#just know that my experience on here has been so absolutely lovely. I am so grateful

[vidavalor]

The pub scene is even funnier when you consider that poor Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets has likely had this longtime pash on Aziraphale and, like everyone on Whickber Street, he has no idea who exactly The Ginger Goth With The Old Car is. He knows the prevailing theory is mafia but Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets has seen Ginger Goth hanging around Mrs. Sandwich and her "Sandwich Shop" and also around the bookshop a bit and also some naked guy was also at the bookshop recently, so... what's the likeliest conclusion drawn by Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets? That the old bookseller's lonely and paying for it.

He sees them come into the pub and thinks Aziraphale is classy like that and is taking the sex worker for a drink first or maybe that's part of it-- he's gone the whole 'boyfriend experience' route. Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets sees Aziraphale with that chest stroke of that Thin Dark Duke he's paying and while Mr. Brown (of Brown's World of Carpets, just FYI) isn't here to judge and gets it as he's lonely, too... and while he does think the bookseller picks some hot ones... he wants to give Mr. Fell the real thing. The kind of love you can only get between two middle-aged, still-sorta-closeted queers like they are. He'll be someone the bookseller can talk to and find some genuine chemistry with, Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets will be, so he decides to shoot his shot and knows the bookseller is skittish from their past interactions, so he goes for the meeting option. He'll have to come over to drop off the chairs, of course. Give them an excuse to talk more, alone, when Mr. Fell is not, erm, entertaining.

And poor Mr. Brown--President of the Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Traders Association, Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets is-- fine, upstanding, boring as all holy fuck fella... He's met by Crowley coming over with drinks and a greeting that says this is neither the first time, nor, he doubts, will it be the last that he's had to Husband the bookseller but again, Mr. Brown of Oh, You Know By Now thinks this is a bit, so he's not intimidated.

"I was just absolutely hitting on him for real, unlike you," is what he basically told Crowley when explaining what they were chatting about.

And Crowley's like lol you got him flustered enough to host this meeting. Good on you, Mr. Whoever the Fuck You Are from Whatever Shop You Run. Look at you *go*. 😍 I've got a new favorite human, Aziraphale.

He's all "you astonish me" to Aziraphale, teasing him like you're leading the poor, balding bastard on, angel. I know it's hard for you to reign in your divine sex appeal but you should maybe try. His heart is only human, after all.

Mr. Brown still thinks Crowley's a sex worker though so he doesn't give up and is all like remember, Mr. Fell, our date is right after work on Thursday in a group setting to set you at ease but I'll see you first to set it all up because I want you and I want to make sure you know I'm not just here for the business meeting.

Crowley: That's it-- I'm adopting you, Ballsy Mr. Carpet. I like your style. But you'll never wear my angel down. We've been married for 6,000 years. I am definitely up for saving you from some demons on Thursday though and making it rain on you and literally any fruity, single shop owner in the greater metro area next season. You're on the deck after my shop lesbians. Now piss off, Mr. Barnes. We haven't been to the pub in ages and you're in my seat.

#ineffable husbands #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #mr brown #of Brown's world of carpets #good omens 2 #aziracrow

[empty-movement]

Chiho Saito’s 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection

IT’S HERE. IT’S DONE. IT’S FINISHED. NOW…IT’S YOURS. Happy Holidays, my friends.

Vanna here! I have posted some already about this project, and the responses I got, public and otherwise, have been absolutely incredible. Y’all have been reblogging and hyping this before it even finished…I haven’t felt so encouraged about an Utena project since the musicals! (Yes, streams soon, I promise.) You can read the other post to get more details, and catch my post here with more details about the process if you’re interested. The long and short of it?

This is the first artbook I ever scanned. I did it in 2001. In Photoshop, using multiple scans per page that took hours to process. But it was 2001. A half megabyte file that was 1250px wide was considered extremely hardcore and impressive. That’s just always been the business I’m in when it comes to Utena art, you know? 

It’s now the latest artbook I’ve scanned, and so much of the process, and effort involved, is unchanged. What has changed, is the result. Welcome to your new desktop background. Your new phone background. Your new poster print. 

What I’ve done here is attempt to create definitive digitized images of Chiho Saito’s work as offered by this book--I have removed the print moiré of the original scans, and used my literal decades of experience to try and tease out as much information from them as possible. Without being physically in front of the original artwork (which is a thing I’ve had the great fortune to get to do) this is The Most Chiho Saito you are ever going to get. I’ve tried my best to make sure there is a way to get it that works for everyone:

Do you just wanna scope 'em out? Look at some disaster gays? Grab your favorite one or two? This is the path for you! Check out the ‘compressed’ (not very) 10k ‘web friendly’ (not really) copy at the Bibliothèque, the media archiving wing of the Something Eternal forums at Empty Movement*. All the following links are also available from here. Do you want these copies? All of them? Don't just grab them individually, friend. This batch is 375MB and can be downloaded as a zip of the individual files here on our Google Drive.

Do you like digital archiving? Are you looking for a copy that preserves the archival quality of the effort but sits nice and comfy in a single file? This is for you. A minimally compressed 10k, 513MB version worked into a PDF is now up, shiny and chrome, on the Internet Archive. Do you like the idea of the minimal compression, but want the individual files in a zip? Yep I did that too, here's the drive link.

Are you looking to print these in a larger size? This is probably the only reason on Earth you’d ever want them, and yet a bunch of you are going to go straight for these. Here are the zero-compression JPG full size copies, most of them are 15k across, like simply a ridiculous size. Pick your fave and download it from our Google Drive! 

I am genuinely really proud of this work.** I was able to tease out so much new detail from these…her incredible layering techniques, the faintest brush of her highlights, and the full range of her delicate hand at whites and blacks… details commonly lost in digitization. I sincerely hope you find something here that you’re looking for, as an artist looking for inspiration, as a weeb looking for a desktop, as an archiver excited to see incredible 90s manga artwork saved forever in the digital realm. I feel like I have already said so much about them, and could keep going, but you know what? This work speaks for itself. Enjoy, use, explore, and definitely tell us what you think!

We love y’all. ~ Vanna & Yasha

* AHEM ASTERISK AHEM

You might be wondering what any of that is. Something Eternal? Biblewhatawhat??? EmptyMovement.com? You might even have done a double take at the word ‘forum.’ And you should!!!

I have a confession. This artbook was my ‘side project’ as I worked on this, *the main project.* For a couple years I’ve been banging around with a new domain, and originally I had other plans for it, but Elon Musk ruined my Twitter and Discord is well along on its way to enshittification, and well….we joke on the Discord a lot about ‘reject modernity, embrace forums’ and you know what? We’re right. So Yasha and I are putting our money where our mouths are once again, and doing something insane. We are launching, in 2023, a website forum. Obviously, this is not the official ‘launch’ per se, but I cannot announce the artbook without directing you to the forum, since it sits on the attached very cool gallery system. Oops! Told on myself. Another post more focused on the forum will be forthcoming, but if you are just that motivated to get in right away, you absolutely can! (This will help stagger new arrivals anyway, which is good for us!) If you would rather wait for the ‘official’ launch, by all means that’s coming, including a lengthy screed about how and why we’re doing this. In either case, remember: this is a couple weebs trying to make internet magic happen, we are not website developers by trade. Give us grace as we iron things out and grow into this cool new website thingie…hopefully along with some of you! :D

If you do join up, naturally, there is a thread about this project!

** If you like this kind of content, consider helping us pay for it! We do have a Patreon! If you’re wanting to use these in some public-facing distributive way, all we ask is for credit back to Empty Movement (ohtori.nu or emptymovement.com, either will work.) 

I would like to say ‘don’t just slap these files on RedBubble to get easy money’ but I know that saying this won’t effectively prevent it. Y’all that do that suck, but you’re not worth letting it rain on the rest of this parade. :)

#revolutionary girl utena #utena #rgu #sku #empty movement #chiho saito #90s manga #digital archives #manga aesthetic #shoujo kakumei utena #utena art

[readychilledwine]

Size Kink

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

A Size Kink is a general term for being aroused by being smaller/larger than your partner. It can be height, muscle mass/weight in general, cock size, ect. This is generally a kink we associate with subs having, but in my humble 5'1" experience, I've met more Doms with this kink than subs (hence my 5'11" baby daddy who thought he'd never have someone short enough to enjoy this kink with.) This kink has several subgroups that fall into it and sex acts that fall into it, but my personal favorite to write is height difference and body frame difference. So tall muscular male, short female (curvy or lean.)

What I love about size kinks is that it's so focused on specific aspects, and ANY body type gets to play with it. Little hands? Little legs? Luscious curves? Member of the Itty bitty titty committee? There is someone out there with a size Kink who is into your body and thinks you are a piece of artwork and sexiest thing on the planet. It's so beautiful because it is a body type kink that does not discriminate, and as a sex positive and body image positive person, I think that's super important and comforting for some people.

💕Peep the Valentines Day list here💕

As always NSFW below the cut

Azriel x short!reader

Warnings - reader is VERY petite, smut, p in v, slow stretching

A/N - So, I actually have a request for a size Kink with Cassian sitting in my drafts as well from before I decided to do Valentines Day Bingo. Since I picture Cassian as an absolute unit, I used a more Megan thee Stallion vibe for that reader (tall and thick) so I decided to go very short and thinner built for this one to ensure they'd be different. I apologize if that bothers anyone. I will try to get that Cassian request finished asap to post it and make up for this 💙

Ps- with how quickly I am cranking some of these out, and how.... spicy some of them are getting, I don't have my normal outside editing all of the time. Baby daddy proof read this one. Before staring at me and going, "that wasn't fair." So, I apologize for any errors, as always, I will catch them on my fresh reread after it's posted 🫠

Azriel was slowly losing his mind as he watched you use a chair to be closer to Cassian's height and argue with him face to face.

You were just so… small. So little compared to the two Illyrian males. They towered over you. They dwarfed you. Hell, he and Cass had discussed several times how easy you'd be to manhandle, considering they were both so sure their large hands could almost touch if they were wrapped around your waist.

At 6’8” and 7’ it wasn't hard for him and Cassian to own a room or be the tallest males, but Gods when Azriel stood next to your 5’ frame, when he saw Cassian pick you up like you were no more than a doll. It did something to him. It made him feel like a God, like he was powerful, possibly invincible.

He had been further spurred on by over hearing you and Nesta yesterday. She had asked you about how, if the opportunity presented itself, you would manage to fuck an Illyrian, and you, you with your never back down attitude had told Ness, “Mountains were made to be climbed.” He did not know if you had meant that in regards to him, but his hand found his cock quickly that night.

Azriel walked over to where you and Cassian argued over cereal. The fight wasn't serious, but he just needed to remind you that even with a chair below you, you still fell a few inches short.

“Get down before you fall and hurt yourself, angel.” He put a hand to you, offering to help you down. You glared, but put your hand in his.

Offering to help you was a mistake.

He felt the blood rushing to his cock as your little hand sat in his.

He shared a knowing look with Cassian when you looked away to step down and get back on the floor. The argument resumed instantly, your hand still in his.

It stopped as soon as Nesta walked in. Her mate and you going silent and agreeing to disagree.

Well, at least you thought you had agreed. Until Cassian turned around, Nesta in his arms waiting to fly into Velaris. He looked between you and Azriel before smirking. “You know, y/n, you might have shit taste in cereal, but at least you're the perfect height for some things.”

You didn't get it until you turned to Azriel, plush lips parted to ask what Cassian meant.

The blush that spread your cheeks was sinful.

Another image Azriel would save when he imagined it was your mouth around his cock tonight.

Azriel's room was across the hall from yours, so he knew you were being subjected to the same torture he was.

He was sure all of the Night Court could hear Cassian and Nesta. He rolled over to his back, throwing an arm over his face and sighing.

You were so small, so sneaky, he hadn't noticed you come in and shut the door until you were sitting on his bed.

And fuck being in his custom made oversized bed made you look so little. “Hello angel.”

He made room for you, welcoming you under the blanket you laid facing him, watching him. “Do you all never.. get worn out?” He chuckled. “Because humans do. Males typically finish, then they're like, done, and asleep.”

He looked towards you, laughing and smiling so hard his dimples were showing. “Is that your way of telling me you didn't enjoy rolling in the sheets while you were human?”

That blush spread your face again. “I had plenty of fun before Hybern did this to me. Thank you very much, sir.”

You had done it. Azriel shut his eyes, growling at the nickname as he did. “You cannot call me that when you're laying in my bed, y/n.”

You looked at him, snuggling closer to him. You knew what you were doing to him. You had known for a while. You always tracked his eyes when he'd watch you take your heels off, biting his lip thinking no one was looking. You noticed him hide his arousal behind a mask of indifference when you would climb things around the House of Wind. You had also noticed Azriel and Cassian taking every chance they could to lift you.

You had even know Azriel was so sneakily listening to you and Nesta the other day, and you had meant it. Azriel was a mountain you intended on climbing. “Of course, sir. Wouldn't want you to have to use those big hands to keep me quiet.”

The growl that echoed through the room had your thighs clenching. He was on you in an instant arm between your breasts, so it rested on your neck. The other hand sat on your hip, inching forward. “Do not tease me.” You could feel him pressed against your back, mind immediately lost in how that would fit.

You may have been biting off more than you could chew.

But fuck it.

You had never backed down from a challenge. Why start now?

You wiggled further into him, grazing his cock with each movement. “What if I'm not teasing? What if this is an offer, sir?”

“You're going to regret that, little one,” Azriel's hand immediately was in your shorts, his other hand squeezing your throat. A thick finger ran your soaked core, pulling a moan from you. “Going to have to go slow,” Azriel ground his hips into you, needing that friction on his aching cock. “Don't want to hurt you, angel.”

That one finger entered you without warning. It was already a stretch, but one you welcomed.

You loved how everything about Azriel was so big. His hands, his muscled chest and arms, his wings. Of course he'd be big there too. Anticipation began to replace the fear. You relaxed into him, tilting your head and pulling him into a heated sloppy kiss.

Azriel swallowed your moans and cries as his finger opened you up for him. You were tight, so damn tight. His hand moved from your throat to your breasts, loving how they weren't even a handful for him. You were so petite and slim, he reminded himself. He pulled your tank top off, maneuvering the best he could to get you fully below him. He pushed in a second finger, watching as you squirmed so helplessly below him. “So fucking little,” he moaned. “Mother above you're perfect. Just perfect.”

He leaned back, fingers increasing speed the best they could with your shorts in the way while he toyed with your breasts, pinching your nipples and smacking the tender flesh as he saw fit. “Cum for me so I can sit you on my cock, angel. You can do it, y/n. Show me how tight you'll be squeezing around me.”

You felt like you were floating as you came, whimpering Azriel's name as you watched him rut against the mattress for some friction, hazel eyes damn near lost in lust.

He pulled his fingers out of you, wasting no time ripping his sweatpants off and using those juices to coat himself. Your shorts came next, torn to shreds as he pulled you to the edge of the mattress and rested one leg on both sides of his chest.

He was as perfect as you imagined. His cock was long and thick. He was running it along your folds, soaking up at the slick he could before smacking the head of it against your clit.

Azriel could help but to stand with his hips flush against yours, admiring how it looked like his cock would be damn near in your stomach. “Gonna go slow,” he mumbled as he positioned himself at your entrance. “Can't risk hurting my little angel.”

He pushed the head in, keeping an eye on you as you moaned out a long fuck before relaxing into his bed. He sat there, only a few inches inside of you, feeling as your walls stretched out to accommodate him.

He pulled out and slowly reentered, pushing a little more inside of you. Your back arched off the bed, a whimper of pleasure ripping through your throat. The burn of it felt so good. You felt yourself drooling already, mind numb, and lost to anything that wasn't Azriel.

He continued his motions over and over until he was flush against your hips, and you were screaming for him. You had cum just from him slowly getting inside of you, and now he could see the bulge he had created, the slight swelling inside of you as your body made room for him.

Azriel put a hand on the bulge, feeling himself inside of you as he began thrusting. You were squeezing him so tight, hand struggling to find him to hold on to something.

He felt himself losing control, pace growing faster and faster as he watched you squirming and moaning below him. His arms went behind your hips and back, lifting you off the bed and manhandling you in the air for a little while. He brought you to his chest, moving you to be against the wall that shared his room and Cassian's.

A silent brag, and message, that he could now accurrately inform Cassian how easy you were to toss around like a doll.

Your hands found purchase on his shoulders as you became a babbling mess. Your silky core was twitching and tightening around him all over again, indicating to him how close you were, how ready you were. “Az,” you panted. “So fucking big.”

“Yeah,” he kissed the top of your head. “Bet it feels so good stretching you out, doesn't it, baby?” You couldn't respond as a certain angle had you becoming pliant in his arms. “Fuck I know it does.” He was practically lifting you on and off of him, watching as you stretched around his cock. “You're close, aren't you, angel?”

You nodded, eyes glazed over and jaw fallen open to the perfect o. “Gonna cum.”

“Then cum. Squeeze my cock. You wanted to climb the mountain, right y/n? Fucking climb.”

You hit that peak on his command again, clinging to him tightly as he continued using you and stretching you out.

It took Azriel a few more moments, but he stilled inside of you, head thrown back in a loud growl as he came inside of you. He pressed you back against the wall, panting slightly as he stared into your eyes. He lifted you easily, allowing his cock to fall out of you and you to whine at the sudden emptiness that took place where he had filled you.

“This can't be a one-time thing,” his voice was almost desperate as he moved to set you on the desk, forehead finding yours. “I need more of you. All of you.”

You couldn't help but to bit your lip, nodding so quickly with a growing smile. “I like how little you make me feel. How safe you make me feel.”

Azriel's eyes almost rolled back completely as they shut. “Gods you are perfect.” He leaned in to kiss you, only to be interrupted by his door slamming open and Cassian and Nesta barging in.

A massive wing snapped between you and them, blocking your body from their view.

Cassian cleared his throat before speaking. “We want to know how exactly that worked. Show us. Please.”

“Show you?!” Your voice cracked as you turned to a smirking Azriel.

Azriel kissed your forehead. “Bend over the desk, angel. Gotta give him a show since he asked so nicely.”

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb  

@justasillylittlegoofyguy

Azriel Taglist:

@elle4404

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #shadow daddy #readychilledwine valentines day bingo

[gay-dorito-dust]

🍮could I request hsr Astral express boys + penacony boys (not Gallagher tho) with a very teasable s/o bcoz they flinch and blush whenever they initiate physical touch or kiss them.

It's not like the s/o hates it, it's just they not used to it so every hug and kiss or touch is very electrifying. Would the boys tease them to hell and back or be very sweet and gentle and understanding to take things slow? 🍮

Me being dumb and not knowing whether ratio would be considered a part of the trio but he’s here either way regardless…

Aventurine:

Takes pride in the fact that he has so much power over you by doing something so small as kiss your cheek or even hold your waist.

It’s an absolute power trip for him in knowing this little secret of yours and he will be unforgiving about it too, plus your reactions were just so cute for him to give up now.

‘Good morning my dear.’ Aventurine say softly as he pressed a kiss to your neck, smiling upon feeling you tense beneath his lips and chuckles. ‘Still reacting like this after we’ve been together as long as we have? How adorable.’ He practically purrs as he burrows his face into your neck and strengthens his hold on your waist despite your noises of complaints.

‘Aventurine.’ You whine, burrowing your burning face into the pillow. ‘Knock it off.’

Aventurine pulls his head out from your neck and rests it against your shoulder as he could practically envision the steam coming from your ears. ‘I’m not doing anything though.’ He says cheekily as he presses a kiss to the underside of your jaw, nipping at it a little in order to hear you squeak. ‘I’m merely expressing how happy I am now that you’re awake.’

‘Yes you do.’ You said as you tried to borrow your face deeper into the pillow out of a need to hideaway from Aventurine and his knowing gaze, ‘And aren’t you enjoying this far too much.’ You add as you felt your face burn even more upon hearing him laugh in your ear.

‘No, I think I’m enjoying this the right amount.’ Aventurine says as he presses a kiss behind your ear and cuddling himself further against your back, taking far too much self enjoyment in making you a flustered mess to his heart’s delight.

Ratio:

Nothing gets past this man, nothing.

He’s immensely observant and will catch on quite quickly on how you’d practically freeze up when he shows you any physical affection. And he secretly loves the reactions that you give in response to him merely brushing shoulders with you.

Veritas treats this as a mini experiment of sorts and will run this excuse into the ground if it meant getting to see you either melt or become flustered to the high heavens from his touch.

‘Interesting.’ He would mutter under his breath as he slowly runs his fingertips up and down the back of your hand with featherlight caresses, all the while you were trying your hardest not to pull away per his instructions when agreeing to help with his study. ‘How very interesting indeed.’

You breathed out an uneven sigh. ‘What’s so interesting about my reactions, wouldn’t this sort of thing bore you?’ You asked as your attempts at hiding how much his touch was affecting you were failing by the second.

‘Not necessarily.’ Veritas said as he started caressing the inside of your wrist and pulse point as his eyes remained on you, closely examining your face for even the most minuet shifts in your expression. ‘If anything I find them to be rather-‘

‘Let me guess, interesting?’ You butted in a moment of cheekiness and immediately regretting it when Veritas stopped stroking the inside of your wrist and moved his hand to cup your jaw, lifting it so that you’d have no choice but to look at him directly as he leant in close to your face, his nose touching your own.

‘Yes, very. However I’m sure we can find some… unique ways to fully experience the full extent of your reactions to my touch.’

Sunday:

He finds it amusing seeing you flustered from him simply kissing the back of your hand or guiding you down the streets with a firm hand on the waist.

He’d gladly use this against you in times where he was feeling particularly in a teasing mood as your cute reactions fill him with a sense of pride knowing that only his touch could get those kinds of reactions out of you.

However he didn’t want you potentially passing out from all his teasing and would take it slow for your sake by asking permission to mitigate your tendency of easily being taken off guard somewhat.

It really depends on how he’s feeling that day and that only makes him more unpredictable, which meant you were more often than not kept on your toes when this happens, much to Sunday’s enjoyment.

‘Is my dearest at a loss for words already? And I’ve barely even touched you and you’re flustered beyond compare.’ Sunday would laugh after pulling your hands away from your face after kissing you on the lips in greeting. ‘How adorable.’ He adds as he presses you against his chest.

‘I’m just not use to…all this.’ You defend yourself.

‘I know.’ Sunday coos as he gently lifts your head by the chin to look at him rather than square at his chest, pressing a reassuring kiss to your nose. ‘It’s not something you should be ashamed of as it just means that no one was willing to give you the love that you deserve. So I will make up for what others sorely lack in droves.’ He adds as his wings fluttered in determination.

Welt:

An absolute gentleman who’d gladly go slow and help you become more acquainted with physical touch.

When he first kissed your cheek and heard you sharply inhale and become rigid, he genuinely thought he did something wrong and possibly hurt you in the process, and was about to apologises profusely until you told him that you just weren’t use to physical contact of any sort.

‘I merely wish to not put you in any form of discomfort.’ He tells you afterward as he gently holds your hand in his own.

‘You’re not, I’m just not use to stuff like this just yet.’ You said as you gestured to your interlocked hands with a soft smile, you always found Welt’s need to prioritise you and your comfortability above all else endearing and extremely sweet, so much that you often find yourself getting flustered from that more often then the physical contact itself.

‘Then we shall go slow.’ He replies, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

And slow you did.

Welt always tells you what he was going to do beforehand so that you wouldn’t be taken aback by the sudden display of affection, which does help in some regard but you still get flustered from the way in which he held and or kissed you.

His hugs were strong, comforting and warm that you felt like you could fall asleep in his embrace, but you knew you’d be more likely to burrow your face into his chest out of habit as you let out a muffled sorry.

Welt didn’t mind, the man was made with unwavering patience.

‘It’s okay my dear.’ He says as he chuckles, rubbing your back soothingly. ‘Theres no need to apologise, we’ve got a lot of time to try again.’

Dan heng:

Much like Welt, Dan Heng would think he hurt you somehow when trying to hold your hand and was quick to drop your hand and apologise, only for you to stop him before he could and tell him that physical contact wasn’t something you were use to.

From then on Dan Heng has been taking it slow, so extremely slow that it was more frustrating than not when all you wanted him to do was hold you in his arms, but he was treating you as though you were made out of porcelain.

He was sweet about the whole thing, but was probably overthinking it and or trying to follow Welt’s example by showing unwavering patience. You had to remind him that it was okay for him to touch you, hug you and so on if he so wished.

‘Then…is it okay if I kissed you?’ He would ask not long after, which made you wonder whether the reason he hesitates was because he was waiting for your permission to do such things.

‘Of course, you don’t need my permission to do so but I appreciate where it’s coming from.’ You replied as you felt his hands slowly cup your face and linger there so you could become accustomed to his touch, before resting his forehead gently against yours as he leant in for a sweet, slow kiss.

Dan Heng takes these things in stages because he too can get easily flustered from an overload of affection, so he understands your situation better then most but also doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries you may have; Which often times makes affectionate moments between you two come across more stifling and slightly awkward but you’ll get there.

And when it does? It becomes a little ritual for you two to share a kiss or two before missions, and or link pinkies when you’re both feeling unsure and just need to feel one another.

It’s extremely cute.

#hsr imagines #hsr imagine #hsr x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #Honkai star rail imagines #Honkai star rail imagine #dan heng x reader #Dan heng imagine #Dan heng imagines #welt x reader #welt Yang x reader #welt Yang imagine #welt Yang imagines #aventurine x reader #aventurine imagine #aventurine imagines #sunday x reader #sunday imagines #sunday imagine #veritas ratio x reader #veritas ratio imagine #Veritas ratio imagines #hsr aventurine x reader #hsr sunday x reader #hsr dan heng x reader

[jewelleria]

I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be. 

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate. 

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified. 

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map. 

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle. 

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more. 

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop. 

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments. 

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on. 

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not. 

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways. 

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine. 

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war. 

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this: 

I am a Jew. 

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love. 

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners. 

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee! 

Then they sent me this: 

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die. 

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind. 

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake. 

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired. 

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people? 

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews. 

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like. 

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for. 

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war. 

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why. 

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be. 

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller

Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer

What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins

The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman

The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman

How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner

This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press

Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss

#palestine #israel hamas war #israel hamas conflict #hamas #on war #essay writing #personal essay #rant post #stop terrorism #israel #writing #palestinian lives matter #jewish lives matter #jewish and proud #jewish identity #jewish muslim solidarity #on grief #on religion #antisemitism #anti zionisim #purim 2024 #chag purim sameach #judaism #israeli palestinian conflict #am yisrael chai #kvetching #jumblr #mims on middle east #המצב

[flanaganfilm]

Do you have any “don’t meet your heroes” stories from working in Hollywood?

Absolutely. Hollywood really is a place like no other. If you grow up loving cinema, certain people can take on mythic status in your imagination. Actors, filmmakers; they are larger than life. They become idols in the truest sense - an image that is actually worshipped. But Hollywood is actually full of very weird human beings who have been lucky enough to make their living in a world of make-believe. A huge percentage of the people who work in this industry are strange birds, unsuited for working anywhere else.

Some of our biggest stars wouldn't last ten minutes working a real job; some of our most exalted filmmakers collapse inward if they're in a crowded room. They can have unusual talents, or beauty, or unique perspectives and abilities that have propelled them to various levels of success, or even stardom, but they're just normal, neurotic people.

And success, fame, and money can really twist people. It can be like radiation. They can go full Gollum from it.

But most people who work in Hollywood are not stars at all. The vast majority of people who work here are not rich, not famous. Most are hardworking craftsmen and craftswomen who are fighting every day to make a living, scraping by the best they can in an industry that is brutal, impersonal, and impenetrable. But every single person in this business - whether they are superstars or not - are just ordinary people. They're insecure, anxious, and prone to all of the failings we mortals are prone to. Some of them are awesome; some of them are assholes. But most of the people here (even the superstars) quietly feel like they don't belong, or that they don't deserve it, or that their sheer ordinariness will be discovered any minute. In fact, it's the people who seem to feel the opposite - those rare people who feel that they DO belong here, and deserve the lifestyle this industry can afford, who are inevitably the least likable ones I've met.

As I've been lucky enough to keep working in this business, I've met a lot of the people who I idolized along the way. Filmmakers and actors who I admire so much, whose work has shaped the trajectory of my life without them knowing it. I've been starstruck every time, and I am still am - I stammer, I freeze, and I kick myself for what I say, or don't say, or how I said it. I'm not good at it. I have acute social anxiety, and when you throw me at someone I admire, I turn into a blubbering idiot. They say "don't meet your heroes" because you may (likely will) be disappointed by just how ordinary they truly are. Or worse, they may even turn out to be people you wouldn't want to interact with in normal circumstances - your heroes might be people you wouldn't want to invite to coffee. The persona you have admired is a product in itself, something you bought, something you have taken home and displayed proudly in your imagination... but the human being behind that persona is full of all the ordinary failings. That can be really hard to reconcile. So yeah, a long-winded way of saying that I've had the experience of meeting people I admired a great deal only to be disappointed, or worse. I've got some nightmare stories in there where the actual person violently shattered the idol I'd built in my imagination. I won't share those stories, there's little point in that, but instead I'll talk about the rare exceptions - the few heroes I've met who were every bit as awesome as I'd hoped they'd be. They may say "never meet your heroes," but they haven't met Mark Hamill. I worked with Mark on The Fall of the House of Usher, and he is one of my favorite people. Kind, generous, humble, and so, so funny. I was nervous and excited to meet Mark for the obvious reasons, because of the hero he was in my imagination - but I got to meet Mark the actor, the father, the husband, the humanitarian, and the friend. Guillermo Del Toro - one of my biggest heroes, his work has meant so much to me. And I was terrified to meet him. But he is one of the most joyful, honest, sweet-natured people I've met in the business, and his love for movies is infectious. For me, the man himself exceeded the myth.

I've been lucky to meet other exceptions to this rule, heroes of mine who exceeded my expectations - Ewan McGregor, Mick Garris, Brian Henson, Heather Langenkamp, Henry Thomas - and yeah, I've had the other experience too. But I try to focus on the exceptions. It can be unhealthy to idolize people - unhealthy for you, and unhealthy for them. But it's truly awesome when someone is even more amazing than you imagined.

#never meet your heroes most of the time #except Mark Hamill

[kalims]

Hi, there! :D

I don't know if my request will be taken into account but you mentioned that it's okay to try.

I am not throwin' away my shot >:D (sorry my indoor theater kid comes out from time to time)

Type: Headcanons

Reader: Neutral

Scenary: The NCR boys see that a student from Noble Bell College or RSA who has been trying to flirt with the prefect, in a bold move steals the prefect's (first) kiss. How would they react and what would they feel?

I feel like it would be a rollercoaster of occurrences and complete chaos in NCR xD

If my request does not convince you, you can discard it without problems, but if not, take your time and without pressure, thank you 💐🌼✨👍✍️I love your TWST fics they always make me smile .

whisk away

premise. despite your many efforts of evading your seeming admirer, they remain persistent in their pursuit. you've considered just leaving them in the dust without an explanation whatsoever but you're too stunned to process the fact that they've just kissed you without a warning. next thing you know there's a murderous aura approaching.

characters. silver, jade, deuce, kalim, vil

note. you didn't really specify which characters jhshs so I took the liberty of scouring your blog and just put the ones you seem to like ^^ and I kid you not, used a wheel for the other 2 lol (so sorry, was gonna post this earlier but got busy since presentations came up so I only finished now.)

silver

has a mixture of shock and anger. which is mostly for your sake honestly, he wasn't gonna intervene cause he felt like you would wanna deal with it on your own so he feels the absolute mortification slipping into his bones. if he wasn't fully awake, then he definitely is now!

fully ready to talk some sense into that idiot who has no sense of space, hello?

last time he knew, you weren't really dating anyone. silver would know if you did, cause you both talk practically everyday and a lover would be something he should be aware of... unless you didn't talk? I mean, who else would just kiss you like that?

someone unpleasant. he decides. one look at your face and he knows immediately that it wasn't something you expected as well.

just pulls up with a rare look of anger directed to the student, brows furrowed, shoulders tense and all. everyone's used to the serene, calm look on his features so seeing him look so different probably put off said student so they scampered after a promise made by silver if they dared to stick around.

"leave, or find out what happens if you don't."

gone is the anger *poof* and is fretting over you now. are you okay? do you want him to knock some sense into that idiot? literally tell him anything, order him to do anything, and he'll do it (within reason) my guy is just here for your sake tbh.

kinda gloomy cause damn, that was your first? he wanted both of yours to be first and some grade a hole just decided to shatter all that. it makes him all the more irritated so if he can't have your first kiss, he'll just take your second, and every single other kiss you'll give.

jade

take the murderous aura and multiply it tenfold!!

jade doesn't really need to reach you and make his presence known by a few words cause it seems like everyone but you within 10 feet radius of him is sensing the murderous aura he's emitting. if it's not feeling that, then it's seeing the eery dark smile present on his face.

and he seems to be having a death march towards a specific direction so everybody knows where to avoid atleast. cause it seems like anyone on his path is gonna get trampled and no one likes a messy hall.

student in front of you pales, deluding themselves that maybe he's just heading somewhere behind them to vent out that rage or something but they glance behind and almost piss their pants when there is in fact, no one present near anywhere and he's getting closer.

so... they wanted to live so they just bolted out. an experience with one of the tweels won't be good news, and if jade is the one who has them in his sights... they'll take the head start thank you very much.

with the students face memorized and tucked into a corner of his mind he smiles almost innocently at you when you spot him and strike the most casual of conversation.

well, that's under the guise atleast. he's shooting you subtle questions about that person to which you reply innocently. oblivious to the grave you're digging for them yourself.

oddly enough jade started being strangely affectionate, a hand on the small of your back, maybe on your shoulder, arm, or a pat on your head as gratitude. but he seems to like kissing the back of your hand a lot...

*turns his head in their direction after kissing your hand*

deuce

I'll be perfectly honest. he doesn't really have much of an impact in terms of the intense aura that should have been felt. he looks a normal degree of angry, that's why the person hasn't gotten chased off even with the clear signs that deuce will be swinging a fist at probes.

unfortunate that's exactly what the person does. despite your clear reaction of disgust they still use you to rile up deuce. cooing at him while reaching for you, and chuckling about how they didn’t even know him, nor is it any of his business to interfere between two... lovers?

oh so they wanted to impact? they're gonna get one right now 👊 since it seems like they want to get to know him so bad they can get well acquainted with his fists, you know?

he made a promise to himself not to get involved with these type of mishaps! or at the very least resort to more peaceful methods than using violence as a sort of communication. the guilt eats him up a little but he thinks he'd never stand for someone who would disrespect you so blatantly!

almost comically, he looks like he spouts a pair of ears that of a dog's and turns to you. looking more apologetic compared to the fiery look he had a second ago, if he had a tail it would be tucked between his legs out of shame or something.

"I'm really sorry," he says. sulking. deuce apologizes to you, not for his choice of knocking out this random in the middle of the street but because of the fact that he did it in front of you. (also he's kinda jealous...)

if asked, he can, and WILL do it again.

don't blame him though! discreetly whisks you away to grab a bite. having literally no regards to the body looking like it's soul got knocked out laying, and looking out of place on the ground. maybe someone will check on them but definitely not him, they deserve it!

kalim

gasps loudly. "noooo!"

which is like a public proclamation that seeing that did everything but please him. which also means he's basically admitting he's jealous in an indirect way, might as well just say he likes you or something (he probably will if asked because he thinks it's nothing worthy of hiding.)

bounds up to you asking who that is quite loudly to the point where it would seem like he just stumbled upon you cheating on him. it doesn't help that he actually looks sad, teary and all. jamil is off, having paused in his trail since he was previously chasing the boy who ran off.

now he isn’t sure if he wants to get involved now. this is so embarrassing.

lowkey other student would just look back and forth to you, then to kalim. the latter in question unintentionally ignored his existence to be honest, since he was too busy shaking your shoulders and probing the answer of you.

"why would you kiss a stranger...?" he trails off, you did answer. kalim is genuinely wondering to himself if it was that easy cause damn, he scratches his head. that made no sense (says the guy who is making no sense.)

he makes it so obvious that he's pondering with the finger under his chin, eyes lost pointed at the air and the unnecessary loud humming... at this point the atmosphere became more awkward because you and the student is staring at him in bewilderment.

drag him off please, and explain it to him elsewhere. public is NOT a good place. so instead of him saving you out of a situation like this, you save him? talk about being built different...

vil

what in the sevens... he surely hopes his eyes are working correctly lest he needs contact lens, or glasses for that matter. either way he'll positively be as beautiful as he ever was.

although he's very pleased that someone notices the extent of your beauty, there are... other ways to express fondness admiration for you, and vil just can't respect someone who doesn't seem to have any shame for themselves for pressing on boundaries.

so this... fool clearly is a mere taint on your image!!! rid of them immediately! you needn't dirty your pretty mouth, rook does love cleansing the world of dirt like them so it's for the better good if they just never dare to appear to your face ever again.

what better way to hurt someone than aim for their pride? *trash talks so good about their attitude that they actually be pondering their life choices*

don't get him wrong. he doesn't like them, like at all. vil can full well do more damage by nit picking details about them they probably aren't even aware of but he'd never willingly give another person a reason to be insecure about themselves, even if they did terrible things.

plus, there's better ways to teach someone a lesson. they'll learn.

who wouldn’t be scared of an angry vil? they scampered away pretty quickly from a few words, even quicker when he mentioned rook but it's their problem to be paranoid whether the hunter is following them or not to be honest.

frets over you right after. living the dream.

#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed ! #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fluff #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #silver x reader #twst silver x reader #jade leech x reader #jade x reader #deuce spade x reader #deuce x reader #kalim al asim x reader #kalim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #x gn reader

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Can we get the obey me boys(the brothers + dia, barbs, solomon, and simeon) reacting to mc having severe period cramps? Would they get all demon-y at the smell of blood?

Love your stuff btw!

Signed, a yandere junkie~

I'll do two for now 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Period | Yandere Obey Me

For those in the devildom having a draw for chaos and mortal pain it’s quite normal for blood to bring about a different kind of reaction. But to the surprise of no one period blood and the whole menstrual cycle is a complete bafflement to all who catch a whiff. Don’t worry though, you have the brother and your various friends. This surely won’t strike any of them to have an unusual streak in emotion and self-control, right?:

Lucifer

“It’s that time I’m suspecting?”

“Yes.”

“Understood rest easy, take your time to rest my dear.”

“A-are you sure?”

“Of course I'm sure. Do you doubt my promise to keep you?”

One of the most casual about it 

He absolutely has done research for this exact occasion

But nothing is like experience in taking care of you himself

As well as the compulsion that has him being just as reactive as you

“You seem a bit different today Lucifer…”

“Am I? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oooh is that a gift from (Y/n)--”

“dON’t ToUCh tHaT!” 

“...”

“...”

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s with me this week.”

You’re not with him that’s what

For all the necessities he delivers he’s been keeping his distance

Taking the advice of the human care books he gave you your space

After all who better to deal with the human-female innerworkings than a human-female herself

But something feels wrong more than usual 

And it only seems to stop when he returns to your side at the end of the day

“Perhaps the hormones that are at work in you create a…guardian of sorts…out of me.”

He doesn’t really understand, all he knows is that when you were preparing to go to RAD he frantically calmly decided you’d not be attending

His excuse reasoning? That he would hate for any lesser demon to feel what he’s feeling 

That and he’d actually try to kill anyone who shows such similar inclination to protect you

“If anyone should stay to soothe you in this great time of need. I’m not above massacring any threats to you while you’re at your most vulnerable..” 

Generally he’s quite tame

…compared to his brothers

Diavolo

“Hey (Y/n) why’d you run off like that I thought we were having a good time.”

“Diavolo!?”

“Oh…hey (Y/n) if you’re hurt it’s okay to tell us we have tons of things that help heal humans.”

“Ugh! No that’s not what’s happening here!”

“Don’t be embarrassed here i’ll help!”

“Aghghgh!!!! Barbatos! Barb–Ah! Don’t you dare!”

A scolding and prompt lesson from Barbatos is very much in order

For someone so adamant on urging the blending of their worlds he doesn’t really know about this side of humanity

And unfortunately he’s never been one for backseat learning

“(Y/n), we’ve spoken and Diavolo would like to propose a hands-on-lesson with you about your menstrual cycle.”

“Uhm what kind of lesson?”

“One that will require he familiarize himself with all aspects of this process. Something that would preferably stimulate the five senses.”

“....”

“....”

“....Lucifer!!!! Solomon!!!”

Even better it has to do with you

What better way to strengthen your bond by having to monitor you

Not only for your safety but for all of humanity

“Hey later on we should definitely watch that movie together!”

“Oh yeah I thin–”

“I’m sorry but she cannot!”

“What why not?”

“Because she’s coming with me! The best place for a woman on muenster cycle is with me at the royal palace.”

“Uhm that’s not tr-”

“Here I’ll take you now!” 

He’s going to be hard to teach

But once you sit him down or snap at him one too many times

He’ll decide listening to you is the best course of action

In turn it will definitely build a relationship between you two

It may not be as romantic as he planned

But he’ll take it….for now 

After all there’s one every month

“That was fun! I can’t wait until the next time!”

Because he’s actively testing for it he might find some demons and creatures that react to it

But he won’t actively experiment with you in danger

Because it’s just not a good look to brutally murder every other subject of his that has a reaction he doesn’t like

“Next month I’ll have to convince them to let me get a swab or whole container full that’d be really hot.”

#yandere obey me #yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #obey me shall we date #yandere obey me lucifer #yandere lucifer #yandere lucifer x reader #yandere diavolo #yandere diavolo x reader #yandere obey me diavolo #yandere obey me shall we date

[javelinbk]

Here it is, Beatle People! The official 'Insane Things Paul Has Said About John' list, as created by the people of tumblr. I hope this is a useful supplement to the original McLennon iceberg

Sources under the cut:

“He was a very cool boy” (@javelinbk)

"Whenever other people do that it always reminds me of John" (@javelinbk)

"We put our names next to each other in our school exercise books" (@beatlepaul4ever)

When was Lennon at his best? "When he was asleep." (@didwemeetsomewherebefore)

"A delicious broth of a boy" (@zilabee)

"A lovely little baby, John was" (@mallowedheart)

"Daddy's room" (@pauls1967moustache)

"We’re songwriting together even if we’re not together" (@midchelle)

"John seemed like some sort of emperor in control of it all" (@blondecasino)

"I'm trying to get my son to have a son and call him Lennon, and then he'll be Lennon McCartney" (@peaceloveandstarrs)

“John and I had millions of fabulous little experiences in Paris” (@divine-sphinx)

"We used to have wanking sessions" (@merseydreams)

"You can be heterosexual and be having a homosexual dream and wake up, and think, 'Shit, am I gay?'" (@skylikeaflame)

"It was a place called Menlove Avenue. [Pauses] Someone's going to read significance into that: Paul and John on Menlove Avenue. Come onnnnnnn" (@s-l-martin)

"I slept with him a million times" (@s-l-martin)

"A wild and woolly genius who it was my pleasure to work with, walk with, talk with, and occasionally sleep with." (@didwemeetsomewherebefore)

"In bed" (@i-am-the-oyster)

"Well, I’m sure Brian was in love with John, I’m sure that’s absolutely right. I mean, everyone was in love with John; John was lovable, John was a very lovable guy." (@whenyourbirdisbroken)

"Dear friend, throw the wine, I’m in love with a friend of mine." (@heartsinthebasement)

"We got very drunk and cried about how we loved each other" (@nikidontsurf)

“Then also we were like married, so you got the bitterness. It’s not a woman scorned this time, it’s two men scorned — probably even worse. And I had to make way for Yoko. My relationship with John could not have remained as it was and Yoko feel secure.” (@thefortunateisle)

"If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and…" (@alienoriana, @majinmelmo)

"You just don’t hang around with your ex-wife" (@javelinbk)

"No, I have a lot of dreams about John, and they're always good" (@notgrungybitchin, @skylikeaflame)

"This (painting) is John’s Room. It just looked to me like John, when he had his long hair and then his cloak or whatever this is. Then I just scratched in that, looked like one of those drawings John used to do. You know his funny little men. So then I called that John’s room … If I’m gonna see a face in a painting it’s highly likely to be his." (@foryouwereinmysong)

"I wish I had sat and just hugged John all the time when we were together.’ (…) I’d just sit around and hug him forever. That’s the depth of my feeling for him" (@theoldmixer)

“Here Today - a love song to John” (@javelinbk, @bluewater9)

"So if you've got someone, you want to tell them you love them, just get it said, don't wait" (@lennon-gal)

And honourable mention for the following stories:

Stalking John all over Liverpool until Ivan officially got them introduced (@only-a-northern-soul)

He’s been telling himself and the whole world that nobody cared about writing songs and his music before he met John. He knew George Harrison. (@greatsaladavenue)

Quitting his job to commit to the band aka explicitly picking John over his father (@adriansfrombrooklyn)

Writing "Here, There, and Everywhere" by John's pool while waiting for him to wake up and write with him alone in his attic (@aint-that-kind-of-blog-bruv)

Taking the one photo of him and john from that night with the cursed pictures with jane and then blowing it up and hanging it in his office at apple (@pauls1967moustache)

Taking LSD so he could join John in his potentially bad trip (@scurator)

The time he vaulted over a table because another man was touching John and Paul had to physically intervene (@scurator)

#kind of heartbreaking seeing them all in one place #but also insane #some of these are even more insane in full context so I suggest you read the full quotes for maximum impact #paul mccartney #john lennon #john and paul #mclennon #insane quotes

[mossfrg]

Jersey Gotham

Okay as someone born and raised in Jersey, I feel like we as a fandom are missing out on truly Jersey-ified Gotham. Like, c’mon, Jersey Girl Brucie Wayne??? So here I am to present a list of things I need more of because god damn it make Batfam— mostly Bruce, Jason, Tim, Steph, and Duke— Jersey (all based on my own personal experiences/real things that have happened to me):

Bruce cannot pump his own gas. He just. Doesn’t know how to. It’s not like a rich person thing, he just never learned cause he’s from fucking Jersey and never leaves Gotham. Jason didn’t know how and Talía lost her shit “How??? You are child superhero??? Who died and spontaneously came back??? But you can’t pump gas??” Tim kinda knows cause of Titans but again, he never really had to. (There’s a Twitter threaded dedicated to the Wayne family titled “is this rich or Jersey”). Steph and Duke can but they both pretend not too.

There have been fist fights over whether it’s pork roll or taylor ham. Jason and Bruce are very adamantly pork roll like the good Southern Jersey boys they are— it’s the one thing they can agree in most days— but Tim is taylor ham. Steph and Duke, despite being South Jersey, like to cause chaos and flip sides constantly. Dick, Damian, and Cass couldn’t care less.

The Absolute Hatred of New York/NYC. Doesn’t matter which kid it is, Bruce (and Alfred) got them all on board with this. Don’t even get them started on the Statue of Liberty; it’s a Wayne family tradition to try and buy it from NY because technically it’s more in NJ than NY and it’s closer too. They’ve yet to be successful but Bruce has hope for when it’s Damian’s turn.

And bc of this hatred of NYC comes the support of Philly!! None of them are super big sport fans, but they do cheer for Eagles, 76ers, and Union. Bruce, thanks to Alfred, is a big fan of soccer (“it’s football, master Bruce, I didn’t raise you in a barn”), and is a member of the Sons of Ben. He can be found in the River End of the stadium with Jason cheering for Union at pretty much every home game. There are multiple videos of Brucie Wayne and Jason Wayne screaming at refs, launching fireworks off the roof, and cursing out opposing teams’ players. Duke and Tim can be found 76ers games, while Steph frequents Eagles games.

Accents. Pls for the love of god give those boys (and Steph) accents. They are from New Fucking Jersey. They say “cawfee” and “tawlk.” They pronounce 0% of their t’s in the middle of words— kitten is ki’en, Trenton is tren’in. Jason and Steph drop letters when they gets pissed, Bruce slurs words, Duke and Tim drop passive-aggressive “y’all’s” to piss people off.

Driving. Now it’s not that they’re shit drivers, it’s that everyone else is a shit driver, and it’s not helped that majority of them learned to drive in the Batmobile. Steph has a loudspeaker on her car and frequently yells “fucking Pennsylvania turn your goddamn blinker on!” while driving. Bruce has a room in the manor dedicated to his speeding tickets. Tim as gotten into multiple fists fights at lights because people were driving slow in the fast lane. Jason is infamous for doing the Jersey Slide.

Jason, Tim, and Steph have gotten mugged before. They talked their way out of it and gave tips to the mugger. Bruce has kicked a rabid raccoon while walking home before because what else was he supposed to do? Duke has ordered a “pork roll egg and cheese on an everything” before in Not-Jersey and cried because they don’t have it. Several foreign benefactors of WE have asked for translators at meetings with Brucie cause Brucie’s accent is so thick and exaggerated. IN CONCLUSION: making Batfam (and gotham) Jersey is funny as hell and presents so many good opportunities. Make Batfam Jersey! (again these are all just my personal experiences, big state yada yada, different experiences, blah blah idgaf I jsut need batfam fist fighting over pork roll)

#batfam #richard grayson #bruce wayne #brucie wayne #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #duke thomas #cassandra cain #alfred pennyworth #gotham #Please make them Jersey #Gotham is literally in Jersey #Make batfam jersey #Yes I did kick a raccoon once worth it

[norris55s]

the feels - oscar piastri

kpop idol reader x oscar piastri social media au

a/n: if anyone has requests lmk! i’d love some inspiration

a/n: it’s a fun concept to think of the most normal guy in the world dating a kpop sensation. let’s ignore that dating is taboo in the kpop world and i fully made up an f1 calendar for this lol. face claim is sana from twice. 🫡 ps. we absolutely love seeing oscar win his first (sprint) race

————————————————————————

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, mclaren, y/nusername and 405,027 others

oscarpiastri: Japan has been great. (Yes, I had to go to Y/N’s concert.)

view all 1,852 comments

piastrinorris: oscar is a kpop fan? not on my bingo card

y/nmaniac: it’s the Y/N impact 💕not kpop, Y/N

papayaworld: i am genuinely asking, who is Y/N? i don’t know her

sugarrushy/n: she is a japanese kpop idol who is very big, specially recently bc of her viral single OMG. you should listen to it!! she also has other underrated bops

————————————————————————

y/nusername

liked by oscarpiastri, alphataurif1, yukitsunoda0511, and 1,027,399 others

y/nusername: i didn’t know racing cars could be so much fun! thank you wearelenovo for the invitation to the formula 1 lenovo japanese grand prix, and alphataurif1 for receiving me so kindly!! 😺😺😺

view all 5,038 comments

mclaren: You should come around our garage sometime, we know there would be people happy to see you in papaya orange 🧡

81lover: mclaren being oscar’s wingmen, we love to see it

ln4op81: LMAO, feeding on the oscar x y/n hype. in their defense, oscar’s post race interview didn’t help

himboscar: blud literally said “i almost hoped i wasn’t racing so i could go meet her but she saw me on the podium” and hoped we’d just let that go

————————————————————————

mclaren

liked by oscarpiastri, y/nusername, landonorris and 706,829 others

mclaren: We had to re-invite y/nusername to the Monaco Grand Prix for the McLaren experience. We think she’s having a great time and we have great results to show her.🫡🧡

view all 1,037 comments

y/nusername: thank you for having me😽🧡

oscarpiastri: Hype papaya girl 👧

mclarenussy: u got this, rizz her up

therealpiastri: he doesn’t have it don’t lie

y/nheart: honestly it’s pretty cute how he references her songs lol

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y/nusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, somsomi0309, and 1,037,824 others

y/nusername: the ETA world tour is over! 😿💕 i had the most amazing time seeing all bunnies around the world, and experiencing all the new things this beautiful planet has to offer. i’m looking forward to doing it all over again forever!!! i’m so grateful to everyone who made this tour possible, from all the crew, to the stylists, to the dancers, and as always my bunnies. here’s to the future!! 😻💕

view all 4,025 comments

oscarpiastri: 🎊🎊

piastricutie: baby get up

y/nusername: tysm for coming✨😺

landonorris: actually upset i wasn’t invited

y/nusername: next tour for sure 🎟️😼

y/ngirly: she’s snatching mclaren boys like pokemons and we love that for her

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f1waggosip

liked by 104,027

f1waggossip: The streets are saying our Oscar Piastri has actually managed to bag his girl crush, Y/N L/N, and her recent Instagram where she is using the same outfit she was pictured with hugging the Aussie in Italy seems to confirm it. She also posted a story of a beautiful dinner date. We likely will see her in the Monza paddock this weekend, after months of reportedly beginning their relationship long distance due to her tour and Oscar’s races.

view all 1,024 comments

maniacpiastri: holy FUCK

formulay/n: the fact that my worlds collided this hard what the helllllll how did oscar manage to bag that queen

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oscarpiastri

liked by mclaren, y/nusername, landonorris and 803,927 others

oscarpiastri: Pretty sure y/nusername is our lucky charm. Amazing P1 🏆😉

view all 3,037 comments

mclaren: We are willing to add her as a plus one for the rest of the year 🤝

landonorris: be a keeper mate

y/nusername: i think it’s all u ✨✨💕😸

thunderousy/n: THE HARD LAUNCH? THE COMMENTS? THE LUCKY CHARMS? IM COMBUSTING

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y/nusername

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, hyunah_aa and 1,203,028 others

y/nusername: f1 duties got me in an airport looking like i’m in a second leg of a more tiring tour, while oscar is shining and i’m not the one driving 200mph! 🙀

view all 5,024 comments

oscarpiastri: Sorry, we can’t lose the lucky charm😛

oscarpiastri: Also, you look amazing.

81racing: PLEASEEEE😭

mclaren: It’s the orange hair for us 🧡

y/nusername: temporarily repping for best end of season good vibes 🧡😼

darlingy/n: i love this man, he’s so sweet to her and he makes her so happy

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oscarpiastri:

liked by landonorris, y/nusername, carlossainz55 and 890,024 others

oscarpiastri: Season ended, and P3 in Driver’s Championship isn’t too shabby. I feel like a winner anyway, and my lucky charm will bring us to the next level next year. Thank you mclaren and Papaya Army! 🧡

view all 4,034 comments

y/nusername: great things will always come ur way 🧡🧡✨✨😸😸very proud of u

theoscarpastry: i am so unwell he is saying he won because he got the girl

y/nnation: bunnies love oscar, he’s so ken coded and y/n is the prettiest barbie

landonorris: 👊👊

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f1waggossip

liked by 153,024

f1waggossip: It is now Oscar Piastri’s turn to be a lucky charm, as he is seen attending the Mnet Asian Music Awards with Y/N, who is nominated for several categories tonight. We wish her the best!

view all 924 comments

y/nloverboy: he looks so happy to be her accessory for the night, we love it for her

oscarbabes: ken loves barbie

y/ngoddess: i am still astonished at how oscar even got y/n to take a second look at him but the superstar and chillest person alive combo is giving

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oscarpiastri

liked by y/nusername, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 802,692 others

oscarpiastri: I love being the trophy boyfriend for the MAMAs’ Artist of the Year.👩‍❤️‍👨 Always proud of you, and always a pleasure to see you perform.😄

see all 3,733 comments

y/nusername: ur too sweeeet my baby 😿😿😽😽💕💕

y/nsbff: “my baby” sleeping on the highway 2nite

oscarwildflower: “trophy boyfriend” bathing with a toaster!!!

allmylovey/n: the most unlikely of relationships is giving everything that needs to be given

#f1 #f1 au #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #formula 1 #lando norris #oscar piastri #oscar piastri au #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri social media au #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic

[animasola86]

Kinktober: A scholar and a pervert

Notes: @kinktober2023 is doing things with my mind! I will never be able to write innocent fluff ever again I fear! >_> But it's still fun to get it all out for once, all those dirty thoughts, holy moly, I should be ashamed but I am so not, absolutely not.

Here, have another piece full of various kinks that I threw together for my (and your) reading pleasure! (I was also heavily inspired by my own (NSFW) headcanons!)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! Overstimulation, (magical) sex toys, fingering/fisting, breathplay, praising and bondage if you squint. Oh and I might or might not have slipped in (pun intended) a little dp in one hole at the end, whoopsie. (It really is a wild bingo of kinks at this point.)

Word count: 10.3k

Synopsis: Bookworm!Sebastian strikes again and wants to do some experiments on you. Of course you're up for it, even though you have no idea what he has planned.

Last warning: The kinks are strong in this one. Read at your own risk!

-- can be read on AO3 too --

A scholar and a pervert

You're a mess. A whimpering, sweating, shuddering, crying mess. Your hair sticks to your forehead, your lips are swollen and parted, trembling badly, tears wet your flushed cheeks and your eyelids are heavy as you watch the boy kneeling between your spread legs.

He has tied your wrists and ankles to the posts of his bed and all you can do is thrash your head around and buck your hips against the things he is doing to you. Your limbs are twitching uncontrollably, your skin covered in sweat and saliva and so many bruises and bite marks you've long forgotten to count them.

“Sebastian, please...” you whimper, your voice strained and hoarse, your throat hurting from his previous experiments.

He looks up then, his eyes dark, his face a mask of concentration. You shiver deeply when your gazes meet and bite your raw lips once more. “Please what?” he asks gravelly, his low voice almost having the same effect on you as the toy currently lodged between your quivering folds.

As if on cue he grabs it tightly and pushes it deeper. You moan and squirm against your confines, you don't even know what he has shoved into you now. There's been so many different things and most of them you can't even describe.

And it had started so innocently. With his big brown eyes he had asked you if you were up for some experiments. He'd read something and wanted to try it out. Obviously you couldn't say no to him, you never can, not when he's looking at you with those puppy-dog eyes and asks you with that soft, deep voice.

You agreed and now you are tied to his bed, covered in his love bites and driven to orgasm after orgasm as he keeps testing out more and more things on you.

He had started with the usual, the familiar affections, kissing you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, then your cheek and jaw and neck, where he began to leave mark after mark, sucking and biting and licking your skin until it was raw and throbbing.

With a wave of his wand your clothes were gone and amidst your surprise, you found yourself on your back, pushed into the mattress, naked and exposed, your arms sprawled and your legs splayed widely – and the moment you wondered what he was doing, he had cast another spell and thick ropes had wound themselves around your wrists and ankles, holding you in place.

Your struggles were quickly silenced by his mouth and for a moment you forgot about the vulnerability of the situation. But then he settled between your legs.

He'd pleasured you so many times before, mostly with his mouth and fingers, that you had grown quite accustomed to his routine – not much he could change up there, now could he? It would still drive you mad with pleasure every time, but it had become a little redundant, at least that must have been his thought process – you would have been fine with just having him suck on your clit and fingering you rapidly until you came so hard he had to wipe your release off of his face.

But he wanted more. Always more. And even though this was about your pleasure, you knew this was mostly for him. He loved seeing you come undone under his touches, he loved turning you into a whimpering, brainless thing that would melt whenever his fingers would so much as graze your skin.

So when he got out this box of toys, you were a little startled. You were used to feeling him inside you, be it his fingers, his tongue or his cock, but seeing those objects he pulled out one after the other caused you to frown deeply. He noticed your doubts, quickly grabbed a long, skinny thing and moved up to lay down beside you, his warm eyes on you.

“Open wide for me,” he said quietly and proceeded to push his finger against your lips. Swallowing hard, you complied and parted your lips. He didn't wait for you to fully open, he already pushed his finger into your mouth and onto your tongue and deeper inside until you felt his fingertip brushing against the back of your throat.

You gagged immediately and he pulled out again, watching you with a curious expression on his freckled face as you struggled through a little cough fit. His hand moved to your throat and caressed it gently until he squeezed it lightly between his thumb and index finger, massaging it with a grip that got firmer with every passing heartbeat.

He stopped when you swallowed against his hand. Tilting his head, he leaned over you, his lips brushing against yours as his eyes fixated yours. “Do you trust me?” he asked, his voice low and vibrating through your very core.

Despite the position you found yourself in, you didn't need long to give him his answer. “Yes,” you whispered, knowing that deep down you would allow him to do anything to you. “I trust you,” you said firmly, definitely not anticipating the things he had in mind for you.

He gave you a smile that immediately erased any doubt that tried to poke through the fog inside your head and a kiss that left you breathless and certainly wanting more.

Once he leaned back, still watching you with warm affection that instantly started the waterworks between your splayed legs, he put his hand on your cheek and caressed it, before slipping his finger back between your lips. Fingers, to be exact, two this time, and they went slowly deeper, pushing and prodding at the back of your throat.

You did your best not to gag again, forcing yourself to focus on his eyes rather than the strange sensation. You couldn't, however, stop the tears from forming inside the corners of your eyes as he tilted your chin up and moved his fingers deeper. Breaking eye contact by squeezing your eyes shut, you whimpered quietly, squirming in your restraints, the ropes cutting into your skin as you did so.

“Shh,” he made, not thinking about removing his fingers. You felt saliva pooling around them, mixing with the tears streaming down your cheeks as it spilled past your quivering lips.

“Mhmpf!” you mumbled against him, trying to kick your legs as you felt your head spinning from lack of oxygen. Finally he released you and you took deep, desperate breaths as you tried to relax, staring up at him almost accusingly. He just watched you, bringing his wet fingers to his lips and letting the tip of his tongue trail along them.

You blushed deeply at the sight and immediately halted your struggles, gulping down the excess saliva. His smirk caused you to shiver. Bringing his fingers back to your face, he caressed your jaw before he leaned down and kissed you softly. You kissed him back hungrily and when he moved away again, you strained your neck to stay close to him, but he denied your feeble request to taste more of him. With a sigh you sank back into the cushions.

“I love how eager you are,” he whispered and watched you closely. “Can you open your pretty mouth once more, love?” he asked and this time, you hesitated, inhaling sharply as you noticed the object in his hand. It had a phallic size and form, smaller and thinner than the only original cock you'd ever seen, but it was still a little intimidating when he pressed its tip against your lips.

It felt firm but had a soft texture, like leather or rubber, and when he pushed it past your lips it tasted a little earthy. You swallowed in anticipation, and opened your mouth wider, your eyes on his concentrated face as he inserted the object deeper and deeper. “Suck on it,” he instructed quietly and you hollowed your cheeks and closed your lips tightly around it, doing what he told you, while he grabbed your chin and tilted it up again, gently pushing it further in.

You felt it hitting the back of your throat and you had to close your eyes, tears falling from your lashes as you fought against your gag reflex. With his hand holding your face, you couldn't really move away, so whenever it got too much, you'd hit your knuckles against the bed post (about the only movement you could make) and he would stop and pull it back out. He kept watching you with interest and kept repeating the same motion for what felt like a long time until you felt you got more and more comfortable with that thing in your mouth.

He started moving it faster and harder against you, the wet noises mixing with your soft whimpers, before he pulled it out completely and let it fall beside your head as he grabbed your face with both hands and pushed his mouth onto yours, not letting you breathe but rewarding you for your efforts with a deep, hungry kiss that made your legs twitch.

“I can't wait to put my cock down your throat,” he whispered gravelly into your mouth, his words and the idea of it making you shiver. “But that's for another time...”

When he leaned back with a smirk, he left you breathless and dishevelled, your lips swollen and trembling, saliva and tears dripping from your chin. He moved his hand over your skin and wiped at it gently, before his hand travelled down your throat and lower, his fingers trailing between your breasts. His dark eyes were on you as he lowered his head and pressed his lips to your chest. You felt your heart beating faster, right against his mouth, the bruises on your neck throbbing in anticipation.

You inhaled deeply, breathing against his touches, as he started leaving a trail of wet kisses on your skin, occasionally sucking and licking, leaving visible marks on you, other times grazing you with his teeth, scraping and nibbling and downright biting you – and you would wince every time, low whimpers falling from your lips.

Then he moved to your breasts. Leaning back to look at you, he grabbed them with firm hands, enveloping them completely in his big palms, squeezing and kneading them until he coaxed a moan out of you. You watched him, almost not daring to breathe as he fondled your chest vigorously. His eyes were always on you, as if he was studying every single twitch you made, not the tiniest reaction went past his attentive stare.

You blushed deeply underneath it, the intensity in his dark eyes was enough to not only make you whimper louder but squirm against him, your unattended centre throbbing in growing need. But he took his time. He usually did, but this time felt particularly slow, almost excruciatingly slow. He was either teasing you or just really wanted to see how far he could push you before you succumbed to your urges and begged him to do more.

While he kept groping your left breast, he moved his mouth to your right and without hesitation started sucking on your nipple. It was already hard from all the things he'd done before, so feeling his tongue poke and circle it, only caused more moans to fall from your sore throat. You thrashed your head back into the pillow and closed your eyes when he teased it with his teeth, a sharp pain jolting through you at the sensation.

When he switched and assaulted your other breast with his mouth, you whined and squirmed beneath him, the tension inside your stomach building and building. Yet he kept his routine, groping and kneading, rolling your nipple between his fingers while he sucked and licked and gnawed on the other.

You strained against the ropes tying you to the bedposts and for a moment, a single moment before your mind became utterly useless, you looked around and noticed that he had drawn the curtains and you could only hope that he had put a silencing charm on them as well, because you knew for a fact that you couldn't hold those noises in. But when your insides convulsed under the constant stimulation of your tender nipples, you didn't care if anyone could hear you.

You could only arch your back, pushing your chest right against his face, as your hips stuttered and you tried to no avail to press your thighs together for that little bit of extra friction that he had denied you by forcing your legs open. So despite the rush settling in your stomach, that feeling of release that was so, so close, it never came, and you wailed loudly when he let go of your breasts and leaned back to look at you.

You were glaring at him and he only smirked wider. “Patience, love,” he whispered and gave you a quick peck to your trembling lips. You then watched him settling back between your legs, his fingers ghosting your skin before he focused on the toys he had brought. More phallic looking objects, in all sizes and lengths and girths, a series of balls tied to a string and other things you couldn't even describe.

You swallowed hard at the sight, but somehow you were indeed eager to see where this was going. Before he picked any of it, you felt his hands rubbing up and down your inner thighs and you moaned softly in response, your legs twitching against his touch. Then you watched him take a very close look at your quivering cunt, and if you weren't in heat and need and almost driven to madness with desire, you'd be embarrassed and slightly humiliated by how closely he looked at you.

But all you wanted was for him to touch you and to your utter surprise he complied. His fingers drew gentle lines over your pelvis until they reached your sex, his thumbs firmly pushing against your lower lips, caressing them with precision. Your breaths were shallow and every touch caused you to shiver deeply. He paused then and tilted his head, still staring at your centre. You'd think he was looking at it for the first time, when in reality he might know it better than you do.

And still he seemed fascinated by it. You could only blush more, the heat travelling down your body warming your skin and causing his marks on you to throb slightly. While he had one hand pressed to your lower stomach, his thumb teasingly close to your clit, you felt his other glide over your folds, gently pushing and squeezing them between his fingers, the wet squelching sound coaxing an embarrassed whimper out of you.

He looked up then and gave you a disarming smile. “Don't be ashamed,” he whispered as he moved his finger right through your wetness, the sound and sensation of it making you flinch. “It's quite impressive to be this wet, you know?” You raised your eyebrows at him and he chuckled softly. “I find it really fascinating how you react to my touches... I only have to do this –” he said and pushed his thumb firmly against that sensitive bundle of nerves – and you could do nothing but moan and buck your hips in response while a deep tremor rushed through your legs. “And you come undone almost instantly.”

You barely registered his words as you were only focused on his voice and its deep vibrations and the effect it had on you. You never told him this, but you could probably come just from hearing his whispers in your ear. The thought alone gave you goosebumps. You should probably mention it to him at some point, if he was already so fascinated by how you reacted to his touches. The things he could do with just his voice... You sighed deeply.

He rubbed your clit again and brought you back to the here and now as you moaned softly once more and licked your lips, trying to breathe evenly through your nose. His eyes were on you still, a mixture of hunger and curiosity, as he continued to move his fingers through your folds, and it was when he moved both hands down and gently put your lower lips between his thumb and forefinger, that you inhaled sharply. He pulled your folds apart and looked right at your entrance.

You felt yourself clenching around nothing as he did so and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he kept your hole exposed to the cold air of the room, watching it with eager eyes. You had to look away at one point, your cheeks burning and your heart thundering inside your quickly rising and falling chest. Even though he knew your body inside and out and you were usually very comfortable around him, it still felt weird having him look so closely, inspecting you like this.

You cried out in surprise when you suddenly felt his warm mouth right on your sensitive skin, his tongue taking a long stroke through your wetness, teasing your entrance and lapping at your clit, and the moan he issued almost drove you over the edge immediately. It didn't take long for you to scratch the almost and replace it with definitely as he kept licking you with a force you hadn't expected.

Your first orgasm rolled over you quite gently, your body accepting the anticipated release with a series of tremors and shudders as the tension within dissipated slowly. You moaned softly, gripping the ropes that held you tightly as it washed over you. At that point you had no idea that you wouldn't come down from this high for a very long time.

With his mouth still pressed to your folds, you felt him move his hands and he blindly grabbed the nearest object he could find before he leaned back and without any hesitation or further preparation pushed the phallic thing right into your still shivering channel. You gasped in irritation and your eyes flew open as you stared down at him, your walls clenching around the cold, hard item. A deep shudder made your legs tremble as he kept pushing it in until it almost disappeared inside you.

Before it did, he pulled it back out, gently moving it in circles, then withdrew it entirely. Instead he used his fingers and quickly slipped two of them in, coaxing more moans out of you. He pushed them knuckles deep into you before he started pumping them hard and fast, using the aftershocks of your last orgasm to give you another one right away.

Thrashing your head into the pillow, your whimpers louder now, he worked his digits against you and the tension built and built – yet before you could embrace the sweet release once more, he pulled out and shoved that object back inside you. You wailed and squirmed against it, your walls tightening around it, pulling it deeper – until you bucked your hips upwards, your eyes squeezed shut, as your trembling orgasm made the thing slip out with a force neither of you seemed to have anticipated.

The object rolled off the bed and disappeared past the curtains. You heard him chuckling and felt his weight leaving the bed, before he returned, settling back between your legs. “I didn't know your pussy could do that,” he whispered and when you looked at him out of half-lidded eyes, you felt your cheeks blush even more. “Fascinating,” he added and returned the item to the box.

He then grabbed the line of balls attached to a string and you watched him with curiosity and slight concern as he cradled the item between his long fingers. You were breathing heavily, your legs still twitching, and he wouldn't let you catch your breath as he proceeded to push the first ball against your wet folds. Not being able to see them disappear inside you, you could feel them being sucked in by your clenching walls, ball after ball, until they filled you up with a pressure you hadn't felt before.

His hand was on your stomach as he gently pushed against your skin and as he did so, he tugged at the string carefully and ball after ball plopped back out of you, your hips stuttering with every single one. You didn't know how many there were, how many he had managed to fit inside you, but when he repeated this motion, you could only lean back and stare at the ceiling, the sensation strangely relaxing.

Your soft moans and whimpers became a constant drone in your empty head so that you could barely hear him when he told you to push them out. You opened your eyes and looked at him, feeling the balls lodged inside your tight channel, pressing against your walls, stretching you, filling you up in a kind of comforting way. “What?” you breathed quietly.

“Push them out,” he repeated and gently tugged at the string again, but left it to you to get them out of your quivering cunt. You frowned at him and bucked your hips as you deliberately clenched your walls around them and with a deep moan you managed to make them move within you. His smile grew on his face as you felt the pressure lessening and the balls slipping out of you one by one. “Well done,” he whispered and you swallowed at that.

His praises always caught you quite off guard, but not as much as his fingers as they plunged back into you and you moaned loudly at the sensation. Somehow he was moving deeper and you realized he had angled his hand to drive his digits into you a little past his knuckles. You felt him caressing your walls from the inside, gently pushing and prodding, and when he spread his fingers, you flinched and whimpered, only to be calmed down by his hand still on your stomach, rubbing in soothing circles.

You watched him breathlessly, biting your lip as you arched your neck to take a better look at what he was doing, and when you saw how he removed his fingers to push them further together and press his thumb against his palm, you realized he was about to push his entire hand into you. You gasped and squirmed against him, not quite believing his big hand would fit into you, but he shushed you and continued as you tensed against your restraints.

He was concentrated and carefully pushed his fingertips past your clenching entrance, really trying to make his hand as narrow as possible as he entered you. You whimpered more, your breaths erratic, the tension on your tight skin unbelievably firm, almost painfully so. He kept pushing and when it got too much, you thrashed your head back into the pillow and surrendered to it, knowing you couldn't stop him anyway.

“Does it hurt?” you heard him whisper and you could only nod, whining quietly.

Yet instead of pulling back out, he kept going, slowly pushing his hand further in, his knuckles being the widest part really stretching your sensitive skin. As he noticed your struggle, you felt him lower his free hand to move it to your clit, and as he began to rub it in tight circles, you felt your centre relaxing slightly and indeed he managed to push his hand past his knuckles and from there it seemed as if your channel was sucking him in on its own.

You held your breath at the pressure within and squeezed your eyes shut, beads of sweats running down your temples. “Look at me,” you then heard him whisper and because you couldn't deny him anything, you opened your eyes and watched him, your face a mask of exertion and pain, your lips trembling. “Look at my hand,” he then said and looked down first – and when you did you could only see his wrist sticking out between your folds. The sight made you gasp deeply as more and more tremors rushed through your body.

Yet it was when he started moving his fingers inside you, gently unfolding them against your soft flesh, that you cried out and unconsciously jerked your hips against his hand – only making the sensation worse. Tears started streaming down your cheeks and you stared at him pleadingly, tossing against the ropes holding you in place, but he didn't budge. Instead he moved his hand slightly, pushing even deeper, even though you felt as if he was already prodding your cervix with his fingertips.

You had always admired his long, slender fingers and what they could do to you, but you never imagined having his entire hand shoved inside you as if you were a fucking puppet – yet he did move you like one as he started pushing and teasing, each movement of his fingers coaxing either a shrill sound out of you or making your limbs twitch. You felt your stomach tensing up and when he started turning his hand slightly, you completely lost it.

Thrashing about as much as you could against the ropes, you fought against the intrusion with all you had. It was too much, it felt too much, he was filling you up in ways nobody should be filled up, and it got even worse when he began to move his hand in and out in tiny movements, pulling back to his knuckles and sinking back in until his wrist was hugged by your folds again, and you moaned and groaned and whimpered, your body quickly overwhelmed by the sensation.

Your head was spinning and your breaths rapid puffs that didn't get any air into your lungs. Your heart was racing, thundering against your chest, ready to burst right through your ribs while your pelvis felt as if it was cracked open from the inside.

“Please...” you whimpered helplessly, your voice barely a hoarse whisper.

But he kept going, moving his hand faster and faster, and your walls clenched around him, so tight it hurt, and each subtle brush of a finger caused you to moan and shriek, your hips stuttering, and you felt something growing within you that wasn't pleasure. It was panic. Despite the stimulation, you felt as if he would never be able to get his hand back out, how could that possibly work, it didn't seem right, it all felt too tight and narrow, and in your frenzy, you cried out again and again, more and more sweat covering your bare body.

“Sebastian! Please! Get it out!” you shrieked and thrashed your head against the pillow, whining desperately as the tremors jolted through your body. And suddenly he did and it just worked, he slipped out without any problem, and the sudden loss of him felt almost as bad as when he had been inside your tight walls.

You whimpered softly, your hips twitching, your walls still trying to clench back to their normal state. A cold breeze passed over your skin as you lay there, breathing heavily, completely deliriously at this point. You felt him shifting against you and then his hands were on your face and you didn't know if it was the sweat and tears on your cheeks or your own juices coating his fingers. He brushed his lips against yours softly, causing you to open your eyes lazily.

“It's alright,” he whispered soothingly. “It's all good now. You did so well...”

He rewarded you with another soft kiss and you just leaned into it, too exhausted and shaken to deepen it and just grateful for the break. But you somehow knew that he wasn't done with you yet.

“Do you want to feel good again?” he asked you, watching you closely as his breath ghosted your trembling lips. You wanted to tell him that despite the discomfort you had just experienced, you still felt good, the pleasure was coursing through your nerves way more intense than the pain had done. But you couldn't word it, so you just said: “Yes...”

He smiled and gave you a quick peck, before leaning back again, once more settling between your splayed legs. You watched out of tired eyes how he rummaged through the items lying on the bed and you wondered what he would choose next. After having his hand stretching your insides, you felt that nothing could top that, and indeed he didn't go for the biggest item, but the smallest: an egg-shaped thing on a string.

You felt his hand on your stomach, gently caressing your skin and the tension beneath, while his other hand weighed the object carefully, before he put it to your wet folds. It was surprisingly warm and felt almost comforting against your quivering cunt. He moved it through your wetness and then pushed it past your entrance with one swift nudge of his thumb until it disappeared inside, swallowed by your tight warmth. You shivered slightly, unable to react any differently with your body still mainly out of order.

Then you watched him raise the other end of the string and heard him mumble something under his breath – and once he was done, you flinched so badly, you almost jumped off the bed if you weren't tied by your wrists and ankles. Your body convulsed in shock as you felt the little item inside you vibrating vigorously, your walls clenching around it as it seemed to move on its own, its thrumming motion taking it places you had no idea were this sensitive. You moaned and cried, immediately back to being stimulated out of your mind.

Squirming more and more with the little egg lodged inside you, you bucked your hips and this time, Sebastian held you down as he pushed your pelvis into the bed, watching you with dark eyes and a curious gaze, and even in your mind-blowing ecstasy you noticed the red splotches on his cheeks and the hunger plastered all over his freckled face. You weren't able to watch him any longer as wave after wave of pleasure washed over your body, the little vibrations strong enough to turn those waves into full-on tsunamis as you tried to float above them, hoping not to drown in the sensations.

All your limbs were twitching, your muscles contracting, your walls clenching and unclenching, your heart ready to burst out of your chest. You could barely breathe any more as you gave up fighting it. Bright lights engulfed you, stars danced behind your eyelids, a familiar weightlessness made you forget all the things that had happened up until this point.

Then you heard his voice and he was leaning close enough to whisper into your ear and more and more shivers ran down your spine. “Squirt for me,” you heard him say and you didn't quite know what he meant at first, but then your body reacted all the same as he put his fingers on your clit and rubbed small circles around it, assisting the little vibrating egg in taking you to never-before-experienced heights – and with a force you couldn't control and a shrill shriek you arched your hips off the bed and your release shot out of you, quickly followed by the egg that would have launched into the room as well if it wasn't for the string he was still holding on to.

You slumped back onto the bed, breathing heavily, too exhausted to even open your eyes. He was kissing your earlobe. “Well done,” he whispered and you moaned softly at the sound of his deep voice. His hand trailed up your body, gently teasing and caressing, before he wrapped it around your throat and brought his mouth to your cheek, lapping at your tears. A whimper escaped you and any further noises were silenced as he pressed his lips to yours, kissing you demandingly, not allowing you to even turn your head away to catch your breath.

You felt light-headed quickly, not even breathing through your nose seemed to help, and yet you didn't care. You were still floating on the aftershocks of your orgasm, whichever it was by now, and if you were perfectly honest, you'd die a very happy girl if this would have been the end.

But of course it wasn't. How could you even think that he would be done with you just yet? Well, you didn't think, you couldn't, there was only static in your head, such blissful nothingness that was only penetrated by the occasional lightning bolt jolting through your system whenever he would push any of your buttons. And you had so many to choose from, every inch of your body felt sensitive right now and those regions that normally were the most sensitive were throbbing violently – and when he would brush them, you'd flinch and moan into his mouth.

His free hand was on your breast again, pinching and rolling your hard nipple, as his fingers tightened more and more around your throat, squeezing until you felt your eyelids fluttering. Gasping deeply, trying to get air into your lungs, you stared at him, your mouth open and your lips sore and swollen and trembling, and he would only release you when your eyes threatened to roll into the back of your head.

“Breathe,” he commanded and you did, taking quick, heavy breaths, almost wheezing as you tried to fill your lungs again. “Easy, easy,” he whispered and gently caressed your bruised throat. “Slow breaths... in... and out...” he gave you the tempo and you slowly fell into his rhythm, watching him closely as you did so.

Calming down eventually, you even managed to give him a soft smile. You saw him lick his lips and stare at your mouth, before he dove in again and kissed you passionately, throwing breathing calmly to the wind immediately. You whimpered quietly as he pushed his tongue into your mouth and pressed it against yours. You could barely reply the motion and so he pulled your tongue between his lips and sucked gently on it, coaxing more sounds out of your throat as you shivered against him.

He was still somewhat hovering above you, propped on one elbow, his body too far away to feel the heat rush through him. You felt the urge to touch him grow bigger and bigger and your hands twitched helplessly in their confines. All you could think about was the need to feel his soft locks between your fingers or his warm skin beneath them or his firm muscles tensing against your touch, you wanted to feel his weight on you, pushing you into the mattress, giving you another reason to become breathless – but none of this was going to happen, because it didn't look like he would untie you anytime soon.

Luckily he kept at least kissing you for quite a while, his lips sucking on yours, his tongue invading your mouth and licking as far as he could reach, and even though your lips felt raw and swollen, you never wanted it to end, in spite (or maybe because) of the lack of oxygen that left you feeling light-headed. When he would lean back, his heavy breaths hit your shivering lips and you opened your eyes to watch him, taking in with a feeling of glee and satisfaction that he was just as breathless as you.

He stared at you with dark eyes and an intensity that made your legs shake, the hunger for you evident in his gaze. Despite the heated kiss, you felt rather relaxed again – and just realizing that seemed to make him move again. He was back between your legs and without warning grabbed your cunt and pushed two fingers inside, quickly curling them inside you as he pushed his thumb against your clit and his fingertips against that sweet spot right beneath – and you immediately arched your hips against the touch and moaned loudly, any thought about being relaxed quickly out of the window once more.

He held you like that for a moment, his hand like a claw around your pleasure points, and just this motion made you shudder and shiver all over again. His free hand moved over his toy collection and he grabbed a particularly big and long one, yet instead of shoving it into your hole, he brought it up to your lips and pushed it against them.

“Open,” he just said, his voice even lower than before. You did so with hesitation, the tip of that thing really bore resemblance to a cock, and when he slipped it past your bruised lips, you whimpered deeply. “Use your tongue,” he commanded and you started moving your tongue around the object as he shoved it in and out of your mouth, the wet noises mixing with the slight squelching of his hand still gripped around your cunt.

Once your saliva coated the soft rubbery surface of the object, he pulled it out and moved it down between your legs and swiftly exchanged his fingers with it as he pushed it past your tight entrance with a little bit of struggle. You moaned and whimpered, squirming against the intrusion, shuddering deeply as he kept going until it was all the way in and barely poking out of you. He left it in there and removed his hand and you watched in growing displeasure how he stood up from the bed and moved one of the curtains aside.

“Hold that for me, will you?” he whispered and gave you a sly smirk. “Don't lose it like the other one, okay?”

You swallowed and nodded quickly, then watched him disappear from your view. You were left alone on the bed, tied to its posts, a thick immobile thing wedged into your centre and you didn't dare move, nor accidentally clench your walls around it in fear of pushing it out like you had done before. Every passing heartbeat made that harder as you felt it stretching you and the thought alone made you want to buck your hips. Gritting your teeth, you stared up at the ceiling and waited.

While you did, other thoughts flooded your clouded mind. Where did he go? Did he leave me here? What if his room mates come back and find me like this? What if... You stopped yourself before that train of thought could become any more horrifying. Sighing deeply, you looked around and noticed the red, raw skin around your wrists and you winced as you moved them. Suddenly you missed being overstimulated out of your mind, it had made everything so much more tolerable.

“Sebastian?” you whispered quietly, despite knowing that he probably wouldn't be able to hear you. More time passed and you didn't know whether it was minutes or hours, it certainly felt too long for comfort.

Just as you were starting to lose your mind over your situation, several things happened at once. The first, most notable thing was the object lodged inside you – it started humming, lowly vibrating, and you gasped sharply. You felt it moving within you and you had the urge to put your hands on it to keep it in – and as you thought that, you felt the pressure on your wrists lessening and then your hands were free.

You didn't really have time to enjoy your new freedom as you quickly moved your shaking hands down and pressed them between your legs, moaning louder as you kept the thrumming thing deep inside you, thrashing your head back as it hit all the sweet spots while your walls clenched tightly around it, its vibrations causing tremors to rush through your entire body.

If only you could press your thighs together as well. You kicked your legs as they started twitching badly and just like what happened to your wrists, the ropes around your ankles loosened – and not a second too soon. As the tension became almost unbearable, you rolled onto your side, your hands firmly pressed onto your wet folds as you clenched your thighs around them and frantically rocked back and forth, moaning loudly as you rode your high and the vibrating object inside you with everything you had and what was given to you.

Wave after wave crashed over you and you whimpered tiredly into the bedding as you curved yourself into the fetal position, still shuddering deeply as the thing never stopped thrumming, yet you couldn't bring yourself to let it go. It felt too good as it filled you up completely, fitting into you so perfectly, an almost familiar feeling as you thought about it.

“Already done with your new toy?” you then heard Sebastian's voice and you looked up almost panicked, because you were without your confines and pleasuring yourself without him being there, but he didn't seem to mind. “I thought you'd like that one...”

You finally saw him at the foot of the bed as he came through the curtain and climbed back onto the bed, his hands on your hips as he gently rolled you around again until you were lying on your back once more. Prying your thighs apart, he then grabbed your hands and rested them on the bed beside you, before he firmly gripped the thrumming toy and pulled it out of you, coaxing a deep moan and several shivers out of you.

As he did so, you saw a thick liquid oozing out of the tip of the object, now really bearing resemblance to a cock – and weirdly enough you suddenly recognized it. “It worked then,” he said quietly and smiled at you. You watched him with a frown before he brought the thing closer to your face, you saw it throbbing and twitching, more and more cum-like substance dripping down its veined shaft.

“Do you like a taste?” he asked – and without hesitation you sat up and raised your shaking hands to cradle the item between your fingers before you gave it a hearty lick. He watched you intently, curiosity back in his warm gaze, yet when your tongue made contact with the toy, you saw him flinching slightly. He took a shuddering breath and licked his lips. “Feels nice,” he whispered.

You stared at him. “You can... feel that?” you asked with your voice hoarse and feeble.

“It's my cock, of course I can feel it,” he said with a chuckle.

Your eyes went wider. “What do you mean, your cock? Did you –” Your gaze wandered to his groin and you heard him laugh.

“No! It's just a simple spell, like a cloning spell with some extra enchantments,” he explained and gently took one of your hands and brought it to the front of his trousers. “See? It's still there,” he said and you could feel his hard length through the fabric – just like you could feel it in your hand, only that it was detached from his body.

Either your mind was still clouded from having too many orgasms or this was both one of the weirdest and yet best ideas you'd ever heard. “Can I... keep it?” you whispered, holding onto the item carefully.

He chuckled deeply. “Only if you keep it well hidden in your dorm room, it is quite sensitive, you know?”

“Is it... always... connected to you?”

“I could lift the spell, but why not live a little dangerously, eh?” he said with a wink. “I trust you won't prank me with it...”

You watched him with your cheeks flushed, his words immediately creating several scenarios how you could use this thing against him – yet in the end your mind always came back to cradling it between your legs when you were alone at night. The thought of having a piece of him with you at all times sounded like a dream. “You can trust me,” you whispered and gave your new favourite toy a soft peck on the head. “I will take good care of it...”

“I'm sure you will,” he said softly and leaned over you to kiss your damp forehead. “How do you feel, by the way?”

You inhaled deeply and watched him, having momentarily suppressed the state of your body. You didn't feel bad, though you just knew that you would be sore for days after having your muscles constantly assaulted like this. Smiling tiredly at him, you said: “I feel good, properly satisfied.”

He narrowed his eyes at that and tilted his head. “Hmm, not what I wanted to hear,” he said with a smirk and in a swift motion he grabbed the toy out of your hand and shoved it back into your cunt without giving you any chance of objection. You moaned deeply and even more so when you saw him inhaling sharply as well. You could only imagine what this must feel like for him.

He then placed his hands on your waist and pushed you slightly up the bed, giving him more room to settle between your legs once more. You saw him waving his wand and out of nowhere came new ropes to wind around your wrists and ankles and tie you back to the bedposts. You squirmed against them, falling into your whining demeanour as you felt your body returning to its overwhelmed and vulnerable condition all over again.

“Sebastian, please...” you whimpered, straining your wrists and bucking your hips, but he only looked at you darkly, pushing lazily against the object wedged between your folds as it started to slip out slightly.

“Please what?” he muttered, chewing on his lips as he watched you.

“I... I want to feel you,” you breathed, barely able to word your needs as the tension started to build up once more. “All of you...”

He smirked at that and tilted his head. When he moved, he pressed his knee right against your centre – and you shrieked in a mixture of surprise, pain and pleasure as the toy slipped deeper, pushing right against your cervix, making your head spin, but the sensation was overpowered by his mouth colliding hard with yours as he kissed you deeply, his own moans slipping past his tongue as he forced it into your mouth.

You wanted to throw your arms around his neck and just hold onto him, but all you could manage to do was a weak twitching of your fingers as they sat forgotten in their confines once more. With his thrumming cock-toy deep inside you, his kiss quickly drove you over the edge as well. Moaning and whimpering against him, you bucked your hips into his knee and took whatever little friction it could give you to push you higher and higher.

As your walls fluttered wildly, the tension inside your stomach burst into a million little pieces of light and you saw stars dancing behind your eyelids as you thrashed your head into the pillow. He never stopped kissing you, his mouth holding yours captive and your shared heavy breaths made you both feel light-headed quickly.

Only after your body ceased shuddering would he finally move. You lay on the bed completely spent, breathless and slightly sore, sweat covering your skin and burning in the bruises he had given you, your hair sticking to your forehead, your lips raw and trembling, your cheeks tear-soaked and flushed, and even though you were a mess and barely able to function any more, he was not done with you still.

“There's one more thing I want to try,” he told you and you felt him shifting against you. You heard the rustle of clothes and then you felt his fingers at your entrance, gently prying the object out of the tight grip of your cunt. You whimpered softly, barely fighting anything any more. When it left your throbbing channel, you missed it already, its warmth and thickness had been almost comforting to you.

Yet you didn't have to miss it long as he suddenly pushed the real thing into you and you moaned deeply as your eyes flew open. He had moved your pelvis up and his thighs beneath yours as he knelt between your legs, one hand on your waist as he guided himself deeper, the other gripping the toy firmly. You watched him out of half-lidded eyes, your breath hitching in your throat as it occurred to you what he might be planning.

You squirmed in your restraints, your stomach immediately tensing up even more, as he moved the hand holding the cock-toy closer to where your bodies were connected. Your breaths were shallow, your walls clenching up in anticipation.

He looked at you then, his gaze dark and hungry, his lips trembling slightly. “This will be interesting,” he said quietly and winked at you, then without further warning pushed the head of the toy between your stretched entrance and his length. You cried out and watched him moan deeply, the pressure on your sensitive skin almost as bad as when he had forced his hand inside you, yet the toy was more forgiving and softer than his knuckles and slipped into your tight space surprisingly fast.

The pain and pressure of the double penetration was still there though and you writhed and whimpered, arching your back into the mattress, trying to ease the sensation of two cocks wedged into your tight channel as your sensitive skin strained around them. He seemed to feel almost as overwhelmed as you as he halted his movements and let the toy rest for a while, only having managed to push its crown in. While you wailed quietly, your body shuddering in constant tremors, you held your breath and watched him as he took a few deep breaths before he continued pushing the object further.

You whimpered louder, feeling so full already it was almost painful. You could feel him stretching you more and more and when the toy was fully wedged in there, you felt his body shuddering against yours. His hands found your waist and he gripped it with shaking fingers. Again you wished you could hold onto him, experience this pain together, comfort each other through it, but your hands were still out of order.

“You are so... tight...” you heard him mumble, his voice low and gravelly. “Damn, so fucking tight...” He kept muttering under his breath, breathing loudly through his nose as you watched him, suddenly more interested in watching him than focusing on your own discomfort. It came back to you when he started moving his hips against you.

A shrill shriek escaped you. It wasn't the constant clenching of your walls as he stretched you, it was the strain on your entrance that made you cry out in pain. “Try to... relax...” he urged you through laboured breaths. But you couldn't, it felt impossible to relax in a situation like this. He seemed to realize that and moved one of his hands down to rub at your clit roughly. You wailed and thrashed your head into the pillow, but despite the not so gentle touch it helped in easing the pressure.

As he kept moving against you, the toy and his cock scraping against your walls and each other, you were quickly overwhelmed by the feeling – yet it started to grow on you. Having two of the same thing inside you felt like nothing you had ever felt before, it was both exhilarating and absolutely terrifying to think about, having your cunt stretched like this – then again it was double the sensation you normally had when he filled you with his girth, it was just more of him, you had to remind yourself as he slowly picked up his pace and slammed his hips firmer into yours.

Your moans mixed with his and the vice-like grip of his hands on your waist kept you from squirming too much, forcing you to just feel him moving within you, feel him building up that tension that coiled inside your stomach, feel him pushing himself to his limits for a change. His groans and grunts grew louder and as you focused on him instead of the constant stretch that would drive you insane otherwise, you watched him come undone right in front of you.

You usually didn't get to see him like this as he always pushed you to your limits before he took care of his own pleasure. And as you were just a whimpering mess whenever he would do that, it never gave you the chance to watch him become a mess as well. Even if this meant that his experiment wasn't as pleasurable to you, it seemed to work wonders on him and you revelled in the sight of him.

Now it was his hair that stuck to his damp forehead, his flushed cheeks and his trembling lips as he worked his hips against you, staring down at you in laboured concentration. You wanted to touch him so badly again, run your hands over his cheeks, down his chest, ease his rapid heartbeat with soothing circles of your palms, wipe his hair out of his eyes and dig your fingers through his locks – but alas your hands were –

You moved them and suddenly the ropes were gone. Too surprised to wonder how that happened, you followed the images in your head and moved your hands to lie on his. He looked up equally surprised, too exerted to give you any other facial expression. You slipped your fingers between his, easing his grip on your waist and forcing him to focus on you, and he complied, interlocking his hands with yours as he kept thrusting hard and fast against you.

You bit your lip, still fighting the pain of the sensation, yet with your hands free you were able to feel him more and better, and following a whim, you pulled his hands towards you, causing him to shift against you as he leaned over you.

And suddenly you felt his entire weight on you, knocking all the air out of your lungs as he pushed you into the mattress, which also meant that his cock and the toy slipped even deeper into you, filling you up so badly that a pained scream escaped you. He quickly muffled it by smashing his mouth against yours. You cried soundless tears through his comforting kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as you held onto him desperately, hoping it would end soon.

Soon was a relative term because in this new position it seemed easier for him to move. He moaned into your mouth as he fell into a steady rhythm. With the toy wedged between your walls and his cock, he was only able to move his hips in tiny, rapid snaps, yet the constant friction and pressure quickly got him to where he wanted – and surprisingly enough you as well.

As you felt him (and his enchanted toy) twitching inside you, his jerky movements quickening, you felt your walls tightening around both intruders, the tension in your stomach coiling up painfully, but when he gave you that one final thrust, pushing his entire body into it as he buried his balls in your folds, hitting your cervix with eerie precision, you arched your head back and cried out in what could only be pleasure as he had finally managed to push away the pain.

Your muscles contracted and you squeezed your eyes shut, your hands gripping his hair forcefully as you moaned through your release – and at the same time he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close as his entire body shuddered deeply, both of his cocks spilling their seed deep inside of you. His warmth was overwhelming and with double the amount of cum pumping into you, you quickly felt it spilling out – and you didn't ask yourself how anything could fit past the strained skin of your entrance.

Your body seemed to be capable of a lot of things you had never anticipated, as this evening and his consistent experiments had shown you. In your haze you couldn't even remember all the things he had stuffed you and pleasured you with, even though it would probably be your body that would remember more than your clouded mind. With all the strain and pressure it had to endure and the marks and bites he had left on your skin, with how your muscles ached from the constant spasms, you could be lucky if you were able to leave this bed any time soon.

Not that you necessarily wanted that. Lying beneath him, smothered by his body, impaled by his throbbing cocks, you didn't feel the need to be anywhere else. You were with him, double the amount of him even, you could feel him, warm and heavy and comforting, his hair between your fingers and his mouth pressed to yours as he kissed you lazily while both of you came down from your highs slowly.

His breaths eased against you and your own shuddering ebbed away, but only until he shifted on top of you again, causing you to wince. You grabbed his face and looked at him. “Don't move,” you whispered.

He raised his eyebrows. “Doesn't this hurt you?”

“It's a good hurt,” you replied quietly, which earned you a shaking of his head and a frantic kiss.

“You shouldn't be in pain like this,” he breathed against your lips. “I never meant to... cause you pain...”

“I know you didn't,” you said softly, your thumbs caressing his flushed cheeks. “But it's okay. I can handle it.” You chuckled softly. “If your experiments have shown you anything then it's that I can definitely handle whatever you throw my way.”

He smiled almost shyly. “You certainly did, I am really impressed,” he whispered, pushing his lips to yours once more. “And I am... grateful that you indulge me like this... that's not something anyone would do.”

“Well, I'm not anyone, I'm your person, and like I told you many times before: you can do anything to me.”

He chuckled at your words. “Careful what you wish for, love,” he teased and kissed your cheek, before he started moving against you once more.

You fought the urge to cry out and pressed your lips together, breathing loudly through your nose. He watched you, yet he continued to shift his hips back and slowly pulled out of the tight fit of your cunt. When the pressure lessened almost immediately once at least one of him was out, you inhaled deeply, then watched with your heart thundering inside your chest how he poked at the toy still lodged in your clenching walls.

He leaned back on his knees, his fingers pushing past the mess he had left inside you to retrieve the object, but your walls didn't seem to want to part from it just yet. “Help me out a little?” he asked quietly and with a smirk, and you complied, albeit reluctantly, bucking your hips upwards and deliberately clenching and unclenching to push the toy out.

But it wouldn't budge. “Just... leave it in,” you suggested with your cheeks burning.

“I don't think that's a good idea,” he said a little breathlessly, still prodding his fingers into you but he only seemed to push it further in.

“Perhaps I don't want to let go yet,” you whispered. “Perhaps I want to keep that part of you with me...”

He stared at you and blinked slowly, before he looked down at his seed seeping out of your hole. More or less reluctantly he stilled his attempts of pulling the toy out and leaned back more, inhaling deeply. As he still considered your words, he turned to your ankles and freed them from the rope with a flick of his finger. You remained lying there, motionless, with only the occasional twitch jolting through your thighs.

“That... might be the sweetest and the most perverted thing you ever said,” he eventually replied and there was a sly glint in his dark eyes. You laughed at that and reached your arms out to him, beckoning him closer. As he lay down beside you, pulling you into his arms, he chuckled. “And I thought I was the pervert here...”

“You still are,” you said and smirked at him as you snuggled against him. “But I fear that you had a bad influence on me.”

“Oh certainly,” he whispered as he nuzzled his nose against your neck, his hand trailing over the marks and bruises he had left on your skin. “And I might regret giving you this toy after all...”

“Aww, but why? I told you I'll take good care of it. I'll keep it warm and cosy and carry it with me everywhere –” you started until his look of surprise and indignation caused you to laugh out loud. “What? You don't believe me? Just imagine it for a moment: as I walk through the hallways, hurrying to my next class, I'll always have you with me, wedged inside, my walls embracing you lovingly. Sitting might be interesting, but I'm certainly up for the challenge.”

“Alright, now that is the most perverted thing you ever said!” he exclaimed and shook his head, kissing your jaw. “And I don't believe a word you're saying, you won't even make out with me in public!”

“That's not true, I made out with you in public countless times, I just don't want anyone else to see my pussy, okay? You have it easy with that convenient flap in your breeches while I have to expose myself to everyone around – and I really don't want to scar a first-year for life, you know?”

He chuckled deeply, the vibrations of his voice rumbling through you. “But traversing the halls with my cock wedged between your legs is okay?”

“Well, it's just your cock, not as conspicuous as if your whole body would be attached to it,” you smirked. “Easy to hide under my skirt.”

He groaned as you shifted your hips, your walls clenching tightly around the aforementioned toy. “Oh what have I done?” he mumbled and sighed deeply.

“Created a monster,” you whispered and leaned closer to kiss him softly, chuckling against him.

End notes:

And on that last sentence let me tell you that this motherfucker of a pixel boy truly created a monster in me – I mean look at all the smut I've written, each piece more and more deranged I feel like. Don't get me wrong, I feel very lucky to have this constant muse around me and I've certainly written more in these last months than I've written in literally more than a decade so I am very grateful for that!

But come on, how am I supposed to go back to writing fluff? Just fluff? I don't think I can go back to that. And I hope that you, dear reader, won't mind the filth I'm producing. This fandom is a constant source of inspiration and my outlet for things I never even considered letting out before, but here we are, writing smut after smut.

So Kinktober continues, even though I've already put so many different kinks into the three pieces I wrote for it, but I'm sure I'll find more to explore soon. You just wait, my mind is a deep and dirty well of even dirtier ideas.

[ masterlist ]

Previous Kinktober submissions:

Pleasant dreams... and tentacles (somnophilia, tentacles)

It is that time again (breeding kink)

The horny ghost (voyeurism, masturbation, spectrophilia)

It belongs to me (deepthroating, semi-public)

A Filthy Fantasy (1/2) (cnc, bondage, sensory deprivation, orgasm denial)

A Filthy Fantasy (2/2) (threesome, oral/vaginal/anal)

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #kinktober

[the-witty-pen-name]

Love is Blind (Part 1)

Eddie Munson x PlusSize!F!Reader

Summary: In a last ditch effort to evade the normal disappointments of dating, a group of misfits desperate to have someone see who they are on the inside volunteer for the most recent brain chemistry study at Hawkins Lab. 

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Reader has low self-esteem and struggles with self love/acceptance, anxiety/trauma related to bullying, tooth rot worthy fluff, Eddie being a major flirt, cursing, mentions of substance use, brief descriptions of masturbation, smut in later parts 

A/N: I got this idea from watching the newest season of Love is Blind and getting genuinely annoyed that the show still doesn’t have a more size inclusive dating pool. I feel like the show  could be so much more. There are many subjects the show could be featuring that it just doesn’t. Anyways, this is incredibly self-indulgent, Eddie Munson loves plus size women and I refuse to accept otherwise. Enjoy!

Please consider reblogging/commenting if you like it!

Day One: 

Eddie’s palms are sweaty, and he nervously wipes his hands on his jeans repeatedly. He bounces his leg, twisting the rings on his fingers. Fuck, what the hell is he even doing here? He’s sitting on a couch, facing a blank wall, and he’s absolutely scared shitless that he’s finally doing this. Hell, if it bombs, he gets some cash for participating. Whatever, it’s not like he actually believes in this shit. 

He’s up and pacing the room when he finally hears a door on the other side of the wall open and close. He literally jumps over from the back of the couch to get back in his seat. He can hear the faint patter of someone walking. Then it stops, he assumes the person on the other side has taken a seat.

“This is so weird,” the voice from the other side of the wall says, and Eddie feels immediately at ease. He chuckles, shaking his head, standing up to walk the pent up energy out. 

“Batshit,” Eddie exclaims in agreement. “I don’t know what I’m even doing here.”

“I’m here for the $200,” the voice jokes. “But that’s just me.”

He’s instantly relaxed, and suddenly, it doesn’t feel like he’s sitting alone in a drafty room on a lumpy couch. He’s intrigued, and ready to play the game. At least, he’s open to this first conversation. He feels a little better knowing that he’s not alone. He sits down finally, rubbing his hands still. 

“I’m here,” he begins, allowing himself to be a little vulnerable, “because I am sick of the way people look at me.”

“Fuck, amen to that,” the voice responds with a clap, and the reaction makes Eddie grin from ear to ear. “Guys are so shallow, no offense.” He laughs.

“I’m not usually this outgoing,” the voice shares, sounding a little more reserved, “There’s something about you not looking at me that's making me a little more brave.” Eddie thinks this girl sounds so incredibly sweet. He’s never been attracted to someone’s voice, but he’s feeling himself being pulled in. It’s gentle, and kind and not deserving of whatever the world did to you to lead you here. 

“Well, I’m used to being the spectacle,” Eddie sighs, leaning back into the couch, slumping down. “I can’t help it,” he exhales, “I mean, people think the worst of me no matter what I do, so like, fuck it. I’m gonna have fun with it.” 

“Is that all of it?” the voice asks, knowingly. Eddie scoffs at the perception. Is he that obvious?

“No,” he cringes, and he hears a giggle from the other side of the wall. It helps him feel more comfortable. “Um honestly,” he continues, a little shy, “Part of me keeps the act up cause if people are watching me, I’m not alone. I’d rather be the laughing stock than have no one acknowledge me at all.” 

“I’m the opposite,” the voice shares, “I’d so much rather be out of sight out of mind.” 

“Doesn’t that get lonely?” he asks softly. 

“In my experience,” the voice continues, “it has always felt like people keep me around so they feel better about themselves. I know that’s not true- I know my friends love me. I just- being by myself is my comfort zone. I don’t need to worry about how I’m like being perceived. Or if, like, I'm being judged.” 

Eddie nods understandingly, until he remembers you can’t see him. 

“I get it,” he says, trying to be comforting. “I, uh, yeah.. People don’t like… they don’t like understand what it feels like when you just feel simultaneously so small and like you take up too much space- and how they’re the ones that make you feel that way.” 

“Wow- I’ve never heard it put into words so well before. That’s just been my life, you know?”

“We’re really getting deep huh?” he jokes, chest swelling with pride when he hears the laugh. 

“I really like your voice,” the voice admits, and Eddie feels his face heat and he’s sure his face is flushed red from the compliment. His ego has been very much stroked at this point, and he takes the opportunity to fully embrace this whole flirting thing. If he can at least leave this experiment making someone feel good, then he won’t consider this a waste of time. 

“Well, I really like your voice,” he quips. “Actually, uh- I’ve been sitting over here, on a really shitty couch. And I was asking myself what the hell was I doing here? I am probably the worst person for this experiment- I don’t think I could take this seriously. Then, I heard your voice- and I instantly felt attracted to you- if you can believe it. Now, I’m over here, your voice bringing out thing I would never fucking say out loud. I’m pacing around, you’ve made a mess of me.” 

It feels like only a short period of time goes by, but in actuality, Eddie and his mystery date get wrapped up in talking for over three hours. He talks to her about music, his favorite books, his Uncle Wayne… sharing more about himself to a total stranger than he’d ever volunteer to even his close friends. You swap childhood stories, commiserate over bullies, and before he knows it, he thinks you might know him better than anyone. 

A timer buzzes and it’s time for Eddie to move on to his next first “date.” As the door opens and one of the technicians is ready to escort him to the next room. He desperately stares at the wall before he moves, hoping to hear the voice one more time. 

“Please, if you’re still there,” he says standing up, “I want to talk with you again tomorrow.” He knocks on the wall, rings tapping. He receives a knock back, and he grins devilishly, 

“It’s a date.” 

The technician taps his shoulder and he nods, letting them lead him out to the next room. He wraps an arm around the mousy guy as he jots down something on his clipboard. “I have a date tomorrow,” Eddie beams, looking back at the blank wall like he’s looking back to get another glance at you. 

Day Two:

You still tug anxiously at your shirt, making sure it’s not clinging to your belly. Even though none of your dates can see you, you can’t shake the self conscious feeling. Yesterday was draining, all of the dates you had fell so short after that first one. Nothing came as easy to you as that first one, and you’re hoping you’ll get to talk to him soon. 

You take a sip of your water, and opt to move from the couch to the floor. You sit criss-crossed and stare at the wall in front of you. You really focus on your breathing and try to let yourself open up. You’re here because you’re hoping to find someone who likes you for you- but no matter what, you’re still incredibly anxious thinking about the big reveal. No matter how well the conversations go, you worry it will be null and void once they see you’re plus size. 

“Please, please, please for the love of God that this is finally you?” you hear a familiar voice whine, and you can’t contain your smile. “Pretty girl, c’mon talk to me.”

“You don’t know what I look like,” you scoff, but still, you feel yourself still melting like putty. 

“Fuck, finally,” mystery boy sighs, and you hear him collapse on the couch. You can only assume his set-up is the same as yours. “Baby, I have been dying to hear your voice again.”

“This experiment not working out for you?” you ask, sympathetically. You find it hard to believe he’s not chatting up everyone else and hitting on them the same way he does with you. It’s the only explanation. You can’t let yourself believe he genuinely feels differently towards you. 

“No this sucks,” he says, and then you hear him blow a raspberry. You can’t help it but laugh in agreement. “I just want to talk to you.” He sounds so vulnerable, and you actually find yourself believing him. 

“Again,” you retort, rolling your eyes, “You don’t really know anything about me.” 

“I want to,” he sounds so sincere, and it makes your heart swell. “You are the least boring person here.” 

“I’m touched,” you reply sarcastically, and you feel good hearing that you made him laugh. 

“I wish I could take you out,” he says and he sounds closer, like he’s sitting up against the wall. “I’ve got like no fucking money,” he laughs. 

“I hate going out,” you reassure him, “I want to just hangout with you.”

“No, no, no,” he says dramatically, “No safe zone. You deserve to go out and be shown off. I am not gonna lock you away from the world, I’m gonna show you off.”

“And how are you gonna do that?” You quip, letting yourself slip into a little bit of a fantasy. You let yourself feel wanted and feel desirable even if it’s contained to this room. 

“Well, not to be like that guy,” he’s suddenly sounding a little shy and you find it very endearing. “But like, I’d want to bring you to one of my band’s shows. Like- don’t get me wrong, we play at like really shitty bars that take way too long to drive to. And we don’t even make back the money the gas costs to get there, but like, I really like it and um, that’s uh when I feel I’m at my best, and I’d want you to see that side of me.” 

“So what does bringing girls to a show look like for you?” you ask nervously, feeling a little twinge of jealousy that he may have done this before with someone else. 

“Sweetheart,” he chuckles, “if I was capable of getting girls out in the wild do you think I would’ve signed up for this?” You laugh a little. “Trust me,” he further explains, “This is not something I never imagined I could do before talking to you.”

“Okay, okay, I take it back,” you reply, and you're sure he can hear your smile through the wall. “Let me rephrase,” you say, taking a deep breath, “What does bringing me to a show look like?”

“Well,” he exhales, “I’d pick you up, in my really nice and not sketchy at all van that doesn’t make any questionable noises. I usually drive the guys too but honestly, fuck them, I want us to have time together. I don’t mind telling them to pound sand. And don’t feel bad for them, they’re also kind of assholes.” 

You can’t help but giggle, noticing he tends to have that effect on you. He makes you nervous in a really good way, and you try hard to fight it, but you worry that it’s no use. As much as you find yourself really enjoying mystery boy’s company, you can’t help but let that fear creep in that all of this will go away if he ever sees you. 

“But anyways,” he continues, “I’ll admit it, I’m a little bit of a show off. And I know if you were there watching me, I’d just like be putting my all into it. I would really try hard to impress you. I’d also want the pricks there to know you’re with me so no one bothers you, so as much as I know you’d hate it, I would point you out and tell the whole place you’re there with me.” 

Your face is so warm, and you can’t hold back the cheesy smile that has expanded across your whole face. You can’t believe a guy would be genuinely that proud to have you there with him. You really do think that he’s being genuine, and it makes your heart soar. 

“I’m really surprised you don’t have girls fawning over you, rockstar,” you smile, wanting to make him feel special too. Even if this crashes and burns, you can tell he’s a sweet guy. You can see that maybe he’ll let you down gently. You don’t know why your insecurities hold you down this much. You, more than anyone, get in the way of your own happiness. You’re determined to not let it affect you this deeply. You resolve to let yourself see how this goes, and to throw yourself into it- willing to get hurt. 

“Trust me,” he scoffs, “I am not what you’re thinking I am. I’m not like that guy, I’m more awkward than anything. I think girls are more interested in the football star guys, the future suits, you know? Guys with a haircut and go to college- They don’t want to waste their time with a going nowhere punk.” 

“I really don’t think that’s true,” you speculate, “There’s no one with a poster of Jack Welch on their wall- but every girl I know has a picture of Eddie VanHalen.” 

“Is there like a peephole in here or something?” He says jokingly, knocking on the wall, like he’s looking for one. “Or are you just a psychic or something?” 

“What are you even talking about?” You chuckle, raising an eyebrow, confused. You shake your head, but before you can’t get clarification, the buzzer sounds, marking the end of your time with him for today. 

“NOOO,” you hear him dramatically exhale. A muffled voice, your assuming is one of the lab techs must be exhausted. 

You press your hand to the wall, as your form of an intimate goodbye as the technician holds the door open for you. You get up from your spot and head out, excited to come back tomorrow for another round of dates. 

Leaving Hawkins Lab, each test subject needs to stagger there exits as to not risk accidentally seeing the other candidates. You are in a small waiting room, doing your daily exit interview with one of the neuroscientists. 

*** 

Under the agreement you signed when you volunteered for the experiment, you are not permitted to go to any locations where people socialize and congregate. You’re not permitted to go anywhere where you may accidentally see or meet one of the other subjects. You are required to only go out on necessary errands such as grocery shopping or appointments. 

On the drive back to your apartment, your mind keeps overplaying the worst case scenarios your anxiety keeps conjuring. You know the whole point of the experiment is to see if love, or whatever trumps physical attraction. If hypothetically, someone does fall in love with you- your appearance shouldn’t be a factor. However, it’s not wrong for you to want your partner to be attracted to you. And you acknowledge physical attraction is a thing and if you aren’t someone’s type that isn’t bad either. Your past experiences and unresolved childhood traumas surrounding your appearance and self-esteem, makes it difficult to allow yourself to see that you are actually desirable. 

Although unknown to you, a lot of people in this experiment feel the exact same way. Not fitting into the box society wants to slot them in has made dating incredibly difficult for many. There’s a comfort knowing everyone there supposedly wants the same thing as you, just to be loved. You weren’t sure going in that you would even make connections with anyone. At first, it felt like low stakes- worst case scenario you walk away no better off than before. But, you didn’t anticipate actually hitting it off with someone like you have, and it’s opened a whole new set of fears. 

***

At his trailer, Eddie just stares up at the vent in the ceiling above his bed. He blows out another puff of smoke and watches as it swirls and wafts up into the air around him. His thoughts are consumed entirely with you. He watches how the smoke from his blunt mixes with the smoke of his burning incense and his mind drifts, just completely fixated on how the minutes on the clock tick by until he can talk to you again. 

He wonders if you’re thinking about him, the same way he’s thinking about you. He wonders if you’re trying to picture what he looks like the same way he’s making guesses about you. He thinks about if you smoke, and he imagines what it’d be like if he was sharing this with you. Thinking about what it would look like, your lips around the joint, blowing out smoke from what he imagines is just a sexy mouth. He can’t help but close his eyes and let a little frustrated groan escape at the thought. 

He can’t picture the entirety of you, but more so he can imagine just your presence in his room. He imagines the feeling of someone laying beside him, smooth skin he can run his hands across, the warmth radiating off of another body in his bed. He has your voice in his head, wishing you were talking to him now. 

With his eyes closed, joint put aside on his ashtray, he imagines it’s your hands tugging down his jeans, and it’s your hand wrapping around his hard cock that’s staining the band of his boxers now. He thinks about your laugh, and that adorable giggle of yours, and how much he can bask in the fact that it’s him who elicits those reactions from you. He thinks about the sweet voice, the flirty fluctuations of your tone when you warmed up to him. He imagines you using that same voice to tease him if you were here, seeing just how much of a mess you’ve made of him. 

He’s never been able to get off without some kind of visual aid, so to speak, before. Now, he’s practically whimpering just thinking about the sound of your voice and thinking about your hands on him. He thinks about the feeling of your hands working his length up and down. He imagines how playful it would be, rolling around on this bed with you as the layers you're both wearing come off. He doesn’t even need to try to think about what you look like to feel aroused by you. He doesn’t even care in the slightest at this moment. 

He’s so needy, twitching as he feels himself get closer, and he thinks about what you would be whispering in his ear to get him to finish. He imagines the praise, and the way you would be begging for his cum. He realizes he doesn’t even know your name, as he’s hit with the urge to call it out. 

“Fuck, pretty girl,” he moans instead, working himself up to his release. He keeps moaning out his little nickname for you until he’s made a mess of his shirt and he’s gasping to catch his breath as his orgasm extracted all the energy from his body. 

Tomorrow, he resolves, he needs to learn your name. 

PART TWO

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x plus size!reader #eddie munson x plus size!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fan fic #eddie munson stranger things #plussize!reader #eddie munsons x F!reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn characters #joseph quinn stranger things #joseph quinn eddie munson #smut #mutal pining #eddie munson series

[xzhdjsj]

Iron on my Tongue

Isaac x Reader

Isaac has a bad feeling about your meeting. (Isaac's POV)

Warnings: anxiety, description of blood, death of character

@chilliesillie and @kieran-rhoades created a vivid image in my mind of this scene so here it is written for you my loves<3 I hope I was able to capture this the way you imagined!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It’s a dim afternoon, grey clouds are settled in the sky with a promise of rain later and the wind is chilly. My partner isn't with me right now, maybe if they were I would be enjoying the weather more. I hope they make it back home before the shower.

They're out on their own business, a meeting with a client I introduced them to. As much as I'd like to pride myself in my improvements thus far, I still can't quite let them leave the house to meet someone completely unknown to me. Whatever client I hand over to them are well researched and kept on tab to ensure their meeting environment is a safe one and they’ll be able to get back home to me.

I still have my doubts regardless, but I can't control their every move. They deserve to live.  It’s funny because they tell me the same thing, "Isaac you deserve to live, without the worry and torment."

I don't think I'd ever be who I am today without them. The day I met them all those months ago, I'd never believed it if someone told me we'd not only be partners in my field of work, but also lovers. They're the one thing that means the most to me and I absolutely cannot let them get hurt. I trust them, and I know they'll do their best to stay safe but the underlying worry still bothers me.

There's this unusual feeling in my chest, the kind I haven’t experience in a while and worst of all, I'm not sure why it's there. It's bearable, but it's not. A distant but static feeling that hazes over my body and clouds my senses.

I take a sip of my coffee and its burns my tongue. It's hot, way too hot.

"Fuck" I pinch the space between my eyebrows and sigh.

My luck hasn't been the best today, but maybe a shower would wash away whatever this is and I can finally settle down. I push the cup aside and head for the bathroom, peeling the clothes from my body.

I let the water slide off my skin, the only thing on my mind is them. I could chalk this feeling up to just my anxiety, but this is more. This is an additional weight that presses against my chest and squeezes at my heart. An extra burden to carry on my shoulders, one I'm unfamiliar with yet I distantly relate to. Some sort of gut feeling that’s pointed in some unknown direction. I could easily pick up my phone and call them but their voice rings in my head.

"Here's the deal Isaac, no calls from you this time. We have to work something out little by little until you're comfortable with me leaving the house. Instead of you calling me, I'll call you before and after my meeting. Deal?"

I agreed to it of course. I want to be better. For them I want to be better, so each time I think of calling, I turn my phone screen down. I know their meeting started at 3pm and lasts about two hours, so I'm expecting a call at 5.

I step out the shower, tying my robe at the side. The first thing I do is glace at the clock.

4:55

I should be receiving that call soon, and since a shower did absolutely nothing to sooth my nerves, I'm hoping their voice will.

I'm back in the kitchen again, my phone sitting in front of me and I reach for the coffee I had left earlier. I take a sip and now it's too cold. What a day. I dump it down the sink without a second thought, it’s not important right now anyways.

5 o'clock rolls around and I'm impatiently bouncing my knee. There isn’t a single notification from them. 10 minutes. I'll wait 10 minutes and then I'll call. The feeling in my chests grows heavier and heavier and I'm counting down every second. I can't look away from my phone, waiting and hoping to see my screen light up.

5:07

That's basically 5:10 right? If I call now, it wouldn't make a difference. I frantically find their contact and click the small button near it.  I take a deep breath, then exhale. It's okay. They'll answer and say their meeting ran a little late and scold me for not waiting a full 10 minutes like I promised. Nothing bad is going to happen. I’m able to fool neither my mind nor my heart.

It rings, and rings, and rings... then disconnects.

There’s no answer. My heart rate picks up and I call again.

Same as before, it rings but no answer.

I attempt to call again, but the phone slips from my grasp. I hadn't noticed it before but my palms are clammy and covered in sweat, cold sweat. I drag them against my robe and quickly snatch the phone off the floor, skipping a call entirely to find their location.

The little icon is not at their meeting location, it’s not at the coffee shop they enjoy visiting, its nowhere close to home. Instead it stays stagnant at a foreign location, a maze-like pathway between a block of buildings.

I’m unsure about almost everything at the moment, but one thing I know for certain is that I need to find them. I leave my house right away. I call until their voicemail is engraved into my skull. I send text after text, but there’s still no response. I check their location again but the only icon that moves is my own as I get closer to my destination.

The rest of the way I need to continue on foot. I have a gun tucked into the waist of my pants and I don’t know what awaits me, or if I’ll even be able to fight it but if I don’t find them I might go completely insane. My stomach turns at the scent, and sight before me. It’s a dirty alleyway, much dirtier than the one I found them in. It makes me sick. The unease in my body casts over me like a giant shadow and it’s starting to make sense. It feels like a rat in my stomach trying to claw its way through my mouth. I hate it. I hate it so much.

I find their phone, their bag and random sheets on paper scattered through path. They’re covered in muddy footprints and soaked in murky water. Something bad happened, that much I knew, but there’s 3, 4, 5 maybe 6 pairs of footprints here. They were outnumbered.

“Name!” I yell. “Where are you?”

I run further and further down but there’s no sign of them. My heart is pounding against my chest and I’m so so scared. I’m looking everywhere but there’s no one here. I grip onto my hair in frustration. Where are they? Did those people take them away? Who were they? There’re hundreds of people who’d want to hurt me but specifically WHO?

“I-Isaac…?” a weak voice calls behind me.

I’m overcome with relief when I hear them, but the state I see them in as I turn around fills me with worry and rage.

They’re holding onto the mouldy walls, sliding down to the ground when they couldn’t support themselves anymore. Their body and clothes are covered in mud and dirt, ripped and bruised. I rush over to them, supporting their weight against my own body.

I’m worried, so worried but I’m relieved they’re still here. I’m relieved they’re still alive.

“God, Pickle” I place a hand against their back, its warm and wet, and they wince in pain at the pressure. “Where are you hurt? Who did this to you?”

“Isaac,” they smile up at me, a hand reaching for my face. “You came. I knew you’d come.”

I hold their hand against my cheek. “Of course, my love. I’ll always find you I promised to protect you always.”

“My knight.” Their voice comes out faint and dull.

“Yours, always yours.” I lean down to kiss them, gently on their lips. It was supposed to be a simple kiss, more as reassurance to my self than them but I taste iron against my tongue, metallic and salty. I pull away abruptly and their body bends forwards choking on coughs as the red liquid spills from their lips. Blood.

It's on the concrete, my pants and my hands? The hand I had against their back… It's covered in blood?

Their jacket wasn’t soaked with water? The warmth I felt wasn’t from their body? It was their blood.

“Isaac.” Their hand is on my face again, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’re *cough* spacing out my darling.”

I don’t bother responding, pulling their jacket off their shoulder. Red, it's all red. Their shirt is soaked through and through with blood and ripped in multiple areas. Stabs, fuck they were stabbed.

“No no no!” I panic. “I need to do something, I need to get you out of here!”

“Isaac please, I can barely move. Its’s *cough* gonna be okay, just please stay here with me.”

“How could I let this happen to you? Why not me instead?” I feel tears roll down my cheek and I’m terrified.

“It’s not your ugh fault Isaac. Please, for my sake, don’t blame yourself.” Their voice continues to weaken. I feel stupid for honouring their request of just staying here, but some part of me knows that there’s nothing I can do now.

 “Isaac, I love you”

“Yes, I know my love. I love you too, I love you more than anything.” I feel like a child again, crying my eyes out. I should be the one comforting them, but my voice is filled with fear and my breathing is unsteady.

“Thank you… for all you’ve done for me.” Their voice fades in and out. “Please don’t ever forget me”

Their hand falls from my face but I catch it pressing it back onto my skin. “No, you have to keep your eyes open! Please! Keep your eyes open name! Don’t let go of me!”

“I’m… sorry Isaac. I don’t think I can.” They barely whisper, their eyes struggling to stay open.

“No please, not now! I’ve only just gotten you, you- you can’t leave me yet.” I held them close, sobbing into their hair.

We never made it home before the downpour. I stayed there with them to the very end. I held them in the freezing cold until their breaths slowed. I held them until the warmth drained from their body and they also grew cold. I stayed there until left me for good.

I held my composure, for their sake, wrapping them in my jacket and took them home. I washed their body until they were completely clean before tucking them into bed. One last time, they were by my side. Tomorrow they’d be resting in my garden resting among the flowers, and my mother would finally meet the love of my life. I hope she’d be proud of me, I hope they’d reflect fondly of me.

I hope they’d forgive me for the things I must do in the future.

I hope they’ll shield their eyes and stay blind to the things I will do. Every last breath of mine will be used to avenge them. I will find those who are responsible for this, and I’ll make sure they regret it.

I couldn’t protect as a knight, so I will destroy everything as a shadow.

#oh look its more isaac angst! #zsakuva #sakuverse #asmr #isaac #isaac rhoades

[halfagone]

A Mandalorian Halfa Jedi?

I am thinking... about my Danny Phantom x Star Wars AU again. I mentioned this in the Haunting Heroes discord server, but imagine this:

Danny gets lost in the Star Wars universe, maybe they're part of the same universe, maybe not. We know that Earth technically exists there, so it's possible. Nonetheless, Danny gets lost and is eventually picked up by the Jedi. It is during the Clone Wars era, at the height of the war. Ectoplasm either functions the same as the Force out in larger space, or it easily passes off as the Force. Therefore, Danny is considered Force-sensitive and brought to the Jedi council.

He's far too old, older than even Anakin was, but he already displays some skill with the blade (thanks to his mom's training), and he's far too powerful with the Force to leave for the Sith or Dark Side users running about to find him. Those like Count Dooku or Asajj Ventress or whoever Dooku's master is (and, depending on the timeline, Maul and his brother Savage as well).

It's decided that Obi Wan should train him, since he did well with Anakin despite Anakin's older age for a youngling and lack of familiarity with Jedi customs and culture. As well as Obi Wan's own young age as a Padawan himself at the time. Surely, Obi Wan could whip him into shape and they need all the help they can get on the field.

Anakin does not like Danny at first. Not at all. He might have joked all he liked beforehand about Obi Wan getting another padawan, but seeing it happen is an entirely different experience. Danny gets along well with Obi Wan, with his dry, witty humor and his tendency for unorthodox strategy. Worse still, Ahsoka likes Danny. These two are peas in a pod, partners in crime. It feels like he's been forgotten and replaced and by someone seemingly better.

And then one day, when the 212th and the 501st are stationed together, he finds Danny shaking with night terrors, the Dark Side so strong in him Anakin is literally freezing from the cold. It's only then that he understands Danny a little bit better, and sees himself in this kid. Danny fights the Dark Side within him just like he does, and he never lets it consume him. Maybe for once, he can learn a little something from this kid too, and not let it overwhelm him.

And here is the part where I realized a golden opportunity:

What if the Jedi think Danny is a Mandalorian that was cast out for being Force-sensitive? Danny has an affinity for weapons beyond the blade, like cannons and guns and snipers. He talks about how his family taught him to use these weapons, that he's known this all his life. He talks about how his family wears suits all the time and hardly ever takes them off. He talks about always being afraid to reveal his powers to his parents, and how ultimately he ran away because of them.

Oh all the scenarios that could come out of this~

But now I'm also thinking about how strong Danny would feel in the Force. How much Danny could do on the battlefield because now he doesn't have to hold back. Droids might have more intelligence than a lot of sentients give them credit for, but if it's between the very alive, flesh and bone, clones of the Grand Republic Army and the Separatists' metal droids, Danny is absolutely going to be ruthless if it means the clones are safe.

Danny can literally control the weather. Imagine what happens when Danny creates an electrical storm for the first time to take down an enemy starship and the clones just look between themselves, whispering about how: "I didn't know Jedi could do that." "Is that how the Force works?" "Kriff if I know-"

And that's another thing! Clones! Danny would be absolutely appalled that so many clones were created and their freedom at the end of the Clones Wars is still up in the air.

It also ties beautifully with his love for space and now he's living the dream! Except space isn't what he thought it would be. And there are planets out here that have barbaric standards. It's the adventure of a lifetime! But there's a part of him that still wants to go home.

Just- all the possibilities and shenanigans this could bring. ✨

#danny phantom #danny phantom crossover #star wars crossover #halfagone rambles

[lolbital]

My hazbin hotel ship opinions!

• staticradio: my favorite, my obsession, my life. It is very obvious in the show that Vox is obsessed with Alastor. The most common opinion in the community is that it’s one-sided, but I like to think Alastor pulled away because he was afraid of his reciprocated feelings towards Vox.

•radiorose: This is my second favorite Alastor ship. They are super cute and they’re quite perfect for eachother. I just enjoy their friendship too much to actively ship them.

•radioapple: I only understand this ship because it seems like they have existing tension, but otherwise I don’t enjoy it. Alastor and Lucifer’s relationship was never expanded on beyond their immediate rivalry. Maybe if season 2 gives them more interactions or a backstory I will be able to get behind this ship a little more, but I really can’t see this as anything more than a boring rivals to lovers trope.

•staticmoth: It’s okay, but I don’t see them as much more than a sexual relationship. I don’t think Valentino is capable of genuine love.

•polyvees: I see Velvette as more of a younger sister or daughter to the other vees. This is just my preference! I don’t think this ship is necessarily bad.

•bombsnake: I think they’re cute. Unfortunately I don’t think Cherri really has returned feelings for Pentious. Based on their interactions she just seems interested in experimenting sexually with him because of his anatomy. I could be wrong though, so I’m very open to this ship!

•Charlastor: I see Alastor as a father figure or older brother to Charlie. Especially after the Hell’s greatest dad song, I just can’t ever see them in a romantic situation. I am not against the ship, but I personally don’t like it.

•Chaggie: I have nothing bad to say about them! Their relationship is healthy and I think they’re perfect for eachother. I particularly enjoy the fact that Vaggie was an ex-exterminator because it truly promotes Charlie’s idea of redemption. I am going to be extremely upset if Vaggie gets redeemed and gets seperated from her gf.

•radiodust: most people who ship this probably still have the pilot in mind. They don’t interact a whole lot in the show, and I see this as more of a crackship than anything.

•huskerdust: It looks like they’re going to be getting a slow burn relationship and I’m so happy about that. I like to think that Husk is refusing Angel’s advances because he knows he’s only doing it because of hypersexuality at first. I’m 99% sure that is what is canon too. I want to see their relationship grow.

•radiohusk: I am sorry but I can’t get behind this whatsoever. Husk absolutely hates Al, and Al owns him. There is no equality in this relationship, and it would get toxic very quickly.

•radiomaid: I love their dynamic but only as friends. I know Nifty is an adult, but she acts so childish and Alastor still owns her. I don’t like the power imbalance and maturity gap.

•alastor/lilith: if the theory that Lilith owns Alastor is true, then I am interested to see if we get a backstory about them, or what they might’ve been doing for 7 years. As of now I am neutral.

•guitarspear: these two menaces belong together. It seems like Lute really cares about Adam too which is an added bonus.

•Adamsapple: definitely a crackship. I don’t know what to say other than I find it amusing.

•valdust: I despise this ship. There is a very abusive power, and it is proven that Anthony is nothing more than an object in Val’s eyes. There is no love here, just manipulation.

•royalhalo: cute, but even better if It’s poly with Vaggie. If emily becomes a fallen angel, Charlie could have two gfs and I stand behind that.

•lucilith: I hope they get back together. Lilith better have a good reason for leaving.

•Vaggie/Angeldust: most probably ship this because they were likely a longtime viv follower. I’m not against this ship necessarily, but I could never get behind it. Maybe I just adore chaggie and huskerdust too much.

#hazbin hotel #staticradio #staticmoth #radioapple #radiorose #alastor x lilith #radiomaid #radiohusk #chaggie #angel dust x vaggie #poly vees #cherri bomb x sir pentious #charlastor #radiodust #huskerdust #guitarspear #adamsapple #spidermoth #royalhalo #hazbin hotel ship