#Which is whatever but like the whole ‘there’s gotta be something mixed in with you’ from elderly sick pol doesn’t feel nearly as bad as-

[cassandralexxx]

Actually no I am so pressed like it is actually absurd the number of times I have had to say “well English is my first language” while up here these past few years. to a point it’s like kind of insulting like people seem to ignore all of my background and greater details about myself and focus in on half of my ethnicity.

#mylife #Kind of a continuation of earlier #Honestly it may be in part bc I look more Hispanic now? #Like my hair is darker than when I was younger and I have curly hair now (ty immunosuppressants 🤩) #Like my sister has always had a bit darker features and she had to tell one of her teachers in hs that English was her first language 🤷‍♀️ #I think another reason may be the way I talk? I used to use far more formal vocabulary #So maybe now that verbiage is different I come across as “uneducated” (which is so stupid and problematic) #But honestly I think geography is the biggest thing back home I was white and here I’m “not” #One of my friends was soooooo shocked that my dad was white like he’s “so white” in comparison to like me and my mom and it’s like idk #Not me being pressed about something from like 12 hours ago 😋 #But it’s like why is it I have spent almost all my life so normal and I come here and within the last 3 years I’ve had to #Literally point out that English is my first language bc of like stereotypical/insulting assumptions multiple times #Like I hate that it’s my friends that have done it. Like yes old white men at the hospital on 3 occasions have clocked me as not white #Which is whatever but like the whole ‘there’s gotta be something mixed in with you’ from elderly sick pol doesn’t feel nearly as bad as- #-my peers and friends with their directness and implications

[ghostaholics]

𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 '𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓' 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

➸ PAIRING: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!Reader

➸ CHOKING: he doesn't squeeze that hard – just applies enough pressure the way you like it until that familiar glassy-eyed expression falls over your face, something lust-addled; he always uses his left arm, the one that's all tatted up, consists of intricate pieces he's collected over time until it's formed an elaborate black and white collage that’s inked into his skin – he enjoys seeing how you try to enclose two hands over the entirety of his muscled forearm but can't quite round off the circumference of it, not even trying to get him to pry his grip from your throat, but to keep him there and occasionally prompt him for a little bit more constriction if you need it (❝ Look so fuckin' good like this, don’t you love? ❞)

➸ FAVORITE POSITIONS: anything that can get him as deep inside you as possible, bottomed-out so that he can watch you take every thick inch of him which includes, but is not limited to

(1) mating press or any other variation of it – basically an aggressive 'missionary-style' that gives him the advantage of pile-driving into you, will try to ease your legs onto his shoulders for as long as you can handle it; also likes this because he can still see your eyes roll back in between thrusts when he just grinds into your cunt for a bit while he takes a break and plays with your clit (❝ Greedy cunt's just swallowin' me whole, innit? ❞)

(2) face-down, ass-up - has to pull on your hair a little so you bring your head up to make sure your mouth's not muffled by the pillow (he needs to hear each long, drawn-out moan he can get from you every time he brushes up against that special spot inside you); very primal and powerful, allows him the opportunity to see the arch of your back like this while he's gripping onto your hips for leverage but it's also just so fucking tight and deep (❝ You can take it all, can't you, sweetheart? Yeah, that's my girl. ❞)

➸ DIRTY TALK: typically more reserved in day-to-day conversation, had to work up to being vocal in the bedroom, which now consists of a diverse mixture of low groans, lots of swearing (fuck, shite, or whatever other word that accurately expresses everything he's feeling when he hasn't got a single coherent bloody thought at the moment), as well as any filth like

❝ Gotta stretch you out – work you open on my fingers… Y’know it’d be a shame to wreck this tight, little cunt before I’ve had my fill. ❞

❝ Can’t wait ‘til you milk every last drop of cum from my cock, love. ❞

❝ Where’d your manners go? Say ‘please.’ Let me hear you beg for it. ❞

❝ Christ, I’m gonna flood this fuckin’ cunt. ❞

❝ Do I look like I’m done? Lettin’ my cum leak out… I don’t think so sweetheart. Gotta fuck it back into you now. ❞

❝ Again – love, I'm not stopping until I get another one outta you. So be a good girl and fuckin' come for me. ❞

➸ SPITTING: has a few places he’s fond of; will lift up his mask just above his mouth in order to make it happen

(1) in your mouth, tongue held out in anticipation – he discovers that you’ve got a thing for spit play after a particularly hungry and feverish kiss that has him starving for you, swallowing down your moans, and when he pulls away there’s sort of a wet, glossy little sheen left behind on your lips that you run your tongue over; so, you ask him if he can spit in your mouth because you feel like you need more than just a kiss – he obliges because it reminds him of his cum on your tongue after he asks you where you want him to finish sometimes

(2) on your pussy – absolutely no valid reason for this other than the fact that he really likes rubbing his spit into your cunt and watching it mix with the slickness in between your legs just to make an even bigger mess than the one that’s already there

(3) in his hand, covering his palm – uses it to coat his cock with a few passes over the length of it with his fist, a few harsh tugs at his shaft and a smear of his precum at the head; doesn't really have to because you're wet enough (still wishes he had the opportunity to get you completely fucking soaked, except the circumstances won't allow it), but he's pressed for time, knows it won't be better than the natural lubrication of your own arousal and doesn't care too much since the idea of it makes him that much harder right before he slides on home into your cunt

➸ EATING YOU OUT: he loves it, needs it; heaven between your legs, groans whenever he gets a taste of you, can't resist grabbing handfuls of your ass to bring you impossibly closer to his mouth, tongue flattening and stroking and licking its way into your cunt as you rock down, hips rolling, squirming under the iron-clad grip he's got on your thighs – craves the hot slick rushing out of you, doesn't want to waste a single drop but can't control the way your orgasm liquefies into a sticky and clear wetness that paints his lips and his chin (❝ C’mere. Gonna have you make a mess on my face. ❞ )

➸ DACRYPHILIA: when you're wrought with overstimulation, so, so sensitive after he's ripped the first few orgasms from you – tears prick at the corner of your eyes, a stinging, burning sensation growing in your throat as you try to tamp it down until the first wayward drops of brackish water escape, rolling over your cheeks unsolicited not because the sex hurt but because it was too good and you can't sort out the knotted tangle of emotions you harbor for simon; he asks in a rough and hoarse voice if you're okay, brushes the tears away in a questioning gesture with scarred knuckles until you admit exactly what the cause is, which elicits a deep moan from him signaling that he might just give you another reason to cry

➸ TEASING: rubs the head of his cock against the entrance of your awaiting cunt, back and forth, slowly, just so he can hear you whining impatiently for him to put it in because you hate the feeling of being empty; maybe you should ask nicely, try being polite – it might be the solution to putting an end to your misery

#banner credit to cafekitsune #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #cod mw 2 smut #cod mw x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty headcanons #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty smut #ghost cod

[riality-check]

Eddie needs this to go perfectly.

He’s… okay, saying he’s not an anxious person would be a lie. Eddie is very acquainted with the fight or flight instinct, with the latter of those two options being far more familiar. He’s vaguely obsessive and twitchy and, frankly, puts way too much thought and time into planning one-shots, nevermind regular campaign sessions.

Majority of the time, he likes to have control of a situation. There are reasons for that, plenty of which he knows, some of which he’s gone to therapy for, and more that are on the bedroom and currently irrelevant side of things.

The relevant side of things is the guy in front of him who doesn’t have any sort of ear protection on.

Eddie should mind his business. He really should. Corroded Coffin isn’t even headlining. They’re the openers for the tour of a much bigger band that noticed them and asked if they wanted to tour with them and Archie fangirled so hard he passed out. It was a whole thing.

Still, it’s their first real tour, and Eddie is a control freak, and he needs it to be perfect, which means no one gets hurt. This random guy - probably a roadie of some sort from how he’s plugging cables into something Eddie doesn’t know the name of - not having any sort of ear protection counts as someone maybe getting hurt.

Eddie doesn’t even know him, but he can’t have that happen.

Hell, this guy’s friend has her earplugs looped around her neck on a string like Eddie does. But Hottie - yeah, he’s hot and Eddie’s queer with a healthy sex drive, get over it - has none in sight.

That’s a problem. Eddie can’t have problems, not tonight, not before the first show.

“Hey!” he calls, walking over to Hottie and his friend, who are setting up equipment away from the stage. “You gotta have something for your ears, dude!”

Hottie and his friend exchange a look that Eddie can’t make heads or tails of.

“Thanks man,” Hottie says, and that nickname applies to his voice, too. “But I’m good.”

Eddie frowns. “You need to protect your hearing.”

“Trust me,” Hottie says. “I’ve worked a lot of gigs. Never wore anything then, won’t wear anything now, probably won’t wear anything at the next one.”

Okay. It’s fine. Eddie should walk away now. He’s totally capable of walking away. It is, quite obviously, the better alternative to this circular conversation.

But Hottie is gonna hurt himself this way. Potentially really badly if it’s not a one time thing. This is a metal show, for G-d’s sake. He’ll do some serious damage over time.

Eddie needs this to go perfectly, and for things to go perfectly, he can’t be responsible for that.

“I don’t think you get it,” he says. “You’re gonna destroy your ears that way, especially if you do this for a long time. This show is gonna be really intense, hell, the whole tour is! You can get cheap shit at the hardware store, it’s better than nothing-”

At the beginning of his rant, lecture, whatever, Hottie stares right at him. He has a really intense stare. Pretty brown eyes set in a prettier face with even prettier hair on top of his head. Eddie gets distracted by all that pretty and by trying to make his point.

And he doesn’t notice until halfway through that Hottie isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s looking at his friend.

Eddie looks at her, too. Looks at her confused and focused expression. Looks at her hands moving rapidly.

Oh. G-d.

Hottie’s deaf, isn’t he?

“Trying my best but I’m not fluent, Steve,” she says. Her hands pause, and she looks down at them, confused.

Hottie - Steve - shrugs, and his hands move as he talks. “I’m not either. You were doing pretty good, though. I think. Or our mistakes just line up that well.”

“What’s the sign for reverb? It’s the last word he said.”

“No clue. You can just fingerspell it.”

“I can’t remember R.”

“How do you forget R? It’s in your name, Robin!”

The friend - Robin - throws her hands up. “You know I get it mixed up with X!”

Eddie wants to die. This is it. He’s going to melt into a puddle due to sheer embarrassment, fifteen minutes before the doors open to let in the biggest crowd Corroded Coffin has ever played for.

What a shitty way to go.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “I didn’t-”

Steve cuts him off. “Normally, I can lip read enough to get the gist. But you speak too fast and trip over your words.”

Ouch. Okay.

“I do lights,” he continues. “Robin does sound. We know what we’re doing, and we don’t need you to tell us how to do our jobs, even if you mean well.”

Seriously?

Eddie should have minded his business. He knows that. But G-ddamn, that’s blunt.

He’s saved, thankfully, from digging himself into a bigger hole.

“Eddie!” Jeff hollers from the stage. “Get your ass over here!”

He turns to walk away, then turns back to Steve and Robin. “Sorry,” he says again.

He turns back around before he can see their reactions and runs back toward the stage. Intimately familiar with flight, and all that.

Shit. First night of tour, and he’s already made an enemy of the light and sound people.

And the light guy is hot.

Really hot.

And he hates Eddie.

This is gonna be a long few weeks.

Now with a continuation and a part 3!

ao3

#ria writes #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #corroded coffin #hoh steve harrington #jewish eddie munson #(he snuck his way in here) #rockstar eddie munson #stranger things #st #steanger things #stranger things ficlet #st ficlet #gi;pe au

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hey! I love your writing! I swear I feel like I’ve read Avery thing because it is so good🫶 I absolutely love the way you write the boys and their personalities, truly my favourite!

I was also wondering if I could request a fic? Feel free to ignore. But can I request a poly! Marauders comfort fic kind of based on my day rn😭today I had to get glasses after sooo many years of not needing them. And I bough a pair but hate the way I look in them. Came straight home and cried about it, which turned to not feeling good enough in general.

Hi sweetheart! thank you for requesting! i'm so sorry that happened, i hate my glasses too. i hope you are feeling better, you're absolutely gorgeous and glasses can't change that. gn!reader x poly!marauders

cw: insecurity, swearing

1k words

You were staring into the mirror, switching between taking your new glasses off and putting them back on. When you took them off, your head began throbbing and your vision blurred. When they were back on you winced painfully at your appearance in the mirror. A mix of insecurity over the way the frames looked, and the new clarity you had in seeing your face. It was like putting the glasses on had opened a Pandora’s Box of insecurity. Now, no matter if they were on or off, you couldn’t stop picking apart your face. 

You set the glasses on the counter, scrubbing your watery eyes with the heel of your hand and wishing you never had to see yourself again. Remus found you in the bathroom, face pinched painfully and sniffling as you covered your eyes. 

“Dovey,” He said, fear creeping into his tone. “What’s happened, huh?” He shuffled over to your side, spinning you around to face him. His large hands were braced on your shaking shoulders as you hid your face in your hands and whined in a way that made his heart clench. He went to pull your wrists away from your face, which was when you spoke up.

“No, no.” You held fast, keeping your hands firmly in place. 

“Are you hurt? Why won’t you let me see you?” This whole situation was clearly making your usually calm boyfriend's head spin. He was at a loss, not wanting to become aggressive and scare you more, but also needing to get to the bottom of whatever was happening. He settled on tucking you into his chest and cradling the back of your head as you cried. You sniffled sadly into his knit sweater as two sets of feet padded across the carpet, stopping in the doorway of the bathroom. 

“Fuck,” Sirius said. Remus would’ve scolded him, if it hadn’t required him to pull away from you. “What’s going on?” He placed a hand in the middle of your back, eyes roving over you for a source of pain. James was equally distraught, but he handled this kind of thing best. He had a way of pulling guarded information out of people. 

“Baby, what’s got you crying so hard?” You lifted your face from Remus’ chest, still looking down to shield yourself. Remus tried to tilt your chin up, but you were being unusually stubborn. 

“Let me look at you.” Remus said, knocking his knuckles under your chin. You just shook your head. James turned you so all three of the boys were in front of you and tried to make you look up again, but you held fast and James was too scared of hurting you.

“Why won’t you let us see you, sweetheart?” James probed. Something in his gentle tone just broke you further, making you want to spill your guts. You relaxed enough for James to make you look up, red-rimmed eyes and glossy features making him want to cry as well. 

“Baby,” Sirius gasped. You breathed as deep as you could, trying not to cry worse as Remus used his sleeve to wipe at your wet cheeks. You were doing okay, until a wave of pain ripped through your head, making you grab your temples and whine. James cooed, familiar with the feeling and reached for your glasses. 

“No, I don’t want them.” You choked, miserably. 

“You’ve gotta wear them, lovely. Or your headache is jus’ gonna get worse.” He smoothed your hair away from your face, but you still wouldn’t let him put them on you. 

“Why don’t you wanna wear your glasses, baby?” Sirius questioned. 

“I hate them, they make me look so ugly. Like a fly or something.” You cringed wetly. Remus inhaled sharply, grabbing you to hold you again. 

“Is that what's made you so sad?” He whispered, kissing the top of your head as you nodded against his chest. James pouted, wanting to cry. 

“Wait,” Sirius cut in, sounding incredulous. “Is that why you wouldn’t let us look at you too?” James looked shell shocked and Remus’ face was pinched. You nodded again. 

“Sweetheart,” James pulled you from Remus’ grasp to have you look at them. He held your face, looking at you with too much love as we wiped your cheeks again. You were still wincing, uncomfortable from all the attention. Sirius turned your face to see him. 

“You’re breakin’ our hearts, sweet thing.” He smiled sadly at you. “Can’t believe you would think that.” He stroked your jaw with his thumb, pity covering his features. James let you go so that Sirius could have his turn loving on you. He held your gaze, letting his fingers roam over your features. “My baby, you’re so pretty. So, so fucking pretty. There’s nothing you could do to make us think otherwise. No reason to ever have to hide yourself from us.” He glanced over to Remus, wordlessly asking for the glasses. You tried to shrink away, but you were stopped by his hold on you. 

“You’re gonna hate them.” You warned, giving up on winning this battle. Remus scoffed. 

“You really think some glasses are gonna stop you from being gorgeous?” He asked like you were being silly. “Do you think that James is ugly? Do you think that we think James is ugly?” He looked at you accusatory. 

“No! Of course not!” You looked at James, floundering to make sure he wasn’t hurt. He just smiled at you reassuringly, placing a hand on your shoulder to placate you. 

“See, if you can love me with mine, then hopefully you can see that we love you with yours.” James rubbed your back as Sirius slid the frames onto your face, leaning forward to kiss your nose. 

“See? Absolutely gorgeous.” The pale boy praised. James turned you to face him, eyes swelling with fondness as he grabbed your face in his hands. 

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed. “I love them!” They had all known that you were getting glasses, but they hadn't seen them yet. You shied under his love. “You look so fucking precious.” He cooed, turning your face to let Remus see. “What do you think, Moons?” He leaned down to kiss your cheek. 

“Perfect.” Remus smiled softly, making your own spread across your face. 

Maybe they weren’t so bad.

#poly!marauders #poly marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #sirius x reader #james x reader #remus x reader #marauders #marauders fanfiction #drabble #fluff #marauders fandom #marauders era #anon ask #anon request #lily’s asks

[alazystranger]

zolu fic recommendations? (i can take reading angst now)

Ooh, this is going to be bit of a long post. i have tried to include a mix of both angsty and otherwise.

*cracks knuckles* alright let's get down to it! I have included the summaries as given by the authors below the link.

let thy sword be thy tongue by queerweather. A personal favorite! I go back to this one a lot.

Hindsight is twenty-twenty, and Zoro is not afraid of Luffy handling his swords; Zoro is afraid of how Luffy handling his swords might unravel him.

Love you by willoffire123. Both angsty and sweet! Kind of like my comfort fic

When Luffy goes overboard one night during a winter storm, Zoro dives after him and the two are separated from their ship. Stranded on a winter island, slowly freezing to death, Luffy and Zoro come to realize their long dormant feelings for each other. Can they say their love in two words or less? Or will the winter island take their lives before they get the chance?

Loyal Till Death Do Us Part by StygianHeart. You said you can take angst now, anon? *cackles maniacally* this one has it all- whump luffy, traumatized zoro and what not. It has 13 chapters and it's absolutely worth it

Roronoa Zoro knows he’s loyal to a fault. And maybe that loyalty is only for his Captain and Crew. But realizing his loyalty for Luffy is also something more, something more personal and emotional, was not what Zoro wanted. And he definitely didn’t want the voices in his head to get so loud. But hey, we never get what we want, do we? In which Zoro figures out he’s in love with his captain and is in great denial, all while struggling through emotional repression and a bunch of shit he doesn’t deserve. Go figures.

running just to keep my hands on you by nevermordor. another fic i love to read again and again.

The thing they do is kind of like a game, because Luffy likes games, but it’s also kind of a competition because Zoro can’t not turn anything and everything into a competition. It doesn’t have a name and there are only two rules, because more than two would just be making things boring and overcomplicated. 1. Whoever takes out the most guys in a fight is the winner 2. Whoever is the loser has to do whatever the winner says “Why’s it gotta be a whole game and stuff," Luffy says. "That’s gonna take too long.” “It makes sex more fun," Zoro explains. "You gotta win it, you gotta earn it. Like anything good in life. Like pirate king or greatest swordsman.” Luffy considers this.

A gamble on love by SnailorBee. short and fluffy. had me grinning like an idiot. perfect fic to recover from the angsty ones.

Pre-Time Skip! "We have a bet amongst the crew, minus Chopper. You want in?" "A bet?" Brook repeated, mystified. "About what?" "If those two idiots are dating or not." Nami jerked her chin in the direction of the nap pile behind him. Strawhats and their bets about Luffy and Zoro.

To cut your teeth on love by freckledshoulderblades. basically a series of snippets from their first meeting to just after timeskip but full of zolu feels.

Zoro meets Luffy and gives himself over wholeheartedly the instant Wadō is placed between his teeth again. Luffy meets Zoro and decides in a heartbeat that Zoro is his.

poly philtatos(the most loved by far) by swordsmans. another personal favorite!

He keeps moving forward at a steady pace, resisting the urge to run because how fucking embarrassing would that be, running because he missed them, and as he breaks through the treeline he shouts, “Oi, oi—what took you guys so long? It's been—” And then he freezes, because yes, actually—something is very, very wrong. The Sunny is anchored just off shore, close enough to see the deck but far enough away that the crew has had to take the Mini Merry to make land. Scattered across the beach in various stages of chaos—rolling around, yelling, fighting—are his crew but not his crew, so similar and yet so, so different. They look younger, fresher, and whatthefuck there, on the deck of the Sunny just peering over the railing, he catches a flash of green—his own green hair— “Ah, fuck,” he grunts, and then immediately turns back around because no, actually, he does not want to deal with this.

These are a few of my picks. if you want more/shorter fics/if you were looking for something else, don't hesitate to send me another ask!

#zolu fic recs #zolu fanfic #these fics are really so precious to me it's insane #my second ask yay #zolu

[angelbitezzz]

Now where in the hell did she go?

Prev - Next - First

(more pictures and writing under the cut)

God damn it. Sans had one job—keep an eye on the human, make sure she rested, keep her out of trouble. Now, as he stared dumbfoundedly down at the obviously empty couch on the first floor, he only had one real thought come floating through his fatigued skull.

"i'm gonna kill that girl."

He threw his soiled jacket somewhere in the corner of his room and snatched his hoodie from where it was hung next to his door, slipping it on as he shoved socked feet into slippers, descending the stairs so quickly he may as well have teleported. Far be it from him to ever move that fast on purpose—apparently, that was another thing she was able to do to him without him knowing, damn it all. Frustration simmered at the back of his throat, but even he knew that the feeling was covering a darker, more icy fear that clutched at the inside of his ribcage and froze into a heavy thing somewhere next to his SOUL. She needed to rest. She needed to stay out of sight for now until they figured things out with her magic. She needed to stay safe, fuck, and even just thinking that sent an uncomfortable rattle up along his spine. He didn't bother opening the front door, he jolted through space and found himself outside a few feet away.

"think, sans, think. where would she—"

His pupils settled on the ground. Blue grass and sand mixed together to create an uneven path leading through the village proper. The isles were on the night cycle now—which, didn't look different, but having something of a curfew helped with the constant feeling of nighttime—so nobody was around save for some real night owl types. Sans had excellent night vision, picking out the disturbed sand leading through the village and far to the left, back towards the entrance. He took a step and jittered to the far end, focused on the footprints leading up, until the grass and sand gave away to stone, ascending on a gentle incline that only grew steeper until it led to a cliff overlooking a majority of the Starlight Isles and surrounding territories.

His steps slowed as a silhouette came into view near the edge, an ambient warm breeze tugging the cape pulled around their shoulders. Briefly, he thought he'd stumbled across Count Koffin K doing something...but when they raised their head to gaze upward, he realized he'd found his target.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and resisted the urge to stomp his way up the cliff to her side.

"and what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Angel startled a little, jerking around halfway and flinching. Burning purple eyes met his own, wide and alarmed.

For a second, he felt like they fit right in with the "stars" in their sky.

"Oh! Oh. Sans. Hey."

"answer the question, human."

"Right. Um." Her gaze trailed away, back over the edge of the cliff. "Well don't worry, I didn't fuck off to, uh...y'know. Yeah. Ye—yeah. I'm just, just..."

He didn't speak, recognizing by the tone of her voice that she was struggling to get her thoughts out. She got scrambled like that sometimes—it reminded him of Alphys...when she wasn't putting on a whole fake persona, anyways.

"...Processing. Mhm."

"your near death experience or your magic?"

"Can it be both?"

He inclined his head and slowly stepped forward, moving to stand beside her. There was a very long pause before he spoke.

"well, uh, anyways. asgore said you gotta rest. my brother'll have a conniption if he finds out you're out here."

"Right. Sorry. I just...really needed to get some air. Please."

Frustration boiled behind his teeth, but he sucked back the smoke and smiled anyways. When she glanced at him, whatever she saw in his expression made her grimace and look away again.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm not dying."

"you nearly did." The lights in his eyesockets extinguished, smile thinning until it was nearly a frown. "like, 6 hours ago. unless you forgot. i mean...wouldn't really be surprised, ya did hit your head pretty hard during your little stunt."

"God, Sans, can you just—not? For once?"

"i dunno what you mean."

She whirled on him, a desperate sort of anger flashing onto her features.

"You know exactly what I mean! Don't kick me while I'm down. I—"

"i'm trying to get you back in bed before anyone sees you, but hey, if you wanna keep acting like a babybones, be my guest."

"I'm NOT—" Angel cut herself off and shut her eyes, drawing Sans's cape around her shoulders tighter and covering her face with a hand. "Not...fuck. Fuck. Sans. I–I don't need you to act like my parent. Be all weird and protective over your brother, but don't...let's not pretend. Don't do the same with me cuz you think you have to. It hurts."

He didn't know what to say, for once. There was a quiet swallowing sound while he searched for something, anything to respond to that. Seconds dragged into minutes before she spoke again.

"...I'm gonna die down here."

"hey, you just said you're not—"

"No, Sans." She interrupted, insistent, voice pitching high and broken. "I'm gonna die down here. This place, it's driving me fucking mental. I don't. I don't know what to do."

Her hand slipped away again, a frightened, tight little grin stretching across her face as she looked at him. It looked like it hurt.

"The sun. I miss the sun. I feel like I've been stuck in a damn time loop where it's always night time and I do the same damn shit every day! Yesterday was the first time in weeks that I felt like something new happened and I completely fucked it. I've been having so much fun here that I forgot that—I forgot. I forgot!" She began to laugh, gesturing to her body frantically, trying to get a point across. "I forgot!"

Sans listened to her speak with an increasing feeling of worry, frustration melting into concern the longer she went on.

"kid—" He started, but she cut him off again, her laughter ceasing as quickly as it had come, turning her body away.

"Don't. Please don't. I don't think I could stand if it you started with the pity train."

"wasn't the pity train, was more like the empathy express."

His weak attempt at humor did bring a smaller, more genuine twitch of her mouth than whatever fake grin she'd been trying to keep up. How had she ever managed to fool him before? In hindsight, it was obvious now, all the times she'd been pretending at joy.

Ah, but then, she was the perseverant kind of person. Maybe she was just...used to that.

He didn't want to know why.

"i was just gonna say...you're not alone."

He reached out and set a hand on her shoulder, struggling to find the words. Sun sickness had been a lot more prevalent back during the aftermath of the war—he had no experience dealing with it directly.

"it ain't so bad. you're still here. people down here like you."

"...Do you even like me?"

"huh?"

Angel turned her head just a little, enough to catch his gaze with her own. She looked exhausted, the warm breeze threatening to spill the tears welling up in her eyes.

"I pay attention, you know. You—god, Sans, you only tolerate me cuz I'm friends with Papyrus, right? Sometimes I feel like we get along great, and then something happens and you just...act off. Am I that much of a burden to you? Should I just leave?"

His thoughts flashed back to the day before. The panic that had thrummed through his body at the mere thought of losing her, that same panic that had brought him out here looking for her in the first place.

"i..." He hesitated. "...think it's been a long day, angel. you're tired and homesick and still coming down from the adrenaline high from earlier. you'll feel better in the morning."

Angel just gazed at him for a long, long moment. Those purple eyes searching for something in his expression before they went lax, her face flattening.

"...You're right. You're right. I'm just..." A lump in her throat. The tears began streaking down her face, dripping off her chin. "...so tired."

"hey." His voice was soft now, softer than she'd heard it before. "...i get the feeling, bud."

Her shoulders shaking, she raised a hand and slipped it over the one he had on her shoulder just for some measure of comfort, head ducking and turning away as she quietly hiccuped. He let her hold him there, warm fingers on chilled bones as she anchored herself again in the present.

It was a good long while before she let him take her home.

...

"Hey, Sans...?"

"mhm?"

"I forgot my glasses. You're gonna have to lead me back."

#art #my art #digital art #doodle #ts underswap #Crossbones and Starstruck #ts underswap self insert #self ship #ts underswap sans #underswap sans #tonight we get ANGSTY #look i love sans and he's a great guy but hes also kind of an asshole sometimes and thats okay #he's trying #fanfic #if the pictures seem really out of order i promise im trhing to fix it tumblr mobile just hates me

[slipperyskell]

Man I’m gonna be completely honest: I don’t really care if Monty killed Bonnie or not at this point, but with the evidence we’re given in Ruin (not counting the lil story we get on the gator gondola ride because regardless of what the truth is, that was a [very cute] cover up story for whatever actually happened), there are some things seriously not lining up with Monty being the one to kill him.

First off: Bonnie’s last location was in Gator Golf. How the hell did he end up dying in Bonnie Bowl? Which is what happened, you can see where his head hit the wall + the broken bowling ball around Bonnie’s head, too. And it’s not like he could have been dragged from Gator Golf to Bonnie Bowl - afaik they’re pretty far apart from each other and the cameras would have caught it.

Secondly, and I think this is really important: Monty didn’t get his claws until AFTER Bonnie disappeared. Not to mention that Bonnie had claws to help him play the bass, too. It’s clearly stated that those claws are very good at wrecking shit, but there’s no way something without them could have ripped through Bonnie that easily. That being said, there are very clear claw marks on Bonnie’s chest, with three fingered claws. Personally I don’t think that’s green paint smudged around the injury since paint chipping doesn’t work like that from what I understand, but it might be plastic rub from the casings instead? Or even just dirt tbh - I haven’t played the game myself but looking at pictures/videos of it, it doesn’t really look like that same bright green that Monty or any of the bots are painted with.

Obviously the PeePaw Parts theory doesn’t hold up anymore since none of Bonnie’s Parts are missing, and imo it can be taken either way whether FazEnt actually found Bonnie. They mention him being decommissioned in one of the notes in base game, but that could be a matter of them never finding him and just assuming that’s what happened. It’s implied that ALL of the bots use AI to function, and it’s also implied that Bonnie’s disappearance happened a while before the events of SB, so while I think it’s a little bit of a stretch, it could be that the wet floor bots found him and stayed with him, but being in a hidden room, none of the human employees did.

Despite the Mimic’s prowess, I think it’s very unlikely that it had anything to do with Bonnie’s death as it was pretty clearly stated that it was trapped under the plex for a very long time, before the plex was even built. So unless it he hacked into another animatronic - which is very likely given that’s pretty much the entire plot of SB in the first place - don’t think it had anything to do with it directly (as in it put on Monty’s casings and killed Bonnie as a red herring situation)

Then you have the whole thing with Bonnie’s glowing eyes, which has only really been associated with bots being possessed (and that secret room in SB where you gotta take a picture of all the old cutouts of the gang). Was Bonnie possessed? Did the soul and the AI not merge well and cause him to go mad before taking himself out?

Then we have the whole thing with the MXES security system!!! All that rabbit imagery and the fact that the Glamrocks were a part of that system as well as being under the Mimic’s control, I can’t help but feel like there was some sort of mix-up.

I really don’t know what this all means or where I’m going with this.I think it’s possible that Monty was actually the one who killed him, but only because there really isn’t any evidence (or lack thereof) to say it could have been anyone else. That being said, theres a lot of things not adding up in that story (Bonnie’s last location being gator golf when he’s actually in bonnie bowl + Monty not having his claws installed until AFTER Bonnie’s disappearance being the big ones). If Monty was actually the one to hbe done it, I think it’s possible he may not have done it intentionally/maliciously - I think it’s possible that the mimic had assumed Bonnie was tied to MXES system and killed him through Monty or one of the other animatronics.

It’s really hard to say tbh!!! I’m just more interested in the “why” than the “who” at this point.

#fnaf #five nights at Freddy’s #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #Monty gator #Montgomery gator #glamrock bonnie #fnaf monty #Monty fnaf #Bonnie fnaf #fnaf bonnie

[ryanmarshallryan]

Another vore story inspired by a fun roleplay! Two bros, Jared and Porter, have dinner together, and Porter becomes part of the menu.

Jared and Porter met through a mutual friend who had invited them both over to watch a game a few weeks ago. The pair vibed well with each other and decided to hang out a few more times, which leads us to the main event, or should I say - feast.

Porter came over to Jared’s flat for another game. By the end of their little watch party, the pair of them were starving and Jared suggested Porter stay for dinner.

“I don’t wanna put you out, I can wait to make something when I get home,” Porter replied to him.

“Plenty of food right here, my guy,” Jared said, placing a rather large hand on Porter’s shoulder.

Porter shrugged. Why not stay? Jared got to work making enough fried rice, vegetables, and chicken, to feed a sizable commune.

“I haven’t gotten in meal prep, but I hear it can be super helpful during the week,” Porter said, assuming Jared was making lots of extra to freeze and have later on.

“Oh? Buddy, I don’t think I meal prep in the way you’re thinking. I could eat all this food and more,” Jared said, slapping his gut, and jiggling his 400 pound frame.

Porter lifted his eyebrows slightly, impressed by the big man’s hunger. He offered to help prepare the food, but Jared brushed him off.

“All you gotta do is relax. I got you,” Jared replied, patting Porter on the back. As Jared got close to Porter he could smell his natural scent, and his stomach began to rumble loudly.

A kitchen timer later, Jared and Porter were back on the couch eating huge portions of the dinner together out of oversized mixing bowls. In what seemed like only seconds, Jared tipped the bowl back into his mouth and swallowed the last of the food. Jared got up, and got another helping… and another… and another…

“Hey, should I fry up some sausages? I could do with something thicker sliding down my throat,” Jared suggested.

Porter, who was still working on his first bowl of fried rice and assorted veggies and such, replied, “I think I’m good, this bowl is great for now.” Porter watched Jared get up and get to work again, frying sausages and absent mindedly rubbing his gurgling belly, just barely beginning to distend. Jared didn't even stop to put the sausages on a plate, but just turned off the heat, and swallowed them each whole in succession, then chugged a large glass of water.

Jared came back and crashed onto the couch, rubbing his belly in a clockwise motion. It gurgled and groaned, beginning to digest the monster amount of food inside.

“Are you still hungry or is your belly just gurgling as it digests that big meal?” Porter asked, in awe of the belly in front of him, rising and falling with Jared’s breath.

“Bro, I’m always hungry, sure it’s digesting, but it could always welcome more,” Jared replied, “Hey you gonna finish that?” Jared said pointing at the half eaten bowl of food Porter had been holding. Porter shrugged again with a smirk and handed it over to Jared, who threw back the bowl into his mouth and swallowed the rest whole.

“Hey - I think there was a fork still in there,” Porter started, but Jared burped and chuckled at Porter.

“Caught it with my tongue,” Jared replied, placing down the fork.

A moment passed, filled with the sounds of belly gurgles and breathing. Porter broke the silence, “You know those intrusive thoughts - or is it impulsive - whatever it is,”

“I know what you’re saying.”

“Yeah those thoughts - I just had the random urge to put my ear to your belly and hear those gurgles up close,” Porter said with a nervous laugh, “Sorry, was that weird?”

“Yeah, it was weird,” Jared replied, “But why not, go ahead bro,” Jared slapped his gut and it let out a bigger gurgle.

Porter felt committed to the bit now, and leaned in close and put his ear to Jared’s gurgling belly. The stomach reverberated through him, making him shiver slightly. Porter considered the fascinating human stomach, and how it’s basically a big balloon inside us.

“I wonder how much more you could fit inside,” Porter said under his breath, rubbing Jared’s belly, “What else do you have in the kitchen? There’s bound to be something more in this house to satiate you.”

Jared took a deep breath, smelling Jared’s hair and neck, and realized his mouth was beginning to water again, Jared had an impulse himself and leaned forward a little to put his mouth close to Porter’s head, then shook himself out of it, “Food, in the kitchen, yeah, I have some grapes in the fridge I think.”

Porter got up, volunteering to grab the grapes, and glanced back to see Jared’s face looking after him with a hunger in his eyes. Porter thought to pluck some grapes off their vine, but then decided to just bring the entire container to Jared instead. He glanced over at Jared and saw him licking his lips, and was surprised to realize he could hear Jared’s stomach gurgles all the way in the kitchen.

“I’m curious, what’s the most you’ve eaten in one sitting?” Porter asks, as he hands the grapes to Jared, who slows down his intake by having just a few at a time, swallowing the clusters whole.

“One sitting? Hard to guage… probably that buffet…” Jared considered, swallowing another bunch of grapes with a slurping sound.

Porter watched as the lump in Jared’s throat traveled down and landed with a little plopping sound, barely audible over the gurgling. “How many plates did you eat at the buffet?”

“Plates?” Jared replied with a smirk, “Hmm if I had to count, maybe like 150?”

“150 Plates?!” Porter realized he was beginning to show a hard on through his pants, and shifted a bit to hide it. “Man you could probably swallow a whole cart of food and still have room to down a waiter!”

“How did you - what do you mean a waiter?” Jared looked puzzled.

Porter laughed, “Well, yeah. I hope this doesn’t sound like making fun of you, I think it’s cool how much capacity your stomach must have.” Porter realized his heart was racing, “Honestly you could eat me and barely noticed a dent in your gut.”

Jared looked at Porter with a serious expression that melted into a curious smile, “You - you want me to - eat you?” His mouths continued to water, and his heart began racing aswell.

Porter shivered, “No - like - I mean you could, but like - it’s a joke,” Porter replied with more unconvincing laughter. Porter wondered if this was some strange foreplay for sex. Jared wondered if Porter’s hesitation was foreplay for vore. To be safe, Jared shrugged it off.

“I’m just messing with you, bro,” he said, “I mean you do look pretty tasty, don’t get me wrong, but it’s chill, bro,” Jared said looking Porter up and down, rubbing his gut and thinking of the quickest way he could get him down into his gullet.

Porter took a deep breath, looking at Jared’s belly, mesmerized. “If you could, I mean like - do you really think you could eat me? Like swallow me whole?” Porter looked up to Jared’s hungry eyes. “That’s crazy, isn’t it?” Porter asked, beginning to hope it wasn’t crazy at all.

Without even realizing he was doing it, Porter got up and straddled Jared, putting both of his hands to the sides of Jared’s belly, rubbing it, and lifting his shirt up to get a better feel of it. It was a gorgeous belly. He wondered if he could fit in it.

Jared’s stomach gave a particularly loud rumble “Hey, I’m still hungry, those grapes didn’t hit the spot.”

Porter looked up at his eyes and spoke slowly “Well - maybe an extra 250 pounds - of man might do the trick.” He smiled with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

“Only one way to find out,” Jared replied, taking his shirt off, and helping Porter begin to strip as well. Porter took a deep breath to slow his anticipatory shaking, leaned down and kissed Jared’s belly. Jared gets up and motions for Porter to sit back on the couch.

Jared took Porter’s feet up and opened his mouth wide, leaning forward over them and swallowing hard. Porter shivered, his feet being tickled by Jared’s tongue, uvula and then tightly squeezed down his throat. Jared swallowed hard again, leaning forward and Porter felt his body lift off the couch momentarily as Jared pulled him deeper.

Jared and Porter shared a look of shock, surprised how easily Porter was sliding down Jared’s gullet. Jared’s shock turned to determination as he grabbed Porter’s sides and shoved them deeper into his mouth. Porter felt Jared’s saliva coating his legs as they were tightly squeezed down his throat. It was like getting deepthroated in the most literal sense.

“Wow you're mouth can really stretch!” Porter said, inbetween heavy breaths and sensual moaning. Jared replied with some mumbled exclamations, and his stomach replied with another large gurgle. The pressure of Jared’s throat let up on Porter’s toes and feet, as they plunged into a mixture of the dinner and grapes they ate before.

“I'm beginning - to think - you might be able - to actually - eat me” Porter breathed out in amixture of sensual elation and panic. His hands grabbed hold of Jared’s belly from the outside, almost subconsciously looking for an anchor to the world outside, as he came to the realization that he was still getting eaten. Jared’s stomach growled in protestation.

“Man, that was so hot - but maybe we should slow down. My legs are already feeling a bit cramped inside, I don't wanna puncture your stomach!” Porter said, his legs squirming around inside Jared’s belly and pushing against the stomach walls, as his hands feel them from the outside.

Jared’s eyes close in pure contentment that you might see on someone breaking their fast. He moans and gulps once again, pulling Porter’s torso into his throat. Porter tried to take a deep breath but couldn't expand his chest with the growing pressure of Jared’s throat. Instead he let’s out a little air in the form of a submissive moan. Jared moaned aswell in some sort of meditative trance, as his gut filled out over his knees. Porter tried jerking his hips and torso to pull Jared to his senses, but that only managed to pull him deeper into Jared’s body faster. 

Jared finally opened his eyes and stared at Porter’s eyes, just inches away from his. They locked eyes for what seemed to be hours. Jared contemplated what to do next, whether to try and let Porter go, or swallow him down like the tasty food he could be. Porter felt mild relief at the pause, but also a bit of disappointment. Even though the prospect of digestion was scary… it was also kind of enticing. Jared still stayed frozen in though, so Porter wriggled a little more.

Jared’s eyes softened almost in a puppy dog fashion, begging for Porter to give in. Porter glared seriously for a moment, then almost smirked with his eyebrows. Why not keep going?

Porter relaxed his body again, allowing gravity to pull him down further. Jared took the opportunity and stood up, letting Porter’s body slump down into his gut with gravity taking over completely. Jared tilted his head back easily, just like he was throwing back a bowl of fried rice. The rest of Porter’s body slid easily down his gullet and filled out his belly. Jared fell back onto the couch with a heavy flop, letting out a roaring belch as he pat his stomach.

“Ooof man, you were delicious, thanks for filling this gut up,” Jared said after a well-deserved deep breath. Porter curled up into a ball, and smelled the mix of aromatic foods, mixed with stomach acid.

“Man this is hot - really hot - but does this mean I’m gonna get - you know - digested?” Porter asked?

Jared stretched out and replied with a yawn “Weeellll,” the word echoed all around Porter, “You are food now…” Jared felt the bumps around his belly where Porter’s body was distending it. Porter felt the stomach walls constrict and relax around him, kneading his body like all the food before him.

“Wow… so you really did eat 150 plates at the buffet,” Porter began, “I thought that was just hyperbole.

“Don’t forget the waiter!” Jared replied.

“Wait, you’ve eaten guys before?”

“Only like two times,” Jared began, “That guy at the buffet caught me in a moment of pure carnal hunger,” Jared continued, reminicing thoughtfully on the most full belly he had ever had, “And well - you know that guy who introduced us? That man covered himself in bean dip and literally asked me to devour him.”

“Wow… that’s kinda hot,” Porter replied.

“I know right? And now you, so that makes three. Willing food is the best. Wish I could eat you over again.” Jared enjoyed the thought of eating Porter again, along with ice cream, a tray of more rice, and began to consider driving to a buffet again and going for round two.

“Well if you let me out… I think I could be persuaded to get back in another time…” Porter said.

“Really?” Jared said curiously.

“Maybe next time, you could just put me in a tub of fried rice instead of eating one after the other…”

“I’m liking your creativity… But for now let’s just enjoy this moment. Let me know when my stomach acid becomes too much for you.”

“Will do,” Porter replied… excited for the prospect of having time to process getting eaten, and make it an even better experience.

[diodellet]

*runs in after seeing your valentine's event*

Hi, @viperwhispered from my main here. Naturally I gotta ask for Jamil, there's a few prompts there I'd like to see but let's go with number 2.

I'm okay with whatever rating you think makes sense.

She/her female reader who has long hair, wears glasses, often wears dresses, and is generally quite level / calm. And I suppose for drabble length that's quite enough detail already (basically uhh I may be slightly self-inserting here).

Hope you have fun with the requests, and happy Valentine's!

💌Jamil Viper + Prompt #2 (Their thumb stroking the back of your knuckles)

Nothing really could overtake Jamil’s habit for discretion as Kalim’s personal attendant. Add your (godsend of a) reserved nature to the mix, and you can’t really blame him for feeling the slightest bit regretful at the end of your date. 

Though that all seemed to change when night fell.

Your pace was slow as you walked back to your dorm. He had no doubt that your legs were sore from walking the whole day, but you would probably wave off his concern if he brought it up. 

“...Are you cold?” 

“A little bit, but we’re almost home so…” Case in point. “...oh.” Your free hand smooths itself against the skirt of your dress, a minute sign of being flustered.

Just for once, maybe being upfront was the better choice. 

“Make sure to bring a jacket next time.”

“I will, I just didn’t think we’d be out the whole day.” A short yawn leaves your throat. Your shoulder lightly knocks against his. 

So he savors the feeling of your hand in his, the fact that he won’t have to hide even a subtle display of affection. His thumb strokes across the back of your hand, willing whatever meager amount of warmth he could into your skin.

All you have for company is the faint glow of the stars, the crunch of grass under your shoes, and the calm dark of night.

Eventually, the lights of the Ramshackle Dormitory come into view. The worn-out bulb casts a yellow glow over the shabby porch, wood creaking as you make your way to the door.

In two steps, the day would end—and there’s something deeply unfair about how humans aren’t designed to function for all twenty-four hours—which meant returning to the status quo that dictated most of his life once again.

…On second thought, Jamil realizes he can’t really end the day on that note.

Before you can say your goodbyes, his hand closes around your elbow, tugging you closer to him. Your house keys fall to the ground with a clatter. Surprise flickers over your expression for a second, before you melt into the sudden kiss. The press of your glasses against Jamil's cheek will leave a mark, but that doesn’t stop him from drawing it out.

For just one more second, another minute or two, he’ll allow himself to be selfish for just a little bit longer.

a/n: AAA HAPPY VALENTINES TO U TOO NER!!! honestly this prompt is so jamil-coded i didnt realize it until after seeing ur req asldjfsldf this was supes fun to write i hope u enjoyed reading this 🤧💕💕

#dellet-writings #dellet-asks #viperwhispered #jamil viper x reader #fem!reader #twst #twst x reader #jamil viper #twisted wonderland x reader

[bomberqueen17]

switchplate covers update/tutorial

So the thing to keep in mind with this is that we gotta see how well the wear. A switchplate cover is a pretty high-traffic thing, and subject to a lot of wear. If these get too dingy I'm absolutely going to have to go buy fancy ceramic ones or something.

But. That said. Here is my final result, and below the cut is how I did this, partly because I want to remember how it worked LOL.

[Image description: A combo lightswitch/outlet with a black three-prong plug plugged into it, set into a white subway tile wall with a wooden breadboard leaned against it. The plate cover is painted with a mottled effect to look like a turquoise gemstone, complete with inset glitter to mimic the pyrite inclusions found in some raw turquoise.]

A better view of the glitter:

[Image description: Another turquoise-painted outlet faceplate on the background of a rumpled white dropcloth, my fingers visible tilting it toward the light so the flake glitter catches the light from the window.]

So I searched up for tutorials and found a few, each of which was like "can't believe nobody else has done this"; I'm sharing the most helpful one here. What was thee very most helpful thing, though, was the writer's pointing out that many different configurations of turquoise exist, so you can just pick a reference image and build off that. I did not in the end come very close to my reference, but decided instead to make it look sick as hell. LOL. I was just having too much fun doing whatever I wanted. So these are not super realistic! But then you wouldn't... make an outlet faceplate out of real turquoise, so I felt like I wasn't fooling anyone. Anyway--

How To Paint Faux Turquoise.

So the first thing I did was find some very fine-grit sandpaper (I think I got 320? I found a mostly used-up sheet of it in the basement and just used the unused edge from where it had been fastened around a block, LOL) and went over the whole front surface of each plate I was going to paint, and then I washed them with dishsoap and hot water and dried them with a dish towel, because I figured finger grease, hand dirt, and sanding dust would keep the paint from sticking. I started with white plastic ones, the kind you get for up to a dollar at the hardware store.

Then I got a plastic container lid, put dollops of various of my paint samples in it, dug out the craft paints I got cleaning out Auntie's basement and the sole tube of acrylics (Mars black) I could still find from the last time I did any painting, and went to town. The first couple, I did the pale shades and let them dry and came back to add the darker marbling. But then I was like, these are latex/acrylic, you don't have to build them in layers? So I just did the rest of them with all the shading in more or less one pass.

Acrylic art paint and latex housepaint are both water-based, so there's no conflict with using them intermingled. I've combined them before, I used to do a lot of sign painting and it works fine. Housepaint's runnier, idk. Don't mix oils and latex, is the thing to keep in mind; they just don't stick to each other real well.

I went to the art supply store to get some water-based varnish, because all i had was polyurethane and that's oil-based. It'd probably work as a topcoat but I was worried and the internet's advice conflicted. I wanted to go get better glitter anyway, so I did. I happen to live near Hyatt's All Things Creative, so I take every excuse I can get to go there.

I bought some sick-ass glitter (over in the resin pouring section, hell yes), and puzzled thru the various offerings. (@sassaffrassa's advice proved invaluable on this thank u.) I got just-- "Gloss varnish acrylic medium", the Hyatt's brand, for four dollars and sixty-nine (nice) cents, and then because I was feeling spendy, I also bought Krylon spray-on glossy varnish. Belt and suspenders, y'know? Also to make the brush strokes less obvious.

The critical thing, though, about the gloss varnish, is that it says right on the bottle that you can either incorporate it into the paint as a medium to enhance the sheen, OR brush it over the finished work as a protective coating. Dries absolutely clear. So I knew, THIS is how I'm attaching the glitter. I'd been thinking like, mod podge? elmer's glue? mix it into the paint? No.

[image description: the gloss varnish bottle. It is this product. The relevant text says "can be used either as a medium to enhance the sheen levels of acrylic paint or as an over-varnish on finished artwork to provide a non-tacky, protective gloss coating".]

So I carefully got open the little bottle of glitter (no sneezing! it was "white gold flake" style and cost eight bucks for like half a gram. to my knowledge it's not actually made of gold but it was priced like it was) and painted little fine patches of gloss varnish onto the spots I wanted glittered, and then used tweezers to apply glitter just in those spots, and mooshed them around with the little varnish-covered brush until they stuck where I wanted them. (I put them on the darkest bits of the veining, because that was what my source image looked like, mostly. I wanted to be really liberal but then I thought, no, a little pop of glitter is more exciting actually. Still not sure, but it does look good so. They say measure that shit with your heart but I went light because I figured I could add more later, and then I didn't.)

Then I came back at the end and painted more gloss varnish just over the glitter, just to make sure it was all really stuck down and wouldn't flake off with wear.

Let that dry for a couple hours, then used a larger brush to spread gloss varnish as evenly as possible over the entirety of each plate. It did leave visible brush strokes, which I didn't mind. The art shop guy suggested using a really soft brush to minimize that, and I was like "yah sure ok" but then, well, I didn't, I just used the brush I had.)

But then I let that dry overnight, and in the morning I put the plates all in my giant overspray cardboard box, and gave them each a liberal coating of the spray varnish. (Yes of course I have a giant cardboard box I keep in my basement to spray paint things in. I know it says use in a well-ventilated space but what I do, see, is I do that and then I leave the room, which is almost as good. LOL it's 24F and snowing I'm not doing it outside.)

That bottle says two hours until handling on it, so I left it two hours, and then I put up the plates that were in spots where the painting was done or wasn't happening, hence my example image being against a tiled wall.

The screwdriver immediately scratched the first one a little bit, but not super obviously. But I kind of would expect a screwdriver to scratch just about anything, so that doesn't mean much.

I won't guarantee how well these'll hold up but if you were interested in doing something like that, there's how it worked. (Hi, future me, you're welcome for writing it down lol.)

I'm sort of sorry for no more process pictures but honestly most of it was following whimsy and doing what I felt like and kind of drawing on what I hadn't realized was a lot lot lot of hours of past paint-handling in my life, so pictures wouldn't help anyone else recreate this. But it did remind me that I love to paint and should do that more. So, I'll try, I guess.

#about the author #kitchen remodel #crafting sorta

[pansear-doodles]

I gotta get this out of my chest (and i might get hate for this but whatever)

I feel like the rain world fandom as a whole is painted in a one-sided lens- thats not true because if you really take a step back and look at the entire picture of it all there are circles and subcircles of certain populations who are into specific parts of the game and its much more nuanced than what most people complain about.

You have of course people who care about the gameplay. Not all of them are into lore stuff but when it comes to fandom stuff they tend to be mixed. They are the closest to being in line with canon. They are a mostly neutral party but they have their own can of worms to feed when it comes to new players, but I'm not here to talk about that relatively speaking.

You have people who enjoy the ideas of the characters and create transformative stuff out of it. This is where most circles of fanon, headcanons and aus reside, the """fandomification""" side of rain world if you will. This is relatively new in the fandom and most new fans(post dp) reside here, and because of that factor they're always given the most flak and attention by veterans who reside in other circles. (Even though these circles can coexist)

Many veterans (though not all of them are veterans) reside in circles that are described as the more canonical and spiritual side- because of the focus of the game. They tend to be more focused on the consistency for what the game offers- making theories and discussing certain aspects and making content that most consider isnt """fandomification""" or woobifying/blorbo-ing characters. Of course, this circle has subcircles of their own

I'm not trying to antagonize people who say that they miss when the fandom was in a relatively calmer and ""non-fandomy"" state. What bothers me is that the newer fans and the ones who enjoy focusing on "the idea of the characters" and talk about it more than the spiritual complex side of the game, are the ones being antagonized usually by these circles. I have not once seen a headcanony person complain about people talking about canon (unless you count me, an individual who is always subject to these discourses albeit unwillingly but whatever)

There is an underlying reality that as a fandom grows larger, so would these circles and some would birth new subcircles (and one of which is rw shipping, which is always the subject of antagonization in fandom discourse. Funnily enough, not within the shipping subcommunity but by people who dislike and or against shipping, especially with slugcats- yes i still cant believe the shipping community is one of the most peaceful communities in all of ship communities ever and that's very telling).

Then there are the subcircles that have always existed. There are people who care more about the slugcats more than the iterators. There are people who care about the iterators more than the slugcats. There are people who care about creating oc content rather than canon content. It goes on.

Im not saying that if you dislike how rivulet for example is often portrayed as "the adhd energetic roundhouse of wawa" that you are invalid. You absolutely have the right to dislike certain aspects the fandom has.

What I don't like is that some of these circles are antagonized and treated as if they were headless chickens pushing the affinity for liking the characters in their own ways. I don't like that they often assume that we can't like or be engaged with canon and discussions surrounding the spiritual and technical aspects of the game because we were more fond of something else. I really don't like that these types of fans are seen as parasites and that they're portrayed as people who are out to ruin the fandom when in reality they're there to enjoy it in their own way. I dont like that we are being assumed that we hate rain world, the game itself.

We have our very own reasons and our very own ways to enjoy this special piece of media. You have the ability to curate your experiences in the fandom- you have the ability to create your own circles and come with your own ideas for how you feel about the game. The fandom is an entire ecosystem composed of unique individuals and fans with their own unique individual takes. That's really not that hard to fathom.

But nah clearly gay slugcat talk and "edgy aus" will turn the rain world fandom into that similar to undertale and steven universe's fandom.

#so yeah please leave us alone holy shit #this rant sounds aggressive and its imperfect but goddamnit do i have to tap the sign again #its only an issue if you make it out to be an issue #i apologize #thoughts #long #also its inevitable that memes will repeat but what can you do this happens for every single fucking thing ever

[billthedrake]

GOALS (PART TWO)

Story idea by and collaboration with top son Turner ([email protected]).

[AUSTIN]

It was a shitty week.

It all started bright and early Monday morning. I had to get back to the suburbs for work, and Scott had to get into the office. I don't know exactly what I expected but Scott was definitely quiet and moody as we quickly got ready. There was no kiss goodbye, no hug even. Just a "see you at the gym" comment from him.

Only I didn't see him at the gym, not Tuesday. He'd sent me a text saying work stuff had come up and he'd have to reschedule. In itself, that wasn't a big deal. Scott Delahunt had prioritized the gym over the last year and a half, but he also had a demanding, important job. This wasn't the first time he couldn't make it.

But instead of his normal apologetic tone at our next meeting, the man was reserved.

"Everything OK?" I asked as I put on some more weights on the bench. At least Scott was channeling whatever moodiness he had into the lifts... he was on fire that day, actually. I wasn't sure what kind of conversation I was expecting in the gym. But his standoffishness was driving me crazy.

"Yeah," he said, looking at me with slightly wounded eyes. I could tell he wasn't mad at me, but he was really upset about the sex. "Just been busy at work is all."

I'd have to leave it at that. "Well, you're looking really strong in here today."

"Thanks," he muttered. Then got back on the bench for another set. All business.

The kicker for the week was that my dad came to visit Friday. Not me specifically, but he and my stepmom Janet were in Nashville for a weekend on the town. So I went to meet them for dinner. Lots of small talk, lots of Dad's wisecracks about Nashville being "sin city," and the usual blustery questions about when I was gonna get a serious girlfriend.

I answered as well as I could, but Dad wouldn't let up. "For Chrissake Austin, you're 24."

My stepmom actually came to the rescue. "For goodness sake, Frank, leave the poor boy alone."

I'd held off on any other Friday plans, but Dad and Janet clearly wanted to hit the country bars on their own. As we left the restaurant, Dad stretched out his hand for a handshake. "Good to see you, son." I knew I wouldn't see him again until Christmas.

The whole ride home I was mad at him. Then I was mad at myself for letting him get to me. What did I expect? There's that saying about insanity and expecting different results.

I was mopey when I got home. I cracked open a beer, which I rarely do at home. I wondered why I didn't have the guts to tell Dad that I'm gay. I'd spent my college years very much in the closet and enjoying secret sex with my professor. I loved playing that role for him, the "straight" jock who'd nail his ass at least twice a week.

Now that I'd moved back to Brentwood, I decided I wouldn't necessarily hide the gay thing but I wouldn't advertise it either. I'm not sure what made me be forthcoming with Scott Delahunt. Maybe I felt I could trust him. Maybe unconsciously I wanted something to happen. I was glad it did, only there was a good chance I'd lost him as a client and more importantly as a friend. Fuck... business and pleasure definitely shouldn't mix.

I picked up my phone. It wasn't too late, and I knew I had to call. Jason was my best friend at UT, a teammate who I felt like I could share anything with. Except one thing...

"Austin!" came his response as he answered, seeing my name on the caller ID. "What's up, man?" We called each other all the time, but not usually at this hour.

"Hi man... listen... I know it's out of the blue to ring you up, but I had something I gotta tell ya."

"Everything OK, Aust'?"

"Yeah, I'm OK. I just... well, I wanted to let you know that I'm gay, Jason," I blurted out.

There was silence on the other end. Then: "For real?"

My heart pounded. Here was my best bud in the whole world and he still was even after college and me moving to Nashville and him to Atlanta. And I had no idea how he'd take it. He was a typical jock, I guess, and very much a pussy hunter. "For real. Sorry I didn't have the guts to tell you before."

"You know you're my brother, man," he said. "Right?"

I let out a sigh. "Yeah, bro. Thanks."

I could sense an awkward pause on the other end. "Listen, bro... I hate to cut the conversation short, but I'm actually on a date right now."

"Oh fuck!" I blurted. "Sorry, man." I'd been so absorbed in my own drama.

He chuckled. "It's all good," he said. "But we'll catch up this weekend, OK?"

"All right. Sorry again, Jase. Catch ya later.

That conversation was what I needed. I don't know… it cleared the air some. The next morning I decided I needed some relief for my morning wood. As I made my coffee, I fired up one of the apps to see what was on there.

I got a message. "Hi man. You really discreet?"

I typed back. "I always am."

I waited a sec then got another message. "Well, you're really hot."

"Thanks," I replied.

"I bet you get a lot of guys telling you that."

"My fair share," I admitted.

"OK if I share my pics?" His profile was pretty minimal, which itself wasn't a bad thing. Married or unavailable men didn't usually put much on their profiles, so you never knew if you were getting a troll or a stud.

"Yeah, sure," I said. I made it clear it was noncommittal.

He showed me his pictures. He wasn't Scott Delahunt hot, but I decided not to be picky. I was horny and in the mood to get off. The man seemed like a regular suburban guy in his late 40s.

"Looks good," I wrote.

"I don't bottom, but I'd love to suck your dick this morning," he wrote.

It was to the point. I often like to chat a good bit with guys, since it helps me suss out if they're on the level and figure out if there's sexual compatibility. Also for me sex is in large part a mental thing, and I love the build up before the act.

That said, I know it's not the etiquette to be too chatty on the apps, and this dude seemed to have a very limited time. He gave off that lying to a wife about making a Home Depot run kind of vibe. I told him to come over.

When he showed up I was a little thrown off guard that he didn't look exactly like his pictures. He had a goatee and was much grayer than his photo. That itself was actually a turn on, but he was also overweight... not fat, but girthy in his jeans and T-shirt.

"Dang, dude, you're hot," he said as he stepped in. At least his voice was deep and masculine. Then seeing my reaction, he prompted. "Is this gonna work man?"

I could tell he was excited for this, and I relented. "As long as you know how to suck dick," I blustered as I pulled down my shorts and gripped my dick to prime the pump. I hadn't fully lost my erection and was still feeling worked up.

I watched his big body scramble down and get down to service me. This wasn't Married Guy's first cock. He explored me with his tongue for just enough to work me up, then he took me into his mouth. It was a skilled, no-nonsense blow job. Two minutes tops. If that. I looked down and watched that silver-haired head bob up and down. I conjured up a fantasy about my high school math teacher. Then it happened. I came. It felt great.

Married Guy suckled me and gave a final soft kiss to the head as he pulled off. "Guess you needed that, huh, buddy?" he chuckled. I could tell he was proud he'd gotten me off so quickly.

"Pretty much," I said as I reached down to pull up my shorts.

He stood up and rearranged the boner in his jeans. "Well hit me up again if you need that bad boy taken care of," he said. He was clearly thrilled at playing with a man on the side. "Can't always get away from the Mrs. but it was worth it today."

"Will do," I said. My demeanor was friendly enough but maybe giving that frosty time-to-go signal. I was a little relieved when he left.

I had gotten my rocks off and that was nice, but I felt the psychological part hadn't been that rewarding.

But it was like the heavens were going to reward me for the so-so sex and for my unrequited feelings for Scott. My buddy Rick asked me if I wanted to catch the season opener for the Predators at a downtown sports bar. I'm not a big hockey fan, but the Predators had come off a great season and there was a buzz in the city around the team. Scott had actually canceled his Friday morning session at the gym, so I'd have an extra hour before I had to be at work that next morning.

Rick was a fellow trainer and a couple of his college friends came with us. I was the odd man out not really following the game but it was fun just inhabiting the hightop of that crowded bar and cheering each goal against the Rangers.

But eventually my eye was drawn to a table of businessmen at the table next to us. Three suit and tie guys, though their jackets were on their chairs and their ties long gone from the day at work or some convention. Given their reaction to the game, they were New Yorkers, or at least Rangers fans.

My attention was drawn to the oldest of the bunch. A sturdy built guy in a regular business man kind of way. Tan lingering from his late summer vacation, brown eyes and thinning silver hair cut almost military short, he had a kind of Jersey/Long Island daddy look that appealed to me. Best of all, his pecs filled out a pale blue dress shirt and his ass looked great in his gray trousers.

Maybe I was looking over too much because Silver Daddy caught me and gave a knowing smile. Not a flirty smile, but a “yeah, I know you're checking me out” smile. I figure straight dudes in New York are used to getting attention from gay guys all the time.

I got another pint just as the third period started. Seemed like Silver Daddy was working on another beer, too. I got the feeling they'd started early, because their booming voices just kept getting louder.

I played it cool, not so much hiding my interest from the man but rather not trying to be obvious around my buddies. But Silver Daddy started slyly looking back to me. The first time he did gave me a boner under the table, and I was half hard for the rest of the game. Playing cat and mouse with our surreptitious eye contact.

My friends were in a great mood when the game was over, since the Predators won. They tried to convince me to hit one of the more partying country bars on Broadway but I told them I had an early morning and said I'd just hang out at the sports bar and finish my beer.

I don't know if I expected anything to happen. But when I watched Silver Daddy go to the bar to order another round, I took my chance and stepped up next to him, to order my own drink.

He flashed me a drunken smile. "Your friends left you," he said. Not quite a slur but he was definitely drunk.

"Yeah," I said. "Fraid so." I replied in a way that suggested I wasn't at all upset by that turn of events.

"Let me get ya a drink," he said. His accent was New York all right.

I nodded. "Sure." I told him what I was having.

Just then one of guys came up and clapped Silver Daddy's shoulder. "Listen, Bob, we're actually gonna call it a night. See you tomorrow."

The man didn't miss a beat. "Yeah, sure, Greg. I might play hooky and skip the first session," Silver Daddy bellowed.

"I hear ya. I might be in the same boat tomorrow. Why the fuck did I let Connors convince me to do shots? I'm not fucking 22," he growled.

"Remember... water and aspirin before bed." Silver Daddy said. I couldn't tell if it was a joke or real advice.

The man shook his head. "All right... go easy, man." He clapped Bob's shoulder and then walked off.

"Guess it's just you and me," he smirked.

"Guess so," I said. God, I hadn't really had a situation like this before, but it was fun.

He leaned in, a naughty look on his face. "My hotel is nearby. Feel like skipping the beers?"

"Yeah," I said. I was starting to get hard again, but hopefully my boner wouldn't show too much. Up close this man was more solid than he looked from the distance even.

He winked and patted my shoulder. "Let me pay the tab and I'll get my jacket."

He had a swagger as we left the bar and walked down the street. I kept looking over at him. About 6'1" with very upright posture, almost chest puffing out. He had a prominent nose and forehead, which stuck out more from the receding and thinning hair. If he wasn't so clearly a businessman, I might have placed him as a coach type. I placed him in his mid 50s, but he'd taken good care of himself.

"I'm Austin, by the way," I said, realizing we hadn't even introduced ourselves.

"Bob," he replied in turn.

"You in town for business?" I asked. He could have been local, but from his talk at the bar I gathered not.

He looked over at me. "You got it," he blustered. The man had one volume for speaking it seemed. "E-Commerce Convention." He flashed a grin at me. "This was the last thing I expected to happen tonight, I'll tell you."

I smiled back. "Me either," I admitted.

He chuckled. "You do this often?"

"Not enough."

"I hear ya," he said. I could tell he had his hands in his trouser pockets to keep his own boner from being obvious. That thrilled me. "But I figure what happens in Nashville stays in Nashville, right?" The guy liked to talk. "Got a girlfriend or anything?"

I was a little nervous having this conversation so openly on the street, but no one was around to listen or care. I shook my head. "I stick with guys," I replied.

That seemed to surprise him. "Yeah, man? You should come up to New York... give those muscle gays some competition."

This was a man of surprises, but I was happy to go along for the ride. "Is that what you're into?" I asked.

This was the first and only time I saw a flicker of embarrassment on his handsome, middle-aged face. "When I'm in the mood to play that way... yeah, that flicks my switch."

"Just to be clear," I put it out there. "I don't bottom."

He chuckled some as if he found my top assertiveness cute. "All right, stud... I'm sure we can have some fun."

I felt a little bad that this was the hotel Scott and I had stayed in. Different floor, different room, but same look and furnishings... even the view out the window was the same. But Bob was night and day different from Scott. I didn't know his story but he clearly had experience with men.

"Fuck, you're hot," he growled as the room door clicked. Our bodies met, then we kissed. I loved his energy and his meaty bulk and that suit. It was impetuous and horny, the way we fueled each other's sexual excitement. We ground our crotches into one another and made out in a drunken sloppy kiss.

And already this Silver Daddy was reaching down to fumble with my jeans, undoing them and reaching in to grip my boner. "Nice one," he growled then stepped back to undo his own belt. Maybe I normally like being top dog, but I had to admit Bob had a nice tool. Long as mine and thicker. It fell out, heavy and then jerked up to a standing position.

"You suck a guy?" he asked.

"Yeah, sometimes," I replied. I wanted to get a taste. I crouched down and felt that soft wool fabric of his suit then leaned forward. His prick tasted salty and the tip was dewey with precum. I gave him a quick couple of licks then started taking him into my mouth

"Fuck yeah, man." God, I hoped the room had some soundproofing.

I wasn't a natural or skilled cocksucker, but I settled in to do right by him. Bobbing up and down on his thick tool. Not going deep, because that girth was a lot for me. But I settled into a good rhythm on about 3 and a half inches of his stalk. The brash guy was surprisingly quiet as I fellated him, standing with his legs apart and running his fingers through my hair.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but he didn't seem in a rush to get off. After a couple of minutes I pulled back and got one more look of his meaty erection before looking up.

"My turn." It half question, half statement.

I stood up and kicked off my sneakers. Bob stepped back and removed his suit jacket, hardon still spit wet and sticking out of his fly. He gave me another wink, then turned to take off the rest of his clothes.

I followed suit and admired the view as I watched this middle-aged stud get onto the bed. He had some padding but some strong muscle, a classic ex-jock build. Blocky pecs, big arms, and a general thickness. He wasn't all that hairy, but his dusting of chest and stomach hair was also graying and I found that hot. There was just some dirty blond in his wiry pubes around that tubesteak.

I climbed on top of him, meeting him in another kiss and feeling our body contact. Bob got into it, which got me into it. I don't know if he was Scott Delahunt perfect, but in his own way this business guy was hotter. He humped up into me as we made out and his hands were on me.

"Jesus," he grunted, the loud voice returning. "You're a muscle dude all right," he growled.

I grinned down on him. I about told him I was a personal trainer, but figured that wasn't important.

"Figures you'd be a top," he said. Then, "Well, I have a couple condoms in my bag if you wanna get in me."

"Fuck yes," I said, which made Bob laugh. Even with a rubber, I knew I'd enjoy this.

"Just let me sit on it first," he said. "It's been a while."

I agreed and got off him so he could go fetch the rubbers and lube. He hadn't blown me yet, but that was OK. I was rock hard as I lay back against the headboard, while Bob applied some lube to my stalk, then rolled down a condom. He then lubed that.

His dick was rock hard and he had a lusty look on his face as he straddled me. I watched his chest muscle flex some as he reached down and back to guide my dick into place. His eyes seemed to drink up the sight of my body beneath him. "God, you remind me of a couple of fellas on my son's hockey team."

Good fuck, he was gonna push my buttons big time. I ran my hands along his meaty thighs. "You ever do anything with them?" I asked, my voice cracking in lust.

He smiled. "One of them, yeah...."

And like that he pushed back. I felt the snugness and then I entered his hot, right rectum. The man let out a hiss and paused, then descended down some. "You're big," he smiled, then with a determined look pushed all the way down. "OH FUCK!" he growled. I was getting into his vocal nature. But equally I was enjoying feeling up his more mature muscle. He was the kind of man who'd be hot to fuck well into his 60s, and that idea excited me perversely.

It took some restraint not to thrust into him right away, but my prick was rigid and throbbing inside him, having the mental side of the fuck make up for the lack of physical stimulation to my dick.

But it didn't take him long to relax. And with a steady motion, he rose up and fell down into my lap. Fucking himself on me. I loved watching him. His whole body getting into it as he stroked his cock and rode me. This man loved sex, and had no hangups about bottoming for me.

It was like he was reading my mind. "You know how to bring out my naughty side, stud," he said.

I now gave small thrusts up into him, to meet his bouncing. "Like with that hockey player?" I ventured.

He grinned. "Austin... talk about naughty... Mark is my best friend's son."

"Fuck!" I groaned.

"That shit turn you on?" he laughed.

I nodded. "Yeah it does."

He rode me a little faster, though his stroke on his cock kept the same pace. "Mark's fucked me a couple dozen times," he admitted. Maybe he was making it up as sex talk to work me up, but I think he was telling the truth.

I couldn't help it. I gripped his hips and took charge of the fuck, pushing up into his guts with steady hard strokes.

"That's it, stud," Bob growled. "Go for it." He reached down and felt up my chest and arms. I didn't know if I was a replacement for some college-aged hockey player, but it was OK if I was. Then he asked, "Wanna switch positions?"

He didn't wait for an answer but simply rose off me and plopped down next to me. Already he was lifting his legs up, giving me room to scoot between them. He was a hunk and a half, not magazine perfect but hotter for it. I placed his calves on my shoulders and pressed forth.

"I want you to cum," I urged as I began fucking him. My voice urgent even if I knew I wasn't going to cum with the rubber. My hips worked him in strong, physical shoves.

"Yeah," he hissed. Even if the alcohol and maybe his age had kept his trigger at bay, he was getting into it now. His eyes wildly on me and his fist working that thick tool faster. "Harder, stud!" he yelled.

I went for it. Hard and fast. His face went red and he nodded excited.

"Yeah... yeah... oh shit!"

His cum flew out with a crazy suddenness. He wasn't a big cummer but two heavy ropes flew out onto that meaty chest before his sperm oozed out in dribbles.

I pulled out and stripped off the condom. It wouldn't take me long to cum now, at all.

But Bob had different ideas. "Bring it up here," he urged.

I hadn't ever shot on a guy's face, but the idea seemed hot as hell. I scooted up and fisted my tool an inch away from his handsome business daddy mug. But he batted my hand away and leaned forward.

I was gonna get my blowjob after all. Bob didn't seem bothered by the lube and the latex taste as he sucked me in and bobbed.

About five bobs and I blasted hard. The man moaned excitedly as I filled his craw with my fresh sperm. I pulled out so I could see some spray on his chin. I felt I deserved that.

I was still dribbling in aftershocks even as I sat on the bed next to him.

He had come down from his orgasm and looked up at me with a smile. "Good for you, I take it?"

I nodded. "More than good," I replied. "I needed a lay like that."

"You caught me in the right mood," he said.

"Drunk?" I teased.

He laughed. "That helps," he said. "Listen, no pressure... but I'm in town for another day, if you wanna hook up again."

"It would be hard to say no," I said.

"Is that a no?" he asked, unsure what I meant.

"That's a yes," I clarified.

He ran his hand up my leg and then nudged his fingers against my genitals, which twitched at the touch. "I just want to take advantage of my free time away, you know?" He looked up from my cock to my face. "You can sleep here if you want."

"I'd have to get up early," I warned him. Even with Scott's cancelled session, I had to be at the gym by 7:30.

"I'll set the alarm... you can get up when you like," he said. He patted my leg once more and got up to go to the bathroom. He pissed and washed off some, I gathered, but when the door opened and he strutted back, naked, his body showing off the tan line from that beach vacation. he had a glass of water and two aspirin, which he popped in his mouth.

I got up to piss myself and as he watched me pass him, he added, "yeah, you'd give those New York guys a run for the money, all right."

[SCOTT]

"Where's your head, Delahunt?" Rich Kennedy asked after my drive on the 14th hole went wide. Way wide. "That's the third lousy shot today."

"Motherfuck!" I hissed. I was normally a good golfer, and I didn't take a bad day well.

"Oh Scotty's been in a pissy mood for weeks," Dave Feldman chimed in. I was the last of our foursome to tee off, and I think the fellas knew I was gonna slow down our group.

The fourth guy, Ed wisecracked as he looked at his phone. "He's probably checked his retirement account. Another shit day on the market fellas."

That seemed to ease the tension some and as we went on down the fairway, the conversation turned to investments and whether it was time to change the allocation for our nest eggs. It was the kind of conversation we had a lot.

I had to admit Dave was right. I had been in a bad mood. Ever since that night with Austin. I tried to get him out of my head but that attempt was making me miserable. The one exception was with Kelly. Maybe I was overcompensating but my guilt at cheating on her put me into charm mode with my wife. We'd even had sex a few times lately, which was a nice change and a welcome reminder that my heterosexuality wasn't gone.

Thing was, my bisexuality wasn't either. Sex with Austin had been amazing. I'd still throw hard during the middle of the day, almost every day, thinking back on it. I don't know, something about the combination of hardness and softness, of Austin's innocent charm and his jock masculinity, really turned me on. It was a revelation to me.

I knew I was playing with fire, even sticking with Austin as my trainer. But I kept my distance. I felt my improved physique was the best change of my life lately. I didn't want to stop that.

Our Friday training sessions were going as normal. Me focusing on a solid lower body workout and giving it 110 percent. We made some small talk, but kept it light. But for three weeks I'd avoided any talk of the Titans. Today I brought up the football talk. Austin seemed to relax and get into his fantasy team for the week and his plan to watch the game with some of his trainer buddies. I wondered if any of those guys knew Austin was into guys, but I figured younger people aren't as judgmental as people of my generation.

Whereas my Tuesday or Wednesday sessions were late afternoon, I tended to meet Austin first thing in the morning, so I could get a round of golf in for the afternoon if the weather allowed.

I'd showered and dressed in my suit for work when I saw Austin waiting outside the locker room. He had an envelope in his hand and a nervous look on his face.

"I didn't overpay you, did I?" I asked. "I'm hoping to make up that session I missed..."

He shook his head. "No... open it later," he said. "OK?"

"Yeah sure," I said. He gave me a sad nod and went back to a client who was stretching between sets.

I had a pit of my stomach feel for what was in the envelope. Or at least a ball park idea. As I got into my BMW, I tossed my gym bag on the front seat and nervously opened the letter. The writing was in pen in what I'd describe as a neat scrawl.

"Dear Scott,

Forgive my handwriting. And forgive my writing what I don't have the guts to tell you face to face.

I want to apologize to you. I crossed a line with you, and I got you to do something you didn't feel comfortable with. I almost expected you to find another trainer, and I wouldn't blame you if you did.

But I miss our friendship. Maybe that's not respecting a professional line, too, but I consider you a friend first and foremost. We can forget what happened if it would help.

There's some other sappy stuff I wrote but I tore those letters up. This is enough.

your trainer,

Austin"

My heart sank. I thought I'd be strong enough to resist this special young man. But I was pulling out my phone for a quick text. "Read your letter. You have any time to meet this afternoon? In private."

He was the kind of trainer to be focused on his clients, so it wasn't until I got to the office that I saw the text that awaited me. "I have a window between noon and 4." I typed back to see if 12:30 would work. I had a 2PM tee time. He responded back with his address and a question mark. I said yes.

The morning would have felt like torture had my calendar not been full. I'd have to catch up on work tomorrow morning, but it was one of those beautiful October days that was perfect golfing weather, and I wanted to take advantage of it.

I had to text Austin I was running late, but traffic was OK. He was there, still in his work attired of zip up and trim-cut sweats. God, he looked like a million bucks. Cute yet masculine, his dimples forming as he gave a nervous smile.

"Hey," he said as he ushered me in.

I looked around. It felt like a bachelor's apartment. Clean and basic, not a lot of decoration. "Nice place," I said.

"Thanks," he said. "Have a seat," he gestured to the couch.

I sat down, facing him. The ball was in my court. "I know I've been standoffish lately," he started. "Austin... I can't hurt my family."

The younger man grimaced. "I know... I don't want you to, Scott. Seriously."

I felt a little relieved. This was unchartered territory for me. "I wasn't going to tell you... but I enjoyed what we did... a lot."

His eyes perked up. "For real?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "Maybe a little too much."

"Did that freak you out?" he asked. Concerned.

I shook my head. "Not in itself. More about the stepping out on Kelly part. And what it meant for my marriage."

"Oh," he said.

"Even if things haven't been great with Kelly lately, I'm not going to leave her," I said.

I could read in Austin's quietness he was nervous of saying the wrong thing. But he finally spoke up. “If you wanna fool around, Scott, I’m really discreet, I promise.”

I blushed. “Come on, Austin,” I pleaded. I very much liked the idea of what he was suggesting, and maybe that’s why I was pissed at him for suggesting it.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just had to try.”

“Sorry, Austin,” I said softly. I felt so many mixed emotions then. And yeah, I wanted him again. Wanted to feel more what sex was like with this stud. Instead, I stood up. “I better go,” I said.

He nodded. He stood up and walked me to the door. “Let me know if you’d like help finding another trainer,” he said with resignation.

I knew he was giving me an out. For some reason I couldn’t bring myself to take it. “I don’t want another trainer, Austin,” I said, frustration in my voice. “You’re good at what you do. I just need some boundaries.”

“I get it, Scott,” he said. “See you at the gym.”

I was actually hyperventilating when I get to my car. I didn’t start it right away though. Instead, I thought about what would happen if I’d let the conversation go the other way. “Fuck!” I grunted aloud to myself, then opened the car door.

Austin was surprised as hell when he answered the door and saw me there. I gathered my courage while I had it and stepped inside, shutting the door and then turning to him. ‘

“God,” he hissed, so turned on now that he realized what was going on. We met in a kiss, more heated than the one in the hotel room. It was like the several weeks had led to the pent-up lust that came pouring out. My first time with Austin had felt strange and unfamiliar, and in a way I was glad to have that behind me.

I got down in front of him, crouching right there. He was hard for me already, fully hard, and I could see that thick tool riding up into a tent of his sweats. He helped me pull off his sweats and with a goofy grin he hooked his thumbs in his waistband to pull it over his dong.

"I didn't get a look the last time," I said then looked up into his eyes. "I didn't think I'd get into a guy's dick like this."

"But you do...?" Austin clarified.

"Maybe because of the fine man it's attached to... but yeah." I looked at his cock again, thrilled to see it firm and pointing straight up. He wasn't giant but he was hung, and there was just something so beautiful about his erection. I looked back up into his face, where I saw happiness, excitement and thrill.

My hand touched his hard quad muscle and that’s all the signal he needed. He lined up his prick to my lips. "I’ve been thinking about this a lot, Mr. D," he whispered hoarsely.

I had been thinking a lot about this too. “Will sex get in the way of the friendship thing?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Fuck no, Scott." Then. “Come on, pretty please, man. Suck me.”

I breathed in his scent, then leaned in. "Ohhh," he grunted as I began sucking him.

I didn't know what I was doing last time. I still didn't. But I knew I was better at this, and I could read in Austin's voice and body that he was crazy turned on. I was learning my suit was part of the thrill for him and the whole "exec" type I represented to him.

I pulled off and enjoyed the sight of his engorged cock, twitching and wet with my spit. Not far from shooting.

"When you feel ready, just come in my mouth, OK?" I asked.

He nodded like he couldn't believe what was happening. That made me want to give it my all. I took about four inches into my mouth, making it five as I bobbed up and down furiously. My gag reflex didn't kick in, which I was grateful for. I'd missed this, missed the feel and act of a cock in my mouth. Missed making another man cum.

Austin's load was big. It took me by surprise and I coughed a little before I remembered what he did last time. I pulled back so the prick head spurted on my tongue. I don't know if that felt best for Austin, but I decided I loved that part. I tasted and swallowed him, in a couple of rounds, till the poor guy was spent.

"Let me do you," he urged.

I was horny but self conscious. I unzipped my suit as Austin got between my legs, running his hands along the fabric. "I'm not hung you like I'm afraid."

"I love your cock," he said. Then looking up in my eyes, he added. "For real, Scott. Everything about you turns me on." He leaned in for a kiss and I met him. A part of me wanted to avoid the kissing thing but I decided oral sex was a bigger issue. Besides, I wanted this. I kissed Austin back.

His soft kiss, full of gentle tongue, got me rock hard and leaking. He smirked as he pulled back and saw my dick poking up hard out of the open fly. "You're hard as steel," he said. "I love it."

I watched as he got down and started going down on me. I guess I didn't have a lot of length, and Austin managed to work the whole length with lots of spit and lots of suction. Kelly very occasionally gave me head, but it was nothing like this.

"Buddy!" I gasped. Warning him.

He moaned around my cock. This was the first time I'd blasted in another man's mouth since college. But this was night and day different. This was Austin.

He was more talkative after we uncoupled. "Damn, that was incredible," Austin laughed. I realized I missed his laugh and his smile. I missed laidback, happy Austin.

He made himself presentable again and offered me something to drink. I took some water.

"Trust me, Scott," he assured me. "I'm not going to do anything to mess up anything for you at home. But I'm so fucking grateful for that."

"I'm glad," I said. "I've been thinking about the sex for the last three weeks."

"I wasn't sure..." he said. He looked at his watch. "Listen, you're gonna be late for the club. And I probably need a nap before my evening sessions."

I stood up. I found getting off had eased my mood, and I was still processing how good Austin's blowjob had felt. "I'm being greedy," I said. "But maybe I can get away sometime this weekend. That is, if you wanna?"

"Hell yeah, I wanna," he said softly. And with a new confidence he stepped up to me to kiss me. He ran his hands up along the lapels of my coat. “And maybe you can wear your suit for me again sometime.”

#drakestories

[bonefall]

Thinking about that one post about the 5000 year old teenager girl found buried with her collection of 180 sheep ankle bones but specifically the addition of how ankle bones were used as dice back then and she was a gamer.. what I'm getting at is: would clan cats make bone dice and Are They Gaming

First let me teach you a little bit about Knucklebones: The Game.

You probably know one of its variants better as Jacks, that game you play with a rubber ball and little metal spikes. There's a version of Knucklebones in nearly every culture, where the basic idea is to throw an object up in the air, pick up as many of the smaller objects as possible, and then catch the larger object before it hits the ground.

In cultures with a lot of access to livestock, usually the hand and ankle bones of sheep would be used. Places that don't have them might use rocks, seeds, shells, whatever. It was Ancient Greece that had such an extreme take on the game that it eventually evolved into dice-throwing-- a totally chance-based game where you would just throw the biggest foot bone of a sheep (the astralagus; equivalent to the talus in a human) and see how they landed.

So the girl they uncovered in Kazakhstan with the 180 sheep bones wasn't really buried "with dice," make sense? It's more like being buried with jacks. Central Asia is actually jam-packed with knucklebones-types games. Mongolian Shagai is recognized by UNESCO.

And it makes a TON of sense, because those regions are grasslands absolutely ideal for raising sheep.

SO. CLAN CATS.

There's two major considerations here;

ONE: The access to, and size of, sheep bones.

Clan cats don't kill sheep. TRIBE cats actually have access to sheep and kill one or two a year! I would actually like to give them a bunch of special uses for various parts of the sheep. I think the eagle-killing thing in canon is actually pretty ridiculous for several reasons

BUT THAT SAID, an astralagus is the size of a cat's paw.

[ID: A human holding an astralagus in the tips of its fingers.]

You'd need to play a different sort of game with this. It's more like a square softball to a cat than a little rubber ball.

Boar also have bones like this, though. A muntjac probably produces bones that are sized properly for a cat. Hares and rabbits are probably the BEST bet here though, which, somehow feels right. I'm not sure why, but WindClan seems like the gamerclan Clan that would think up these sorts of cute games.

Something about it fits their whole savvy culture, tunneling, emphasis on trade and invention pre-Heatherstar. ShadowClan and WindClan share a cultural value of innovation, but ShadowClan seems more... chemical and competitive.

Hard to explain it. ShadowClan invents flax retting and WindClan invents the drop spindle. There's overlap but it has a bit of a different flavor between them.

TWO: Range of motion

I've made BB!Cats have the same range of motion as the cats in canon, which is higher than a real cat. They're able to WEAVE, you can't do that without a basic pincher grasp. They're also able to mix herbs, wrap things up in leaves, and apply bandages.

I haven't actually given my reworked cats much more ability than they already had, I just codified rules based on what we already see.

But that said, they DO have less range of motion in their hands than humans. They have little thumbs and a better ability to grab, but can't twist their paws completely upwards. There's no way they can toss an object straight up, then catch it again.

So any games they do play would need to accommodate that. So far I've got Scratchstone, Teeterstrike, and an unnamed rhyme game. The bone game would need to look more like a game of marbles than jacks. Or, maybe more modified to accommodate swipes and strikes, somehow? Or a two-person game of catch?

Gotta think about it.

#Partner and I had a super cool food idea for the tribe where they make a sort of like... flavored bone lolly out of sheep bones #Called a Sucker #And they'd soak it in juice before leaving on a hunt and gauge how long they had been out based on the fading flavor of their sucker #And have a cool phrase like ''where have you been?? My sucker's gone bland you spanner'' #And if they go into something dangerous like a cave or down a river #they actually leave their sucker behind #so if they run into danger and someone comes looking for them #they'd see their sucker unattended #The sucker would also get holes carved in it to feed a brightly colored string or something through it #So it's very bright and conspicuous #And you can tell what sucker belongs to whom based on how they bedazzled it #But I couldn't find anything on flavoring bones or replenishing their flavor #Since humans aren't dedicated carnivores #The string has the added value of making it easy to pull out if they accidentally swallow the bone #But it's all still wip #clan culture #bone babble

[youremyheaven]

I second completely what you are saying about Claire Nakti's work, it's so male centered and heteronormative, and she always has to find a way to make it about sexuality or attraction when it frankly is not relevant.

I know that this is a personal thing, but as an ashlesha native I could not finish watching the ashlesha video, I found it so triggering as a person that has been sexually abused before. I found it really disturbing how she, in my opinion, seemed to romanticize abuse scenes or even directly say that it was part of the ashlesha "allure". She didn't criticize the men for being abusive, and placed responsibility on the ashlesha natives. I have absolutely no desire to be dominated or subjugated by a man, and the BDSM connection was just completely uncalled for, as she also ignored the fact that women can also be and are the Dom. Then again, she might have mentioned this but I couldn't finish the video.

Comparatively, I'm also a Purva bhadrapada native, and when I watched the Purva bhadrapada video, I learned a lot thematically yes, but I cant ignore the one dimensional representation she gave the women. Just like I don't have the desire to be dominated by men, I also don't have the desire to ruin their lives for absolutely no reason! 😭 It's cartoonish, a Femme Fatale is just the male version of "the bad boy" archetype but without the grace men are given by women cause they think "uwu he's sad I gotta save him♥️". Archetypes do not represent real women, they are just a way to dumb them down.

I think that part of the problem is using movie and movie characters to represent nakshatra themes, when most of these movies are made by and for straight men. They do not represent the experiences of women or queer people. Also, Movies aren't real life and I feel like it would be more realistic to study the patterns in natives lives and use movies more sparingly.

I've actually heard the same comment from multiple Ashleshas about how uncomfortable they were with how Claire sexualised the whole Ashlesha experience. I haven't watched the whole video either so idk but something I've noticed with Claire's research in general is how she fixates on one or two recurring themes (usually sexual/romantic/somehow involving men) and makes the whole video revolve around that?? she nitpicks examples to further her narrative. whenever she makes videos that are more centred around planetary dominance, its very apparent that the examples she is citing aligns with one nak or two more than the rest. In her Jupiter women video, most of the examples cited where Vishaka with some Punarvasus thrown into the mix and virtually no PBP girlies cited. i think the whole concept of planetary dominance is skewed to say the least because each nak manifests the planet's energies in a way that is unique to them so the qualities we associate with a planet are perhaps actually just the qualities of one single nak that exhibits it the most.

claire's research is also rooted in western esotericism, like kabbalah and whatever Aleister Crowley was teaching folks idek, and those are heavily based on weird sex rituals and male gaze-y teachings which if the rumours of her creepy bf doing the research are true, makes sense

she correlates vedic astrology to "archetypes" so each nak is "femme fatale" or "mother of maya" or whatever but its 1000x more complex than that?? its really really hard to narrow down a nak's energy into just one or two aspects, even when i do research i am acutely aware of how this is just a glimpse that i have into this energy at this moment, i find it very icky how claire will outright claim some nak is a succubus or some other nak is a tantric initiatrix without giving them the complexity they are due??

yeah same i think relying heavily on movies and fictitious works is not reliable because even beyond the fact that men make it for men, all art is the source of imagination. imagination and reality are very different. in my research i found out that many dictators have Jupiter naks, i wouldnt be able to make that connection by looking at movies because Jupiter themes manifest in movies are very different?? (surreal punarvasu, transformation heavy vishaka and chaotic destructive PBP and their mafia movies) what art we make and how we channel our naks through art is different from how these naks affect our personalities and behaviour

[unreleasedwrites]

Baking Shenanigans

“Told you!”

summary: You and your boyfriend are just at your place. It’s 2 in the morning, the both of you couldn’t fall asleep and were craving some cookies— you guys came across some random five star recipe online and decided to bake cookies together— an activity you haven’t tried with him until this very moment.

character(s) included: Kwak Jihan x fem!reader

cw: pet names/nicknames, kissing on neck, lips, forehead, you and Jihan have been in a relationship for a good while, sort of sarcastic reader, reader is shorter by like a head compared to Jihan, idk a lot about baking because i’m usually an assistant, idk any recipes so i just clicked the first 5 star one i saw, a bunch of teasing, other than that, it’s just fluff & me coping with whats happening in lookism 1a, and reader is addressed as “you” here cs idk? thaz how i write

unwrapped on: Saturday Night, August 20 2023

wrapped up on: Wednesday Morning, August 23 2023

published on: Wednesday Morning, August 23 2023 (at arnd 10 AM)

“The first two ingredients we need is a whole bunch of softened butter and even more sugar” You said as you looked over at Jihan.

“Whats the difference between the brown and white sugar?”

“No idea!” You said as you clapped once and walked away.

You left Jihan up to the decision of which sugar should be used while you grabbed the big bowl with 2 sticks of butter in it. Which you guys had just placed in the microwave for a few seconds so that it’d soften up in no time, but not to the point that it’d melt.

“How much sugar do you think we need?”

“I don’t know, the recipe doesn’t have specific measurements..” You told your boyfriend all the while checking the recipe you guys found.

You simply placed the big bowl in front of your boyfriend cause you weren’t looking for the perfect outcome, you were just hungry and happy that you were taking up baking with him.

“Put er’ there!” You playfully said.

Jihan just stared at you.

“Are you mocking my fake country accent..?” Jihan said, obviously trying to hold in his laughter all the while scratching his head.

You just smiled, a bit embarrassed as you looked away from his gaze.

After a period of awkward silence with an occasional wheeze, your boyfriend finally bursted out laughing, completely loosing it.

“Shut up!! Its two in the morning and I didn’t know what else to say..”

You got a mixer from one of the kitchen closets & started assembling it as it was still in the box. While you were doing that, Jihan gave up & just poured the entire bags of both sugars into the bowl of butter. Luckily, they were only about 1 cup each from both sugars, so it wasn’t something either of you found to be alarming.

You brought the assembled mixer to the counter Jihan was at and stood beside him right after you plugged the mixer in.

“Mix away, cowboy”

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you, little cowgirl?”

“How the hell am I a cowgirl?” You rose a brow as you watched him turn on the mixer.

“Cause your mine, and if im a cowboy, you’ll be my cowgirl.” Jihan said as he chuckled.

“Sounds just about right to me” You laughed as well.

“Do you think this has the right texture?” He glanced over at you as he turned the mixer off.

“Looks good to me”

“Then could you get whatever we need next, please?” He asked.

“Alright-y! I got 2 eggs and some vanilla extract.”

“Atta’ girl”

You then got a measuring cup and poured some vanilla extract in to it while Jihan cracked the two eggs into the bowl with the mixture.

“How’d ya manage to get that much egg shells into the mixture? That’s gotta be some sort of achievement.” You said sarcastically all the while applauding.

“It’s not my fault, its definitely the eggs in your fridge, they ought to be deranged’.” He said as he was taking the egg shells out & throwing them into the garbage bin nearby, only to come back and stand by your side once he finished.

“What a unique excuse.” You ridiculed and laughed at the irony.

“Oh hush, c’mere you.” He then held his free hand around your waist and pulled you closer to him. Then he kissed you on the forehead.

“That’s what you get” He added.

“Hmph” You started blushing uncontrollably.

He then took a swift step backwards and used his hand on your waist to gently pull you in front of him into a position where he was kind of hugging you from behind. You two have about a head worth of height difference, so he easily put his head on top of yours. He proceeded to free his occupied hand which had just removed the bowl of mixture from the mixer, then placing it on the counter right in front of you as he handed you a whisk.

“Whisk away, cowgirl” He spoke into your ear, which immediately gave you goosebumps.

You then proceeded to whisk as Jihan held the bowl down so you wouldn’t have to worry your pretty little head about that.

You’ve been whisking for a some time (considering it wasn’t easy to get through to the texture), and your boyfriend has been humming some melodies into your ear down to your neck the entire time while swaying you left and right using his left hand that was on your waist.

“I’ll go get the flour” Your boyfriend’s grip on your waist loosened as he went to go get the flour you guys measured in advance earlier.

You just hummed in approval and left the whisk to open the bag of chocolate chips.

Jihan came back and stood beside you while he poured all the flour, and you started pouring tiny chocolate chips all around the mixture. You guys then switched on the mixer one last time to get it ready.

After mixing, you guys washed your hands (arguing over the sink), and then started rolling the cookie dough into different shapes.

“Look, Jihan— I made a heart, and guess who its for!” You exclaimed while holding cookie dough in the shape of a heart in your two hands pressed together.

“Hmmm..” Jihan added, “Well, whoever its for— do they get a kiss with that?”

“Depends, if they play their cards right, then I don’t see why not!” You happily teased.

“Hmmmmmm…..mmm…~” Jihan dragged his hum out before he spoke again, “Could it possibly be.. for me?” He smirked.

“Correct!” You then went on your tippy toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Not to be greedy or anythin’ but I was hoping it’s be on the lips” He pouted as he looked at you.

“Sorry, but unfortunately for you, you took too long to guess, so the reward has been downgraded to only your cheek.” You teased.

“Is that so?”

“Yep!”

“What can I do to change your mind?”

“Absolutely nothing! Tough Luck!”

“I’m gonna get back at you later, when my hands aren’t smothered in cookie dough— so you best be ready.”

You just smiled back at him.

After you guys finished shaping and rolling the cookie dough into all sorts of shapes (in ball form lol), you guys then put it on an oiled tray with parchment paper and popped it into the oven.

Once you closed the oven door shut, Jihan immediately started kissing you from behind all over.

“You’re kinda missing the target, don’t ya think?” You said trying your best to hold in your laughter as he kept placing pecks on your neck, which started to feel ticklish.

Then he swung you right around and gave you a kiss on the lips.

While waiting for the cookies to finish, you guys just went back to your shared bedroom and cuddled while you spoke to one another.

You two only came out when you two heard a ding coming from the kitchen.

You then opened the oven to let the heat out.

“You think it went well??” You asked as you looked over at your boyfriend who got a pair of mittens.

“Dunno, lets check.”

Jihan used the mittens to take the tray out of the oven and place it on the counter.

“Looks like it did go well!”

“How about the taste?”

“Well we gotta wait for it to cool down.”

After a good while of some more teasing, the cookies finally seemed to cool down so you guys decided to finally try it.

“It tastes really good!” Jihan said.

“Are you exaggerating or something?”

“What? No, here— taste it.”

He then gave you a cookie and you bit into it, surprisingly it did taste really good. He saw your reaction and smirked.

“Told you!”

notes: I’m thinking of making this like a series, where i make a fic abt female reader baking w a lookism character, but idk? The end is quite rushed because i didnt know what to put anymore— 😭😭 Although I hope it isn’t too bad and I hope it isnt cringey either lmao I tried my best though (plez request) I was planning on typing more stuff in this notes but i forgot them so might update later (sorry for the mistakes) I might do goo next w same title but yall like baking smth elseee

- With or without proper credits, please don’t try to steal or claim any of my works as your own

I genuinely appreciate opinions, feedback, likes, and reblogs, as this is my third ever post on this blog.

Once again, I hope this isn’t too bad for my third ever post, and i’ll probably be doing more characters in lookism 🫶🫶

#lookism #manwha #anime #manwha lookism #lookism manwha #anime lookism #lookism anime #lookism fandom #fandom #webtoon #jihan kwak #kwak jihan #lookism kwak jihan #kwak jihan lookism #lookism jihan #jihan lookism #lookism jihan kwak #jihan kwak lookism #kwak jihan x reader #female reader #for you #foryoupage #foryou #fluff #lookism webtoon #webtoon lookism #unreleasedwrites #jihan kwak x reader #baking #cookies

[sacr3d-joeyxx]

Overcoming Demons

Joey x Fem!Reader

Request from: iminlovewithmycarrrr

*Could you do a Joey jordison x reader where the reader is a vocalist and guitarist for a black metal band (she can scream and sing very well) and her band keeps playing the same gigs as slipknot and he just gets obsessed with the way she performs. The guys all tell Joey to ask her out*

Quinn’s POV

The crowd went wild as we performed our last song.. I said thank you and that it was a joy playing for Des Moines, Iowa. We as Ritualistic Suicide was done for the night. I was in love with the sound of encores and some occasional ‘I love you’.

It wasn’t hard to perform but it did come with its massive drawbacks, well just for me of course..Having to scream but also having to balance it with singing was hard. I got into black metal at the ripe age of 19 and I was sold when I heard the screams it was a form of art to me. Screaming is what I wanted to do nothing else but when we had to kick out the guitarist for getting arrested because of drugs but let’s get this straight there’s nothing wrong with doing drugs in this band but when we started to actually get gigs and record deals we all went cold turkey; well except him and he started to get involved with the law and then we all knew that the dude just simply had to go. I then took his spot after that. It sucked mostly because he named the band but it was whatever. So my job was now vocals and guitar…not impossible but it was in the beginning. I just had to learn differently, it took a lot of practice but it worked!

This time the black blood came out at the right time, it actually came out! It goes with our new single called ‘Homicide’ which ends with us covered in fake blood by it coming out near our eyes, mouths, ears and hands while playing. It’s kinda hard to explain how it works but anywhere you have tubing on your face you cover it with black face paint to balance it out; the tubes are a solid black color and it’s mechanically released with a push button that someone pushes backstage for us. It makes us look like we’re performing a sacrifice..I guess.. but a couple of drawbacks is it stains your skin like no other.. the other is getting it off your equipment..you see I have a pure white guitar, our bassist has a blood red one…you leave it on too long..well it’s fucking over..

Honestly I’d say the best part of this whole thing is a couple of things actually, first one is seeing the crowd; the way they listen to the music and move with the rhythm is a fish out of water experience. The second one is hearing our music on the radio or it getting mentioned in any form of media. Lastly getting all our cosmetics on, no black metal band is allowed to preform without it; well you can it’s just frowned upon in this profession. It’s funny seeing your closet friend’s faces in basically all white. You think you’re in a dream or something when you first start to put it on.

The best part about doing the makeup is the designs, most of the white face paint ends up in my hair by the end of the show, I look 50+ years older when I step off the stage. It comes out..kinda but it’s still going to be there for a couple of weeks..You’ll find white spots on your skin where you thought it was gone. It hides our face I guess but not really.. the band that almost always plays after us, especially when it’s a gig that could be a mix of all sorts of bands. They wear masks and red jumpsuits..crazy how much they look like a band in them. They are called Slipknot but I don’t know much about them really except for the band having nine people. I mean we have five people but nine is way too much yet they make it work.

Honestly they really intimidating, like they could all definitely be serial killers.. but they are the way they are for reasons. I’m taller than their drummer..he’s gotta be 5’3 or something. I’m 5’10..but there’s nothing wrong with short kings. I do think he’s kinda funny though, he’s just a mass of passion and speed. You could obviously tell when he plays that he enjoys what he does.

Any second now our drummer is gonna need my help to get the kick drum get in the case. The stage was already set and what not when we got there but literally 2 hours before opening Cam did something to it and just didn’t sound right anymore. Lucky for us I told him to pack an extra..of course he did but it’s fucking funny how the kick drum couldn’t survive a practice session.. nonetheless we fixed it just in time.

“Quinn! I need help..the kick drum..I can’t get it in the case!”

Bingo, like fucking clock work. I chuckled to myself as I walked over there and looked how it was placed in the case.

“Well, no shit..if you haven’t noticed.. you forgot to fold in the foam in the corner on the right..just tuck it back in”

He looked at me then itched his head, and went to go fix it before closing it and giving me a thumbs up..I rolled my eyes and turned to walk offstage..Now I had to find three others, it won’t be hard because they are in one of three places. The green-room, signings, or loading things on the bus. Normally we’d do signings but last time we did that someone brought a human skull..nothing wrong with that but none of us wanted to deface someone’s mom. So they’re not doing that…honestly I’m going go to go with the green-room; Declan, Mex, and Juz are all fat..not really but they have a tendency to stuff their faces with food after a performance like that.

I hope I’m not scarring any ‘normal person’ in my adventure to find the three stooges, but I probably will..It appears to always happen.

*Whatever the fucking sound is called when two people bump into each other when neither is paying attention.*

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Joey’s POV

She looked like a god..an immortal god…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain what she does to me. The makeup, her clothes, her hair.. she looked perfect..to me at least..I don’t think she’ll look my way..she’d have to look down as well..

I can’t remember how many times I’ve been doing the same gigs as them but it’s obvious that it’s on purpose. All of my band mates keep telling me to talk to her..I wish it was easy as that but I’m intimidated by her..she’s gotta be 6’1 and on top of that she’s in platforms..I have balls with certain things but women scare me..fucking weird how that works..your attracted to them but scared shitless of them.

Maybe I should go talk to her..fuck it…she had a great show and I should tell her..fuck it!

*Whatever the fucking sound is called when two people bump into each other when neither is paying attention.*

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Quinn’s POV

I brushed my hair out of my face and now knew why I didn’t see him..it’s cause he’s were fucking short.. but what’s funnier about this is that he’s wearing a bright red jumpsuit.

“Woah! Sorry man!”

“You’re good..I kinda was looking for you”

“Really? What do you need from me?”

“Just wanted to talk about how you preformed out there..”

“Oh..thank you! It was definitely up there with one of our first shows..mainly because it all went according to schedule…”

“You’re welcome..-“

“So sorry for cutting you off but I’ve gotta get going to find my mates, you can come along if you want..your set isn’t until 8:00pm and it’s 6:21pm now..”

“Uhhh-sure I’ve got time..”

“Cool..uhh just try and keep up, I’ve got long legs.. y’know..”

I walk fast, mean I don’t have a choice really I’ve given such long legs.. but they get longer in platforms..I turned the corner and looked at the wall with the little sign pointing left saying the green-room was that way…I looked back and the guy was still keeping up with me. Honestly he was probably sweating bullets under everything he was wearing, I would be too. I stopped before looking at the doors..bingo, found it. I looked back at him and he gave me a thumbs up..

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Joey’s POV

God..I honestly think she knows that I’m crazy about her..fuck..the things I would do to her..the bright white stage makeup with the black blood was still wet..her hands were covered in it. It looked like tree roots as it patterned up her wrists and eventually her arms. The messy jet black hair..covered in white makeup..I’m fucking obsessed with this woman..and she has to know..

“So.. you single…?”

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Quinn’s POV

I whipped my head around to him, I go wide-eyed while looking at him..I don’t know if he’s being serious or he’s just trying to be funny.

“Huh? Why are you asking..you interested?”

“……”

“Hello..I asked you a question?”

“..yeah..I am….”

“Huh..sorry I couldn’t hear you..”

“…..”

“Yeah, I am”

“You’re not like fucking with me are you?”

“….no?”

Oh so he’s actually being real..uh I don’t know what to do here I barely know him..should I give him my number.. shit I don’t know. This could be a set up from his band or mine..but I know mine wouldn’t fuck with me like this…they don’t have big enough balls to do so. He honestly doesn’t seem bad from what I can tell but he looks like he’s about to pass out from the stress of this situation..fidgety little guy..picking at his fingernails while waiting for my response.

“You’re one hundred percent positive?”

“Yes, I’m one hundred fucking percent positive..it’s a serious question..that I would like to know the answer to”

I could give him my number, I don’t have a piece of paper though.. but I happen to have a sharpie..

“Come here real quick..”

I reached into my back pocket and pulled at a sharpie as he made his way over here, I looked at him and smiled softly.

“Takes some balls to say that, y’know?”

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Joey’s POV

Okay..she took it well..maybe she’ll give me her number..oh wait she telling me to go to her..the hell is she doing digging in her back pocket..oh wait it’s a sharpie..fuck I don’t have any paper she can use..

“So..has this ever worked before?”

“Not really..I don’t don’t talk to them if I’m interested in them..they are scary..”

“Give me your hand real quick..hopefully it doesn’t rub off during your gig..”

I gave her my hand and she held it was she wrote her name and number on my hand..her hand was cold like a corpse..but who cares? I could see her looking at my chipped black fingernail polish..I looked up at her and we locked eyes for a moment.. the world went quiet and it felt like it stopped spinning..

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Quinn’s POV

I wrote my name and number on his hand and then looked at his nail polish that was black and in the process of chipping. I looked up at him and we locked eyes for a moment.. I felt the world stop I knew he did too.

“Thanks….Quinn..”

“You’re quite welcome”

“I’m going to head back now..”

“Okay..after your set come find me if we’re still here..if not then use my number.. answer it eventually”

I sighed softly as he began to walked away, I knew his gig was going to be a lot longer than ours was..they had a bigger fan base than we did but it’s whatever. I either had the choice to stay here another night or wait for him to text me.

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Joey’s POV

Fucking hell..wow I actually have her number and seems like she didn’t just give a fake one either. Okay..okay!! I guess that’s a win for me..

#joey jordison #corey taylor #sid wilson #chris fehn #craig jones #jim root #mick thomson #shawn crahan #paul gray #on my knees #oneshot #short story #oc #slipknot