#It depends on a person people don’t have the same personalities simply because they fit into the same demographic category lol

[lieutenant-amuel]

People always justify “awkward quirky teenage girls” by saying what teenage girl would not be awkward and quirky as if all teenage girls are the same.

[katuschka]

Everybody's Got a Secret

Josh Kiszka x f!Reader

3.393 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings: This is filth!, mild erotic asphyxiation, unprotected penetrative sex, oral sex (both f and m receiving), light bondage, masturbation, dirty language, sub&bratty&cheeky Joshua, open relationships

Masterlist Taglist

My doors were always open, and no questions asked. Everybody’s got a secret, and in this particular case, in this time and space, his secret had my name.

No strings, no obligations. Both of us had those already somewhere else. Both in long-term relationships with other cocks that just weren’t always available… or able. Hence the arrangements were made and doors were opened…

When my husband was out of town, which happened more often than not, I spent my days in my downtown apartment, because I hated the big and quiet country house when he was not in it, playing his piano or keeping fit in his basement gym. Always a hopeless romantic, an old soul in a mature body, he made sweet love to me in that house. With his kids already raised and gone, he offered me a new chance, away from the abuse and sorrow that was my old life. He gave me an opportunity to pursue my dreams and a new home in that big, silent mansion. Always grateful, I cooked his meals and did the laundry there. 

And we both knew that it was not enough. I would do anything for that angel of a man. He couldn’t do everything for me. But that’s ok. Everybody’s got a secret, and he willingly granted me mine. I wasn’t delusional either, I knew there were other women… 

So, as long as he didn’t know the details, I could do whatever I wanted in my cherished hiding place, the only condition being that I pay my rent. Fair enough. More than fair. It was a place where I reigned, after all. The big house was my home only as long as he wanted me there, but that was it, that was the agreement, too. So I eventually learned to fend for myself in every way. That was our mutual goal. One day, I would be alone again. I was almost sure of that. But thanks to him, I would no longer be lost. 

It was a bit different with Josh. He had almost everything since the day he was born, and he gained even more as the years went by, simply because he was talented and brilliant and surrounded by his equals literally since the days he was still in the womb. He had people. He had love too, and they were almost a perfect match, save for just one tiny little thing. Josh was a shameless slut, always on a hunt for a healthy dose of naughtiness and depravity. Josh loved dirty fucking, he loved to experiment and he needed his fix from time to time.

His man just couldn’t force himself to do it. He only made love to him. He also didn’t have enough holes. Or meaty pillows. Not exactly Josh’s preference, but a welcome bonus when it just clicked. To keep things interesting, he said. That was when I entered the building…figuratively speaking, because I never EVER crossed the threshold of their house. Secrets don’t do such shit.

He knew about my existence, and that was ok, as long as he didn’t know my name or my face. The sentiment was mutual. He didn’t want to meet me, see me, acknowledge me. Ever. Josh made sure he wouldn’t. 

So, my doors were always open and Josh called whenever he needed. This time, my phone rang at 2 a. m..

It was a 45 minute drive from his place to mine, depending on the traffic. At night, it would be less, but still enough time for me to get ready. So, when he rang my doorbell at last, I answered in his favorite vintage slip dress, holding two glasses filled with wine. Like a valley doll. 

“Well, well, well, what brings you here at this ungodly hour?” I teased, watching him grin at me in return. 

“Stupid question, darling,” he answered, while running his finger gently down my bare upper arm. “The reason remains the same. You’re a comfort blanket for my dick, and I need you to do some ungodly things to it tonight.”

“That’s a lovely sentiment. So you need to have your dick comforted?” I snickered and handed him his glass and he nodded in appreciation, taking a sip without breaking eye contact, pursing his lips around the rim with the tip of his tongue sticking out just a tiny bit. He always did that when he wanted to communicate his neediness. “What happened? Trouble in paradise?” I cooed, while making room so he could enter.  

“Don’t ask, and I shall not lie, remember? But since you asked so nicely – no. I have had some trouble with certain lyrics. I need my muse. Will you help me?” He wasted no time, already making a beeline to my bedroom. Pausing at the door, he glanced back at me, fishing for the answer he didn’t need. Of course I would. 

“Always there,” I chirped again and stuck my tongue out at him playfully, following him without haste.

Pausing in the doorway, I leaned against the door frame and took a sip, watching him unzipping his fly already. He was always gorgeous, whether dressed in plain white cotton or embroidered organza. But preferably naked. Lean, but not skinny. Toned, but sweet. Bare like a statue…until he raised his arms up and I fainted. Always. 

“Eager, aren’t you! So no small talk today, I assume?” I was eager too, knowing what was coming. 

Always a tease, he rolled his hips lewdly and, glancing at me through the ridiculously long curtain of his eyelashes, he puckered his lips, inviting me to join him by the bed with a loud and playful smack. “It’s not a day, darling. We’ve no time to waste before the sun comes up and orders us to be elsewhere.” 

A fucking poet, sometimes spitting dreamy verses down at me even in between moans during the actual animalistic process of fucking, like a true artist that he was. I watched how he batted his eyelashes at me again. Ridiculously long, indeed… “Did you put some mascara on, Josh?”

“And if I did?”

I licked my front teeth in silent anticipation. He was needy and ready to play the mouse, which in return made me greedy and instantly wet. Meow! “Joshua! Do you want to cry tonight?”

After he took off the last sock, he flexed his shoulders and straightened, facing me completely; already stark naked and already completely hard, his second weeping head nodding at me, greeting me like an old friend. “I voiced a plea, and I gave you a hint. You’re the director tonight.”

The plan formed in my head the moment he called. Even before that, actually. I’d lie if I said that I didn’t care about what he did for a living and how. Watching videos of him performing was one of my favorite leisure activities when he was away and out of touch. It made the anticipation ever so sweet, because his stage presence was just as sensual as his bed behavior. I knew what he was capable of, while others only imagined. 

“Did you bring your payment with you?” The word payment was a deliberate, whorish choice, completely ok only because I was the one who started using it one day, and the only one allowed to use it. God forbid if I’d ever heard it leave his mouth. He’d have to dry hump the mattress instead, and let me watch his torments. He loved the whore in me, but alas! The only way to get a taste of it was to treat me with respect. Night-time calls meant that he would have to grant me one wish, often in the form of a prop.  At night, I was ALWAYS in charge, giving him what he wanted, but it was always delivered my way. 

This time, I ordered him to bring one of his beaded scarves he wore onstage. Now he pulled it from his man purse and placed it in my waiting hand ceremonially, like a cherished treasure, smiling at me with little sparks dancing behind his pupils. “Am I going to be tied up with this?” 

“Oh no baby, I have my handcuffs for that.” He watched me swirl the scarf around his head and tie it tightly around his neck, leaving one end long enough to tickle his left thigh. Swinging it like a pendulum, I let the heavily beaded end hit his throbbing cock with a faint tinkling sound. 

I reveled in watching his immediate reaction: his eyes widened and lips parted in shock. He quickly tried to hide it by darting his tongue out and curling it against his upper lip, but his heaving chest betrayed him. This was when he was at his cutest, figuratively or literally on his knees, but always too stubborn to give in entirely.

“See, I’m gonna use it as a leash, if necessary,” I explained and took a small step back to admire my work. “Don’t you like the idea?”

He narrowed his eyes at me and those plump lips curled up into that bratty grin again. “Oh I like the idea very much. I’m ready to be…bad.” 

“Bad,” I whispered,and circled him like my prey, which is what he essentially was. Hugging him from behind, I let my hands travel up his chest, grazing his right nipple with my fingernails while the fingers of my left hand closed around his throat. “Bad boys don’t whine,” which was exactly what he did when I applied a little bit more pressure. He tilted his head back and rested it on my shoulder, eyes closed, showing me how much he loved being under my control. 

“You look really lovely like this. Makes me think… You know what we haven’t tried yet?” I was now intentionally rubbing my lace-covered tits against the tense muscles of his back, whispering those words sultrily right into his ear.

“No…” It was but a hoarse whisper already. It was fascinating how much power his voice normally held, but I always managed to gag him with ease. 

“I'm thinking… pegging you from behind, doggy style. With this,” I tugged at the scarf demonstratively. He yelped, his knees buckled for a split second and his whole body shook as if from cold. He was stupendously aroused. I loved it!

“Yeah, exactly. Like a bitch,” I twisted the end of the scarf around my hand and tugged again. The most delicious whimper escaped his lips and I watched him wrap his right hand around his twitching cock, while the left one reached behind and rested on my thigh. He gave himself a few slow strokes, then slid the hand down to cup his balls. “Oh yeah, please, do that, I’m already aching…”

“I’m really glad you like the idea, baby, but not today. Another time.”

“Why not?” He turned around and tried to win me over with those puppy eyes, but I had a very clear vision in my head. It had occupied my mind so much that I already bought some new additions to my bedroom inventory, just for him. I grabbed the scarf again and drew him closer to me so that our lips were almost touching. I tightened my grip, holding the scarf right under the knot below his ear, and twisted my fist slightly. He swallowed with difficulty and his wide eyes glimmered with undiluted lust. I licked his parted lips with the tip of my tongue until his eyes rolled back. Only then I finally released him and he stumbled backwards.

“Because you wanted me to do ungodly things to your dick, not your ass. Now onto bed, chop chop.” I smacked his tiny, perfectly rounded ass and he obliged, climbing on the bed with exaggerated sway like a tomcat, performing just for me. He turned around then, and spread his legs, licking his index finger lewdly while he shook the end of the scarf with his left hand until the beads tinkled again. “M’waitin’,” he breathed out and moaned around the finger. Such a slut!

I took one more sip, stripped too, and joined him on the bed, climbing right in between his thighs, admiring his cleanly shaven treasure. “You have a truly beautiful dick. It absolutely deserves some profane treatment.”

“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it,” he responded, his voice shaking ever so slightly when I pressed my tongue flat to the underside of that gorgeous cock and licked a long stripe all the way up. I laughed. “So humble.”

“Darling, I’ve seen many cocks in my life. I know mine is awfully pretty.” 

“Hmm, how about you balls?” I cupped them gently, while crawling up to kiss him, tickling his chest with my hair.  

“Also exceptional.” He kissed me back, then pushed my head back down. 

“That’s why you keep them on full display all the time?” I bent down to lick around his areola before I sucked the nipple in between my lips, still refusing to go back down and suck on his cock instead, even though he bucked his hips up several times, giving me a clear hint how impatient he already was. 

“Flaunt…aaah…flaunt what you’ve got. God, you’re such a tease.”

His tone was dangerous this time. I looked up to meet his deadly, bratty stare. “You’re in no position to look at me like this.”

“Yes, I am. My thigh is completely wet from how your cunt already weeps for me.” He made another lewd gesture, putting his fingers in a V shape in front of his mouth and sticking his tongue through it at me, flickering it up and down. Yes, very suggestive. I’d love that. Continue and we’re both gonna get it. He usually got a warning first. 

“You’re a hoe, Joshua Michael.” I grabbed the scarf and pulled to the side. He inhaled sharply with a wheeze and looked daggers at me.

“Go on, I love high praises,” he spat. “Especially when they’re coming from your dirty mou…uuughn...” I didn’t let him finish the sentence. He would get what he asked for. Scrambling up as quickly as possible, I landed on my knees on each side of his head and sat on his face, effectively silencing him.  

And it was what he wanted. Grabbing my buttocks to pull me even closer, he instantly buried his tongue between my folds, making me gasp. I had to grab the headboard to keep myself from falling or hurting him as he enveloped my clit with his full lips and started sucking. This position was my Achilles heel and he got me there in no time. Two, maybe three minutes until my thighs started shaking. I looked down at him and he wiggled his eyebrows at me, before he closed his eyes and moaned loudly, as if he was eating the most delicious ice cream. Fucking tease. I inhaled sharply when he flattened his tongue and swirled it gently one more time around my swollen bud. The orgasm swept through me like an electric shock and I had to bite my forearm to muffle my scream. He was cruel, licking me through it and inducing more and more waves and aftershocks until I had to grab him by the hair and pull at it to still him. 

I creeped down his body, smearing my juices all over his skin and peppering his chest with kisses, before I straightened up again, hovering above him. “Tamed?” 

He looked up at me, ready to retort again, and finally saw the big silver hoop that hung from the ceiling right above my head. His eyes widened and sparkled with confused anticipation. “What’s that?”

I let out a satisfied exhale and smiled down at him. “That, my dear, is the surprise I got for you tonight.” I crawled towards the edge of my bed, opened the largest drawer of my bedside table and pulled out a silver chain with leather cuffs on each end. I let it fall on his chest. “Sit.” 

“What?”

“I said sit!” When he did, I pulled the chain through the hoop and told him to put his arms up. He was unnaturally silent all of the sudden, doing as told, and I fastened the cuffs around each wrist. When I was done, he just sat there, legs spread as I knelt between them, chest heaving and arms up, armpits glistening with sweat, just the way I wanted. He looked sinful. I admired this view so many times before, him reaching for those high notes or who knows what else. He would be reaching for pleasure tonight. First things first. I tugged at the scarf and pulled him closer to me, connecting our mouths in a searing kiss. He kept moaning as our tongues danced together. It made me even wetter. 

When I finally broke the kiss, I looked down at his cock, slightly reddened and rock hard, and ran my finger down his length. He squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered. “Do something…please!” 

Finally, the magic word. 

He cried out when I put him in my mouth and swallowed him whole. I could hear the chain rattling but I couldn’t see, lying on my stomach and fully immersed in giving him pleasure. He cried some more, and moaned and groaned and whimpered as I kept bobbing my head up and down, up…swirling my tongue around his leaking head, and down…tickling his balls with the stuck out tip until I gagged. I stopped only when his hips started jerking upwards, telling me he was very close. I wasn’t done yet, not until I felt him in me. 

I sat up again and saw the smeared mascara under his teary eyes. “Oh my baby, so beautiful,” I cooed and caressed his cheek, smearing it even more with my thumb. He looked exhausted and pursed his lips at me. “Please,” he whispered. 

I finally straddled him, positioned myself and slid down. His mouth opened wide but no sound came out. It made me pause for a second, raising my chin in a silent question. “Won’t last long,” he breathed out, so I started slowly, rolling my hips languidly, while I watched him watching me. The room fell silent, only our synchronized breathing permeating the air.

He looked down at the scarf, then back at me again, his eyes full of wicked gleam. I threw it over his shoulder and tugged at it from behind, making his head tilt. His ragged breathing and his barely noticeable, but content smile made me feel high. The intoxicating smell of his heated body made me even more lightheaded.  I hugged him tight and traced my parted lips up his jugular as I quickened my pace. His moans broke the silence again and I followed suit. Running my hands up and down his back, I could feel droplets of his sweat trickling down my biceps. I never believed in heaven, but this was close. Even closer to hell, maybe.

He wanted to take control, but couldn’t. Not without his arms supporting him. He was completely at my mercy and when I leaned back on my arms to get a better traction, the head of his cock hitting my inner pleasure button made me cry out. It didn’t take long and the spasms of my second release made me clench around him. In my high state of mind, I nearly missed his moment. Only his high-pitched scream pulled me back to reality. I had barely enough strength in me to untie him at last. And then we collapsed on the pillows, completely spent and happy. 

We often cuddled afterwards, we always showered together, but he never stayed. The sun was already rising when he left this time. I buried my face in my pillow to inhale his scent that always lingered. Falling asleep to the sweet and heady smell of Chergui was great comfort in twilight hours. Many times, I imagined what it would be like to just rest my head next to his and drift away like that, with his messy curls tickling the tip of my nose. Someone else had this privilege. Someone who loved him, and thus deserved it. 

In the middle of the night, I was sometimes honest with myself, admitting to myself that I loved him too. But that’s ok. Everybody’s got a secret.

@its-interesting-van-kleep @takenbythemadness @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @ignite-my-fire @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @lvnterninthenight @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @sanguinebats @thewritingbeforesunrise @wetkleenex-gvf @lyndz2names

[sweet-creature101]

Kiwi

Summary: Harry recently started his solo carrier and Sarah recommmeds y/n as his lead guitarist. Harry finds himself intimidated by y/n and y/n could not care less.

famous!harry ; an enemies to lovers trope

part two

warnings: mention of alcohol. Swearing. Suggestive language and sexual tension.

“Come on Harry trust me on this. It won’t go downhill. She’s really good.” Sarah pleaded her case for the tenth time since the past one hour. Harry was certain she would talk his ear off.

“What was her name again?” Mitch asked Sarah.

“Y/n.”

“Sarah, I don’t know about this. I’ve known you all since a long time and it’s easy to work with you.” Harry said, slightly skeptical about a new addition to his team.

Harry knew who you were, a very successful songwriter and one hell of a guitar player. He knew you worked with bands like 5sos, 21 Pilots and even wrote a few songs on Taylor’s swifts album, Reputation. He saw you at a concert once and immediately fell in love with the way your presence consumed the concert wholly. No one cared about who was singing because everyone’s eyes were fixated on the young seductress clad in black leather and playing her instrument as if her life depended on it.

“You can only grow if you’re out of your comfort zone.” Sarah firmly stated, crossing her arms over her chest huffing out a breath.

Harry thought about it for a good minute. He needed someone with experience and you seemed to have it. You knew how to write and what to write. Perhaps a little experiment wouldn’t be so bad.

“Okay. I’m trusting your judgement on this.” Harry said nodding.

“Great because y/n’s in the elevator right now.” Sarah said giggling slightly. “Thank God you didn’t say no. Would’ve been a difficult conversation.” She mumbled, relived at how the situation panned out.

The apartment bell rang and Sarah jumped out of her seat startling Mitch who was sitting next to her. She took long strides towards the door.

“Y/n! Oh my gosh, it’s been ages! You look wonderful!” Sarah said hugging you. You smiled and hugged her back, glad to meet her once again after what seemed like a century.

“Thank you. How’ve you been?” You asked her, not bothering to take note of the two men who seemed to scrutinise your interaction with quite a lot of concentration.

“Same ol’ same ol” Sarah chuckled as she let you in.

“Harry, Mitch meet y/n.” Sarah introduced you to them. You found yourself in an awkward postion so you simply gave a wave and a loose smile.

If Harry was a ball of sunshine then you were a raging hurricane. The two of you were polar opposites. Harry radiated warmth and seemed to be the kind of person whom other people could talk to. Meanwhile you on the other hand were someone who kept to themselves.

Harry couldn’t help but notice your sweeping eyeliner. He observed it quite attentively, how it was winged at the edge of your eye and in the inner corner as well in a feline manner. You wore low waisted jeans with a fitted graphic black tee shirt that ended just below your navel, showing a silver of skin.

“So y/n, what’s your work like?” Mitch asked you.

“I write mainly rock but I’m open to new suggestions.” You said. Sarah nodded as if to say ‘awesome.’

Your voice was firm and authoritative as you answered the question. Harry found himself completly entranced by this complexity of a person that stood in front of him. He figured it out the minute you walked into the room with your head held high that working with you wouldn’t be easy.

“Do you have any questions Harry?” Sarah asked him. Harry only nodded no.

“Great. Im going out for a smoke.” You said leaving the three of them alone again.

“She’s scary.” Harry said once the door shut. Sarah rolled her eyes in response. “She’s a no nonsense person Harry.”

“And scary.” He added again.

“I know you’re not used to people like her. Just because you’re both literal opposites doesn’t mean she’ll eat you alive.” Sarah snorted. “You like her, don’t you Mitch?” Sarah asked him. Mitch only swallowed and replied, “I like her better on stage.”

“Oh hush both of you. Give her time.”

——————————————

“It doesn’t sound good.” Harry huffed out impatiently, staring at the lyrics he scribbled. It had been more than a week since everyone started to work on his debut album.

Harry began to habour a certain disliking for you, owing to lack of your participation and one word answers. You would sit away from everyone, scribble in your diary and would rarely look up from its pages.

“You know what guys, let’s just take a breather yeah?” Jeff, Harry’s manager said getting up from his chair and stretching his legs.

“I’m going out for a walk.” Sarah said, pulling Mitch to his feet as well. Harry was about to get up as well but Sarah mouthed to him; ‘talk to her’ as she gestured towards you. Harry looked at her with wide eyes and was ready to protest but Sarah was quick on her feet.

“Y/n.” Harry called out your name. You looked up at him, the loose strands strands of your braid fell down framing your face. You raised your eyebrows as if to say ‘speak on.’

Harry cleared his throat. “What are you writing?”

“Nothing much. Just an idea.” You said. That was the most you had spoken.

Harry noticed that today, there was no eyeliner but smudged kohl lining your eyes. You opted for a plain white tank top and a pair of mini cargo shorts. A surprise for Harry who was much too used to seeing you in black.

“I think, everyone would appreciate it if you would participate more you know?” Harry said. You only nodded and went back to scribbling.

“See! This is what you do y/n. You don’t talk. You’re so busy doing God knows what. I get it, you know you’re talented but that doesn’t mean you’re better than us.” Harry exploded. You shut your dairy hard and stared at him with rage.

“It’s been almost two weeks since you joined us. Have you contributed in any way?” Harry added, his voice reaching a higher octave and getting louder by the second.

“First of all, I don’t think I’m fucking better than you and second of all, instead of blaming me why don’t you recognise the fact that you’re scared and absolutely clueless.” You spat at him.

“I’m not scared.” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah right.” You scoffed rolling your eyes. “You’re so scared that you’re putting the blame on me just because I’m the newbie. This solo carrier is new to you and that terrifies the shit out of you Harry. So much that you can’t even work. If I have to be the punching bag then I’m fucking leaving.” You stated grabbing your bag.

“You don’t know shit y/n.”

You didnt care about what Harry said next as you walked out of the room.

—————————————————

“Was it really necessary Harry?” Jeff said, rubbing his head with his hands. The stress of not having completed the album began to increase.

“I told you, ‘give her some time.’ Did you do that Harry? No. You just had to say something.” Sarah said, flinging her arms in the air.

“I mean, was Harry wrong though? Y/n was… just there you know. She didn’t talk, she didn’t help. Good riddance I say.” Mitch said.

The whole group was torn up over this. Harry began to feel guilt overpower him, but the rage he felt at your words was far too much for him to hone. He knew you were right and he hated you for that. He hated you for the fact that you were so good at reading him. Harry knew that you didn’t talk because you were shy but because you never found yourself as engaged as the others. You were aloof, and gave the impression that nothing bothered you at all.

“It’s been what; six days since she stormed off?” Jeff asked harry.

“Seven.”

“Jesus.”

Harry was certain that you overreacted to the situation. Granted, you didn’t want to be here and Harry left no stone unturned when it came to reminding you his dislike for you.

The door bell rang, Harry got up to look through the key hole. He felt the colour drain from his face. It was you. Standing in front of the door.

“It’s her.” Harry whispered with his eyes wide.

“You know I can hear you, ya dick. Open the door or I’m leaving.” You, irritation lacing your face.

You began to hate Harry or at least develop an aggressive aversion towards him as time passed. You hated how he seemed to have enough energy throughout the day to burst into a song. You hated that he was all smiles and giggles every second of the day. The only one thing you liked about him was how intimadated he was by you. But you knew that he could be much more terrifying than you when the time came.

“Pick your poison.” Mitch said.

Harry opened the door to meet your black smudged eyes. You push him as you enter the room and slam the diary on the centre table with a loud thud.

“Here you go. You said Im no help at all. Well I beg to differ. I’ve written three songs.” You said. Harry picked up the diary and flipped through the pages.

Kiwi

Medicine

Only angel

Strange names for such explicit songs.

Harry passed the diary to Sarah who looked at the songs with amazement.

“Harry we’ve got to add these.” Sarah said, excitement lacing her eyes.

“I don’t need anyone to plead my case. If he likes them, good enough.” You said, your voice unwavering as you looked at Harry who narrowed his eyes at you.

“I like them.”

—————————————

Within a week, all recordings were done and the album was ready to launch. Jeff suggested that the four of you should to go out, let off some steam because life would never be the same once the album got released.

Everyone was quite surprised when you suggested a place to party. You were quite intent on getting shit faced because the past month had been a whirlwind to say the least.

You wore a black mini dress, encased with sequins that was backless. Your eyes were lined with heavy kohl and mascara. Your whole face was bare other than your eyes.

“Johnnieeeee!” You exclaim to the large bouncer, a smile on your face as you high five him.

“Y/n been a long time. I see you’ve got friends.” He said, eyeing the people behind you.

Sarah felt that the club you brought them to too was far too dark and dingy for her liking. It was dark and the music was blaring. The club smelt of sex, drugs and alcohol. Your natural habitat. She held Mitchs hand in hers who was amused at her behaviour.

“I promise I’ll be good.” You say, looking up at him with doe eyes and a sly smile. John chuckled and let you in the club.

“We have go to do shots.” You exclaim to all three of them. Harry was surprised at your behaviour to say the least, he never would’ve pegged you as someone who even had the ability to smile let alone laugh.

“Nope. I’m driving.” Sarah said throwing her hands up in the air.

“Jeez such a buzzkill.” You said making Sarah roll her eyes. You stuck your tongue out at her as you made your way to the bar with Harry and Mitch.

“Don’t stop till your at least ten shots down.” You said with a cunning smile and excited eyes.

“Ten?!” Mitch exclaimed.

“Six.” Harry interjected.

“Deal.”

Harry learnt a great deal about that night. Especially the fact that you have a tendency to dance with almost anyone and everyone.

He saw you make your way to the dancefloor, not bothered about the fact that you had no one to dance with. You swayed your hips to the song, your arms moving and a bright smile etched on your face. You were surrounded by men and women. Harry saw you dance with a man whom you didn’t know, he wished you would be that carefree with him.

After an hour of drinking and talking, Harry found you dancing on the table with a few other people.

“Is this normal?” He asked Sarah who snickered in response. “Yep. She’s a fun drunk.”

You spot Harry and get down from the table, stumbling forward. The strap of your heel loosened and Harry quickly caught hold of you.

“Wait a second.” Harry said, as he kneeled down to fix your strap. Once he got up he saw your glassy eyes laiden with lust and simply smirked.

“You like watching me get down on my knees for you, huh?” Harry whispered in your ear, his grip harsh around your waist as he pulled you towards himself . You felt heat rise up your thighs and stomach.

“Isn’t that what men are good for anways?” You whispered, closing any gap you two had as you put one hand behind his neck, tugging him closer to you. “Don’t think this changes anything betwen us Styles. You’re still a nightmare.” You whispered to him in his ear slowly.

You stood so close to each other that you could feel each others heat radiate. Harry’s heart raced as his eyes met yours. You were cautious with your gaze, afraid that if you looked any longer in his eyes, he might spot the hunger in yours just as you might see his making you lose any self control you exercised.

“I have someone waiting for me.” You spoke, breaking the silence. Harry raised his eyebrows in amusement as his hands wandered down your waist to your lower back. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he left a bite there. You let out a soft moan, turning into complete putty in his grip.

“I could fuck you much better y/n.” He said, his voice dangerously low.

“I don’t want to be fucked missionary style that’ll leave me unsatisfied.”

“Your moan said otherwise.”

Two can play this game.

You wiggled out of his grip, ignoring the throbbing between your legs as you sauntered towards the dance floor, blowing a kiss at Harry from a distance.

——————————————

“Hello?” Your groggy voice spoke into the microphone of your phone. Your head throbbing due to last night.

“Y/n. Where are you?” Jeff asked you.

“Home.”

“Come over to Harry’s. Got something to discuss.”

“I’ll be there in five.” You said before hanging up on the phone.

You washed your face, put on a large tee shirt and an oversized pair of sunglasses. You brushed your hair and slipped into your slippers. It was a ten minute drive to Harry’s house. The radio was silent. The windows were rolled down because you needed fresh air now more than ever.

You reached his flat and rang the doorbell.

“My my look who’s here.” Harry taunted as he opened the door to see you in an oversized tee shirt, legs bare and slippers. He couldn’t control all the thoughts that seemed to slip in and out his head as he saw your legs.

“Show me your eyes love.” Harry snickered knowing they must be bloodshot. You flipped him off and plopped down on the bean bag, groaning as you held your head.

“You seemed to have a lot of fun last night.” Mitch said, getting a stare from Sarah. “You should see the videos.” He added. Your head shot up at his words.

“Videos?”

“Yep. They’re too good.” He snickered. You removed your sunglasses and pounced at Harry who began to play videos of you dancing on table tops.

“Give. Me. The. Damn. Phone.” You said in between breathes as you attempted to strangle Harry. You were about to smack Harry but he picked you up by your waist, throwing you on his shoulder.

“Put me down.” You stated firmly.

“Only if you don’t strangle me.” Harry said chuckling at your sorry state.

“I don’t make promises Styles.”

“Too bad. I’ll post it if you continue to be a brat.” He said.

“Fine.”

Harry put you down, running a hand through your messy hair which you swatted off. He noticed how young you looked without lining your eyes, a different girl, perhaps even innocent. You looked like a doe. You looked beautiful.

“You’re drolling on the carpet Styles.” You said rolling your eyes at him.

“Am I supposed to deny that I find you attractive?” He questioned, his voice low and alluring. He spoke slow enough to make your thighs quiver. Your mind suddenly flashed you images of how his large hand felt against your waist last night.

“I’m too hungover for this.” The only defense left.

This was new to you. This feeling of loathing someone to no extent but also finding them undeniably attractive. Attractive enough to make your thoughts wander off to forbidden places and scenarios.

“What happened to your neck?” Sarah said, noticing the love bite that Harry left the other night. You rolled your head back as you rubbed your eyes with a yawn. Harry felt proud to say the least, he smirked and winked at you while you barely controlled the urge to smash his face in the table neck to him.

“Why am I even here?” You said groaning. “The work is done. The albums done. What do you possibly need for me now?” You added.

“Come to tour with us.” Jeff said, his manager persona now showing.

“What?”

“Yes.”

“It wasn’t in the contract Jeff.”

“Consider this, an impromptu decision.” He reasoned with you.

“I’ll do only concerts. No interviews. No playing for videos and no recordings.” You said.

“Deal.”

You huffed a breath as you reached for the glass of water next to you. “That’s mine!” Harry whined. You flipped him off as you wore your sunglasses and went to sleep.

“Oh y/n what’s your Instagram?” Jeff asked. You scoffed at his question, “don’t have one.” You simply said. “Well, Harry follows his band members so-”

“No.” and with that you went to sleep.

—————————————

The album was a success to say the least. Everyone seemed to recognise Harry as Harry styles and not as Harry from One Direction. It was bitter sweet to say the least. Harry was excited and enthralled to be able to embark a whole new journey.

The album release party was a success. But you weren’t there, Harry had called you not once but twice asking you why you weren’t there.

“Y/n, it’s already six, why aren’t you at the party?” Harry asked you on call.

“Because I didn’t plan on going.” A short answer. Your one word answers now began to become a bit longer but they annoyed Harry nonetheless.

“The whole band’s here.”

“I’m not part of your band Harry. I helped you write your songs.” You stated.

“But you’re going to tour with us.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

And now as Harry stood in front of the stage, waiting for the crowd to pour in, he wondered where you were. You had insisted on driving to the show venue on your own instead of travelling with the band. Harry tried to persuade you but you didn’t budge.

“Is she here?” Harry asked Jeff who only nodded no. Harry was getting worried now. He was supposed to get ready, but he was much to engaged in wondering about your whereabouts. It was his first show and your words about him being scared rang in his head.

“She’ll be here don’t worry.” Jeff said.

By the time Harry got ready, he spotted you, a cigarette in your mouth as you look towards the stage. You wore a latex, dark emerald coloured waistcoat that resembled a corset. It pushed your breasts together and ended just above the curve of your waist. You wore low waisted black bell bottoms. The waistcoat and the bell bottoms gave off the illusion of an hourglass figure. Your eyes were covered in your signature feline eyeliner, curving in the inner and outer corner of your eye.

“Y/n!” Harry called your name. You looked up at him, a lazy smile on your face as you disposed the cigarette.

“My my look at you styles. A fucking prince you are.” You said snickering. Harry stuck his tongue out at you. He wore a red blazer clad with black flowers and the same pattern was all over his trousers. His hair were unruly yet only added to his charm.

“Ya scared?” You asked him.

“No. I mean, I’m just…. excited yet scared you know?”

“Hmm.”

“You stick out like a sore thumb.” Harry said, his eyebrows raised at you as he scanned you up and down.

“Excuse me for not wanting to dress up as a fucking rainbow.” You said scowling at Harry who passed you a smile. “Y’know what would really go well with your top?” Harry said, his eyes twinkling. “What?”

“Wait.” Harry ran off of to his dressing room, fetching a silver cross necklace. The cross was heavy and large, engraved with swirls and very small rubies decorating it. Harry gestured you to turn around, his hands brushed against your skin as he snapped it’s lock in place. The cross rested against the curve of your breasts, demanding attention and praise. “How about a hickey to tie your look together?” Harry questioned.

“From you? Not even in your dreams Styles.” You said. Harry smirked at you and went towards the stage.

—————————————

Harry felt alive. He felt free and invincible on stage. But you, you were the personification of sex. The minute Kiwi began to play, the crowds focus shifted from Harry to you.

You whipped your hair back and forth, your back arching, a cigarette encased in your pink lips, sweat gleaming down the curves of your waist, breasts and arms. The crowd went absolutely wild as you winked at them. Harry’s photographer, Lloyd was entranced with you. He couldn’t help but photograph you. Your eyebrows were sinched together in focus, your eyes closed, your mouth slightly open and your body fully arched.

After the first concert, the fans and media were deep diving into who you were and tried to uncover your identity. As the tour progressed, the crowd began to make posters stating things like “we’re here for y/n!” “Give us y/n!”

There were pictures of you everywhere, playing the guitar as your face morphed into an expression which Harry called your “orgasm face.”

Harry was asked about you during interviews as well, the media was left questioning about your identity and they found themselves allured by a recent stunt you pulled at a concert.

You jumped off the stage during Medicine and went up to a man, roughly around your age if not older. The man lit the cigarette in your mouth with his lighter as you winked at him and murmured “thank you love.”

—————————————

The tour had finally ended. You were in your dressing room, your chest heaving up and down. The adrenaline after the show still lingering in your blood stream. You removed your top and were standing in your bra, the minute Harry barged in.

“Knock on my door ya’dick!” You said, crossing your arms over your chest which did nothing at all to ease Harry since your breasts were pushed up.

After months of sexual tension, Harry finally felt himself crack.

“Got to teach you some manners.” You murmured.

“Really?” He tutted, pulling you by the loop of your jeans.

You understood where this was heading. “Hmm.” You hummed, moving your hands slowly on the buttons of his shirt. Harry caught your wrist making you look up at him. He looked in your eyes, deep and seriously as if to contemplate his actions. You pulled him by his neck, close enough that your foreheads touched.

“M’gonna regret this.” He whispered. He didn’t give you a chance to respond as he connected his lips to yours, his tongue swirling in your mouth. His hands wandered down the curve of your spine and lingered there. You deepened the kiss, letting your hunger overpower you. He wasn’t close enough, you needed his skin next to yours, rubbing, you needed to feel him, you needed him.

There was a knock on the door, you immediately recoil away from Harry although his hands were still on your bare back. “Y/n, Vanessa’s here for you.” Laura, his assistant said.

Vanessa and you were supposed to head out to paris the next morning. Harry felt a hole cave in his chest, remembering about your departure.

“I’ll be there.” You said.

You kissed Harry, a sweet and soulful kiss. Not the one that was ruled with consumption and the urge to mark.

“You should stay.” Harry whispered, holding you.

“I never stay anywhere for too long.”

Harry looked at you, his eyes staring into yours as you squeezed his hand. “Who’re you gonna strangle now?” You laughed remembering all the times you tried to strangle and choke him, resting your head on his chest.

“I’ve got to go.” You said, slipping out of his grip, slipping on a tee shirt as you picked up your stuff.

Harry looked at you with a look of longing. How stupid. How cruel. How unfair. He thought to himself as he saw you leave.

“When will I see you again?” He asked you.

“When it’s the right time.” You said, kissing his cheek.

——————————————

Authors note; how are we feeling about a part two? let me know in the comments section <3

[a-chaotically-small-lunta]

what is G/t

G/t is, in its simplest form, the size difference trope. Think of those episodes in shows where the characters shrink or grow. It’s one of those tropes that can be slapped onto literally any media. It’s one of the most common tropes tv shows would use, alongside things like time travel, alternate dimensions, gender swap, just space, and more! G/t stands for Giant / tiny, which is usually the main focus for most people. There are many different things you can find in g/t from soft and cute scenarios to more angst and horror-like scenarios. It just depends on the person. G/t is usually very safe for work with some getting close to the edge of nsfw but never fully crossing it. On tumblr there is a very clear difference from the sfw and nsfw stuff (With g/t being the safe stuff and micro/macro being nsfw, usually)

Now the main thing about g/t is the size difference. With characters interacting with differently sized items or people. The G is the giant which is typically used for whoever the bigger (literally) person is. So it’s not always gonna be a giant and will sometimes be a human. The t on the other hand is the tiny person, which just like the G, can include a human sized person. As long as the size difference is great enough (each person has their own thoughts on when size difference becomes g/t or is simply tall person with slightly shorter person) then it is consider g/t. Now a tiny or giant doesn’t necessarily need to interact with their counter part, it could be something simple like a tiny fairy exploring an abandoned house, or a giant roaming the country side. If the person doesn’t “fit” in the environment it can count. (Which is probably why a lot of us use it as a coping mechanism. Cause like you don’t fit in and it’s easier to imagine literally not fitting in)

There are many kinds of character in g/t too! Tinies and giants can range from “That’s a human who is big/small” to “that’s a person who is big/small, but they have some extra features (like wings or horns, etc) to “that’s a creature/alien…a big/small one…oooohhhh” Most people in the community usually vibe with one of the sides. Most people are tinies, some a giants, and then there’s people like me who couldn’t decided and liked both sizes for different reasons and said “SCREW IT! Sizeshifter time”

There’s a lot to g/t and it’s kinda hard to describe and yet so simple to describe too. Each person into it, loves it for so many different reasons. It’s basically the trope that me and many others really love to many unique degrees. It’s literally about new perspectives and seeing our world from them, in a very literal sense sometimes. When you know about g/t you start seeing it everywhere, commercials, movies, tv shows, games, etc. The stories may have the same trope but each delivers it in such a unique way that, it always feels brand new and like an amazing adventure!

If you have any more question, or if anyone else has questions about other g/t things I can try my best to answer them (I’m very bad at answering asks, sorry about that) I may not be the best at explaining things, but I can sure try my best to!

Also, if you want to check it g/t out more but are a little scared to explore websites, I made a YouTube playlist (that I randomly update whoops) that has a bunch of g/t stuff in it. If you want to get a vibe of what it is. It’s organized (kinda) so you can check out the movies, games, animations, etc. I suggest watching the movies first because they tend to just be fun to watch even if you aren’t into g/t. And no worries, it’s a pretty clean content wise.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Maybe it is not because of cgi movies but because how bad written the characters especially the villains. So far the only villain I can think fits is Mother Gothel because of how well-written her character is despite lacking of powers and a twisted version of her helps. Although they did take inspiration from CGI movies like Big Hero 6 for that chapter 6 plot and even took some TV shows like Lion Guard which it revealed to have lion guards in Leona's hometown.

[Referencing this post!]

As I mentioned in the original post, yes; TWST does take inspiration from and make reference to many Disney properties regardless of artistic medium. This extends to their animated and live action films and shows, as well as musical productions (the whole plot line with Rollo having a little brother that was led astray by sin comes from an obscure Hunchback of Notre Dame German musical) and more. It’s just that TWST has yet to introduce characters in their own universe explicitly twisted from characters in the 3D era, whether villains or not.

Seeing as the big “sell” of Twisted Wonderland is its villain-based characters, I can see why one might think poor quality of the original (3D) Disney characters would be a factor in preventing them from being successfully adapted. However, I personally don’t think this is a huge consideration since that would imply Disney’s old villains are all written significantly well when some are simply generically evil or not that interesting (though this will vary depending on who you ask). Besides, it would also discount the fact that no matter how low quality or boring the original villain was, they can always be “dressed up” and given a more interesting story and character by the TWST team; they are not 100% beholden to the mold the original Disney character set.

I definitely agree that many of the more recent villains aren’t the… strongest… (if we had a villain at all, that is). Mother Gothel is the only one that immediately sticks out in my mind as a great villain from the 3D era. (She’s so uniquely wicked in how she gaslights and manipulates Rapunzel.) However, we don’t know if the people on the TWST team also hold this same opinion of disliking the 3D era and letting that actively influence their design direction for the game. It’s very hard to discern what the overall sentiment is since we don’t often hear from the TWST devs and just make assumptions of what the popular opinion is based on what we hear from our own social circles.

With the deliberate 3-4 years of staying with 2D animated characters (+ the G7 being some of the most iconic Disney villains) and now the Platinum Suit line now making references to the classics, I really think nostalgia is the main motivator rather than TWST (or Disney) questioning the quality of their 3D stories and characters. If anything, they (Disney, that is) seem pretty eager to stroke their own egos about mega box office and merchandising hits 😂 Frozen, anyone?

[allbluemin]

Results and responses from the survey on the divergent opinions regarding the human/ape ship of the Planet of the Apes franchise.

🔍How old are you?

🔍Do you consume monster/human content?

🔍Fiction is a term that designates imaginary and unreal narratives, which is why many people tend to defend their works using this term. They state that everything is nothing more than fiction, so, as in the case in question, the ape/human relationship should not be problematized as it should not be compared to the real world. Do you agree with this statement?

🔍Leave a comment delving deeper into your previous answer.

🍎It should not be compared to the real world because anthropomorphized apes that talk and have human intelligence and characteristics are not real. We created them. A lot of fandom's arguments against a human/ape romance use real life morality, but they forget these are fictional humanized apes in a scifi/fantasy story. A story whose narrative and overall themes will inevitably force us to ask hard questions and explore weird ideas. And yes, that includes asking: "What would it mean for a human and ape in this story to get together?"🍎

🌼In general, I agree with the statement above, however, I think that any problem in literature can be considered as a possible problem in real life. Perhaps metaphorical or something else. So. I agree that it can be compared to real life, but I am against giving too much meaning to fictional reality. Literature is a way to speculate “what if?”, limiting this is stupid and harmful. It also indicates some problem or set of problems in real life and society.🌼

🌻Fiction shouldn't be trated with the same moral or ethical compass as reality. With this I don't mean fiction doesn't impact reality, but just that we can't treat them equally. Ficition impacts reality, but at the end of the day, apes like the ones in the movie aren't real, so there's not really a morally good or morally bad thing to want to fuck them (or not fuck them), and same with a ship involving apes.🌻

🍓Statement about that instance, yes but we can clearly see how fiction is affected by who its made of and how it in turn affects us. Women (characters) barely having roles in the past or having to fit into a certain mold and still doing so for example. Fiction does not exist in a vaccum.🍓

🍒I believe that while the kind of fiction that does affect reality, things such as racism and stereotypes, are a problem. Many works of fiction are simply fiction and do not affect reality in the way many assume it does.🍒

🍑Fiction is a great way to explore themes, metaphors, What Ifs, and a whole slew of situations. It doesn’t need to be good and pure—in fact, the really interesting stuff happens beyond that. Also, it’s just fun.🍑

🌷Literally nothing even close to resembling this ship could ever or will ever happen in real life. They’re literally not real. They don’t look like, talk like, think like real apes. How is it even problematic??🌷

🍁I don’t think that the statement “is just fiction” is legit everytime. But in this case i don’t see anythib wrong with that ship.🍁

🌾The apes aren't just regular apes like at a zoo, they have achieved sentience and have a whole society.🌾

🥑There are human ape kisses in the classic movies and nobody cared idk why people care now🥑

🥀Depends how unrealistic the ape is, too real ape is icky, king kong? perfectly fine🥀

🍇Apes are not fictional🍇

🔍Do you think the ape/human ship is different from a monster/human ship?

🔍Could you elaborate on an answer to the previous question?

🌼I think that the ape/human ship is xenophilia. I don't think the apes in the film can fit into the term "monster", so I refuse to consider this pairing as a monster/human. However, I come from a different cultural background than the typical American/English person, so I apologize if my opinion sounds offensive. In my circle, “xenophilia” refers to any craving for something unknown and alien, the term covers relationships with a wide variety of fictional intelligent beings (the spectrum is extremely wide) and is even sometimes (extremely rarely) used in the context of relationships between two people from very different cultures (for example a modern person or a person from a world with magic). Although it is still believed that one partner must NOT be a person in the classical sense.🌼

🍒The kind of apes, in both the old planet of the apes and the reboot, are in fact not like everyday apes. They've created cultures and languages and are closer to homo sapiens than those of apes now. Even their appearances are also changing. Some shapes to their faces, the way they stand, and even their eyes. They are fictional/mythical creatures that while having similarities to actual creatures the same could say about centaurs, etc.🍒

🥑The apes in the POTA franchise are evolved physically and mentally enough to be functionally alien. They’re not only sentient, they’re sapient. They’re capable of communication, love, care, connection. There’s nothing weird about it, just like there’s nothing weird about a story about a human romancing a big monster or a slimy alien. It’s all fair game. The original 1968 movie pitches the apes like they’re aliens anyway.🥑

🍑It’s a human with a “non-human sentient Other” and comes with similar baggage as your typical monster pairings (the differences, the fear, the awkwardness, the unexpected similarities). Just because the uncanny valley isn’t that deep (as it would be with, I don’t know, The Predator alien or an Uruk Hai) doesn’t mean it’s not a monster. Like, human/vampire counts, and that can be presented as barely nonhuman.🍑

🌻Apes like the ones in the movies are the same as monsters bc they are a different species and have special characteristics that makes them "monstruous" enough. An ape can be a monster as long as you consider "monsters" like vampires to be that.🌻

🌾They aren't just apes, they've been genetically modified. But they aren't full monsters either. It'd be like fucking Scooby-Doo, he's a dog but he's a sentient dog that isn't really a dog anymore. But is still a recognizable animal.🌾

🍓The apes in this universe are monsters. While I'm not one who indulges in this type of shipping, I don't think the apes are animals in this fiction verse so they fit in the category of monsters.🍓

🌷I guess you could call it that, but the monster fiction trope has developed into its own sub genre that I don’t think Noa and Mae fall into. It’s the two lead characters in a blockbuster movie.🌷

🍉In the context of the POTA films, I don't.🍉

🍇An animal is not a monster.🍇

🥀Again, depends on the ape🥀

🔍If you want to comment on something other than the previous questions and/or add more arguments to your opinion, feel free...

🌾Things written in fiction don't have to be morally okay in real life. That's one of the reasons we write fiction. You aren't a bad person for shipping an ape and a human as long as you can fully realize that a real life ape would never be a consenting safe partner for anyone but another ape. The idea that everything written should be morally okay is harmful for a lot of people. Fantasy has its place and should never be held up to reality's standards of ethics. That path leads to shame and repression that could seriously impact the mental health of generations.🌾

🍑I have been in this fandom on and off for literal decades and human/ape pairings have always been a thing. They have even been suggested in canon (kisses in both Tim Burton’s remake and in two of the original films: the first one and in Escape From…). This isn’t new, and it used to be embraced as part of the fandom. The vitriol and hatred in the current fandom is an unexpected switch for me, but sadly, the way fandom in general has been trending (“purity culture” where only morally good things are allowed), I can’t say I am too surprised.🍑

🌼I think the term "monsterfucking" is pretty fun and I have nothing against it, but I think for the sake of convenience a new, more inclusive term should be popularized. That is, is it possible to consider, for example, aliens as monsters and read pairings with them as a monster/human? What about a human/vampire? And so on and so forth. To my surprise, I see such discussions relatively often. Although perhaps I am biased and that is the only reason I see this as a problem.🌼

🍓I would like to add that the shipping here is fiction, yes, so I agree with that part of it but I also do not think fiction in general exists in a vacum. Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language either.🍓

🌷Free yourself from the thought police. Thinking is not a crime. Nothing about shipping two characters is a crime.🌷

🌻Almost anything fictional can be considered a monster if you think about it long enough.🌻

The results of the poll at the moment.

(I didn't know I wouldn't have access to the answers so I had to vote, sorry😭)

Thanks to everyone who participated! 🥰

[blindmagdalena]

Apologize if you’ve fielded an ask or twenty about this before, but how do you think HL would take it if Vought hired a masseuse to come in to work on him once in a while. Is he touch-starved or touch-averse? or both lol? Is he averse to having to take his top off? Since his muscles probably don’t actually get sore from anything does he pretend they do to get certain types of contact? - 🥰

i do think he's both touch-starved and touch-averse! every so often the idea comes up that there isn't any good reason Homelander isn't regularly drowning in physical affection/sex given how rabid of a fanbase he has, and i think that comes down to several factors:

his brand! it doesn't fit his brand to be sleeping around, especially with fans. i'm willing to bet this was strongly discouraged by Madelyn, along with any other "deviant" behaviors.

his deadly combo of superiority/inferiority complex. from the first episode, Homelander doesn't care about human life. even though he craves the general concept of love and approval on a mass scale, individual lives simply don't matter to him. they're beneath him, and he has a pretty high level of disgust towards people. he doesn't like touching them without his gloves.

i headcanon Homelander to be demisexual. i really don't think he experiences the desire to be touched by specific people unless the person in question has elevated themselves in some way in his mind, or he's formed SOME level of an emotional connection/dependency, even if it's completely one sided/imaginary.

absolutely his body issues are a factor. barely seems to like getting naked with partners, let alone strangers.

when i wrote Eat Your Ego, it didn't matter that he sought her out as an escort. he still entered that encounter hostile until he could find something in his twisted psyche to elevate a human enough to deem them worthy of touching him. the sequence of events in my mind was more or less: step 1, initial physical attraction. step 2, projection. step 3, antagonize/determine worth. step 4, form an abrupt and unhealthy attachment based solely on delusion and wish fulfilment. step 5, profit??? live happily ever after?? still figuring that part out.

i feel like the same would apply to this situation. he definitely WANTS tactile comfort. he likes the idea of someone touching him with the sole intent of bringing him pleasure/helping him relax, even in a non-sexual context. but if he was put in some situation where he was directly told to have a massage for some reason and he did comply, he would be a huge asshole about it until he settled into it. like a cat who wants to be pet but keeps swatting and hissing every time you try because he's so damaged.

once he was settled though? that's HIS masseuse now. daily sessions. he's their only client.

[denial-permanente]

In your experience (and, of course, your husband's) what are the pros/cons of the different materials for devices? It seems that plastic, resin, and stainless steel are the most commonly used, but they all seem to have different trade-offs (I know stainless steel is heaviest, for instance).

🔒Hey, Tom here. Chastity devices need to balance four different qualities: Comfort, Convenience, Security, and Sexiness.

Comfort is an essential quality: if a device is constantly scraping, chaffing, rubbing, or otherwise damaging your tender bits so much that you need to keep removing it, then clearly that device is not working for you, and you’re not going to wear it. Yes, some time for adaptation is normal, but having to deal with edema or rashes is not. For example, this is why some all silicone cages rate pretty well for comfort — the squishy silicone means that you shouldn’t need to worry about hard edges rubbing against your skin. Similarly, some of the stainless steel devices have smooth rings and edges (more comfort against your skin), but are sometimes offset by sharp edges on seams or the locking mechanisms.

Convenience is an often overlooked criteria when some people discuss their devices, but it really is just as important as comfort, for many of the same reasons. Convenience concerns the ease with which you can keep the device clean, and engage in your normal daily activities. If your device has to be removed a couple of times a day, that’s not especially convenient for your keyholder. If you can’t clean it properly, then you can’t wear it for very long. If you can’t work or exercise while wearing it, then that’s a problem For example, one of my personal criteria is being able to use a urinal; between my work and my regular activities, I can’t always find a stall. I can, however, find a tree when I’m working outside, or on a particularly long bike ride.  This is a reason that I avoid cages with tiny little holes (or worse, sprinkler heads) at the tip.

Fitting into the convenience category is the ability to wear a device under normal clothing. The old CB2000 and the Curve left rather odd looking or simply large bulges in most dress pants, and many of the lesser-known Chinese devices depend upon locks or fasteners at odd angles. If people at work keep staring at your crotch as if they are trying to figure out if you’re hiding something, then that’s not especially convenient.

Security: Some  of you might be surprised that I didn’t mention Security right at the beginning. That  is because, based on everything that I’ve read in the last twenty-plus years from guys describing their own experiences, if a device is not comfortable or convenient, then they aren’t going to wear it anyway, so the security is moot. By Security, I’m referring to whether or not you can masturbate while wearing the device, and if so, how successfully. While presumably any device will prevent intercourse, many allow some (most?) men some degree of manipulation to the point of orgasm (or at least, something that allows an ejaculation of sorts). While a lot of men rely on using tighter cuff rings or opt to get a piercing so they can anchor the end of their penis to the cage, the fact is that most of us do not need to remove the cage portion in order to have an orgasm. Some cages will do a better job than others, but no cage is Alcatraz (or Azkhaban).

So, if no device is 100%, why even wear them? Because when you come right down to it, men who are into being locked aren’t wearing them because their partners don’t trust them (i.e., they are not for preventing random intercourse); they are wearing them because they enjoy the idea of erotic orgasm control. The more inescapable the device, the more believable their internal script when it comes to their "willing suspension of disbelief." We want something that allows us to believe more completely in our fantasies of turning over the control of our orgasms (within some limits of reason that we set for ourselves). This is why we’re willing to settle for a fairly comfortable and relatively inexpensive Holy Trainer instead of a less convenient and much, much more expensive Latowski. So, security is ironically not the most important thing with a chastity device.

And that brings us to Sexiness. Let's face it, many of us think that these cages simply look sexy or erotic, based on some weird kind of criteria we have in our heads. Personally, I think the metal devices from Steelworks or Mature Metal or Badass Workroom are sleek and eye-catching. My wife, however, thinks that most metal cages look like old plumbing parts. To be fair, though, she also thinks that most plastic cages look like old plumbing parts.

All this is lead-up to answering the original question: All devices and materials have different pros and cons when you match them up against these qualities. Stainless steel is much heavier than plastic, but is more secure in the sense that you can't easily break it. Plus, it gives one an inner sense of "I am locked for real" which adds to the fun. But, they may present problems with metal detectors, and they will, umm, drag you down a bit at the end of the day. So, bigger on security and sexiness, while possibly lower on convenience.

Plastics are lighter and easier to pass through travel security. But they need to be removed more frequently for good cleanings. Also, they may be more prone to cracking and breaking depending upon the material used. So, higher on comfort, while maybe lower on convenience.

Fortunately, there are many more interesting designs now than twenty or even ten years ago when I first started rating devices on this scale. Hopefully you can use this to make your own evaluations about picking a cage.

[uptoolateart]

Education Systems

I'm updating this because a French fan has now added to the conversation, for accuracy.

I think a lot of people have misunderstood the French education system, after watching Confrontation. I did a bunch of research into this for one of my fics - I have lived in the UK since I was 16 and have children in the British education system - and I originally grew up in the US. With all that in mind...

When you finish the first major stage of education:

France - Age 15

UK - Age 16

US - Age 18

Picking your focus / specialism(s):

France - Age 15, you can pick a stream, focusing on subjects relevant to what you want to do in life.

UK - Age 16, you can pick a stream, focusing on subjects relevant to what you want to do in life - there are also vocational courses, if you’re not remotely academic, and I bet there is something like this in France.

US - You are required to take all general mandatory subjects, even if you suck at them, until age 18, at which point you can finally specialise.

Speaking personally, when I lived in the US I was only given one elective in high school, and for my junior year (age 16) I realised I would have no time to fit that elective into my schedule because of all the science and maths requirements...subjects I was all but failing, because I knew I was artistic / literary-minded from a very young age. I was forced to suffer falling self-esteem, feeling like I was stupid and not good enough, simply because I didn’t have the ‘right’ brain type to fit with what the school wanted. There were other schools in the area that had slightly different requirements, but they all did some form of the same thing.

If you don’t know what you want to focus on yet:

France - There are generalist academic options where you do the usual variety of subjects, with the proviso that you get to choose if it’s more heavily weighted towards maths / science or towards liberal arts (see my personal anecdote above).

UK - Does something similar to France.

US - I was seriously considering dropping out of high school as soon as legally able (age 16) because I couldn’t cope with the pressures of the school system and my shattered confidence, despite previously being a straight-A student. However, if you drop out, you bear that stigma for life, no matter how much else you do - even though there are countries like France and the UK that legally release you from that education system at the same age or even younger. I’ve seen this happen to a lot of extremely intelligent American friends.

At university:

UK - You ONLY do classes directly related to your degree.

France - I'm told it's the same but that you don't get to choose unrelated electives for fun (you can do that in the UK - not lots, but a few over the years).

US - You are forced to take a lot of mandated subjects that have nothing to do with your course, e.g. local government or trigonometry even though you’re doing a writing degree, and you pay an absolute fortune for these / the required textbooks. (The most I ever spent on a book for my UK English degree course was £15, whereas textbooks in the US cost in the hundreds.)

What if you change your mind?

UK - Most jobs don’t care what degree you did, just that you did a degree. If you decide to do something that does need special qualifications, you can always go back and undertake them, at any age...with the proviso that you need to find the time and money.

France - I have been told it can be difficult, although in ways similar to the UK (and probably the US), where it depends on the job. Some jobs will always require retraining. It's always easier to do that training when you're younger and have fewer obligations

US - I can’t specifically comment, as I emigrated, but see above. Also, I have American friends who have gone through a LOT of hoops to try to change career paths in later life. This is probably an area where all countries could improve.

In conclusion:

The French (and UK) system is not necessarily forcing teenagers to lock into a fixed career path with no looking back, at the age of 15. Nothing is perfect, but in many ways, I think the French system actually offers options for greater flexibility by allowing greater choice at a younger age, instead of being forced to take all these other classes they may never use again in life, possibly at the detriment of their mental health.

Don’t get me wrong - there are a lot of things I prefer about the US vs the UK system in the lead up to high school (I can’t comment on the French system during those years, as I have no experience). But I’m a big believer that we need to allow kids greater choice at a younger age, with the option to stay in generalist education if that’s really what they want.

[modelbus]

Tommyinnit x masc nb reader where they don't try to hide their relationship from the internet, but at the same time refuse to confirm nor deny it.

Like...they have pictures online of them on dates, wearing each others clothes, in each other's background during stream, etc, etc. The evidence is right there??? But they don't confirm it. Matter of fact, they don't even "know who that ugly mug in the picture is".

Wilbur is the first one to leak their relationship tho, woops.

”whoops” killed me. Also, look at my funny little guy in the photo! It felt fitting.

Pairing: CC!Tommyinnit x Nb!Reader (romantic)

Evading Evidence

Tommy’s streaming when you get tired of scrolling through Twitter. Normally you’re able to sit on his bed, just out of sight of his camera, and catch up on all the drama. It’s been a quiet few days though, so you’re already bored.

“I’m going to run to the store real quick.” You say, getting up.

Tommy turns, neither of you acknowledging the stream. Chat’s going crazy about the fact you were there the entire thirty minutes Tommy’s been live for, and possibly longer.

Despite the fact you and Tommy were dating, neither of you had let the internet know yet. Sure, there were pictures and Tweets and remarks basically confirming it, but both of you were careful never to say it outright. At this point it was almost a game.

“Oh, can you get me twin gummy snakes?” Tommy asks, practically begging you with his eyes.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I need fuel and you love me?”

You consider it for a second before giving in. “Fine. I’ll be back in, like, ten minutes.”

“Thanks! Don’t get run over!”

“Why would I- never mind.”

Tommy doesn’t turn back towards the stream until after he hears you leave, shutting the door behind you. It’s only then that he takes notice of the chat freaking out over his words.

“Chat, what the fuck are you talking about? They don’t love me. Actually, I don’t have a clue who the fuck that was!” He exclaims. “Back to Minecraft.”

-

“Hey, is this okay to post?” Jack Manifold asks, practically shoving his phone into your face.

You take it, examining the Twitter draft. It’s a selfie he took before the filming of the latest Tom Simons vlog. Behind him you can barely see you and Tommy curled up on the couch together, looking at something. The photo is captioned “Tom Simons vlog done.”

“Sure. Tommy?” You ask, handing the phone over to him.

He barely takes a look at it. “Yeah.”

“Thanks!” Jack says cheerfully, immediately posting.

“Time to fight the stans like our lives depend on it.” You joke, already opening Twitter and navigating to Jack’s profile.

“It’s fucking funny.” Tommy laughs.

“Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. What’re you tweeting?”

“I’ll reply to yours.” He leans over to watch you type out your reply, reading it aloud. “'Not Jack photoshopping the background'.”

“Are you two ever going to tell the internet?” Jack asks, laughing a little.

“Oh, the internet definitely knows. They just chose to believe us when we lie to their faces.” You answer.

“I’m replying ‘incredibly disrespectful.’” Tommy announces. You get the notification of his reply right after he says it.

“Don’t get me canceled.” Jack sighs.

“No promises.”

-

"Why are you talking about Tommy so much?" A donation asks.

You were doing a just chatting stream, spilling some fun stories. A few of them had been dates with Tommy, but you didn't call them dates. Chat still had their suspicions though.

"Because I hate him." You deadpan, staring into your camera. "Worst person ever, kill all Tommyinnits."

It barely takes a second for the chat to react to your words, thousands of people calling you a liar. As your eyes flick through messages, one catches your eye.

"Why are you wearing his hoodie then, hm?" Gets read aloud. "Well, you see, it simply isn't his. This very clearly branded Tommyinnit hoodie? Mine."

It's merch of his that hadn't shipped yet, his name displayed across your chest. The only possible way for you to have some would be him giving you some or you stealing his. One guess as to what you did.

Yeah, you took his.

"I have the fastest shipping in the world guys, you have to believe me."

Nobody believes you. It's not even the first time you've worn his clothes, just the first you've worn them on stream. Maybe you should've been a little more careful, but oh well. Who really cares anyways? The game was fun, but not too serious.

"Besides, as if I'd ever wear something Tom fucking Simons tainted with his gremlin hands." It's a fun little jab, one you know he'll hear about later. Probably from Twitter.

"Hey!" Tommy yells from somewhere in the flat.

Or maybe he'll hear about it right that second. He must be watching your stream, making you smile.

"Sorry." You say it in a way that clearly shows you don't mean the apology, laughing to yourself a little. After running a hand through your hair, you speak again. "Did I tell you guys about how I almost killed a person by riding a bike the other day?"

-

Of course, all jokes eventually end. This one just happens to meet its death in Wilbur's hands, live on stream.

“We’re out, we’ll see you tomorrow for the vlog.” Tommy says, pulling you to your feet.

It’s been over an hour of being on Wilbur’s stream, stuck in his little cramped office. One person was fine, two could fit, but three was just too much. Besides, you knew Tommy’s limit was an hour.

“Have a good stream!” You tell Wilbur cheerfully, shutting the door before he gets the chance to say goodbye. To make up for it, he waves.

“And there go the lovers.” Wilbur jokes to his stream, putting himself back into the middle of the frame now you and Tommy are gone. “Off to do whatever they do.”

It barely takes a minute for chat to explode, making Wilbur realize exactly what he just did. His face drains of color as he sits up.

“Shit- fuck. It was a joke, guys. A joke.”

Like a dog with a bone, chat’s already taken his words and ran with them. Wilbur’s fuck up is beyond repair. Instead of digging himself a deeper grave, he just messages you and Tommy.

You’re both back in his office in a matter of seconds, having sprinted back down the corridor. It wasn’t that you were upset, more just panicked. This definitely wasn’t how you meant to confirm it.

“Well… shit.” Tommy finally speaks, just off camera. “You’ve leaked it Wil.”

“I didn’t fucking mean to!”

“We should leak something about you in return.” You joke.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to!” Wilbur quickly defends himself.

Tommy pokes his head into the camera frame to address chat, grinning to show he isn’t pissed at Wilbur at all. You laugh, waiting to see what he’ll say.

“Oi, chat, you’re all fucking dumb. Took you lot long enough.”

Wilbur sags with visible relief, glad neither of you are going to kill him for his slip-up. Now that it’s established he didn’t ruin everything, it’s a lot funnier.

“We’re going to miss the movie showing.” You announce, checking your phone for the time.

“Fuck. Bye again.” Tommy laughs as you drag him out the door.

When the door shuts, Wilbur laughs and shakes his head. “Whoops?”

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

Wait! The ask box is open? Oooh I have a request~ You don’t have to do it if it makes you uncomfortable or if you think it’s cringe! But, um, do you have any Yandere h/cs for TFA (or any version really) Swindle? I’m morbidly curious on how he’d behave

-The main thing about Swindle is that he is manipulative. He knows he's not the strongest, not the fastest, not the smartest. But he does know how to talk. How to twist the truth into fitting his narrative and make people think they got what they want.

-Swindle also knows what people want. Everyone has a currency, something that matters to them, that they want. For some people it's power. Others want attention. Adoration. So if he wants someone the first thing he's got to figure out what their currency is.

-Once he knows this, then he can put his plans in action.

-He'll butter them up by appealing to their desires, telling them what they want to hear. Confirming their biases. Anything to make them feel comfortable, in control and confident. People are easier to manipulate when they feel comfortable because then they will never suspect something is wrong.

-By providing them with what they want, Swindle will essentially make them dependent on him. This means they will always come back for more, return to him on their own volition. But there will always be someone else out there that can provide the same thing he does, some knock off that thinks they are a big fish. To ensure that he's the only one that they go to, he'll have to eliminate the competition.

-Sometimes it's simple. A few rumors here and there, credits given to the right person that can make a story more believable. Ruining someone's reputation is easy for someone like Swindle.

-If that doesn't work, well, there's always the hard way. Not hard for Swindle, no, he won't really have to do a thing. He'll simply hire someone else to do it. Maybe offer Lockdown a new mod in return for offing one of his rivals. Again, he knows what people want.

-Once he's made his target fully dependent on him, Swindle can start the second phase of his plan. And that is to isolate them. Hog more of their attention, more of their time, until they start to see other people less and less.

-Make them insecure, afraid of the outside, of everyone except for Swindle. Tell them about the ugly side of the world, all the dangers he's seen, the evil that exists out there.

-After this has been achieved, it's easy to stash his target away. They will willingly go with him, listen to what he has to say without doubting him for even a single second because they trust that he knows best. He's always told them what they wanted to hear, after all.

-Everyone has their own currency and Swindle is no different. He's infamous for his love for money. Can't get enough of it, always has to have more. But recently there's been something else that's managed to compete with this longtime obsession of his. A person. And everyone knows that once Swindle wants something, he will stop at nothing to get it.

[randomscpventblog]

You know while most rewrite creators say they want to get rid of AdminBrights influence in the fandom the truth is most of them would get nowhere with their rewrites without depending on characterBright as their backbone. Seriously most of them used the Bright tags when their rewrites were new and some still use the Bright tags even now despite people asking them not too, because they know without them their rewrites would never get any attention. Regardless of what they try to argue their rewrites are really no different from OC’s they all just use the same base and OC’s rarely get any attention on their own. So without the bright tags, 963 tags, and the rewrite tags none of them would ever be seen.

Also while some of these people will argue that Bright was just a “self-insert oc” too that’s just simply not true Bright was an actual established character with thousands of works made for him by millions of different people, and I think reducing character Bright to nothing but a “self-insert-oc” is incredibly disrespectful to all the people who put years of work into his character, these people shouldn’t be forced to change either.

There’s also the issue of all these rewrite’s shallowness because most of them lack any real depth as characters. While making characterBright shallow on Tumblr may have been fine because it was multiple people making works for one character, so a shallow work could just be accepted as another part of a deeper character written by others, that just doesn’t work for rewrites because they’re multiple people each making they’re own works for their own character with the same base. Meaning their each solely responsible for all the development, personality, and backstory that goes into their characters. Sadly most of them seem to miss the mark, they all follow the base character of Bright that was mainly used on Tumblr which in itself was an oversimplified idealistic version of the character. These rewrites lack flaws and complexity, some don’t even have backstories so I guess we’re to assume that their simply the same as Bright but with different names.

On that point what exactly makes a rewrite seems to be very confusing, there’s a list some of these creators follow to be respectful towards AB’s victims but aside from that it seems to be a free for all. Most have the same personality and backstory but simply change up the look of the character getting rid of the iconic ginger. Also yes most of these rewrites also have the possession and body hopping abilities so they also have multiple possible different looks but like Bright they also all seem to have a base body/look. Each varies in how different they are from Bright, but even the ones who stray the furthest from their base still seem to lack the depth an established character needs.

These creators are reluctant to give their characters any real flaws, while characterBright could be considered a good example of an anti-hero most of these rewrite creators want to make their characters strictly good which kind of ruins the place their supposed to hold among the other scp doctors that are not rewritten making them feel incredibly out of place. Although any character that’s not Bright is simply never going to fit in right placed among the other scp doctors unless their all rewritten as well.

None of this is to bash any rewrites but to point out why these characters feel lacking compared to Bright. When I see rewrites by even the most popular creators it still really does feel like a bunch of people playing with their own underdeveloped OC’s. Plus there’s the fact that there’s just too many of them compared to those who actually make works for these rewrites that aren’t their original creators.

Again I’m happy that these creators found something that worked for them but their solution doesn’t work for everyone and it shouldn’t be required of anyone either.

[reallyprofoundkryptonite]

What do you think of "yandere" Krogan?

It depends entirely on the AU, and I feel like he could definitely fit into the “obsessive” and “Insane” categories if given the correct circumstances. But it entirely depends on the specific circumstances and context of what made him like that because mainline, I feel like yandere doesn’t fit him because of the trauma I give him. He is innately clingy in my opinion, but most likely not… stalker like. Krogan himself seems to be extremely introverted and therefore extremely avoidant of people, in my opinion. So it would possibly take… a lot for him to get to this point.

He is innately capable of violent acts, though, so hypothetically we could absolutely transfer that aspect over that Krogan is absolutely just extremely paranoid about people from a survivalist aspect. But if you add feelings into the mix of Krogan liking/caring very deeply for someone and throwing those same paranoid feeling of distress of ther people being dangerous, it could possibly work, considering Krogan’s paranoia could and would absolutely leak into violence towards others in the name of protecting him and his prospective significant other.

Therefore it is an innately complex topic. I have never quite been a fan of blatant yandere, especially for Krogan, simply due to the fact that I personally don’t see him having some of the traits that are typical for a yandere, especially since it would negate the trauma I give him in some cases, HOWEVER, if done correctly I could figure it out, probably, like in the manner I listed above.

[lifenconcepts]

mrrrow? (how are you?) also. *runs around due to zoomies*

I was wondering, how did you figure out your identities? also what are they? of course it’s okay if you don’t keep track or just don’t want to answer lolz.

I love this question but sadly enough I can’t define my entire identity in mere words! Overall, I just have a basic grasp on understanding on who/what I am after spending a lot of time reflecting on my own life experiences, the way I perceive and feel things, what I like doing, and the sorts!

I only came to use the term therian a couple years back, approx 2022, and alterhuman only this year, and yet have been feeling in-human for way longer now!

as a child I showed many signs of both being a creature, wanting to be like them, acting like them, studying them, wanting to be referred to as such, and seeing myself as one. Specifically what I’m talking about is a wolf. I had plenty of traits that existed in both me and the animal and I tended to gravitate to media of them, also using some variation of “wolf” in my online usernames, and felt an insane rush of emotion when people outright called me a wolf or that I resembled one (both irl and online), and it felt more true to what I am.

lately though I have gotten more used to my human body and I’ve honestly never been one to experience species dysphoria but even now I do fanaticise about having certain animal features and traits (and I still do present a wolf in a few ways and forms, also experience shifts not all that commonly but still).

it just kinda sat with me for a while until not that long ago, maybe 2022 again, where I began to experience strong urges related to birds or wings, and after a few shifts, it quickly became more manageable and now mainly exists as a silly little desire and not as much of an identity and yet I can say it was rather likely because I was feeling mentally stuck and in a true bad shape at the time and maybe a desire for freedom and escape manifested such an identity in me but I don’t exactly feel the same now, still, I do enjoy thinking of flying or wanting to have wings along with also adoring studying birds and looking at them.

Those two are my main ones and other than that I have a few “flowy” ones which sort of fluctuate in my brain depending on either how I feel or what I’m doing, often times, I feel like an angelic being (completely unrelated to angels in most media) and my perception of the world changes accordingly, other times, I feel a bit unsettled and may revert to feeling like a pathetic dog but in a silly way, and physically feel like I have the body of such, but other than that, I can usually tell if a feeling or emotion I’m experiencing is simply a human thing (for example being guilty for failing a promise, excited to do something I love, or curious about a new topic) and if something may be related to my alterhuman self (having traits that don’t match humans (also part of my neurodivergence), desires urges or cravings for things I usually don’t have an interest in, and changes in my perception of the world).

I still am sort of figuring out myself as I go, for we all know, there isn’t a single day in life where we stop growing, changing, and learning - only taking breaks here and there to relax. So even though I have mostly figured myself out for the whole part there are still things I wish to know better about myself and I’ll also likely keep somewhat changing with what I feel fits or doesn’t fit me, and yet other than that, it’s a matter of understanding!

personally I’m spiritual (not religious) and so have an internal hunch that helps me understand and better learn things, being able to grasp a concept and comprehend wether it’s something I should make a fuss about or let go, and it has helped me decide on things that I presume others can’t really do..

for example, I can tell inherently just by focusing on a thought if it’s a mere mortal happening or has some underlying reason- and from then on figure out if it’s due to a natural behaviour like how our brains work OR may be some inhuman aspect, and then figure out how to deal with it usually by invoking some information from previous experiences. Like, if on a walk, suddenly feel a thrill at seeing the trees, and after realising that I’m being overly enthusiastic of such a thing, take a few seconds to think, and recognise if it’s because I just haven’t been outside in a few days and just love the beauty of it all or have a deep connection with nature and feel at home with it all (both of which happened to me at different times).

there isn’t a set guide to how and why some things are so it’s usually always best at figuring out yourself by yourself, but trying to figure out how others did it can also be a great help!

in short, I just focused on the moment and what makes sense for it. Because even for a set identity, certain habits or beliefs or opinions or thoughts can have different meaning and effects depending on the situation, and it’s best to give examples but I hope you understand anyways.

The cause of a specific response can often chance or even differentiate so it’s never as easy as keeping a booklet of “if I breathe, I will be happy. If I see a cat, I’ll pet it” because things can often vary and maybe go differently. One moment you’re randomly happy then the next you’re suddenly sad with no reason. One day you really like the sun and the next you feel like it’s threatening you. One event you really like to look at around at the way people dress and another you are indifferent and are thinking of other things. Nothing will ever be stationary and neither will an identity. Anything can, will, and likely has changed but to figure out what and who you truly are, it’s best to just see what you feel most comfortable as or what you’ve been experiencing the longest and still feel relates to you. Find comfort in the unknown and don’t be in a rush to find answers, take your time, and even if it takes a long long time, it doesn’t matter because nobody is in a rush! Just stay calm, try to be fine with not yet knowing things, and slowly make baby steps into seeing the bigger picture!

Truly, feel free to come to me if you need help with your own journey or ask me any questions about myself! I’ll be happy to talk and help :))

[thelewdpokemanik]

Miu iruma, junko enoshima, or Kaede Akamatsu .

Which one is the most fitting of the "ultimate bimbo" according to makoto ?

Thank you @cowedeacumootsu for both the ask and the images! Love Love <3

"Ah well, I think it depends on what you're looking for in a bimbo, right? For example, Junko's got the style down pat."

"The make-up, the clothes, the hair, she's not the Ultimate Fashionista for nothing. I know she's always wearing that thick lipstick just to leave rings around my cock. But that's also a big flaw of hers for some people I would think. Very much a free thinker, forward planner, and go-getter kinda girl. Can't say I don't see the good in that myself, but some people think a good bimbo should be an obedient one, and I can understand that too.

Can't count the number of times my plans were waylaid because Junko ambushed me in a hallway, or was waiting for me in my dorm room.

If you prefer your bimbos more docile, then you'd probably prefer Miu."

"That girl won't be trying anything, and if she does, she'll fold if you so much as raise your voice at her. Manhandle her for a bit, and she'll melt. Give her a good spanking, and you'll have a love-struck slave on your hands for the next few hours.

I learned how to handle her the hard way if you will. Miu was a tease and a bitch when I first met her, or she was acting like one at least. She kept pushing me and pushing me, until I finally gave her what she was asking for.

A few hours later, Miu had learned that teasing me meant me being horny and that I wouldn't hesitate to put the slut in her place to satisfy myself.

That doesn't mean she doesn't still try, but we both know she's simply trying to rile me up to fuck her. And if I don't feel like it, or am busy with another slut, simply telling her to 'go masturbate in a corner' will have the blonde scampering to obey me.

But another issue that both those girls have is that I think they fail to be bimbos on a more base level. Oh, they might look and act like bimbos, but they don't think like one.

Both Junko and Miu are Ultimates. They may act like bimbos, or dress like one, but they will always be their Ultimate before anything else.

That’s probably why I would personally say Kaede’s the best bimbo.

When Kaede first entered this school, she was scouted as the Ultimate Pianist. She was known pretty widely as the Piano Freak, a girl who would regularly play until she passed out, either from lack of sleep, or hydration.

But the moment I saw her, I saw something special

With her determined attitude, her single-minded passion, and the way her tits strained against her sweater, I saw a girl who wasn’t operating at her full potential. And as her Senpai, I decided I had to help her out. Give her proper guidance, if you will.

A few hours later, Kaede was drowning in my cum, and her brain was like wet clay, ready to learn at my feet.

Later that same day, Kaede was walking into the headmaster’s office, begging him to let her change her talent to train and become the Ultimate Bimbo.

It’s been a few months now, and I’m pretty sure Kaede couldn’t care less about piano, unless you were talking about fucking her atop one. The only thing she cares about nowadays is cock and cum and sex. She’s been making good use of Hope’s Peak’s facilities to train both her body and mind to become a proper sex toy every day since we first met.

And, well, the results speak for themselves, don’t they?"

"Like I said, the girl’s driven. She knows what she wants, and she wants to do it until she physically cannot anymore.

Problem is, not just anyone can handle the new Ultimate Bimbo. Once, she invited her whole class, boys and girls, to an orgy, where she fucked all of them into the ground. Thankfully, the Ultimate Nurse was on site, or Hope’s Peak might’ve been in trouble with all the broken pelvises and dehydrated students.

Even luckier, I was close by to fuck the cow into unconsciousness before she could attack the nurse.

Though the experience did nothing to slow down Kaede’s training. If nothing else, the school was even more invested in seeing just how far she could push herself, and, well, now they also had a boy to keep her in check.

Can’t say if I really deserved the title of Ultimate Stud after that incident, but most everyone agreed, so I didn’t try and resist when they gave it to me. I think it’s mostly honorific until I actually begin making use of the training Hope’s Peak has offered me, though I don’t see much of a reason to do so.

I also didn’t protest when they moved Kaede to my room, for me to fuck into a babbling mess every night, lest she sneak into some unsuspecting victims’ room for the night.

And I can’t deny that Kaede deserves to be called the Ultimate Bimbo either. Usually, I have to go through two, maybe three, sometimes four girls before calming down enough to put my pants back on, but Kaede isn’t afraid to match me thrust for thrust.

By the time I fuck her to exhaustion, I’m feeling pretty winded myself. Not ‘tired’, of course, but still. Enough that some of the other girls are starting to feel backed up themselves now that I no longer need to go through half the student body every week.

All of them, Kaede included, whenever she’s coherent enough to speak actual words, have been asking me to go through the Ultimate Stud training Hope’s Peak is looking into. I haven’t been too interested, to be honest; I’m fine as I am, and while sex is fun, and great exercise, my libido is more of an issue than anything else.

But, I can’t deny that I might have to. After destroying all the girls of Hope’s Peak, it wouldn’t do to not take responsibility, and train until I could actually satisfy them all, even as Kaede’s own training allows her to keep going for longer and longer.

Yeah, the more I think about it, the more I think it’s a good idea; I need to make sure I can both satisfy the Ultimate Bimbo and all the other Ultimate sluts that are begging for my cock.

And, well, Ultimate Stud is probably better than Ultimate Lucky Student, right? Can’t deny that the benefits are a lot better, at least."

[agentlemansavage]

3am ramblings

I suppose I've always seen myself as an outsider, never truly fitting in, always on the fringes. For years now, it's felt like I've had no one I could genuinely trust or depend on, and because of that, I've gone out of my way to ensure that the people in my life never feel the same loneliness that haunts me. My love life has always been nothing short of pathetic. I'm turning 32, and I’ve never even made it a year into a relationship before the person I’m with runs off to meet their supposed "love of their life." I kid you not, it feels like for the last decade, whoever comes after me ends up being the one they marry. It's a cruel pattern, one that forces you to reevaluate and wonder, "What the hell is wrong with me? Am I truly that messed up?" I don’t know anymore.

I’ve told myself before—never again. And then she came along, broke through every wall, made me believe, even if just for a moment, that maybe I had a chance at this fairy tale ending. But now, here I am, right back where I started, trying to cling to some shred of positivity because I genuinely believe, deep down, that she’ll come back. Yet, I'd be foolish not to consider the possibility that I could be wrong. Doubt lingers because, if I’m being honest, I’ve been wrong about nearly everything so far.

The truth is, I’ve never been good at letting go. Whether it’s the sting of death or the end of a relationship, I hold on with everything I have. I’m a fighter—always have been. I’ll fight until there’s nothing left to fight for, and even then, I’ll rage against the world, refusing to surrender. It’s not in my nature to simply walk away, to let things slip through my fingers. I cling to the remnants, the memories, the “what ifs,” desperately trying to hold on to whatever I can. It’s a trait that’s both a curse and a blessing, this inability to let go, to accept defeat.

I’ve fought for love, for connection, for every bit of happiness I’ve ever known. And even now, in the face of all this uncertainty, I find myself unable to give up on the idea of us. I’m holding onto the belief that there’s still something left to salvage, still a chance for a different ending. Perhaps it’s naive, perhaps it’s madness, but I’d rather fight and be proven wrong than live with the regret of not having fought at all. That’s who I am—a man who fights for what he loves, even if it leaves me shattered in the end.