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#i'd love to explain this but i won't

bebemoon · 2 years

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look for the name: ALICE

erdem resort 2o17; cream lace victorian-edwardian-style gown w/ black sash and ribbon detailing (edited by me<3)

antique bejeweled and pearl-drip fringe vest, worn by theda bara as “cleopatra” in 1917

lou taylor black draped tissue vintage clutch bag w/ shoulder chain and mirror inside

colibri kreisler vintage gold-toned pewterfigural rose lighter, c. 196o’s

erdem “phillipa” black velvet lace platform sandals w/ yellow and white crystal buckle

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emdotcom · 11 months

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You. Nuance now.

You can like shit that has problematic shit in it, without being a bad person. You don't have to give me a list of EVERY bad thing a piece of media you enjoy does, & why it's bad, but it DOES help to be mindful of that shit. You're allowed to enjoy your bad thing. You don't have to explain it or qualify it to anyone -- you know it's bad, we all know it's bad.

That said, if you watch something with bad shit, people will indeed judge you, or want you to not talk about your thing, or may even avoid you/block you for posting about it. While I know that feels bad, it's just a fact, bud. Those people don't directly want to hurt you, they just feel real strongly, & I think they're allowed to feel that, & I think they're allowed to act on that, to a certain point.

FURTHERMORE, there is a fucking line that you do not, do not, do NOT cross! Where that is will be different for most people, & fuzzy for all. For me, I can tolerate a lot of shit, but another person may not. I also think there is a definitive line you don't cross, which is media that is actively hurting somebody. I find it helpful to ask, "Is consuming this thing harmful? Can I hurt somebody this way?" I.E. you buy the queen terf antisemitism & transphobia game, beaming money DIRECTLY into the queen terf 's bank account, which sh has publicly, VERBALLY said she treats as a person accepting her shit beliefs, & she will then use the money to lobby horrendous bills. You are not enjoying garbage, at this point. You are actively doing something wrong, & you fucking know it, & I don't have the time nor the desire to waste another single goddam breath on telling you that any further.

I am not saying that you are required to go invest in problematic things. I am not saying you need to see something you KNOW will upset you. I am saying you are allowed to keep a list of media that you will never, ever touch, that you hate enough that you will not even talk to somebody about it. I am saying you can block a person over liking a piece of shit media you fucking hate. I am saying you can have a list of things that bug you so badly, that you immediately drop something just for having it, & you don't have to qualify anything on that list to me, or explain why -- you can just avoid that thing -- that's just fine. I am saying you can like something with bad shit in it, & I promise you do NOT need to give me a 5k words essay on why it's bad -- this isn't school, you're not getting Oops I Like Something Bad 😞😔 homework.

I am saying you are human. You are meat & bone, with a bit of electricity running through it. You are fallable. You are allowed to like something that isn't good. You do not have to be forever pure, forever flawless marble, because you are not made of stone, & even if you were, marble is worn down & away, with time. Nothing is infallible or perfect, in this world, & that's nice, actually.

I'm also saying, what a fucking miserable way to go through life, seeing everything that is not perfectly pristine as a sin, as a crime, as something that even an association with makes you guilty. There's so many things to see, to read, to watch, to share, & you're being FUCKING CATHOLIC ABOUT IT??? DO I NEED TO REPENT?? FOR LIKING SOMETHING NOT 10000% CLEAN?? SHOULD I PAY MY FUCKING TITHES OR JUST GET THE LASHES. GRABS YOU. MAIMS.

#gale chatter #YES i am mad #discourse #vent #hey if you come onto this post to explain why you like the transphobic wizard game I'm just gonna block you okay?#i will just. fucking block you. & move on with my day. because i hate you #harry potter ment #jkr ment #THIS IS NOT. ABOUT THAT. THIS IS ABOUT LIKING ELFEN LIED. THIS IS ABOUT WATCHING TRIGUN. THIS IS ABOUT READING. HOMESTUCK.#this is about watching old films that have words you don't & won't ever use #this is about finding comfort in discomfort & being mortal #this is about being insane about your favorite little dumpsterfire & being a gourmet trash consumer #this is about whatever. about nothing. about everything to a certain point #I'd like to further state i previously had such a mindset that i would drop anything that ever had even the smallest bump & never touch it #but tbh. i ran out of new shit to like pretty quick & jt was a miserable way to go into every new thing #just kinda hoping this one would be normal about its female characters #& once i started actively seeking out garbage & admitting i have shit taste & like bad things i had more fun.#i found like. new shit i loved that i previously wouldn't have even touched #& i think that's fun & i wish people would try such a thing

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andthebubbles · 1 year

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i was gonna write this post after the race tonight but i’ll have to sleep pretty soon after it finishes so here i am at 3.07pm writing this. (i sure hope the race isn’t gonna piss me off/leave me tilted in some way!! i have work tomorrow, which so far involves picking up stuff from one person aka i’m gonna be PAID to DRIVE i mean fuck yeahhhh)

there’s one thing i’m pretty glad of and that’s about today being my last day of watching f1 (at least until/if seb gets a f1 job in management or something, but then i’ll probably just pay attention to the pictures/whatever video we have, and not watch the racing again until everyone i hate has left the grid). i will not miss f1. i will still be writing simi fic though (and sebson and martian and whatever tickles my fancy). i have not liked f1 since they got rid of the V8s. and it’s made me realise that with cars i go for the sound, the sound is important; in racing it’s almost all the same to me (it can be exciting, it usually has a chunk of boringness in it, and i always feel like i’d like it better if i was actually the one (capable of) racing) but the SOUND is what differentiates one series from another for me. i can watch heaps of rally because it sounds glorious, i can leave V8+ f1 on in the background and just enjoy the engines singing. but when they brought in the V6s they just don’t sound good to me, and that’s really the reason why i stopped liking f1.

people who aren’t max fans tend to hate rbr these days i’ve noticed, but i am almost 100% sure that every other team is as dirty as rbr (or has the potential to be). it’s just that rbr is more well publicised, it’s more hateable, it’s filling the niche as the bad evil team, idk. i don’t tend to hold things like this against them because it’s all the same everywhere, and if seb hasn’t boycotted them, seb who actually knows them, then that’s good enough for me.

i will always have a soft spot for rbr seb. maybe you could say that rbr seb is the one i still like. i think if i’d gotten into f1 when seb was at am, i might not have cared about him one bit/just been very indifferent towards him (apart from his rainbowness, but that’s not enough for me to like a person). (i’m not one of those people who like famous people based on their beliefs, but rather whatever i perceive their personality to be.) i liked how rbr seb wanted to win at all costs, i liked his little nuggets of wisdom about life and how to deal with things. i’m sure if am seb had a car that could win races, we’d probably get this ‘win at all costs’ mentality back, but that’s not what happened, and i really do miss it, i relate to it better. ofc what seb is doing now is very nice but i will always like more that singlemindedness to win, that huge focus on racing, because it means he’s still hungry (i know he still is, but when the car can’t win i think probably that just has to be shoved to the backseat or you’d risk being angry all the time, idk (i’m projecting, but this is me trying to understand it))

i love that this is a wall of text XDDD because that means less people are likely to read all of it

i’ve deliberately not found another driver to like on the current grid because i want to be away from f1 asap. the thing that kills you with watching any sport is the hope, imo. but i think maybe that’s just me feeling things very intensely and not knowing how to deal with it, apart from shoving it all away. and now i get to burn bridges! i’m good at that i guess, it keeps things simple.

i’m not gonna miss seb in f1, probably because i won’t be watching f1 anymore so it makes no difference to me. i’ll admit though that once i got away from all the (melo)dramatic posts i saw on the seb tracked tag that yeah there were some pics i saw that made me feel something. sort of like, ~the last track walk, the last whatever. i don’t remember such an outpouring of love for a driver retiring (the ones i remember are mark and kimi (i missed jenson’s retirement)) but i could be wrong, since i’ve never liked mark so i was glad when he left, and kimi... i was just getting back into watching f1 so i don’t really remember. i missed him more the next year when f1 started up again and he wasn’t there. but he looks really happy this year every time i’ve seen him, so hopefully seb will be like that too

yeah i just, idk. fingers crossed seb gets to do the whole race and that he’s happy by the end of it. i just want the dude to be happy, whatever happens. i don’t care about him leaving f1 as long as he’s happy

#ramble.txt #//#slightly off topic but i'd love it if someone could explain to me why a lot of people seem to be getting sad/crying about seb leaving #i mean that nicely... i'm just not very good at emotions and making sense of them #like... we are excited to see what he'll do next right? he's excited about it?#a little bit sad too because it's over but he's ready to move on?#and things are gonna be all fresh next year and it's just... yeah?#like #i can understand the sadness from it being over #and he won't do blah thing again #the thing he's been doing for the last blah years #but. is that what people are crying about? or is it something else that i've missed?

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indigobackfire · 2 years

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(venting about Hannibal pls don't mind me)

I never thought I'd say this but I'm glad I stopped interacting with the Hannibal fandom when I did.

I mean I still love everything Hannibal to my core, from the show to the books to the fics and the art.

But the stream of younger fans tiktok ruined it for me. Call me gatekeeper whatever. I hate people's need to call every little shit problematic and moralize every aspect of content and fandom and act like content creators owe them crap.

I never thought I'd reach the day to see people calling hannibal (and hannigram) problematic when the show is about a cannibalistic killer 🙄

#I'd watch season 4 even if it was bad #i doubt it'd be as bad as people think. but even then. i love these people too much not to #maybe i'm being a hypocrite cause I complain about hphm left and right #the writing is shite yes. but I'm still here consuming it and I complain bc i love it #i have so many feelings about this bc hannibal was my teenage years #and it was such a nice environment #at least on tumblr. i hate twitter so I can speak for that corner #i won't get in details bc I surely would get my legs tangled trying to explain #but man. know what? idc #let it be 'problematic' let it be bad. let it be cringe #i agree with what I saw around. fandom culture is making us greedy and spoiled #vent #rant

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joycrispy · 8 months

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I wanna talk about The Angel Who Would Be Crowley.

Because I had a certain set of expectations, which got thoroughly trashed in the first five minutes of S2, and my genuine response is, "Oh, fuck, yup. You're right. That's WAY better."

Looking around at GO fandom, I'm not alone in this. So let's talk about it.

Basically, a lot of people (myself included) believed that he was a high-ranking angel, and therefore as chilly and remote as every other powerful angel we'd seen at that point. We pictured Crowley-To-Be as long-haired, regal and imposing --and the fanart at the time reflected this. I'd link some if Tumblr didn't hate links.

Something like this:

We were collectively drawing on a few things --mostly, Crawly's appearance and general bearing in the Biblical scenes of S1--

--But also scattered hints of his importance, backed up by conspicuous absences in Heaven and a few profound displays of power. That's all better covered elsewhere, so I won't reiterate the arguments here. All I'm saying is: I think our headcanons were justified.

But it turns out he was this:

!!!

With his curly little--!!

And his neat white--!!

IT TURNS OUT, he was an angel who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty. Furfur, who knew him before the Fall, says:

"You used to jump on me back, little monkey in a waistcoat..."

(The use of a diminutive there, 'little'...oh, that fascinates me.)

In a pretty huge subversion of expectations, we're given these glimpses of an angel who was sweet, and joyful, and heart-meltingly silly.

In sum...an innocent.

(Perhaps innocent to a troubling degree.

We see how he troubles Aziraphale, during their first conversation. He starts looking around and behind them, checking to make sure that no one can HEAR the blithe and reckless things coming out of this angel's mouth. This angel who talks like he's never been reprimanded in his life; like it's never occurred to him that anyone would want to hurt him.

Before the Beginning, Aziraphale understood Heaven better than he did. The danger is plainly occurring to Aziraphale.)

So now, we the viewers are in on a cruel joke that Aziraphale has known all along, which is that this --THIS-- is the angel who--

*checks notes*

--did a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulphur. For asking questions.

...Imagine you are Aziraphale, and everything inside you wants to believe Heaven are the Good Guys, and God is Good and Everything She does is capital-R Right...and now try to reconcile that. Keep trying. I don't think he ever totally managed it in 6000 years.

All this gets further complicated when we learn that, despite all of the above, we were still right. That sweet excitable babby up there?

He WAS a powerful and high-ranking angel.

That much is explicitly confirmed, with significant evidence that he could have been among the mightiest of archangels...

...Who apparently accosted his fellow angels for piggyback rides. And was remembered millennia later by those (now fallen) angels as something 'little.'

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

Hell, Aziraphale has known to be wary of the archangels (and the judgements of Heaven in general) since before the Fall even happened. He chooses to believe they are Good; he can't fool himself into thinking they are Safe.

Yet he's absolutely certain that Crowley won't hurt Job's children. Enough to stand in a burning building and say to them, "I can't save you, but don't be afraid. I won't need to."

And what reason does he give?

("I know you."

"You do not know me."

"I know the angel you were.")

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

("The angel you knew is not me."

But how is Aziraphale supposed to believe that, when he can see him all the time?)

tl;dr --yes, this is better. I love the tragedy of it.

'Innocence died screaming' and all that.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #Crowley #Aziraphale #good omens 2 #good omens meta

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brain-rot-central · 3 months

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Pegging Your Vampire Boyfriend: A Beginner's Guide

A/N: This is exactly what you think it is. Kudos to @kittenintheden & Shaurbox for teasing this pegging idea with me over a month ago. It hasn't left my head since.

Rating: E, a very hard E Words: 5.3k Pairing: Spawn!Astarion/Fem!Reader Warnings: 18+, pegging, bdsm- soft!Dom Tav & sub!Astarion, bottom!Astarion, praise kink, ear play, size kink if you squint, inappropriate use of magical scrolls, oral sex - fellatio, anal fingering, anal sex, trauma mention, intimacy issues, verbalized consent, blood warning

Summary: Astarion has been on the receiving end before, but not since he's gotten with you. Wanting to try it again, he propositions you in a rather intimate way.

“Darling?”

A soft, questioning voice calls out from the living quarters of your shared home.

“I'm in the kitchen, love,” you respond. You're standing before the countertop, fileting a roast of beef into smaller portions for easier storage.

Wisps of bergamot fill your senses as the inquisitor reveals himself, arms wrapping gently around your waist. His nose dips into the crook of your neck, cool lips planting chaste kisses upon your skin.

“Oh, that smells divine,” he comments. Of course it does - it's a blood-soaked slab of beef. You laugh and lean your head into his, carefully slicing another steak from the meat. He covers the hand holding your knife and brings it carefully to his face, tongue lolling out to drag across the flat of the blade. He sighs in contentment as the blood soaks into his tongue, lavishing the flavor.

You wince as he releases the grip on your hand, gently placing the knife off to the side. I’ll need a new one, now, you comment to yourself.

“Is there something you needed, Astarion?” you ask him.

He hums low in his throat. “Hmm, yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.” He peels himself away from your back and stands straight. His hands are still on your hips and you feel his forehead fall against your back.

In a whisper, he asks, “How do you feel… about taking the reins?”

You turn your head to the side, cocking an eyebrow as you ask, “What do you mean? I was on top last time.”

Astarion laughs against your back, a puff of cool air passing over your clothed skin. “I know, love,” he begins. “I mean to suggest that… you play the part of me. And I… well, you.”

It takes your brain a few seconds to interpret his words, but once it finally comes together, you feel a blush beginning to creep up your chest.

“Oh!” you exclaim, now with full understanding. “A-are you sure? I'm not opposed to it, but I have to admit… I've never done it before.”

Astarion chuckles lightly, tightening his grip around your waist, placing soft kisses along the side of your neck. “Neither have I, my dear.”

You peel yourself out of his embrace, turning your whole body toward him. A scowl lines your face; you know of his history.

“Well, I-” he stammers. “I've been with men, yes; laid on my back a number of times for them.” Astarion casts his eyes to the floor before continuing, “I have never done… this, though. With a woman.”

Expression softening from his explanation, you turn your body again toward the counter, moving yourself over to the sink to begin washing your hands. “Are you sure you want to explore this?” you ask, concern evident. “That it won't bring back… memories?”

He leans against the opposite end of the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “There's no way to truly know unless we try,” he explains. “Though, I must admit, it's been on my mind incessantly, as of late.”

It's your turn to laugh, grabbing a hand towel to dry your hands. “Really?” you ask. “You've been thinking about me fucking you?”

Astarion scoffs, a scowl forming on his face. “Must you be so vulgar?”

You smile, moving toward him to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “I'd be your first?”

He sighs with an eye roll before saying, “Proverbially speaking, yes, you would be my first.” Astarion's hand comes up to hold your chin fast as he captures your lips in a chaste kiss. “My second first.”

You hum in satisfaction, wrapping your arms around his waist. He releases your chin and you rest your head against his chest. “So, how do we do this?” you inquire. “I wouldn't even know the first place to start.”

Leaning his cheek against the side of your forehead, he replies, “Not to worry, I've taken care of that already.”

“Astarion!” you exclaim, lifting your head from his chest.

He smiles as he meets your gaze. “I already told you I've been thinking about it!”

You lightly tap on his chest in a scolding manner before asking, “How did you know I'd even be okay with this idea?”

“I didn't,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders. “But even if you weren't, I'd still have something to play with later.”

Your face burns at his bold admission, images of him sinking said something into himself flooding your vision. You've never thought of him in that way before, but you quickly admit to yourself just how much it excites you.

“Hello?” Astarion asks innocently, waving his hand over your face. “Are you still with me? Have I given you too much to think about?”

“You're terrible,” you tease, peeling yourself from his embrace in a huff once again. Your face is as red as hot coals, head swimming. “When did you want to try this?”

Astarion cocks his head to one side in thought. “I was thinking tonight?” he answers. “Or sometime soon. Whatever works for you, love.”

Nodding your head in agreement, you say, “Alright, then. Tonight it is.”

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

Evening has fallen and you're fresh from the bath. You walk out into your shared bedroom, bathrobe wrapped snugly around your form as you dry your hair with a towel. Astarion bathed earlier as you cleaned the kitchen, telling you he would use the opportunity to prepare for your night ahead.

“Ah, there you are!” he exclaims in joy. “I've been waiting for you.” Dipping down into the drawer of the end table next to the bed, Astarion says, “There are a couple options we can choose from, darling.”

Astarion is dressed in nothing but his ruffled white shirt with the front laces undone, and his favorite pair of baby-blue and gold underwear. The hem of the shirt covers his underwear, giving off the illusion of wearing nothing underneath.

Standing up straight, he's now holding a tube of rolled parchment in one hand and a phallic toy in the other. “We have a scroll of Mystical Phallus,” Astarion explains, “or, your more traditional approach.”

You smirk as you run the towel through your damp hair, letting your bathrobe fall to the floor. Lifting your chin toward the direction of the parchment, you ask, “What's the deal with the scroll?”

Astarion clears his throat as the robe falls off your form, eyes quickly roaming over your newly exposed skin. He turns to place the toy back in the drawer, returning to meet your gaze before saying, “The shopkeeper explained it as ‘granting the caster a temporary phallus that's as close to the real thing.’ Not quite sure to what level it goes, but I'll admit - I am curious.”

“Alright, let's go with that one, then,” you decide, walking over to take the scroll from his hand.

You're not too familiar with magic, being a soldier and all, but you've used scrolls before. Opening the paper tube, you're relieved to find that the spell is a rather simple one.

As you recite the incantation etched within the scroll, a faint blue light envelops the room for a mere moment. The light fades, the scroll disintegrating, and you can't help but notice an unfamiliar heaviness between your thighs that wasn't there before.

“Oh,” Astarion comments, shifting his weight onto one hip, accompanied by a hand. “Well, that's rather generous.”

Looking down, your eyes drink in the source of your discomfort. Glowing blue, and well endowed, lay a cock. Your cock, at least for tonight. It juts up proudly in the air from between your thighs, seeming like an extension of your clitoris. Other parts, thankfully, have remained unchanged.

“...Oh,” is all you manage, continuing to survey the mystical length. “This… this is mine?”

Astarion walks over, lowering himself onto his knees in front of you. “It would appear as such,” he states. “And my, oh my, how beautiful it is.”

You scowl, meeting his gaze. You're suddenly uncomfortable, his eyes flitting between yours and your newly summoned appendage. “I don't know what to do, Astarion,” you admit in a hushed tone.

He chuckles lightly. “Touch it, love,” he says, reassuringly. “Don’t be afraid. It's your cock.”

Nodding your head, you bring a hand up hesitantly to brush over your new addition. “Ah!” you exclaim in shock, your fingertips passing over the bulbous tip. A familiar pulling sensation in your groin begins to stir as you bend slightly inward.

Astarion, looking up at you with wide eyes, asks, “So? How does it feel?”

You can feel everything, as if this has always been part of your anatomy. Each feathered touch sends sparks of electricity up and through you, snagging behind a peculiar spot in your lower stomach.

“Real, Astarion,” you sigh in disbelief, giving yourself a few more tentative touches along the shaft. “I feel like this is my cock.”

“Do you, now?” he quips in a sultry tone. “Is it okay if I do this, then?”

Your mind barely has time to register what he might be implying before Astarion drags the flat of his tongue up the underside of your ethereal summon. Your vision blanks from the sensation, nearly toppling over had Astarion not been bracing you.

“Wh-what was that?” you yell, nearly breathless.

Concern outlining his face, Astarion asks from below you, “Too much? We can stop, if you want.”

You shake your head in disagreement. “N-no,” you respond. “No, that's not it.” Placing a hand on his head, you brush his fallen curls out of his eyes, meeting them with yours. “If this is even remotely close to how you feel when it's me doing this,” you explain, “then I appreciate the level of self-control you maintain over yourself.”

Astarion hums in satisfaction, placing a quick kiss along your shaft before rising to his feet. “It's a lot, I'll admit,” he tells you. Your length jumps in response, and he smiles. “Especially how you suck my cock.”

You're barely able to respond before Astarion’s kissing you; soft, but passionate. His hands grab hold of your hips, drawing you in closer until your centers meet. You moan into his mouth as he repeats the motion a few times, your jaw going slack under his ministrations.

His arousal is evident through the fabric of his undergarments, though not quite there just yet. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, you roll your hips into his with vigor, a bolt of pleasure pulling behind your pubic bone. He groans, tangling his tongue with yours, and begins walking you back until you hit the wall behind you.

Astarion asks, “Do you want me to do that to you, darling?” breathily, breaking the kiss. A hand winds in your hair, pulling your head to the side as he licks a stripe up the side of your neck.

You shudder under his touch, grinding your length against his clothed erection again, searching for friction. “O-oooh-nly,” you groan, “i-if you want.”

Astarion pulls himself back entirely, tapping a finger lightly on your chest. “Ah-ah-ah,” he chides, “I asked you. I already know what I want.”

You close your eyes in frustration, hips involuntarily lurching forward in an attempt to catch more contact. You feel how heavy your cock is - painfully hard between your legs, desperate for release. It throbs in time with your clit, and you feel the wetness of your arousal beginning to gather at the apex of your thighs.

“Y-yes, please,” you gasp, thighs rubbing together in a hopeless quest for relief.

Satisfied, Astarion plants a kiss along your jaw, placing his hands on either side of your shoulders. “Good girl,” he purrs as he begins to kneel again. Tracing a line of kisses down your body, starting between the valley of your breasts, his hands move down to cup each within his palms.

Rolling the sensitive peaks of your nipples between his fingertips, your body jerks again, cock brushing ever so lightly against his chest as he continues kissing down the plane of your abdomen. Astarion, now sitting on his heels, braces his hands against your thighs.

He looks up to meet your eyes through full lashes. “Please tell me to stop if it becomes too much,” he tells you, genuine concern lacing his tone.

You hum in agreement, a hand coming up to tangle within the silver locks atop his head. Watching as he closes his eyes, Astarion licks again at the underside of your cock, base to tip. You shudder as his hand wraps delicately around your shaft, peeling the foreskin back. He takes a few tentative passes with his tongue along your frenulum, meeting your eyes momentarily to gauge your reaction.

Your hips buck and stutter under his tongue, a string of pleasured gasps and guttural moans slipping past your lips. The hand in his hair tightens as he takes the head of you past his lips, suckling softly on the sensitive gland.

It takes a world of restraint not to shove the rest of yourself into the inviting cavern of his mouth. Astarion must know this, however, as the hand still planted on your thigh moves to your hip, holding you still. He doesn’t leave you wanting for long, passing as much of your length into his mouth as he can manage, his hand following you down to the base. He flattens his tongue on the way back up, hollowing out his cheeks as he reaches the tip, only to do it all over again.

Knees growing weak, you push your back into the wall behind you to hold yourself steady. The hand in his hair slips, pads of your fingers passing just over the tip of his ear. Astarion moans at the faint touch, the vibration shooting up through your cock and spreading like wildfire throughout your abdomen. You perform the same motion again, and Astarion begins craning his head into your touch.

“A-ah-” he gasps, pulling himself off of you. “Darling, if you keep doing that, I-”

His mouth falls open in a delicate pant, eyes flitting closed as he works his spittle over your length with his hand. You continue toying with the outer shell of his ear, intrigued at this new discovery, and he rests his forehead against your hip.

“I never knew you had such sensitive ears,” you comment as you look down, watching him rub his thighs together as his hips buck up and down into the air.

With a drawn out groan, Astarion explains, “I’m an elf, my love. We all have sensitive ears.”

“Noted,” you respond, shakily bringing a hand down to join him along your shaft. You softly peel off his touch, lacing your fingers together. “I-I think I want to try something else, now,” you admit.

Smiling, Astarion slowly rises to his feet, cradling your jaw within his hand. His lips, swollen and soft from his prior activity, find yours; his kiss is desperate - hungry. “What do you have in mind?” he questions between quickly stolen breaths.

A fire swells within your core, and you're suddenly met with the same raging intensity and desire displayed in Astarion's kiss.

Hand tangling within his mess of moonlit curls once again, you pull Astarion’s head back, exposing the marble column of his throat. He groans when you drag the flat of your tongue over the apple of his throat, hips jerking into yours.

“I want to try fucking you,” you whisper into his skin, grinding your conjured length against his concealed erection to punctuate your intent. The coiling in your core winds tighter, but not enough to snap just yet.

As his weight presses into you, his hands grip your biceps for stability. Another roll of his hips and he sighs, dropping his head down to catch your eyes. “Are you sure?” he questions, breathless. “Because I'd really like that.”

With a nod of your head, your hands travel up under the hem of his shirt to settle on strong, narrow hips. Your lips meet again, the kiss just as ravenous as before, and begin walking you both toward the bed. When Astarion’s knees hit the edge of the bed, he gently falls back, with you quickly closing the distance above him.

“You needn’t worry about preparation,” he reveals as you lavish attention on his neck. “I took care of that earlier.”

He shudders beneath you as you mouth his scars. “Isn’t that part of this whole process?” you ask while hooking your hands into the waistband of his underwear, slowly tugging them down.

Astarion lifts his hips up and laughs, providing enough space for you to slide the cotton fabric down and off his form. “It is, but I figured it was gracious enough of you to entertain this idea,” he explains. “Prep for this is… well, intimate.” He averts your gaze for a brief moment, drawing a large breath in before continuing, “I would understand if it didn’t appeal to you.”

Removing yourself from his reach, you sit back over your legs. His face shifts uneasily at your sudden withdrawal. “Astarion,” you begin to tell him, “I’m not ashamed of your body. I want to explore this as a couple.” He’s drawn his legs together in a likely attempt at covering himself. You place a hand atop one knee, rubbing soft circles as you say reassuringly, “All of it, together. So, please. Let me?”

Astarion sits up with a smile, and rests his forehead over yours. “If you keep being this nice to me, I may just return the favor,” he says, light-heartedly.

“You already do, Astarion,” you tell him with a laugh. “Always the gentleman.”

His kiss is a quick peck over your lips as he tells you, “There's a bottle of oil in the bedside drawer. Grab it, and I'll show you what to do.”

You nod, sliding off the mattress and doing as instructed. Astarion moves himself higher into the center of the bed, sinking into the comforter and pillows. The bed dips below him as you climb back on, bottle of viscous liquid in hand.

“Pour some into one palm and rub your hands together, love,” he instructs. “This helps warm the oil.”

Popping the stopper off the bottle, you pour the cool, thick, opaque fluid out into your hand. You reapply the cork, placing it face up on top of the bedside drawer, rubbing the palms of your hands together. It takes a bit, but inevitably your body heat begins to seep into the oil.

Astarion lay before you, eyes beginning to hood over as he follows your hands. His legs fall silently open as his breath hitches for a mere moment. “Good,” he says encouragingly, his voice an octave lower. “Now, come here. Between my legs.”

You move in closer and note how the hem of his shirt is obscuring his cock from view. You can just make it out, though - it pushes against the fabric of the shirt, tenting it slightly and you swear you see a small darkened spot right where the tip of his cock lay hidden. Looking up, your eyes drink in how his collar has fallen to one side, sliding down and off his right shoulder, exposing his collar bone. Astarion normally wears this shirt with the sleeves rolled up tight, yet today, he's chosen to wear them loose.

His hands, half covered by the cuffs of his sleeves, envelop yours in a gentle embrace as he guides your slickened fingers to his core. Astarion stills for a moment, and you look up to find him staring back at you.

There's an expression on his face that you’re not immediately familiar with - it's not fear, excitement, or lust, really. Yet, the longer you study him, recognition begins to dawn over you.

It's the same look you've given him countless times before on this very bed, having thrown caution to the wind as you entwine the very fabric of your souls together.

Astarion is… submitting himself. To you.

Something majorly delicate, knowing his past.

You know of what he was forced to endure while being compelled into submission.

The barrage of lovers who cared not for the person below them; who saw him only as a means to an end. A quick pump, a cheap lay, a tool to scratch a nagging itch.

“Some people refer to the moment of climax as ‘a little death,’” he’d once told you. That was before you knew just how many he'd lead to their actual deaths.

True to form, Astarion's words are often double-edged blades. His mind dances constantly on the edge of pleasure and shame. You see it in his face, now. He’s standing on that precipice, knowing not whether to jump head first or step back.

You swallow thickly and stare back at him, unblinking, before saying, “You can always tell me if it becomes too much, and I will stop.” You pause for a brief moment before adding, “Pleasure is my only intent, Astarion.”

A smile graces his lips as he welcomes your fingers to make first contact with his entrance. “Oh, my dear,” he says with a sigh, “I’ve never doubted that about you.”

Leaning over him as you press the pads of two fingers teasingly against his tight ring of muscle, you kiss him. Astarion groans softly into your mouth, his hands coming up to cup either side of your face as he arches into the kiss. He’s grinding down lightly into your fingers, meeting each of your chaste touches against him.

“How many should I start with?” you ask softly, breaking the kiss for a brief moment.

“Two,” he answers, voice but a whisper against your lips. “Whichever ones you want.”

Humming into his mouth, you begin pushing your fingers into his entrance. Astarion’s breath hitches as you breach the perimeter, shoving his head back against the pillows. He instinctively tries closing his legs around you, though you hold one open with your free hand.

You still your movements, giving him a chance to adjust to the intrusion. “Is it alright?” you ask him.

Astarion nods his head as he moves a hand under his shirt to toy with a nipple. “Yes,” he huffs out. “I'm more than fine, love.”

Emboldened to the task at hand, you move, gently pushing and pulling your fingers within him. You feel his muscles contract around you and you briefly wonder if this is what he feels when he's inside of you. The thought sends a bolt of pleasure to your cunt, reverberating as a twitch of your cock.

You look down to watch your fingers as they work him open, and finally see his cock laying against the plane of his abdomen. Compared to the pallor of the rest of him, his length is flushed pink and red, and you can make out the labored beating of his undead heart as his cock thumps softly against his stomach. Pre-fluid seeps from his tip, gathering in a small puddle just below his navel. Bending down, you catch a small rivulet rolling off his hip with your tongue, tracing it back to the source. Astarion shudders under you, threading his free hand through your hair as he pushes down onto your fingers.

You're beginning to understand that this isn't too different from your usual sexual encounters with one another. It's truly just a mirroring of your typical positions. Out of curiosity, you curl your fingers upward in one particular pass, and his entire body spasms beneath you.

“Fuck, darling, yes… You've found it,” Astarion groans out, labored. The grip in your hair tightens and he begins fucking himself in earnest on your fingers, a string of moans falling from his lips as he passes that same spot over and over again.

Your cunt aches and your cock throbs watching the scene before you. To see him unraveling before you, submitting himself to the pleasure of the moment is intoxicating. His legs have fallen open again and you watch, diligently, at how easily your fingers glide in and out of his core.

“I- I need more,” Astarion suddenly chokes out. You meet his gaze and through lust-hooded eyes, he says, “Please… let me ride you.”

He's pleading, you notice. Begging. Your eyes travel down his form again, drinking in the wanton display of him splitting himself open over your fingers. Your cunt throbs; you think of nothing else in that moment but pulling out your fingers and replacing them with your cock.

To hear the delicious whines, the sobs, the cries that would surely tumble freely from Astarion's lips as he came undone around you. You want this, just as much as he does.

Pulling your hand free from his entrance, Astarion sobs as you crash your lips into his. “I'd love that,” you tell him, honestly.

Astarion begins to sit up, concentrating on never breaking the kiss you share as he aids you both in switching positions. You lay back, him straddling your lap mere moments later. He grinds his taint against your conjured appendage, your shafts brushing, and he cries out in a gentle moan against your lips. He breaks the kiss, reaching for the bottle of oil on the bedside table, dribbling some onto your cock.

With a few languid strokes of your mystical length to spread the oil and he lines himself up over you. Your eyes meet and you hiss through clenched teeth as your tip kisses his entrance, feeling the pressure slide over your glans as he slowly begins to take you.

“A-ahh,” Astarion pants from above you, still holding your cock steady in one hand. You sigh as you feel yourself push past the first ring of muscle, throwing your head back against the pillows. Your hands grip at his thighs as the sensation threatens to overwhelm you, fingertips likely to leave bruises that will be gone come morning.

Once he feels confident that you're nestled far enough inside, he releases his hold on your shaft, resting the palms of his hands against your lower stomach. He continues to slowly take you further in, words in a language you're unfamiliar with spilling from his mouth, until he's flush against your thighs.

Both of you freeze in that moment - you struggle to control your ragged breathing as he flutters around you, Astarion taking a moment to adjust to this foreign, but not unpleasant, sensation.

“H-how do I feel?” he asks in a hushed voice.

Truthfully? He feels… astounding. Tight, wet, and warmer than you would have thought for a vampire. When he lifts his hips, you feel the air being pulled out of your lungs. His walls drag deliciously along your shaft, and a nagging pull starts to build behind your navel.

Your mouth drops open in a silent gasp as your eyes meet his through hooded lids. “A-amazing,” you pant out. “You feel so good, Astarion.”

He moans above you, his head falling to one side as he rolls his hips over your cock. His shirt hangs off one shoulder, the hem obscuring his cock again from view. Though, you feel its weight slap against your stomach with each lift and drop of his hips.

Astarion’s voice comes out strained when he says, “Tell me again… please.”

You feel your cock twitch within him; he clenches around you as he locks eyes with you, waiting patiently for a response. Strands of sweat-soaked hair stick to his face, and on one particular stroke of his hips, you brush up against that place inside of him that forces his vision to blur at the edges. His mouth begins to salivate.

“Please, please, please,” he begs impatiently, voice an octave higher now. He's practically sobbing, spearing himself over your cock so each roll is angled to hit his prostate. You meet his thrusts from below, coil winding tighter within your abdomen as his walls continue to massage your cock.

You're not going to last much longer.

“You're so good for me, Astarion,” you say, obliging him. “You're being such a good boy.”

Astarion's mouth drops open as he bows his head forward, his entire body dipping down over you as a shudder passes through him. “Yes,” he whines, rocking back on your hips with renewed vigor. You feel his cock lay flat against your abdomen in this new position. It drags over your stomach, pre-fluid dripping from his tip and onto your skin providing an easier surface.

I am! And beautiful - not enough people mention that.

His words from long ago echo in your mind as you drink in his expression. He's gorgeous above you; handsome to begin with, but as he slips further toward toppling over the Cliff's edge, his beauty is quickly becoming amplified as he continues to lose composure.

“You’re beautiful like this,” you coo to him, lifting a hand from his thigh to rub over an ear.

Astarion's body is wracked by yet another tremor as he cries, “Darling, if you don’t-, I will-, I'm going-!” His head nestles into the hand toying with his ear and his hips pump erratically over your cock, having lost his prior rhythm.

You suck in a sharp breath, jaw clenched as Astarion becomes impossibly tighter around your shaft, and you groan. You're so close, so very close that all you need is one more thing to push yourself over the edge.

“Let go, Astarion,” you say, somehow finding the rhythm in his desperate rutting. The sound of skin slapping roughly fills the room as your hips meet his on his downstroke. You wrap a hand around the outline of his cock tenting his shirt, and jerk him in tempo with your thrusts.

He’s sobbing, loud and unabashedly. With one particular pass of your fingers over the outer tip of his ear, Astarion suddenly unwinds. He yells his pleasure above you, collapsing onto your chest as wave after wave overcomes him. You feel his spend seep into the fabric of his shirt and onto the skin of your abdomen in a small warm pool.

It doesn't take long for the involuntary spasming of his core over your cock to send you spiraling into your own completion. Moans slip freely past your lips and you feel your folds become soaked, drippinh down the cleft of your ass as your relief washes over you. You bury your face against Astarion's hair, breathing in his soft silver curls and the signature cologne you know so well.

As you both begin to come down off your highs, you wrap your arms around his back and hold him tightly against your chest. You feel the spell of the phallus lift, Astarion whimpering softly as it vanishes from within him. You both lay on the bed, panting, trying to catch your breath for what feels like ages.

Astarion is first to lift up his head and say, “That… that was amazing.”

“Mm,” you hum in agreement. You can barely open your eyes as fatigue begins to set in.

Taking a finger, Astarion traces circles absentmindedly into your skin as he rests his head back down over your chest. “Darling?” he asks softly. “May I tell you something?”

Sleep almost has its claws in you when you jolt back awake, forcing your eyes to snap open and find Astarion. “Hmm?” you groan in question.

With a quick huff, Astarion says, “I just wanted to thank you for doing this with me.” He places a quick peck below your jawbone before adding, “It was really nice.”

You sigh audibly, and say “It was, we should do this again.” Your eyelids are impossibly heavy; sleep is threatening to claim you and will do so in mere moments. “I love you,” you manage to mumble out before slipping gently out of consciousness.

Astarion smiles into your skin as he says, “I love you, too,”

I love this, he thinks.

I love us.

#astarion smut #astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #astarion x female oc #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic #bg3 #fanfiction #writing

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nocreativityfornames · 10 months

Text

Mammon: Wait, wait, wait. So you're tellin' me that if Lucifer had been nicer, you would've never tried goin' up in the attic a second time?

MC: Yeah.

Levi: Wait, what? How…?

MC: Alright, look. There were two reasons why I wanted to go into the attic. One: I was hearing Belphie's voice from there asking for help, and two: Lou was acting suspicious as fuck about it with the whole threatening me and shit.

Lucifer: I-

MC: Shh, let me explain!

Lucifer: …

Belphie: Pff…

Satan: So what, you're saying that if Lucifer hadn't acted the way he did, you would've just given up? No trying to go into the attic, no suspicion, you would've just ignored Belphie's voice and went on with your day?

MC: Absolutely. I mean, think about it: I had just gotten here, and someone not wanting a stranger to go into certain parts of their house is kinda reasonable. And like I said, it wasn't the "not letting me go there" thing that made me want to go there, it was the suspicious behavior!

Because again, you threatened me and just started being an overall dick after you caught me trying to go upstairs.

Lucifer: MC-

MC: But I understand your reasons, you were worried, wanted to protect your family, and bla-bla-bla. Don't worry, it's fine. We've come a long way, I love you, you love me, and there's that. But going back to the topic…

Asmo: 🤭

Lucifer: 👿

Asmo: 😦🤐

MC: So the point is, you catch me going to the attic, and you threaten to kill me if I try doing it again. You don't try to explain, don't try to convince me I shouldn't go there, you just go: "I have this tea that will put you to endless sleep, muahahahaha."

All brothers (except Lucifer): *try not to laugh*

MC: And in my head, I go: "Bet. Imma see what the fuck's up there, and you old man, you ain't stopping me."

Asmo, Beel & Mammon: 😨😦😳

Belphie & Satan: *wheezing in silence*

Lucifer: *glares at them*

MC: But that could've been prevented! Like, if you hadn't threatened me, and tried to explain why I shouldn't go there in the first place-

Lucifer: I couldn't tell you the truth.

MC: Well, you could've come up with anything! Because remember, I had just dropped here, in literal fucking hell. So you could've told me literally ANYTHING and I would've believed you. Like, you could've just told me the room was cursed by an evil spirit or something. Because I'd hear that and go: "Alright, have a nice day. I'm never stepping foot on these stairs again."

Beel: Pff...

MC: But nooo, Mr. Pride had to go: "I won't give you ANY explanation, and I will KILL you if you try going there again." And that combined with the strange voice asking for help? It did not give you a great look, I gotta say...

All brothers (except Lucifer): *already laughing their ass off at this point*

Lucifer: …

Belphie: Wow...

#MC coming out with the FACTS #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me post #obey me crack #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me #silliness overload ⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+#☙ no creativity for names ✾

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antiherotheantisocial · 1 year

Text

hm...villain era 👹🖤🧌🪨🪰🦠

'i love deep convos' shut the hell up what the hell is a deep convo what y'all even talking about the unexplored shit in the ocean?.....what's down there 🫣...my soulmate?...heaven???....hint hint wink wink nudge kick 🫣 wait...it couldn't be.....i thought...since y'all're always talking about it i thought.......no....it actually exists???........they found.....PUS-😳😳😳???

the thing i like most about myself is that i'm honest with myself. i'm never too harsh, never too relaxed, never too overtly understanding nor allowing, but always tolerant enough knowing that i need room to grow.

i really don't think love will happen to me which is why i'm so against that entire toxic positivity notion....i think love devoid of intentionality towards the specific person may perhaps be a...type of love....but it's not what i want and it is never good enough for me. it never has felt like it's ever enough which makes me loathe it all the more and if anything it's always left me pathetically desperate for more..

i think it usually makes my paranoia worse actually. i don't like when people pity me and that's what so much of how showing love is discussed.....like you pity them. like they can't do it on their own. i don't like when people attempt to do it subtly either. i actually think that's worse and it makes me even angrier faster. who caaaaaaaaares leave me aaaaaalone....

i complain a bunch about yearning but i don't really mind it i don't think. i feel safer yearning than letting people hurt me because i can never be good enough for them even though they never want to be honest about that. i'm honest about it so why can't other people be honest about it too? it just sucks knowing a person more than what they know of themself...i think a lot of people never really, honestly and truly....sit with their feelings and question why they want to challenge certain things about me. it feels like the pity thing again, wanting to fix me but i've tried and tried and tried once more endlessly... and i'm not traumatized in any way and there was never a clear cause for why i turned out this way which means you need to accept that i can never be your little pet project....i think when i warn people off it probably...looks like a self-fulfilling prophecy but i think it's just being honest about my past and how i've been treated before. like i know people like you and they don't enjoy me so i probably wouldn't be recommended for you to spend time on. how is that in any way rude of me? and anyways, i don't like giving people who never intentionally cared about me that control to fuck with my already fragile ego.

i think it's fine. i'd rather be lonely than look like a fool lmaoo...i think it hurts because i make it so easy to love me but no one of whom i've wanted really ever......tried.. so maybe i just like coming here dumping my depressing ass feelings knowing that no one really cares and if they do there's nothing they can do to fix it.....so what? so you don't like my blog because i'm secretly guilt tripping everyone that attempts to speak to me on here??? 🥺 why is no one ever on my side 🥹🙃😢

an aside, but i hate the word fickle. decide that you want to love me. don't do it solely because you feel like it. if you actually knew what love was you'd be willing and wanting to do it when you don't feel like it too absolute fucking piece of shit. i want love for me not just simply because i'm a human. anyhow i wish i could type fuck like one of those death metal fonts you know that's how this entire aside makes me feel. grrrrrrrr RAWR. hehehe that too omgggg 🥰💞💕💕💕

ok bye. 😐

#sorry for posting on my blog it's just that i haven't been getting the attention i want. maybe i should leave it to my sideblog lololololol #like i want to post but i feel like because there's such high speech of the acclaimed'bond of mutuals' i have to appease to y'all..#when like half of y'all don't even like my blog 💀💀#anyways if i end up softblocking you sorry i probably will lurk after the fact because i do care....but lmaoo #lol i love how immediately once i feel bad i start posting manipulative ass shit hehehe #i'm so tired of not having a mutual to be in love with i hate you all.#i mean i will regret this because it's not that serious but i won't because it's not that serious.#lmao if i saw someone else making this post i'd be like damn calm down go outside but it's me and i have in fact..been outside.#wait i think i've said before how i know it's like impossible but i want the option to block people from following me back #it's like a fucking pity follow lmaoo you don't even like what i post booooooo get outta here!!#like........i'd rather have someone interact with 15 of my posts and not follow than have someone never interact with anything i post...#i'm not even like......posting my own content either so i feel like that makes it worse.......#if you pity follow back explain why 🫣 do you feel obligated to follow back.......i don't get it...#lmaooo actually i feel like someone would read this and think that it's because i'm chronically online but #i think the opposite is true. why would i monitor someone i don't care about when i have free time?........#does that even make sense?.....to me it doesn't...........#yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawncore bye ✌️😐#anyways as usual if you ever see me having a breakdown just ignore me i will be a complete asshole about it but #i am just fishing for attention even tho i don't actually like nor want it heheeeee ;)))))))))#god it sucks. wanting attention but hating it and wanting praise but hating it yessssss girl never be clear in your wants 🤩🤩#🚨‼️ bad bitch alert ‼️🚨 having cconfusingly onflicting wants???? yesssssss girl go AWFF 🤩😍🤩😍🤩😍🤩😍🤩#ok that's it bye i guess 😐#aaaaaaaand scene!#were you entertained 😐#damn not the typo too 😳🫦💦🥵🥵🥵#my period is about to drop sometime soon probably. i mean the other times i've done this just cause but i'll use any excuse i can get 🤪🥦#this is very much.....hm............ew of me..😐....

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