her older sister Ella’s marriage - I get the feeling there’s a lot to unpack there.

I think sometimes Elvis felt like he was too much to love and I see a lot of his personal insecurities in Daisy, she even is a popstar like him and that’s a lot of people loving you with maybe them feeling like they aren’t really known for who they are deep down.

I am so happy to hear this, I’ve got a little started on each kid’s own fic (I want one for each like I had for Jesse, just to establish them and then let loose with the intermingling) and I really think hers is compelling. It’s been truly a blast to get to know her and I’ve gotta be honest she may be the most Lisa-like of any Sarge kid in many ways, partly because she’s so Elvis incarnate. It took awhile but me and my scheming buddies have cooked up a good partner for her and she will always have her family as backup and even her godfather Marlon. I think she will, as you said, be publicly adored but can be rather offputting one on one, even though she desperately needs connection. I think eventually, and not after too long, all these relationships get far better, and Daisy finds her little nook in the family easily. She is the one to go to for the zero bullshit takes or help hiding a body. Loyal and fierce that one.

And here, since you made my day asking about her, have a little random snippet I’ve written about her first big debut recording which came from her rehab scribbles and, unfortunately for the family members her lyrics feature -becomes a sensation.

Era: 1978-9ish??

Warnings: moderate…mentions of past divorce, infidelity, a daughter sorta writing a hit tell all? remincence of a one off threesome and Elvis having straight man panic for it (I’m afraid this couple is polyamorous central I’m the 60’s but nothing explicit) big ole family chat with the grown kids, chaos as can be expected…

What about Wendy?

“Daisy Mae!” Elvis bellows her full name because the crime warrants it, and from behind him, her voice answers, not in person from her place sprawled on the couch but behind him, coming through the stereo in a clear cadence that his creative side must acknowledge is skilled and evocative. What Elvis doesn't find so praiseworthy is his Dear Daughter hanging the family laundry out for all to see with lyrics like:

—“So I'll lock the window and turn on the AC, You'll throw your rocks, and you'll scream that you hate me, But it gets old being forever 20, And what about my wings? What about Wendy?”—

out on a clothesline for all the world to commentate on his failings and his marriage.

The music video coming out tomorrow on MTV, teased as featuring a fresh faced Daisy in a montage of her mother’s most iconic looks -including that secretive wedding gown so few of the nation ever saw, rather hammers home the not so subtle point. As far as Elvis is concerned this is about as disloyal as it gets.

And he is having none of it.

“It’s art, Daddy.” Daisy murmurs, utterly unphased by the hurricane of wrath she can match once she gets that cup of coffee Rosalee is making her.

“Is this how you see us?” Elvis demands and Jesse winces to the side, things had been going so smoothly after Danny was born but lord, the Presley’s just can’t manage to be calm for long, Daisy had to record that stupid black book she scribbled in during rehab and, my does it have some choice takes on the events of the last decade. “This how you see your childhood?” Elvus goes on, “Where we loved ya like no one’s ever loved any kids and gave ya everythin’ and-“

“-and slammed a buncha doors in between.“ Daisy shrugs, not meaning to be cruel, but it’s the truth and she’s never had her sibling’s affinity for the affection that the rest of the kids take as blood money for the insanity they got put through. Daisy doesn't hold a grudge against anyone for her childhood, in fact, she’s thankful for the writing material. But she’s not gonna be sorry for writing shit as it was.

Which was mama playing a haggard Wendy while Daddy flitted in and out of the window at whim like Peter Pan.

“Girl,” her daddy begs her to understand as he takes his seat next to her on the sofa, big ringed hand familiar and pleading on her bony knee, as if somehow this appeal of his will lock the song back into her diary and out of the radio -or maybe he doesn’t care about his reputation anymore, he’s gotten lax about that after the divorce, maybe he really is seeking after his child’s good opinion this time when he continues, “I’m all for art’n’shit but have I not taught ya nothin’ bout-“

“Daddy, ya didn’t even write your own songs.” Daisy gently tries to get him to see the difference in their art but Jesse gasps out in horror:

“Daisy!!” like she just shot their father instead of stating the truth. Which is kinda her problem with her family, they can’t take straight facts.

“Alright, alright then,” Elvis simmers a bit but his tone is restrained as he presses his point, “so ya write from the heart and ya wrote about life, I get ya. So then why’d you call mama Wendy when, w-w-when she’s -she’s my Tinkerbell?”

“You’d rather I used your pet little name in public?” Daisy scoffs at his muddled logic and feels bad for the first time after -soon as his brow furrows in genuine hurt. Daddy loves mama, he loves her again like a new man and Daisy doesn’t get how that works but it’s the truth and she’s got no fight to pick with the truth. It makes her admit with a shrug, “I used it ‘cause Marlon always says she’s Wendy.”

You could hear a pin drop the way everyone’s chatter in the living room stops, even the coffee maker stops spluttering in the distance and it’s highly likely Jesse isn’t even breathing as everyone’s head’s swivel, Daddy’s slower but more intent than any, to look at Elaine where’s she sits in the white arm chair, blanket cast over her where Danny fell asleep while nursing. She’s as white as the rocker she sits in.

“Oh does he now?” Elvis rumbles and Daisy feels the unintentional bite of his nails on her knee.

“Well yeah, he does and -always has.” Daisy insists as if the past and present existence of Brando’s opinions on Elvis’ wife makes shit any better, Daisy knows it the second she lets it out that it’s not exactly balm on the scab.

Her voice doesn't make anyone look away from mama and her perfect, frozen face, carefully neutral and soothingly disinterested in the topic.

“That man has only ever called me, Elaine.” mama laughs an airy, dismissive little thing and the bite of Daddy’s rings on Daisy’s knee loosens their grip. “And if he thinks i'm a Wendy -he should say it to my face.” she jokes and Jesse predictably lets out a pained laugh of solidarity.

“-A-a-and w-who the hell did ya get to sew all those recreated outfits, girl?” Daddy is suddenly back on the original topic with a burst of renewed incredulity at her gall and Daisy knows she can use this to her advantage, get him arguing about fashion, tailors and supporting local folks instead of berating her for her lyrics and-

-Ella watches as Elaine’s stiff face smoothes into relief and she lays her head back against the rocker’s cushion and closes her eyes against the hubbub that’s no longer pertinent to her. Not for the first time Ella wonders if mama is as burdened as she is with thoughts and feelings married women shouldn’t have, they really shouldn’t. Marriage should cure a woman of them but Ella had them all alone on the ranch with her husband gone and Mama had Marlon and his lingering looks and her frozen face whenever his name gets mentioned and mama who is staring up at the ceiling like she’s no longer in the room with them at all.

“Peter Pan, Peter Pan, little lost boy actin’ like a big man,” only Marlon could have made that rhyme sound like anything but a goad, only Marlon really saw what Elaine saw when Elvis was sated, pliable, sweet as a newborn and pretty a sin. “Those producers who’ve got him playin’ tough n’ shit don’t know his appeal, they just don’t get it. Goddamn Peter Pan.”

And he had run his fingers over Elvis’ face, catching his drooping eyelids and pulling them down and over his nose to those cherub lips. And Elvis’ eyes hadn’t opened again till next morning when he woke in angry panic.

Elaine stares at the ceiling and feels Danny shift against her breast, snuggling closer, and she wonders if Elvis ever recalls that night like she does. Ever replays it a million times.

Wendy, Wendy Wendy.

Marlon thinks she’s Wendy, Marlon’s told her own daughter that. But never her. No. He’d just raked his hand through the wrecked coiff of Elvis’ gelled hair and admiringly called him Peter Pan. And Elvis, being Elvis in the state of freshly loved and freshly praised, never balked at it before drifting to sleep in their muggy tent.

Wendy, Wendy, Wendy, he never called Elaine that to her face.

Elaine catches Daisy’s eye next time she looks away from the ceiling, an odd moment of recognition. Funny how each child knows a part of her, but it’s the inner workings of Daisy’s curious, generous, honest self -a heart so very like Elvis’ own- that can look back at Elaine and smile at her, while knowing her fully, faults and all. It’s not so bad having grown daughters as a friend, Elaine decides as she watches Elvis flail backwards against the couch to laugh at his daughter's good natured dig at his unmodified wardrobe.

It’s good not to be his only Wendy keeping him young anymore.

Song based on: Wendy by Maisie Peters

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floralcavern · 4 months

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Jumping on the bandwagon and rewriting Wish!

I think it’s worth noting I have not seen Wish. I’ve watched reviews, other rewrites, and Spilling The Milk’s reaction video, but that is it. And I refuse to see it, since this is the type of movie that was perfectly crafted for me to hate, so I don’t want to waste 1+ hours of my life.

Let’s start with the backstory of the kingdom.

King Magnifico was a young dreamer within his own kingdom. But his kingdom was tyrannical. Magnifico joined an elite and exclusive group of sorcerers. He was the youngest one there, and the one who with the loudest thoughts. He was very open about his hatred toward the kingdom. But he was quickly shut down and even arrested for his radical ideas.

But then, the young princess of the kingdom finds him in the dungeon and they share a lot of the same views! This princess turns out to be Amaya.

So, together in secret, they plot to take down her father. They said they would rebuild their kingdom from the ashes, make a new world order where they will be infinitely times better rulers.

They were young, naive dreamers who didn’t realize that this plan could hurt a lot of innocent people. And it did.

Using Magnifico’s raw magical abilities, they manage to take over. But something maybe goes wrong and they end up destroying everything. Maybe Magnifico even ends up killing his own family. That’s a good way to fuck him up young 👍

They have to relocate and travel to new lands with refugees. Obviously, Amaya and Magnifico will lie to them all about what happened. They don’t want them all to know that they’re responsible for the deaths of their loved ones!

But after taking down the old kingdom with his magic, Magnifico’s magic is severely weakened.

But they realize the refugees spirits are very low. So Magnifico grants 10 of their wishes as a way to make them happier (and easier to manipulate, but he didn’t realize that was what he was doing or that was why he was doing it).

But now this started a new tradition. Every year, 10 wishes will be granted, as Magnifico claims he only had enough magic to grant 10. But the longer someone’s wish is separated from them, the more their life force is drained and fall deep into depression. So, why do they even bother throwing their wish into the pile?

It’s kind of like a gambling addiction. That desperation and hope from all the propaganda that maybe their wish is will be granted. Also, just lying and propaganda. Lots and lots of propaganda to get people to send in their wishes. So, ya, the fact that wishes may not be granted and stuff is well known and common knowledge.

Now, why do Magnifico and Amaya want wishes? Well, they’ve realized that Magnifico can absorb wishes and make his magic stronger. So every year, he gets stronger and stronger, but they tell everyone “Ohhhh. Magnifico is too weak for your wish. He can only grant 10. Sorrrrryyyyyy..” But in reality, that’s not the case. And Magnifico and Amaya are saying they want to “spread their perfect kingdom” to other lands, which is strange since they also promote the idea that their citizens should stay in the confines of their kingdom. It’s all about propaganda, baby!

Now, let’s get to Asha.

Asha is BLAND. She is a watered down, diet Anna from Frozen. Which is such a shame. So here’s what I’m gonna do with her:

Asha has always loved fairytales. She has a library that would make Belle proud. And because of her love for fairytales, she’s grown a love for magic! She rambled on and on about her love for magic and stories.

(Also, quick thing, I feel like her library full of fairytales could allow to get rid of so many unnecessary things from the movie that were added just for Easter eggs. Instead, they could be kept in the background of her library)

But Asha is very naive, which is something her grandpa worries about. Asha has a history of being taken advantage of because of her kindness. She has trouble telling genuine kindness and liars apart.

Now, her grandpa’s wish was to be able to inspire the younger generation. But it never came to fruition and now he’s too old. So Asha takes matters into her own hands and attempts to be an activist. Sadly, she doesn’t have bathe charisma or public speaking skills to be an activist. Usually, her speeches fall completely flat and end with her embarrassing herself.

But Asha’s biggest dream is to be a sorcerer. So, after enough begging, she manages to be taken in by Magnifico as his assistant.

At first, things go well! She makes somewhat good progress.

But somehow she figures out about Magnifico being a liar and using people’s wishes and purposefully not granting them, letting the citizens slowly have their life forces drain. She’s horrified, but Magnifico manages to manipulate her to calm down and just hear him out, yknow? And Asha wants to be able to trust him, so she calms down to hear him. But Amaya emerges from the shadows and knocks her out and has a couple of guards drag her to the woods to kill her.

But due to her little magical ability, Asha manages to escape the guards in the woods by the skin of her teeth and ends up stumbling across the spot her and her dad used to spend time in when she was young, causing her to break down sobbing.

She then makes her wish. A very vague wish that just things will be ok..

And then a cute little star creature appears! We spend around 5-10 minutes with this little guy, maybe a small song and Asha smooches its cheek, causing it to get all giddy and turn into…

Drumroll pleaaaase…

Starboy!!

Starboy

Oh Starboy.. we were so robbed.

Starboy is a giddy, chaotic, mute little guy. He’s always been interested in humans, but kept in the cosmos by the other Wish Keepers. But now that he’s actually face to face with a human, he attempts to act all serious and stoic. But with Asha, he has trouble doing that because he keeps getting flustered because he thinks she’s really pretty and he likes hearing her ramble about fairytales and magic.

Asha tries to learn to do her magic, but she can’t, so Starboy offers to help her out, but turns out, his magic is all wonky on Earth.

What I’m thinking is there’s a different magical force on Earth than the cosmos, so his magic is all out of wack. He continues to have random magical outbursts, of magic, causing chaos and accidentally getting him and Asha nearly caught multiple times. He also can see the souls of humans, seeing their wishes. The humans who have sent in their wishes and not been granted have souls that are deteriorated and this horrifies Starboy, making him realize how serious this all really is.

The Goat:

Oh GOSH, this thing. I’m keeping it, obviously, since every Disney princess needs an animal sidekick.

But I shall be taking away its ability to talk and giving it a backstory.

Asha’s dad had a prized goat. And her dad loved the goat. But shortly after her died, the goat also died, leaving only its baby. The baby goat.

I imagine that when it comes to Asha’s naivety, Starboy is mostly the kind of friend who goes “*Sucks in teeth* Yaaaa.. um.. you’re doing great, Asha.. haha..” Meanwhile the goat just rolls its eyes, wishing it could talk just to tell Asha what’s what.

Just make the goat have big expressions, make him the sassy one of the trio simply based on facial expressions.

Starboy x Asha

I have so many ideas. Starboy being mute helps Asha have to read body language and facial expressions and actually read people, which helps with her naivety and easily tricked by words nature. She no longer has to focus on the words coming from someone’s mouth, which is what she always was tricked by. The sugarcoated words, since “why would they lie to me?”

So Starboy being mute means she actually has to focus on things other than words, allowing her to have a deeper bond with Starboy than with anyone she’s ever had.

And with Starboy, he’s so obsessed with trying to prove himself to the Wish Keepers that he acts all stoic and serious around humans and not actually allowing himself to be curious and explore and be starry eyed and excited. So Asha helps him to loosen up and live in the moment, even for a second. She helps him realize he doesn’t have to prove himself. He just needs to help, and it can be in his own, unique way.

They continuously inspire each other.

The rest of the plot:

This one I’m still trying to figure out.

All I know is Magnifico and Amaya are convinced that they’re in the right and end up probably committing some war crimes in the neighboring kingdoms or something. They truly think they’re doing good. Then again, they thought they were doing good last time all those years ago with the old kingdom and ended up killing a lot of people. But Magnifico desperately wants to believe it was all worth it, since he literally watched his family die. He doesn’t want to believe that was for nothing. He and Amaya must spread their empire.

I imagine Asha learns the spell Magnifico used to take people’s wishes and used it on them at the end and we see their wishes. Idk that they would be, but something beautifully tragic probably, but also lowkey evil.

Asha returns their wishes to them, saying they are too evil to grant. Magnifico tries to manipulate Asha, but she holds strong and doesn’t fall for it. Magnifico and Amaya get angry and we get a Magnifico vs Asha and Starboy magic fight with Amaya in the end trying to absorb the wishes, as she desperately wants to help Magnifico. But since she has no magic experience or whatever, she ends up getting hurt and nearly dies.

Magnifico rushes to her and cradles her body. He wants to heal her, but his magic battle has left him incredibly weak.

Starboy tells Asha to look at Magnifico’s wish again, and it’s changed to hun only wanting his wife to live.

Asha and Starboy exchange a look, nod, and together they grasp hands and grant Magnifico’s wish.

Asha and Starboy decide to make them prisoners, doing laborious work. But despite the fact that they’re now criminals, Asha never separated the two from one another. She knew that they loved each other. She knew that they were well meaning, but they’re also dangerous and did bad things, so they must live out the consequences.

Also, of course Asha takes on the role of Queen! I like to think that Starboy ‘says’ his wish is to let these people have a ruler who will treat them well and for peace amongst them all. And his wish is granted, making Asha the ruler.

Asha tells everyone that she will not be ‘granting’ wishes. She says that they shouldn’t all rely on someone else to grant your wish, since waiting around for someone to do it all for you will only make things seem meaningless and less fulfilling. Instead, she promotes empowerment in oneself.

And then she would turn to Starboy and smiles softly and would say “And of course… it is always ok to let someone else into your life who wishes to help you.. to help grant your wish..”

Starboy later has to go back to space and him and Asha smooch.

And then it would later go to a scene where Asha is a little older. There’s a celebration, celebrating their day of liberation. Asha is looking out her balcony, watching the fireworks, and a star twinkles and Starboy appears on her balcony.

He gives her a look. That twinkle in his eyes and smirk and ever so slight head tilt she remembered so well.

Asha laughs. “What’s my wish..?”

He nods.

She smiles and looks down before looking back up to him. “To have you as my Prince Charming.. to let this be the perfect.. fairytale…”

Starboy smiles and flies into her arms. The two kiss and there’s a flash of light and Starboy turns into a normal human.

The end.

(I seriously hope I worded all of this ok and that you guys can see and understand my vision)

EDIT:

ALSO! I forgot to add this, but when all the village people see what’s going on and all that, they decide to help by rebelling against the guards. And it’s the grandpa who starts this revolt, since his wish was to inspire the generation. Also also, it eventually comes out that Magnifico and Amaya were responsible for killing everyone in the last kingdom and all the elderly folk have a moment of grievance and betrayal and maybe Starboy can use his magic to project the memories of the elderly’s loved ones, just to really show the king and queen what they have done, how they never actually saved anyone and actually ruined these people’s lives

#I think I made Asha autistic woops #disney’s wish #wish rewrite #writers on tumblr #Writers of tumblr #asha wish #starboy #starboy wish #writer stuff #writerscommunity #writeblr #Wish #disney wish #wish 2023 #Queen amaya #king magnifico #Fan writing

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stargirlfeyre · 5 months

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Booktok has gone to shit. Like when I see people doing book recommendation videos all the books that they’re talking about is just smut.

Don’t get me wrong I don’t mind reading smut, but if you can’t read a book because it doesn’t have smut in it because it’s boring… you need help. That is just straight up porn addiction. I’m not saying that you should stop reading smut all together, I’m saying that a book shouldn’t be judged because of how little smut there is.

Like ACOMAF was perfect in my opinion with how much smut was in it. It’s been a minute since I did a reread of it but I’m pretty sure that the sex scenes in the beginning of the book were fade to black with Tamlin. Not complaining, I hated him and was happy I don’t have to read about him lol

I’ve seen people say that TOG isn’t that good because there was no smut in it. It’s a fantasy series with a romance sub plot. And I think it’s considered YA

There so many good books that don’t base their entire plot (if it even has one) around smut. And with how some of these “smutty” books are being written today, it should’ve stayed on Wattpad and AO3

Bro I was bored yesterday and I was just scrolling on youtube and I came across this video talking about how grown ass women on booktok were sexualizing and harassing a 16 YEAR OLD BOY because he posted a video on a motorcycle. Smut obsessed tiktok women are quickly becoming like porn obsessed men. They aren’t able to think beyond sex it’s insane.

I feel like authors nowadays know that smut filled “dark” books are usually the ones that blowup because people on tiktok will salivate over any book that includes heavy sex scenes so now the quality of writing is going down in favor of catering to porn obsessed booktokers.

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sister-lucifer · 2 years

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Bad Habits (And Their Fixes)

Idia Shroud x Vil Schoenheit

Genres: Smut, fluff

content/warnings: Idia has a bad relationship with food, sub idia + dom vil, handjob

Idia Shroud had many bad habits.

Fortunately, most of them where relatively harmless. Maybe he stayed up a bit later than he should every now and then. Maybe he put off his schoolwork for video games sometimes. Maybe he didn’t change his underwear as often as he should.

Unfortunately, not all of them were this surface level.

Idia’s worst habit was his self neglect. He would often get so absorbed in something that either out of addiction or guilt he would forget or refuse to eat, drink, or get up at all. He saw fulfilling his basic needs as a reward of sorts; something he earned when he accomplished a goal.

This time his adversary was his school work.

He felt so terrible for putting it off this long, and it had to be done tonight. Vil tried so hard to pull him away from this terrible cycle; she tried offering him dinner, he refused. She tried offering offering him a drink, he refused. She tried coaxing him into bed, but of course that didn’t work either. It wouldn’t have worked on a good night, actually.

Vil had been slowly chipping away at Idia’s self destructive routines, but old habits die hard. He couldn’t fix it overnight, after all.

“Idia, honey, please—“

“I cant, Vil. I have to finished this tonight, or else it’ll be late.”

“Idia, you’re not getting all of that done tonight. You haven’t eaten a thing since noon, and you’re exhausted, and—“

“Vil, please, I just need to finish this, then I’ll go to sleep, I promise.”

“Idia, you’ve said that a thousand times. Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“I’m not doing anything.”

Vil huffed in response. He was frustrated, worried, but also tired himself. He hated seeing Idia’s self destructive cycles, but he often felt helpless to stop them. Idia had a one track mind, and there was no derailing it.

Vil tried as much as his patience would allow, but eventually he was forced to retire to bed, Idia still hunched over his desk.

Eventually, even with her worry, Vil managed to get to sleep. Not without hatching a plan, though.

That was how Idia found himself here, in his lover’s lap, in just his boxers.

Vil reached past him to grab a mini cherry turnover from the tray he had brought. They were the perfect size; Idia could easily fit a whole one in his mouth but it would still fill it.

“Vil, will you please just tell me what’s going on?“ Idia asked, hiding his face in Vil’s neck.

Vil was silent as she picked up the cherry turnover, inspecting to for a few moments before answering.

“You’ve been working too hard, Idia.”

At this Idia sat up, looking down at Vil with slight confusion and she continued.

“This is a reward. And, hopefully, a way of teaching you that as long as I’m around you will never, ever have to earn your food.”

Idia let out a small gasp. He was…well, ashamed to think that Vil was worrying about him, that he had let his stress show.

“V-Vil, I—“

“Shh. I don’t want any excuses. I saw how you were acting last night; it’s not good for you, Idia.”

Idia cast his gaze downward in embarrassment, his bottom lip trembling a bit.

“…’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize, you’re not in trouble.”

The words should’ve been comforting, but for some reason it made Idia’s eyes water. He could always hold it together until someone tried to offer him comfort.

“…You don’t have to do this for me…” Idia muttered with a shaking voice.

“I know, but I want to.”

“But you shouldn’t…”

“Why not?”

“Because—“

Idia stopped short, sucking in a breath.

“Because I…I-I….”

“You what, Idia?” Vil asked in a whisper, brushing some of Idia’s hair to the side.

“I…I don’t want you to think you have to carry me all the time…”

There was a long moment of silence before Idia spoke again, trying to gather the right words.

“There’s a reason I can’t have nice things, Vil…and, god— you’re the nicest thing i’ve ever seen…if you give me an inch I’ll want a mile, and before you know it I’ll be relying on you for everything and you’ll hate me and—“

“Idia Shroud!”

Idia was not prepared to hear Vil scold him like that. It made him flinch in a terribly obvious manner, and he almost burst into tears when he looked up to see her less than happy expression. Frankly, he was prepared for a verbal beating.

“How dare you talk about the person I love most in such a way.”

…Oh.

That was…not what he was expecting.

“Idia, you are the single most wonderful person I have ever met. I don’t know why you think so terribly of yourself, but I can tell you that it’s not true. Do you really think that I of all people would be sitting here with you if I didn’t think it was worth my time? Do you think I go out of my way for you for any reason besides the fact that I simply love you?”

Idia hated to admit it, but Vil presented a good point. He was very no nonsense; he never wasted time, which meant he must’ve seen something in Idia worth hanging around for. He didn’t know what, but as he sank down into the lap of his lover, relaxing a bit more, it didn’t seem to matter as much. He blinked away the few remaining tears before pressing his forehead to Vil’s with a murmur of “I love you too.”

“Good. Are you ready to be rewarded now?”

Idia considered it for a moment. He wasn’t sure why, he knew his answer.

He nodded, pulling back to look down at the mini turnover Vil was still holding.

“Open.”

“…Huh?”

“Your mouth, Idia. Open.”

Vil ordered as he brought the cherry turnover to Idia’s blue lips. He opened his mouth just enough for it to slip in. He chewed quickly before swallowing, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

“Idia, honey,” Vil cooed, “What are you in such a rush for? You didn’t even get to enjoy it.”

“…Oh…”

Vil sighed, reaching past Idia once more to grab another turnover.

“It’s alright, you’ve got plenty of tries to get it right.”

“…How many am I allowed to have?“ Idia asked shyly, looking down at the pastry in Vil’s hand.

“As many as you’d like. And if these aren’t enough, I can pay Trey to make me some more.”

This managed to pull a small chuckle out of the both of them. Once again Vil brought the turnover to Idia’s lips, and this time he opened his mouth before it made contact. He engulfed it eagerly, but paused when Vil silently mouthed “slow.”

He obeyed, slowly biting down on the pastry. Vil was right, he didn’t get to enjoy the last one. This time, though, was much different.

It was sweet, but not unbearably so. It was thick and full, but not so much that it stuck to his teeth or made it hard to swallow. If he focused hard enough he swore he could even taste Vil’s touch on the dough.

Finally he swallowed, reaching up to wipe some stray filling before Vil stopped him.

“Let me get it, love. You don’t worry about anything…let me spoil you.”

And with that she was leaning in, licking the extra filling off the corner of Idia’s mouth before he could even processed what happened. When he did, though, it sent a shiver down his spine.

“Better?”

“Mhm…thank you…”

“You’re so welcome, sweet boy. Another?”

“Yes please…”

A few moments later Idia was opening his mouth again, eagerly allowing Vil to feed him another pastry. This time he let out a hum of delight, grabbing onto Vil’s wrist and nuzzling into her palm.

“Oh, sweet boy. You like them?”

Idia nodded, unable to speak with his mouth full. Even if he could, he would surely be scolded for his bad manners.

“Good, good…remember to chew slow, there’s no rush. We have all the time we need. There we go, good boy…”

Vil did not miss the way Idia tensed at the praise, nor did she miss the way his eyes flicked downward for a moment.

“I know you like when I call you that, love. It’s okay, you don’t have to hide it.”

Idia whined; a barely audible noise, but it was more than enough in the near silent room.

“The point of this is for you to enjoy it. Let me make it as lovely as I can.”

Idia suddenly stilled. He quirked a brow, and Vil could almost see the gears turning in his head.

“So then…” Idia began as he swallowed, “…If the whole point of this is for me…”

Vil tilted his head in confusion. “Yes?”

“Then…why did you strip me naked?”

The truth was, Vil had no good excuse. Idia smirked a bit as her eyes widened for just a moment before she collected herself.

He already knew she was just doing it satisfy her perverted side. Why not lean into it?

“Hm…well, I suppose that’s just for me. I must say, I think you look better the less clothes you have on. You cant blame me for wanting to admire Idia Shroud in all his glory. Or, well…” Vil’s finger hooked under the waistband of Idia’s boxers, pulling it back a bit before letting it snap back into place, making Idia jump.

“…Not quite all.”

“Viiiiiil…!” Idia whined, squirming in place a bit. The words went straight to his cock, but he was trying so hard to keep himself calm. They were having a nice moment, he couldn’t ruin it by being a horndog!

“I’m only teasing, love! Do you want another?”

Idia nodded. There was no mistaking the pink tint on his warm cheeks now.

This was supposed to be a wholesome, relaxing evening. Really, it was. But seeing Idia blush always got Vil’s mind racing, and even just the smallest amount of her teasing could get Idia worked up. They were whipped for each other.

“Here you go, love. Open up.”

Idia opened his mouth obediently, Vil placing the pastry on his tongue and letting his hand linger there for a few moments before pulling away.

This one was a bit overstuffed, the cherry filling spilling out over Idia’s lips and down his chin.

“Mph—!“

Instinctively he brought a hand up, but was once again stopped by Vil.

“Oh, you messy little thing…” Vil chided playfully, pushing Idia’s hand back down. “I’ll have to clean that up for you.”

Suddenly she was leaning in, licking a long stripe up Idia’s chin and pulling a surprised squeal from his throat. Before he could say anything, though, he had been pulled into a deep kiss. Vil’s tongue darted out to lick back and forth across his blue lips, certainly doing a thorough “cleaning” job. Idia gladly parted his lips for her, but she refused to push her tongue any further. It made him whine as he leaned into her, trying desperately to persuade her but to no avail.

Finally they pulled away, and like nothing had even happened Vil grabbed another cherry turnover from the tray, quickly pushing it into Idia’s mouth before he could protest the neglect. He couldn’t stifle a whine, though. Vil simply pretended not to hear.

“Ooohh, my sweet baby…” Vil drawled, running a thumb over Idia’s lips. “Mmm…that pretty mouth can do so many things…”

The words were barely audible, but still pushed Idia closer to the edge. It was taking all his willpower to keep his cock down, but he only had so much self control.

Try as he might, Vil’s words echoed in his head over and over again, and before he even realized he was already half hard.

Even all of his willpower couldn’t combat the effect Vil had on him.

What he didn’t notice, though, was the split second where Vil glanced down, taking plenty a note of Idia’s….”situation.”

“Good, good boy, eating for me so well…” Vil praised as he stroked Idia’s hair, watching the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

Idia was weak. He could no longer resist her sweet words. He buried his face in the crook of her neck in shame, letting a pathetic whimper.

“Oh, Idia,” Vil said with a small giggle. It was comical to him, really, how easily Idia gave in. He loved it, though. “This was supposed to be a relaxing evening, and now you’re all excited…”

“…’m sorry…” He whispered in reply.

“It’s alright. I suppose I am partly to blame, hm?”

“…mhm….”

“Would you like me to fix it then?”

Silence.

“Idia?”

Finally he nodded, letting out a broken “mhm” and a sniffle.

“Aww, you poor sweet thing.”

Vil pushed Idia back into sitting up, looking down to admire the way he was desperately straining against his boxers. There was already a wet spot forming from his pre cum.

“Oh honey, I just know that doesn’t feel good. Do you want me to take them off?”

“Mhm, mhm…” Idia nodded eagerly.

“Alright then. But first—“

Suddenly another cherry turnover was pushing at Idia’s lips.

“Remember to eat slow, okay?”

Another nod as Idia took the pastry into his mouth. Somehow it was even sweeter than the others; maybe the feeling of Vil’s warm hand tracing down his stomach simply made it taste better.

Silently he pleaded, desperate to be free of his confines.

When Vil last tugged down his boxers just enough for his erection to spring free, he couldn’t help but let out a moan of relief.

“That’s so much better, isn’t it?”

Idia nodded as he swallowed, quickly pulling Vil into another kiss. He was a bit rougher than he meant to be, but luckily his lover found his eagerness adorable.

“Please, Vil—“ He choked out, “Please, please, please, please…”

“Shhhhh….” Her free hand came up to tangle itself in Idia’s fiery blue hair, tugging at it just a bit in just the right way.

“Don’t beg, my love. I’m going to take good care of you.”

Suddenly he had a hand wrapped around Idia’s throbbing cock, pulling a squeal out of him, quickly followed by a hum of delight.

“Oh, Vil…” He sighed, wrapping his arms around her neck.

Vil’s hand moved slowly but steadily at first, just like how he always started. He loved building Idia up, watching him slowly come undone in front of him. Not that it took much, of course.

“Mmm, you know how much I love this pretty cock…always hard and ready for me.” Vil punctuated his sentence with a harder tug on Idia’s hair, making him arch his back in pleasure.

“Mmh—! H…Harder…”

Vil feigned surprise at his words. “Harder? You want me to pull your hair harder?”

“Yes…yes, please…”

“Oh my…how dirty.”

“I-I’m noOT—! Oh god—!”

Vil had yanked even harder that time, making Idia buck his hips into her hand desperately. His mouth hung open in an O shape has he panted.

Vil merely smirked at the reaction, picking up the pace with his hand and leaning in to press gentle kisses to Idia’s neck. They didn’t stay gentle for long, though; as much as Vil wanted to build him up, the little noises he would let out with each kiss were addicting. Soon she was practically attacking Idia’s neck and shoulders like

her life depended on it, licking and sucking and biting until he was bruised to her liking.

It wasn’t long Idia was shamelessly thrusting into her hand, always desperate for more even when his eyes were teary and his entire body was shaking like a leaf. He got overwhelmed by pleasure so easily, and yet that was the part he loved. Vil could overwhelm him in just the right ways.

“Vil, please—“ He barely managed, “More, more…oh god, I-I need it—“

“Oh, I know you do sweetheart. Your pretty cock is twitching in my hand.”

“More…More!”

Vil silenced him with another kiss, this time shoving her tongue into his mouth before Idia even knew what happened. He moaned shamelessly into her mouth, practically devouring her lips as though they were his last meal. He was careful with his sharp teeth, but couldn’t resist nipping a bit here and there.

They stayed this way for as long as their bodies would allow. They only pulled away when they absolutely had to breathe.

“Vil, please don’t stop, please—“

“I won’t, I won’t…”

In fact, she sped up, delighting in the way Idia’s tongue lolled out of his mouth in his chaotic state.

Idia tried to warn Vil before he came, really he tried, but he couldn’t conjure any words. Any attempt at forming a coherent sentence fizzled into a moan, his mewls becoming louder and louder and his release approached.

It culminated in crescendo of squeals and whines and broken calls of Vil’s name, ending with one last scream of bliss as Idia’s back arched and his orgasm hit him like a train. Vil didn’t stop until he was completely finished; only then did she pull her hand away, allowing them both a break.

Idia collapsed into his lover, wrapping him into a tight hug as small “oh”s and “mm”s spilled from his mouth, the pleasure still wracking his body.

“Vil…Vil….”

“Shhh, it’s alright Idia. Catch your breath.”

“Mm…got you all messy…”

“It’s alright, clothes can be washed and changed. Are you okay, love?”

Idia hummed, taking in a deep breath and inhaling his lover’s calming scent.

“Mhm…never better…”

“Good. You can rest for a minute, but I do need you to get off of me soon so I can get us both cleaned up.”

The next ten minutes or so went by in a blur for Idia. He got a glass of water and Vil grabbed him a towel, sometime after that Vil had changed into a nightshirt and shorts, and he made Idia change out of his stained boxers.

All that mattered now, though, was that they were laying together, basking in the peaceful content they brought to each other.

“I love you…” Idia murmured against Vil’s shoulder.

“I love you too, my darling. A thousand times over.”

#twst smut #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #idia shroud #vil schoenheit #idia shroud x vil schoenheit #idia shroud smut #vil schoenheit smut #idia smut #vil smut #tw unhealthy eating habits

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kindredspiritva · 4 months

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hey kin! just wanted to say how ya been? Listen dude, I've been a fan since day one. Remember when you first started your YouTube channel and had all those cringy videos? yeah i was there. but now i look at you and all you've posted and it kinda makes me sad. you know that old tiktok sound where its like I miss the old Kanye, straight from the Go, Kanye Chop up the soul Kanye, set on his goals Kanye. I hate the new Kanye, the bad mood Kanye The always rude Kayne, spaz in the news Kanye I miss the sweet Kanye" thats kinda how i feel about you. i miss the actually funny Kindred. the Quirky kindred. the cringy kindred. i don't hate any side of you, i'm just slightly saddened by the new kindred. the one who takes kink tests for his followers. the one who is over sexualized and feeds off of that. You made it to be verified almost anywhere is because of fans like me, but ignores those smaller than him. I noticed you don't stream with any small time Vtubers. Ever heard of Natsumi? I like her. Fun gamer, her chats are always interesting. I started watching her because seeing you feed to people's addiction is like hearing your parents have sex in the room down the hall. It's weird. (sorry to put that image in your head dude) I just wanted to say, you are an amazing person but please, don't forget about us little people dude.

Hope you and Nailah enjoy y'all day!

You say you’ve been a fan since they one, but ever since month 3 of starting my channel I’ve been a NSFW voice actor, I’ve always done a bit of everything, wholesome scripts, spicy scripts, and I even streamed as well back then too on YouTube.

Those streams are unlisted but I still have them, faceless, bad mic, even worse internet with 4 mbps speed. Bad back then I’d play wacky games I figured ppl would like, talked openly about my sexuality and did a bit of fanservice while vocally being against parasocial behavior

I do have better equipment, I’ve rebranded as a vtuber so I could focus more on whatever variety of content I could make that my heart calls for, my best recent streams were “fixing vtubers” and cooking streams (which I’ve always loved). But at the end of the day, my content has always been the same, me a mic, and entertaining people as I’ve always have

Perhaps you don’t watch the streams so you don’t constantly hear me say how i always say hi for everyone that joins the chat so I can feel like people feel welcomed and like it’s a conversation. I don’t think you hate me (since you mentioned I’m just saying) I think you’re just nostalgic. You have fond memories of these days where after a bad day an asmr video could comfort you.

While I love my stories, I always felt people never connected to ME, not the smooth talker characters I play, the guy with an awkward laugh, dumb and with an even dumber sense of humor. I still do my audio stories, I love voice acting, but I also love streaming and what I do now as a vtuber

The old videos will always be there, at least until YouTube is up, but I like the new ones, my new channel and others such as tiktok and twitch just as much.

I might not have enough time on my hands to talk in DMs like I used to, especially coordinating editors, artists, contracts, since I’m not a corpo vtubers, everything I do is a one man operation mostly. But I still reply when ppl tag me on discord, still talk to all those that follow and support me, especially on a daily basis streams.

If you only focus on old memories you miss the chance to make new ones. And we’ve been having a lot of fun, cooking, chatting, singing, or just doing dumb stuff together

#kindredspiritva #vtuber #envtuber #kindredspiritvtuber

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dual-plunger-enthusiast · 6 months

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Okay that's valid, there's so many skib OC's I love on this site and on AF (heavily including yours!!) it's so hard to choose

Do you know of any like. Less known skib OC's that are really good though??? I'm craving skib content to fill the hole in the bottom in my brain since ep 67 part 4 is taking a while,,,, and I've looked at like everyone's OC's both on here and off here and I can't find anymore :(

Also sorry to bother but final question. I looked at the relationship chart thingy (which is a whole lot less hideous then what you think it is, it still looks good!!) And it says H34V3N dislikes Feedback and HATES Nara. Rogue, Punkrow and Bells I can understand, but what did FB and Nara do to get on her bad side? (Also I crave more FB backstory. Such an interesting character)

1. :3

2. Tbh, I’ve been a tad bit less active in the community besides my own server bullying me relentlessly so I haven’t seen many ‘lesser known OCs’ for a while

3. HEHEHEHEHEHEHE H34V3N usually has pretty strong opinions with certain ppl

H34V3N is actually AFRAID of Feedback. Imagine you’re (supposedly) some higher entity that was believed to be sent down from God, you’re trying to indoctrinate more robots into your world of perfection and this fucking bird thing starts mimicking every single thing you say. H34V3N is just downright terrified of the lil guy

As for Nara… He called her “TV Jesus” for shits and giggles once and it enraged her

If you notice H34V3N’s charts, she knows literally EVERYONE but excluding Nara and Feedback, Nobody Else besides the TVs know her. She went insane midway through the series and never revealed herself to the public, and she only Mainly judges other TVs’ perfections. She can see a LOT of the alliance but never reveals herself to them. Feedback only just happen to stumble upon her, but Nara caught her as she was trying to talk to Vizu since Vizu is like . The Most “perfect” TV out of all the other TV OCs. Vizu is super friendly to H34V3N but the moment Nara saw her, he could Not keep his fucking mouth shut.

4. As for Feedback, I kind of just got addicted to watching videos on instagram of this birdie called Apollo that can say human phrases and I just went “that’s so Speakermancore” and thus Feedback was born. I don’t really have any backstory for him, he was just made for sillies

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wheresarizona · 1 year

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Hi, me again! I honestly didn't expect you to respond to my question immediately since I've been snubbed before but it doesn't stop me from asking anyway. I'm glad that my post made you happy that someone loves your work because let's be honest it's fucking fantastic and addicting to read as well since I've been rereading it like crazy. You should be proud of creating such an amazing series as well as relieved that you brought other people joy from discovering such a series. I understand that you're not interested in the series at the moment since you're busy writing for other fandoms and that's okay, happens to everyone including myself though that hasn't stopped me from immediately subscribing to the series in the likelihood that you'll post a new installment to the series someday when you get the chance to do so. I completely understand that season 3 wasn't exactly the best in terms of storyline with there being only a few good episodes but it wasn't bad but also not good so if I had to rate this season it would probably be 7 out of 10 in my opinion. I honestly want to see Darcy reacting to Paz Vizsla being a hater to Din and I want her to berate him like a parent would be with their child and Paz being all flustered and impressed that someone so small could stand up to him and becomes more impressed when Din shows videos of them sparring and slightly aroused when he sees Darcy doing her signature thigh move on Din. Forgot to mention that I absolutely hate that they killed off Paz in the season which still kills me so I hope you can spare him in your stories instead since he's my favorite character too. I hope you come back to the series someday when you get the chance and spark to do so and until then I'll be patiently waiting for you so take care of yourself.

You’re so kind!! 😭😭😭

I’ll tell you right now Paz would survive because, in my version of season 2, Din was smart and took out Moff Gideon, so, basically, none of his storyline in season 3 would happen. Isn’t that neat? Okay, but I’d absolutely wanna include Bo-Katan in her depression era ‘cause Darcy would have some real good commentary.

If she wasn’t pregnant, Paz would personally be a recipient of her thigh move, so a verbal beat down is necessary, and I agree he’d be impressed seeing a video. It’s Darcy, so very quickly the covert would welcome her. Lmfaoooo

I’ve really enjoyed your messages and they’ve made me think about this story a lot and make some notes. Thank you so very much and know my askbox and DMs are always open. 🥰🥰🥰

#wheresarizona answers

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caitsmith08-blog · 9 months

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People make me out to be a monster, but I’m not. I’m a stranger they want to force ill will upon, yes I’ve made my mistakes…. I’m human. Is that not the only way we learn? Today I went digging, this woman, accused me of being a “killer”, for the longest I couldn’t make sense of it. This woman doesn’t know me, she doesn’t know I have a heart of gold and soul that’s pure, that I share empathy with a homeless person or animal. That I do good deeds when no one is looking and without video. So, I’ve been carrying this burden, of this strangers opinion on me. Bc I’ve always wanted to be accepted, loved, cared for, appreciated, so on and so fourth. And for the longest, I was exactly who I wanted to be, the life of the party, a hometown celebrity if you will. A household name. Then I bought bad drugs. Drugs that took the life of one and almost 3 others, drugs that I think about daily, bc they were daily, not to the point of addiction per say but…. Socially acceptable. Except that night, they weren’t. What I thought to be cocaine turned out to be pure fentanyl. What I thought was the unimaginable became my reality, it didn’t just hit home, it hit me. And everyday since October 4th I’ve thought about my misfortune that claimed a life of a man I truly loved. I feel guilty, most people, good people, tell me they wouldn’t expect any less…. But I couldn’t hurt any more. To me, in a sense, I took a man away from a woman he loved, kids he created, and a family that unconditionally loved him. And believe me, if I could change places with him, I would, in a heartbeat but back to this woman. So, I got in somewhat of a mental rage, and looked up this lady on social media, basically to dig up dirt to hit her where it hurt, because she hurt me. And, well, truthfully, people don’t forget. Then when I got to digging I saw her son had passed, of an overdose. So, everything in my body that wanted to put physical harm on this woman for socially downgrading me and emotionally ruining me…. It started to make sense. I’m sure her son passed of a similar incident. Now, I didn’t go too far into it but I’m sure it hit home for her, her anger wasn’t necessarily aimed toward me but perhaps to the person who she feels like, took away her son. The thing about grief, is there’s no instruction manual how to deal, bc everyone is wired differently. 3 months to the exact date I received a phone call from my father that my 20 year old nephew was “gone”. At the time I couldn’t really comprehend what gone meant, gone where? Where did he go? And then he repeated himself, “he’s gone Caitlin”, and in that moment I knew what he meant. And he was such a good kid, heart of gold, saved baby birds, was into Pokémon, hugged before you left…. My heart hadn’t healed from this man I loved, shared an obscene amount of time with, considered his family mine… and now my baby nephew?! Why? How? When? How did I not see the signs, being somewhat of an addict myself, now - I don’t want to water it down…. I never had shakes, or illness, stole, there was never really consequence to my actions… I never ever, ever considered myself an addict. But I was, I am. I’m addicted to the escape, to the feeling of being something other than me, to feel alive, to not care, to rage, I felt like when I was drunk and on drugs, I was the true version of myself. And maybe, in a sense I was. But I was also manipulated, mean, hateful, angry… and it was no one’s fault but my own. You are how you let people treat you, and I was a doormat, until I wasn’t then I was just…. Hateful. All the time. And I feel like these emotions are similar to the lady that passes judgement without knowing me. It’s true what they say yanno, misery does love company. Sad truth of the matter is nobody wins out of those equations bc at the end of the day all the anger, remorse, sadness, regret in the world will bring back ur loved ones, the hardest path I’ve ever taken was the road to forgiveness. Forgiving myself, forgiving the ones who can’t forgive me, forgiving the people I hold accountable, forgiving everything and everyone…..

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exanimateisacomic · 1 year

Text

For safety reasons, Eliza and Luis agree to have Seth leave his door open during the night so they can keep an eye on Levi.

They lock his window to prevent him from escaping. Levi is sad but understands why they’re doing this as is grateful that he is allowed to stay with them.

After a few quiet nights and Levi starting his ‘good demon’ chart, these restrictions are eased up and Levi is able to spend some time outside of his room.

He usually spends time in the studio room to paint, up in the attic library reading or just sitting quietly in the living room.

Eliza is usually up working in her office, Luis tinkers in his study and Reuben plays his video games in his room. If Levi needs anything he usually asks Luis first, but if he’s busy then his fearfully goes and asks Eliza.

(Soft knock in the door)

Eliza: yes, come in.

(the door opens slowly, Levi peers his head in)

Levi: h-hi, mrs. Lynch. Um- I-I wa- I wanted to ask you if I can have some of the cut up melon that is in the fridge? (Smiles weakly) oh, I’m sorry- please?

Eliza: (looks at him) fine, but not all of it. And I want to clean up after your done.

Levi: (nods) yes, of course. T-thank you. And I am sorry if I interrupted your work. (Closes the door)

Eliza leaves her office for some coffee in the kitchen and find Levi slouching and munching on a small plate of melon, staring off into nothing. She could feel their anxious energy exuding off of them.

Eliza: oh.

Levi: (sits up in his chair startled) what? Did I do something wrong?

Eliza: no, I- I thought you were going to eat in your room.

Levi: oh, I am sorry. I can take this up there and-

Eliza: no, no you’re fine.

Levi: oh, okay. (Slouches back down and picks up another piece of fruit)

Eliza: do you like melon?

Levi: (nods) yes-yes I do, mrs, Lynch. (Stuffs the fruit in his mouth, eats and gulps it down) I like the sweet taste of it. Reminds me of- (pauses) no-not me, Seth. Seth likes melon. It reminds Seth of more pleasant times. I guess since I am in his body, I like it too.

Eliza: (nods, kinda understanding) so I guess you can eat food and not just- uh…

Levi: (Looks up at her) (thinks for a second) huh, I guess I can. (Brings his hands together and fidgets with his fingers) I- I still feel…(swallows hard) hungry for…(pinches his fingers together hard as he winced, thinking about what to say)

Eliza: (looks concerned) you still have a taste for it?

Levi: Not a taste, I hate it. I really do but-(takes a breath) it is like my body needs it, I feel sick and unwell when I do not eat it.

Eliza: but you haven’t had any since you’ve been here and you seem fine?

Levi: (sighs) Luis- Luis has taken me to um- “go out to eat” as he would put it. He takes me to the outskirts of the city and I just-

Eliza: (holds up her hand, silence him) I’ve heard enough.

Levi: (cowers his head) I-I am sorry.

Eliza: (stares at him) is it like an addiction?

Levi: I-I am not sure. I wish it to be, I do- I do not want to do it. Maybe-maybe we could have doctor Soderbergh visit and diagnose what it is. If it is okay with you and-and if he is not to busy.

Eliza: that’s- not a bad idea.

#exanimate story idea #exanimate #levi morris #eliza lynch

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kultured-kuromi · 1 year

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Tw: heavy vent, topic of suicide, and self harm

I’ve had this in drafts for a few weeks just added on as I felt sad so if it seems jumbled that’s why

Idk how to add the little page break thing on tumblr mobile so if you’re sitting here scrolling for a minute I’m genuinely so sorry

So every winter my depression gets extremely bad as it does with most people so it’s no shocker that I’ve been in a slump for the past month but it’s bad this time the last time I could remember it being this bad was when I went through with my first attempt in 7th grade and I’m ngl I’ve heavily been thinking about trying to make another attempt on my life I don’t only for my younger siblings I can’t handle the thought of them walking in on my dead body which they inevitably would (my brother wakes me up every morning) and everytime I think about this scenario I start spiraling it’s hell but yeah not gonna kill my self ig. I’ve been using quite literally all my strength not to relapse and start self harming again I’ve been clean since November and I’m really trying to break the addiction but it’s so hard and I don’t really have any other coping mechanisms. In all honesty tho the real reason I don’t go back to cutting is bc I threw away what I was using to do it and I have like actual knives but I’m scared of going to deep (kinda ironic ig). So I’ve had a group of friends since last February (feb 2022) there’s been 3 main people with others along as well I don’t feel like going into our whole history but a cliff note version of it is we started hanging out in feb in may I started dating person B in July I broke it off with B and ever since it’s basically been me vs B (the others occasionally joining me) well I started talking to B in November after not talking to him for 2 months and shit was great it was basically how it was back before we got together he even got me a shiny Pokémon for my birthday (which means a lot to me) but practically since it’s been new year’s he went back to how he was in September (when we first stopped talking) just an asshole we obviously were annoyed by each other then we got in a “fight” so we stopped talking again anyways so that was Sunday I didn’t have school Monday but Tuesday and Wednesday he’s still been hanging around my group which is fine they’re his friends to but like I hate it bc they’re not talking to me pretty much at all throughout the day bc the only time I see person A and C person B is also there… it feels like he’s stealing my friends from me even my moirail (person A) is hanging out with him more and they don’t even like him so I feel left out completely I feel invisible and alone but not alone bc when I was alone it didn’t even feel this painful I just sit there in silence tears in my eyes but not letting them fall I stare off into space with one AirPod in trying to now ignore the outside world making little stories in my head with my f/os but in reality I just want my moirail to hug me and let me know everything’s alright and that I’m not losing anyone and that if I were to kill myself they would care they would be upset by it stuff like that but no nothing. I haven’t been able to do any school work bc of my mental state even if I take my meds (adhd meds I should probably clarify) which is weird bc my meds always keep me on track but not now ig fuck for example I have like 6 algebra assignments that become 0s tomorrow and I frankly just don’t care. When people I know tell me they don’t have tiktok i always laugh at them like c’mon it’s not that bad but it is it is that bad for example I posted a few videos of my face today and I got tons of comments fat shamming(which really helps my eating disorder but whatever),being called poor, and genuine trans + homophobia I have some pretty tough skin when it comes to these comments usually but if you haven’t noticed I’m a single problem away from violently killing myself so these comments got so bad that I had to private my account which in my 8-9 years on the internet i have never had to do. I think that’s it idk.

Oh there is actually one more thing I want to mention this happened months ago but has been pissing me off since so to put this lightly I had a dream where Murdoc from Gorillaz sexually assaulted me (yes Ik he would never do this but I can’t control my dreams) I have trauma when it comes to stuff like this bc I was sa’d as a child and I’m on the asexual spectrum so I don’t like to think of my f/os in a sexual light anyways I go to vent in my discord server that has all my friends in it looking for support (even though they were all asleep venting then makes me feel better) so I feel really dirty and sad bc again this was a sa related dream I post a kinda detailed version of the dream in #venting channel then Person B starts typing and replies with “nice fanfic” and I wish I fucking screenshoted that bc wtf dude it’s bc he’s never had/really heard about a sa situation i understand that but still why?

Vent Over

if you read this thanks ig it’s just nice to know an another living body knows my problems so I’m not necessarily suffering alone <3

TL;DR I really need a hug ffs

#jester’s venting again 😡#tw #trigger warning #vent #cw vent #depression #this probably seems like stupid teen stuff to a lot of people but to me it is very bad #thank god i have my comfort content #Spotify

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father-time-and-baby-new-year · 3 years

Note

happy 200! i’m so glad to see your blog grow, it’s one of my favorites and i adore all your writing. i’ve never cried so much and i love the kind of unsettling feeling you write in your fics, it’s perfect in the category of yandere and dark content. in particular, i loved your drabble about shigaraki mourning over a dead reader and i’ve reread that one too many times to count haha! as for asks for headcannons and drabbles, it would be amazing to see that with bully!eren especially since he was such an awful person to the reader. i’d love to see him suffer honestly, but if you don’t want to write it, that’s completely fine! once again, i’m so proud of you for hitting 200! that’s such a huge milestone and hopefully, there will be many more in the future! :)

SYNOPSIS: bully!Eren has to navigate the world without you.

Pairing: Bully!Eren x Fem!Reader

A/N: I can't even explain in words how much I CHEESED at this message like my grin was ear to ear. can't explain how many times I read this. It singlehandedly made my day anon, and to repay you for my happiness....here is some angst. this is a slightly different route than the shiggy one but I hope it still suits you <3

TW: mentions of death, past dubcon/noncon, mentions of trauma, bullying, alcohol addiction, drunk driving, abusive behavior, revenge porn, nonconsensual photography/videography, mentions of infidelity, angst, so much of angst, violent behavior

WC: 2.5k

It's not like Eren had been doing a lot of soul-searching. He's not delusional enough to label his half-assed epiphany of "maybe I'm a shitty person" as soul searching.

It's just the conversation with his very sick mother burned holes through the back of his mind. Carla had asked about you and why you don't come by the house anymore. How she missed baking with you in the kitchen, and how you sweetly smiled whenever you would see soft creamy peaks form in the meringue.

Eren felt like he was swallowing needles as he assured his mother with false truths, that nothing was going on and distance between childhood friends is natural, and if it means so much--ok ok he'll bring you over.

He stays until he sees her chest slowly rising and falling into a gentle asleep. He touches the tip of his ears, unsurprised by how hot it was.

Eren, when you tell a lie, the tips of your ears turn red.

You're not at school the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

Guilt is not an emotion he feels often but the events of the past weekend replay in his mind. It was just a dumb party that Floch threw, and he was surprised to find you cornered by a trio of thee dunderheads. Like a distorted fairytale, he swept you away from the bad guys like a knight in shining armor, to only shove you in an empty room and demand compensation for playing hero.

Fuck, with that big mouth, you would think that you'd know how to suck cock.

Use your tongue stupid slut. If you use teeth, I'll shove this dick in your ass without any prep.

No, I don't care, you're taking all of it.

There's a video on his camera roll. How could he not record it? You're sobbing, mascara running down your cheeks, looking so beautiful and ruined with jizz smeared at the corner of your mouth. He was brutally fucking your mouth, making you take all of his length.

Breathe through your nose dumb whore. Or else you're gonna run out of air.

You were pleading with whatever garbled sounds you were constricted into producing.

Breathe through your fucking nose. This is for your sake. Otherwise, I don't mind face fucking your lifeless body. You'd be more useful that way anyways.

Eren is conflicted with muting the video because he can't stand to hear himself like that. But he didn't want to miss out on your pitiful whines.

He remembers the distraught expression on your face when he was finally done with you. He tucked himself inside, and sneered, "I've got a girl coming here. Get lost." You looked so fucking distraught. Why? All he did was make you suck his dick. He didn't even fuck you.

He should have. Eren thinks grimly when he stares at your empty desk on the first day you didn't show up to school. He's gotten off to the video more than enough times than he can count over the weekend, and he was aching to see your pretty face twisted into a terrorized expression when he flipped up your skirt to grope your ass.

Kindly, Eren decides he'd allow you to have a rest day. But the second day, Eren pays a visit to your house finding it dark and locked, like no one was home and hadn't been there for a while.

On the third day, you're declared missing.

Your incompetent workaholic mother who finally came home and decided to give a damn reported you missing to the authorities who had scratched their heads because as far as they knew, the pivotal 72 hours were up.

Paradis was surrounded by forests. No one wanted to say it, but they were all thinking it. If you got lost in there, chances are you wouldn't make it out.

Eren wasn't always this admired and fawned over. He had his fair share of behavioral issues that frightened people (not you though, not then at least, not when you were children, and you still came back every day to play).

But when he channeled that anger into sports, there was somewhat of a star in the making, especially for some small-town boy. He was becoming extremely popular, and that's nice and all, but at the end of the day, he has a mother whose health was taking a sharp decline. He was constantly under stress, stress that he took out on you.

Where did his favorite stress-ball go?

It's all fucking surreal. Having detectives in the school. Not that there were many students to question (because christ, did you even have any friends after Eren turned everyone against you?).

Eren was questioned. He can't help but mirthfully chuckle. Maybe this was your grand plan, maybe you were able to finally sort out a mountain of evidence against him. If you were going to fuck him over, didn't you want to see it happen with your own two eyes?

The dark-haired boy wishes that was true. If you had gotten your revenge, would you be here? No, revenge isn't the right word. If you got any justice for what he made you suffer, would you come back?

Hi, I'm Detective Hange. I would like to ask you some questions today. You're Eren Yeager, right?

Yes, that's me.

How do you know ___?

We were childhood friends. We're uh, we're not as close anymore.

When was the last time you saw her?

Friday night at Floch's party-

-Floch Forster right? There were a number of kids there from your school.

Yeah. It was a big party. She uh, doesn't usually come to parties but she was there that night.

You were the last person to be seen with her. Other kids have said that they saw you and her entering a room together, and then only her leaving the said room.

[Sigh] Yeah we sorta...hooked up.

I thought you said you guys weren't close anymore.

You can be not close to someone and still hook up with them.

But you guys were close once right?

Yeah. Once.

The dark-haired boy asks if he was under any suspicion. The detective waves their hand in a dismissive gesture, “If her diary tells us anything, it’s only that she really liked you.”

Were detectives even allowed to divulge that sort of information? Eren doesn’t know but the stray detail that they offered off-handedly made him feel like he was swallowing needles.

At that point, Eren honestly still doesn't believe you're gone. You had a habit of running away, even when you were little kids, but you always came back.

Still, he participates in the search parties with a renewed vigor, even going alone in the forest with a flashlight on most nights.

And he's just so fucking tired. The darkest crevice of his mind almost wishes you were dead because this ignorance was just agony. Almost. Because he still clings to the feeling that one day, he’ll stroll into class and find you in your seat in the back of the class, looking out the window like some cliche shojo manga protagonist.

There are folders and folders on his phone. Albums. The most recent one is dedicated to your crying face as you were choking on his dick. Earlier albums are composed of creepshots of your panties, of that obscene o-face, of your skirt flipped up and your ass cheeks, pictures of your cleavage, videos of you thrashing as he dunked your head into toilets like a villainous middle school bully.

Pictures of your neck covered in hickeys, your naked breasts, ass cheeks striped with red after getting spanked, your leaking cunt, just endless and endless media dedicated to pieces and pieces of your body like you were never a whole person.

The earliest ones though tell a different tale, from off-guards to your drooling face as you napped in the middle of the day.

He has a favorite picture. Your eyes are watery from the cold, snowflakes stuck between lashes, nose and cheeks flushed red, and you're smiling. Smiling right to the camera. Right at him.

"Eren, are you taking a picture?" You asked, bouncing in place, giddy that it was finally snowing.

"Not of you, shut up. Get out of the way." His voice is gruff but not harsh.

You laughed and jumped into frame anyway, and the bright streetlamp behind you made you seem like you were wearing a halo.

He wishes he had more pictures of you being...yourself. Because now your crying face displayed over countless pixels haunt him. But like a fucking degenerate, he still jerks off to all the nudes he coerced from you. Sometimes he cries when he's jerking off which is probably the most pathetic thing he's ever done. This is what you've reduced him to.

He hates the sound of his own voice.

Breathe through your fucking nose. This is for your sake. Otherwise, I don't mind face fucking your lifeless body. You'd be more useful that way anyways.

Eren goes through the motions of life without really feeling like he's in the moment. Seasons change and time flies. His mother dies, and his withdrawn father dies a year later. He proposes to Mikasa because it's something he was always supposed to do. She loves him unconditionally, so even when he doesn't put any effort into the relationship but proposes, she says yes hoping he'll change and be a good husband.

He doesn't go to his parents' funerals because they're already dead. What's the point. He doesn't visit the candlelight vigils in your honor either. After tearing his ACL again and a somewhat traumatic injury, he kisses his pro-football career goodbye. To be totally honest, he's relieved. Because he had gotten quite bored, and maybe he was looking for excuses to quit the entire time. It's not like you'd be cheering on the bleachers anyways.

Mikasa has an affair, more out of a desire to see her fiancé feel something for her as opposed to any burning lust. But when she asks him if he's ever cared at all, with tears springing out of her eyes, he's just calmly drinking his fifth of whisky.

The dark-haired man doesn't even look up, "Let's break up."

"Is this about her, huh? Fucking get over it already Eren. She's GONE. And you have some big fucking audacity moping about her death like you weren't making her cry in the bathroom stalls every fucking day you piece of shit."

"Get out."

"You know what, I bet she killed herse-"

SMASH

The dark-haired woman doesn't finish her rant because the whiskey bottle smashes on the wall next to her head, sending glass everywhere and staining the carpet amber. She's unharmed, knowing it wasn't Eren's intention to hit her but Jesus Christ, what a monster.

She packs her bags and leaves the town like she should have a long time ago. All her friends had left years before and she stayed behind because that's where Eren was. She thanks her lucky stars that they didn't marry.

It's funny because he had always imagined himself being the first to move out of their small town, but he's the one staying. He can't leave this place. feels too tethered to ever leave. Every diner and liquor store is saturated with memories of you. He remembers buying cigarettes and exhaling the smoke to your face to piss you off in empty parking lots.

Maybe he stays in case you'll come back.

Eren's days consist of alcohol-fueled hazes. He doesn't know how his liver is still functioning. He doesn't know he's still alive after crashing his car into a tree when he was drunk out of his mind. He was on his way to get some more vodka.

He barely recognizes himself in the mirror anymore, not that he looks at himself much. His hair is long, nestled around his shoulder because he couldn't be bothered to cut it, dark circles under viridian eyes, and a perpetual stubble on his jaw.

His parents had left quite a sizable inheritance so there's no need to work but he's good with his hands. Likes crafting up birdhouses and cabinets, and occasionally does odd jobs around the neighborhood, never charging the elderly.

He's under the sink, tinkering with a wrench against the pipes when he hears the old lady coo at him.

"We're so lucky to have you Eren. I'm surprised a handsome young man like yourself doesn't have a special lady. The girls must be lining up at your door!"

The dark-haired man winces, and offers no comment, knowing that that the older lady was susceptible to long tangents.

"You know, we're getting a new neighbor." Eren grunts as a response. "They're young, I've heard. Isn't that exciting? Oh my, Eren! I think they're gonna be living in the house right next to yours..."

He tunes out the rest of the conversation because doesn't really care. He just hopes his new neighbors are quiet.

It's Sunday noon when obnoxious noises of moving trucks and people wake him up from his deep slumber. Eren's annoyed to wake up despite the fact he's probably been sleeping over 15 hours. He oscillates between getting too much sleep and getting none, his sleeping habits completely dependent on his dreams.

His nightmares are too visceral, visions of your corpse asking him if he'd enjoyed hollowing your soul with his teeth.

His dreams are achingly sweet. You in your prom gown, shining so iridescently like diamonds were sewn into the silk. He's dancing with you, holding you close, and then after you guys go to your favorite diner and gorge on burgers and milkshakes.

There's a peal of distinctly feminine laughter that stirs up Eren's senses. He's so pathetic, was the mere sound of a woman laughing getting him excited?

He sighs. He thinks of the whore he's frequently visited because of her resemblance to you. Hair color, skin color, face shape--with enough alcohol, he could really convince the person beneath him, was you. Maybe it's time to give her a call, but she's gotten so fucking needy and he hated how her voice didn't match yours.

The green-eyed man peers from the lace curtains, irritated by the brats playing on his lawn. A full family next door? Great, just what he needs.

The friendly knock on his door breaks him out of his daze. He contemplates whether he should answer but on the second more muted knock, he lets his feet guide him.

He turns the knob.

And Eren Yeager completely shatters.

Because it's you isn't it? You're the person standing in front of him? He can hear what you're saying but he doesn't really register it, soaking in the cadence of a voice he had long forgotten because all he had were pleading whimpers and frenzied moans stored on his cell.

He's shaking. Is he dreaming? He's dreaming, right? He knows it's you. You're older, far more beautiful than he's ever seen you. You have a different hairstyle, wearing clothes he would have mocked you for, and there's this joyfulness within you that makes you glow.

There's a mess of emotions electrifying in the pits of his stomach from euphoria, anger, and dread. He could feel his skin growing clammy like he was about to vomit at any second.

"Hey, are you all right?"

Doe eyes full of concern peer up at him. He voices out the syllables of your name like a desperate prayer.

You tilt your head to the side, "How do you know my name?"

#eren yeager x reader #bully eren yeager #toxic eren #eren yeager x you #yandere eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x fem!reader #eren yeager x reader fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #dubcon tw #tw noncon #tw abuse #tw drinking #tw drunk driving #eren yeager fanfiction #dark content #dark fic #tw trauma #tw depr

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scuttling · 3 years

Text

Present

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 4,598 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Voyeurism, Masturbation in shower, Sexting, Oral Sex, Dom/sub, Protected Sex, Established Aaron/Sophie Summary: Sophie sends Aaron a sexy video while he’s away on a case, Spencer watches it, and smut ensues. Collection: Part 1 of 5 of Present, Perfect, Patient, Promise, Pretend series Note: This is a previously published work from A03, just moving it over to tumblr because I was thinking about it today. 🤤 Link to A03 or read below! “I sprained my ankle. I’m not injured, not really. I can even walk on it,” Sophie assures as she pours them each a cup of coffee in the break room. She sets the carafe down, takes a step, wobbles, and Aaron catches her around the waist with a raised eyebrow of judgement. “Okay, so I can’t walk that well, but I can certainly sit in a conference room bouncing ideas around and drinking coffee. That’s all Rossi does, anyway.” He chuckles softly, knows she’s still… warming up, to Rossi and his idiosyncrasies.

“You know the rules.”

“Yeah, because we’re so good at following the rules,” she teases with a smirk, running her hands down his stomach, stopping at his belt. He looks over at the bullpen out of the corner of his eye, shoots her a warning look that makes her sigh and pull away.

“Think of it as choosing our battles,” he suggests, hoping that might get her back on track. “If you want to continue making out in my office, you have to stay here this one time.” She smiles, crooked, nods her head.

“Okay, when you put it that way, I’ll take the make outs.”

“I thought you might. Plus, you get to spend all day with Garcia. I figured that would be like a dream come true.”

“It is, definitely. It’s more the long, cold, nights that I’m worried about.” He sighs, because she’s being so dramatic, but he doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction of making him smile again. He can’t be looking as smitten and infatuated with her as he is all of the time. “I’m going to be so lonely.”

“Oh, I think you’ll manage without sex for a few nights,” he teases, and she looks scandalized, as if that wasn’t exactly what she was getting at.

“It’s not about sex, it’s about intimacy, comfort, sharing my bed with a big heavy man who scares away the bad dreams.” She grins lecherously and he prepares to roll his eyes. “And who has a dick that won't quit.”

“Like I said,” he enunciates, taking his travel mug of coffee for the road, “you’ll be fine for a few nights. If you do decide to touch yourself, though, make sure you send me a present,” he reminds her, because they aren’t separated often, but when they are, a couple of racy pictures or videos almost always exchange hands. He bends for a quick kiss on the lips, brushes her cheek. “I love you. Behave.”

“I love you,” she murmurs, all tenderness and no heat, now. “Be safe.” Two days after taking the case, the team is on the jet for a night flight home. Spencer is tired, but he can’t sleep; JJ is stretched out on the couch, Morgan and Emily are slumped over in their seats up front with pillows and headphones, and Rossi has been snoring softly since they took off, so it’s just him and Hotch awake. They are in seats next to each other, Spencer by the window, because he knew he would be a little restless, and that Hotch wouldn’t sleep, so it seemed like the safest bet if he didn't want to disturb anyone’s rest.

He also enjoys the comforting presence of the older man, always, but especially in the calm, quiet atmosphere of the flight home.

He tries to listen to music, a podcast, but he eventually pauses it and just rests his eyes, his head, listens to Hotch as he flips pages or taps away at his phone. He’s probably texting Sophie, who’s home with a sprained ankle and who hasn’t stopped grumbling about it since. He smiles at the thought, likes when she’s comfortable enough to complain to him. Likes being someone she turns to.

He sighs. Feelings are complicated. Sometimes he hates being part of such a tight-knit team because it makes the things he feels all the more confusing, especially when the two objects of his (totally manageable) affection are in a relationship together; he feels like the odd man out, as always, can’t deny that it hurts sometimes.

He’s drifting in and out of the not quite asleep stage when he hears sound coming from Hotch’s phone, shuffling, ambiguous noises. He lifts his eyelids just slightly to see a video up on the screen, a wall that looks vaguely familiar, like a bathroom, maybe. There’s nothing particularly intriguing about that, but then he sees a pair of smooth, bare legs standing inside a bathtub and his interest is… piqued.

There’s another sound, unmistakably a shower being turned on, and then the woman—it is Sophie, no doubt; even if he can’t see her face, the tattoo on her forearm is easily identifiable—squats down, and she is so gloriously naked that he just… freezes. His body and his mind are suspended in a conflicting state of this is wrong, I shouldn’t be seeing this, and this is the best thing I’ve ever seen, and why is Hotch watching this right now, with me right next to him, and hnnng.

She pulls the shower head into view, lets it pour over her hair from what he can see of it, then down her breasts, her stomach, arms and legs; after that, she adjusts it to a stream that is harder and more controlled than one would typically use in the shower. He wonders why, thinks it could be uncomfortable, until she moves it to hover over her pussy, moaning softly, and then he really, really gets it.

His heart is racing as she runs her hand over her body, thumbing at her nipples, sighing at her own touch. She rocks back and forth a little so the stream of water hits her clit, then lower, between her lips, against her opening, and Spencer swallows hard.

“Mmm,” she sighs, and the sound goes straight through him; he feels himself getting hard as she murmurs, pressing her hand against the rim of the tub for leverage. “Mmm, yeah.” He can see that Hotch is breathing heavily next to him, eyes fixed on the screen. It’s too dark in the cabin to see his lap, but he knows he must be aching in his pants, too, wonders what it would be like if he reached out and touched him there.

Sophie is incredibly gorgeous as she works to reach her climax, bouncing lightly on her heels as the pressure builds, her moans longer and louder, but it’s when she stops moving and presses the shower head closer, directly over her clit, that he knows she’s almost ready to come.

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” she whines, pinching a nipple, arching her back, and her voice is high and breathy and addictive. He would give anything to be in the same room as those sounds, to pull her wet body close and help her get off. “Fuck, mmm,” she purrs, bringing the stream even closer, and she comes, short, loud moans that sound like they’re being ripped from her throat as her thighs shake, her chest heaves.

She drags a slow hand down her body, like she’s soothing herself, and then shudders, pulls the shower head away like maybe the pressure is too much where she’s sensitive. With a sigh, she reaches for the phone, tilts it so her face is in view, cheeks flushed and wet hair clinging to her shoulders. She turns up her lips in a coy smile. “See you soon.” The video ends.

It takes Hotch a moment to lock his phone, and he looks a little dazed when Spencer risks a glance up at his face—with good reason. If he was on the receiving end of videos like that, he would never be able to focus on anything.

The rest of the trip is quiet, certainly uneventful in comparison. Spencer makes a show of opening his eyes fully, stretching, thinks it would be too awkward now to admit he saw and heard every incredible second; Hotch looks over at him with an expression he can’t read, and then flips open a new case file.

When they land, he and Hotch are the last two to grab their bags, and Hotch brushes up against him in a way that feels purposeful, but is probably wishful thinking. “Do you have anything going on for the rest of the night?” he asks, and Spencer shakes his head.

“Nope, nothing.” Maybe masturbating—definitely masturbating—but he doesn’t need to know that. Hotch nods, thoughtful.

“You should come home with me.” Spencer looks at him with wide eyes.

“What?”

“We both know that you saw the video,” he says in a low, no nonsense tone that makes him gulp. “I told Sophie, and she seemed… interested in the prospect. So you should come home with me. If you want to.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” Hotch raises a hand, halting his train of thought.

“I may have had a suspicion that you were awake when I chose to play the video, so don’t be so hard on yourself.” Spencer looks at his face, trying to determine if he’s saying what he thinks he’s saying. He did that on purpose? He knew that Spencer was watching? “No pressure, if you don’t want to come over. I would never want you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“I do want to… do… whatever it is we’re doing,” he rambles awkwardly, and Hotch chuckles.

“What we're doing is having sex. And I won’t touch you, or anything, if you don’t want that. It can be me and Sophie and you and Sophie.” Spencer swallows hard again, so turned on and breathless that it makes him feel bold.

“What if I do want you to touch me?” he asks, and Hotch leans in slowly, hot breath at his ear.

“Then I’m going to touch you.” When he pulls away, his fingers brush over Spencer’s jaw. “Do you want to come home with me?”

His answer is an emphatic yes. Aaron is due home any minute, and Sophie is vibrating with nervous energy, puttering around the apartment in her robe, couldn’t sit still if she tried. She waits for him on nights he has to work late and can’t bring it home, sure, but it’s almost never like this, where they are apart for days on end. It’s seriously affecting not only her sex drive, but also her mental state, which she hadn’t expected; she feels clingy, needy already, wants to smell him and touch him and taste him and be caged in by him, and it’s frankly getting a little out of hand.

It doesn’t help, she guesses, that she sent that video, but she was horny and wanted his attention… and boy, did she get it, had several texts come through a couple of minutes after she sent it, all very sweet and dirty and good.

Then she saw one about Reid, wanted to be mortified, but she just… wasn’t.

A: So, Reid saw me watching your present.

S: Oh, really? Did he like it?

A: Yeah, he liked it.

A: I bet he’d come pretty quick if he got to see the real thing.

A: Touch you… taste you.

God, how can this calm, controlled man make her such a whimpering mess with just a couple of texts? It’s unfair, is what it is.

S: Maybe we should invite him over sometime.

S: I’ve seen him looking at you, too.

S: Imagine how pretty he would look between us.

That was about an hour ago, and the only thing she received in reply was a brief message letting her know they’d landed and that he was on the way home. She hopes she didn’t upset him, knows that he’s mentioned being interested in men but that he’s never slept with one, hopes she didn’t hit a sore spot. She promises herself they will talk about it when he gets home.

But when he gets home, he kisses her so deeply she feels faint. Her body is lit up in an instant, suddenly desperate for more of him.

“I brought you a present,” he says, so low and sexy, and she grins, breathless, wraps her arms around his neck.

“Ooh, you know I love presents. What is it?”

“It’s not a what, it’s a who,” Spencer says, then, from the open doorway, and she glances between them, bites at her bottom lip. He steps inside and closes the door.

Fuck.

“Hey, Spencer,” she greets, but she can hear the tremble in her voice when she does. He looks to Aaron, and Aaron reaches back, wraps a hand around his wrist, guides him closer.

“I told him what you said, about how pretty he would look between us. He happened to agree, so I figured, why wait?” He looks her over intently, like he’s making sure she’s okay with this.

She is so okay with this.

She wants to speak but she’s so out of breath, her heart beating so fast, that she just pulls him down for a kiss, messy and graceless, and then she reaches for Spencer’s shirt and pulls him close as well, doing the same. She takes turns kissing them, ten kisses each, probably, until Aaron pushes her back gently with a soft laugh.

“Easy, baby. He’s going to stay the night; we have time to go slow.” Her chest is heaving, and he walks around so he’s standing behind her, unties the sash of her robe, pulls it off to reveal the lacy black bra and panties she thought would be a sexy surprise.

He kind of outdid her in the surprise department, but she’ll forgive him this once.

He runs his hands over her panties, her stomach, her boobs, and she bends her neck back, arching up for his lips, moaning against them. Spencer approaches, a bit hesitant, puts his hands on her hips and kisses her exposed throat, her chest. She feels like she’s died and gone to heaven, two pairs of hands on her, two mouths, her body pressed between them tightly. She thinks offhand that she’s glad her ankle doesn’t hurt anymore, because she could stand between them all night long, if they keep this up, would be content to never move again.

Then one of Spencer’s beautiful, incredible hands slips down the front of her panties, and they stop kissing her to kiss each other, and she whimpers, and her knees give out anyway.

“So dramatic,” Aaron whispers teasingly in her ear as he holds her up, big hands on her body, and she shakes her head, wets her lips.

“Not being dramatic. This is so fucking sexy.” Spencer—apparently not worried about the fact that she almost collapsed on them because Aaron wasn’t—slides two fingers over the slippery wet lips of her pussy, and she groans. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to take all the attention,” she murmurs, moving her hips against his hand. “Kiss some more, please.” Spencer huffs a laugh and leans in, catches Aaron’s lips with his. From her point of view she can see the slide of their tongues, lips pressing together, and she groans again.

“If it’s okay with you,” Spencer says to her when they separate, “I would really like to eat your pussy now.” He kisses her softly on the cheek, and she exhales, shaky.

“Yeah, please—please do that.”

“I’ll hold you,” Aaron whispers, lips at her ear. “I’ll be right here, I promise.” She hums, leans back against him, and Spencer drops to his knees, guides her panties down. She’s so wet there’s slick on the insides of her thighs, and when he lifts one leg to hook her knee around his shoulder, he licks it away. She shudders.

She feels like she should have known how hot and skillful his mouth would be, because he talks so fast sometimes that his brain—his incredibly high-functioning brain—can’t even keep up, and she usually finds his mouth cute, but right now she finds it sexy, will probably never be able to look at it without thinking of the way he feels with his tongue in her pussy.

He is very enthusiastic, licking her quick and deep, with one hand on her waist and the other rubbing her clit like he’s got a PhD in bringing girls to orgasm, and she knows she’s moaning like a slut, gets even louder when Aaron bites at her earlobe, kisses her neck, squeezes her breasts. “Fuck, oh fuck, yeah,” she pants, reaches a hand down to wrap it in Spencer’s hair, making him groan; she rocks against his delicious mouth, which he encourages, moving his hand to her ass and guiding her closer.

“Come for him, baby,” Aaron urges, hand inside the cup of her bra to pinch her nipple. “Isn’t he pretty, down on his knees for you?” She drops her head back against him, brings a hand to his hair, too.

“So pretty.” He stoops down to kiss her as best as he can, and Spencer’s looking up at them, gorgeous, and she comes tugging on both of them, panting into Aaron’s mouth.

When Spencer stands up and kisses her, mouth soft and wet after working her through her orgasm, and then Aaron leans in to taste both of them on her lips? It’s a wonder she doesn’t get weak in the knees again. Sophie is soft and pliant after she comes, clinging onto them, and Aaron lifts her into his arms and carries her to the bedroom, Spencer following closely behind. He sets her on the bed, unhooks her bra and pulls it off; Spencer watches closely as he does, kneels down to kiss her, brush his hands over her bare breasts, and she sighs at the treatment.

“What do you want to do?” Aaron asks them, getting down on his knees as well, and he kisses them, thrills at the similarities in their soft lips, soft skin.

“I wanna suck you both,” she says, and he touches her face gently.

“Are you sure you’re up for that? You look a little fuzzy.” He didn’t think that she would get submissive so quickly, since he hadn’t actually dominated her, but can see how feeling at the mercy of two men might make her go to that place; he just wants to make sure he does what’s best for her while she’s there.

“Might not be able to get you off, but I want them in my mouth. Can I?” She looks up at him, then at Spencer, who swallows visibly. Aaron gave him a little insight on the way there about how they normally interact with each other, how she likes to ask for permission and he likes to give it—or deny it, depending.

(Aaron Hotchner’s crash course on having a submissive girlfriend—he might have to find a way to monetize that, somehow.)

“You can, for a couple minutes. Then what do you want?” He looks to Spencer to see if he has anything in mind.

“I don’t—I’ve never done this,” he says quietly, and he and Sophie both touch him, and she nuzzles against his shoulder.

“Neither have we, it’s okay. You want to, though?” He looks at them with soft, open eyes, and nods without hesitation.

“Yeah, I want to.” Aaron takes his face in his hands, kisses him deeply.

“Okay, good. Sophie,” he says softly, touches her face too, “do you think you would be alright being with both of us at the same time?” She licks her lips and frowns a little like she’s confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe we could lay you down, and one of us could be inside your pussy, and one of us could be inside your mouth. I’ll take your mouth,” he decides quickly, because she doesn’t like it too fast or rough and he knows her limits, doesn’t want to hurt or overwhelm her. “You’ll be full of us, baby. Do you think you want that?” She closes her eyes, nods, and Spencer touches her throat with long, gentle fingers.

“You’d give us that?” he asks like he’s in awe, and Aaron gets it, knows how much it means that she trusts them with something like this. “You’re incredible, Sophie,” he murmurs against her lips, and she sighs, pulls him closer.

Watching them make out is a very enjoyable thing, made all the more so when he decides to come up behind Spencer to unbutton his pants, untuck his shirt. The younger man moans at the feel of his hands helping him undress, and he presses back against Aaron’s chest, panting and eager. He guides him to stand, gets him naked, and wraps a hand around his long, hard cock, stroking it a couple times.

“You want her mouth on you while I get undressed?” he asks, and Spencer bucks up into his hand, nods quickly. Sophie reaches for him, pulling him closer, and she licks at the head, moans. “Gently,” he murmurs in Spencer’s ear, “let her be in control.” He nods seriously, presses a hand to Sophie’s cheek when she takes him in.

Between the two of them, their moans are so filthy, wanton, that he craves the heat of their mouths, so he captures Spencer’s in a kiss when he can, pulling off his clothes slowly so they can enjoy the time together. “Sophie,” Spencer murmurs, and she looks up at him, and Aaron’s arms around him, and whines. She pulls off of him, licks her lips looking hungry.

“I’m ready for you guys.” The simple sentence makes his dick throb, and he lays her back on the bed, kisses her soft and sweet and slow. Spencer curls around them, kisses them and rubs his hands over their bare skin.

“Spencer, can you get in that drawer and take out a condom?” he has presence of mind to ask, glad that the ones they have should fit him, and he stretches up, all long, lithe muscles, grabs one and tears the wrapper open, rolling it on. Neither Aaron nor Sophie can take their eyes off of him, and when he’s finished, Aaron moves out of his way so he can settle between her legs. She hitches up her knees, and he knows first hand how inviting that can be, understands completely when he shivers with pleasure.

Aaron kisses Sophie a few more times, whispers sweet, loving words into her ear, and then he crawls up by her head, the tip of his dick at the same level as her mouth.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asks, running his hands over her breasts, and she nods, puts her hands on Spencer’s hips and pulls him closer until he is fully sheathed inside her; he keeps still, panting, and Aaron leads forward to brush his hair back. “You’re so gorgeous, Spencer,” he coos, and then he presses into Sophie's mouth, sighs.

She takes him in hand, guiding him in and out at a pace she’s comfortable with, so he just lets her take the lead and runs his hands over her body, Spencer’s fingers where they press against her thighs. He is pumping into her deeply now, an easy rhythm Sophie matches with her hand, and the room is filled with a symphony of soft, wet sounds and moans and hums that Aaron doesn’t think he’ll ever forget.

He is wholly unsurprised when he is the first to come, because watching Spencer’s hips move against her, his hands careful where he holds her down, and feeling her moan around his cock because she loves feeling full, it’s all too much for him. He spills with a groan, and Spencer watches his face like it’s art, which makes him feel warm in his chest. Something to explore at a later time.

Sophie lets go of him, panting, and he slides down to his belly so he can kiss her mouth, caress her. He looks up at Spencer, who appears to be trying so hard not to come, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, and he rubs Sophie’s clit to help get her close, so he’ll stop trying so hard and just let himself feel good.

“Oh, god,” Sophie whines, brings her hands up to squeeze hard at her breasts. “This is good, so good, mmm.” She starts bucking hard against him, her neck stretched long, and he knows the instant she comes, her mouth opening in a wordless moan before she all but howls her pleasure. Spencer groans, shifts his legs a little so he’s hovering over the both of them, and he thrusts for a few more seconds before finding his own orgasm. “Hmm, yes,” Sophie sighs, and he kisses her slowly, passionately; Aaron rubs both of their bodies as they shiver with aftershocks, and they all sink into the mattress, deeply spent.

They cuddle together for a few minutes, until Sophie complains she has to pee, and she and Spencer go into the bathroom together to take care of business. Aaron runs a hand through his hair and exhales long, because this is the absolute last thing he expected to happen, while also being one of the most unforgettable nights of his life; he knows they’ll look to him for guidance about what to do next, and he’s really not sure what to say when they do.

When they amble back into the room, they’re both smiling softly, and Aaron smiles because he can’t help it. They climb back onto the bed, Spencer in the middle, though Sophie reaches across him to rub at the hair on Aaron’s chest.

“So that’s a thing that happened,” Sophie says eventually, propped up on her elbow, looking over at their two blissed out faces with nothing short of affection. “Is it a thing that’s going to happen again, or a thing we swear up and down didn’t happen?—No pressure, only asking so I know how to compartmentalize my many, many thoughts.”

Aaron looks to Spencer and can’t help but feel like there’s something more worth exploring, there. He thinks Spencer feels the same when he pulls him in for a tender kiss.

“I think it should happen again,” Spencer murmurs, and Sophie leans down to kiss him too.

“Yeah, it should happen again.” Aaron sits up, smiles at his girl, guides her mouth to his.

“Okay, then.” They kiss again, easy, sweet, and he breathes a laugh. “We owe you for this, you know: you and your little shower performance.”

“Oscar worthy,” Spencer says with a grin, and Sophie shoves him playfully.

“Hey, a girl has needs.”

“And we’ll help you meet them,” Aaron promises, running a hand suggestively along her body, and she covers it with hers.

“No way. I’m tapped out, buddy. Unless I get sleep or pizza, no more sex from me tonight.” Aaron feigns hurt, pulls away, flops onto his back with an exaggerated sigh, and she crawls past Spencer to straddle his waist. “So dramatic,” she teases, leans down for a kiss, then climbs off the bed altogether. “I’m good with pizza—I don’t want to go to sleep just yet, not when I’ve got two pretty boys in my bed.”

“I second pizza,” Spencer murmurs, his face pressed against Aaron’s bicep. Sophie pauses in the doorway, a thoughtful look on her face.

“Do you think they’ll do a third veggie, and a third pepperoni, and a third Hawaiian? Or am I gonna have to order two pizzas?” She comes back over to the bed, kisses them both soft, affectionate, and smiles. “Always complicating things, Spencer Reid.”

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thenakedgingerwrites · 3 years

Text

Never Read The Comments (part 1)

The First Comment

“Arguing with people online never works, Kyle.”

I knew she was right, but it didn’t change my perspective. When I saw someone posting some crazy rhetoric online, especially if I detected hate to their words, I had to jump in. If nothing else, it showed other people that someone was willing to stand up against this bullshit.

“Yeah, I guess,” I replied.

“I bet you’re only doing this because he’s hot.” Katie laughed at her comment which irked me a bit.

“No, it’s because he’s a right-wing neo-nazi.”

“Sure, sure. But the tight clothes and thick muscles don’t hurt.”

I squinted at her. I wouldn’t be honest to her outloud but she had a point. The guy on Tok I had been commenting on was, indeed, hot. AltAndrew was ripped with a thick beard. He knew what he was doing with his tight clothes or open button-ups. If I had muted his videos I could have been convinced I was into him but the second he started talking racist nonsense it dashed those fantasies. I bet that’s why he had a following at all.

If only people weren’t so shallow to idolize and follow the ramblings of a hot guy on the internet.

“Whatever, Katie. I guess it doesn’t matter since I won’t convince anyone.”

She shrugged and sighed. “Kyle, I think it’s great that you speak up for marginalized people. I just wish it had the impact you hope it did.”

“Ha,” I laughed, mostly to myself. “Me too.”

“Anyway, it’s getting late so I should head home.”

Katie had been my best friend since high school and was the first person I came out too back then. We’d created a bit of a weekly ritual to get drunk on Wednesdays and catch up on our lives. She had settled down, still no kids yet but a handsome husband, Ben, we had met mutually in college. And here I was, single and arguing with idiots online.

“Okay. You good to drive?”

“Yeah, thanks Dad. You lapped me 2 hours ago so luckily we chose your place tonight.”

“I didn’t need Ben chastising me too.”

“Oh hush, you love it.” She winked at me and then started gathering up her things. I gave her a hug and saw her to her car before she headed back to the life she had created with someone.

I poured myself another glass of wine.

Taking it to bed, I idly swiped through my phone reviewing more of the dumb commentary these dumb hunks had to make. I was feeding my addiction.

Katie’s words stuck in my head and I caught myself swiping past people until I saw an attractive guy. Then, regardless of if I agreed with his opinion or not, I’d comment. Either reaffirming his good intentions, hoping to be noticed by him, or dragging him for his backwoods rhetoric, hoping the same.

One guy, in particular, had the audacity to say “America is the least racist place on the planet” which triggered me and drove me straight to the comments. There was a 50/50 split on the emotions there, but most points had been made logically and statistically discrediting that ‘opinion.’ So I added a simple jab:

[You should just stop talking, like, forever.]

I drained my glass and started on my nightly routine. Brushed my teeth, peed, moisturized my face and then laid down with my lotion for the final ritual, masturbating. A pump of white liquid in my hand and a favorite video of mine pulled up on my laptop set the scene.

Underwear pulled to my thigh, I began lubricating my growing cock as I watched a guy struggle to keep a heavy weight up with both hands while his pants began to slip down. I loved the humiliation genre on PornHub and this was one of my all-time favorites. My own cock was at full mast before the band of his underwear began to come into view.

The entire time the actor pretends to be embarrassed and terrified that his pants are slipping but unable to let the weight down for whatever reason. After his pants pass his thigh, his large pouch is exposed to me. I’m almost ready to shoot then and there but it’s at that moment the actor notices his underwear is stuck on his back pocket.

As his jeans continue to slip below the frame, it pulls his briefs as well. His panicking becomes more frantic and loud as the waistband starts to melt downward.

Pubes are exposed, thick and private but exposed for me and everyone watching. Then the base of his soft cock. He’s begging at this point to put the weight down but is, again, unable to or not allowed to.

He tries to spread his legs to keep his underwear up; keeping his shame covered. But he quivers in embarrassment which shudders his legs together. That movement is all that’s needed for the weight of the jeans, now likely at his calf, to win out.

In an instant his briefs are ripped downward out of frame. “Oh god! No!” he yells as his soft cock bounces up and out into view. It’s not necessarily a huge dick, probably average, but the thrill is the humiliation.

The moment his cock and balls burst onto my screen I shoot. Rope after rope splatters onto my t-shirt. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cum to that video. The mysterious man continues to stand there panicking, pleading to cover himself, as I come down from my orgasm high.

Shutting the laptop, I place it on my nightstand. I peel my shirt off keeping the wet parts away from my face and ball the shirt up before tossing it into my laundry bin by the door. Luckily, and a bit surprisingly, I made it in.

With that, I roll over and let sleep take me, high on endorphins and forgetting about the idiots on the internet for a bit.

#mind control #aware

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