#being repulsed by my childhood

[rexalogy]

rawring 20s

[kjzx]

I've been thinking a lot about my sexuality these last few years, I'd even say sometimes obsessing to an unhealthy degree, and I think I've come in terms with the fact I almost certainly am bisexual and denying that is pretty lesbophobic and frankly dumb in many ways, and mainly cruel towards myself. Gonna be reading up on internalized biphobia and whatnot

[girlwithfish]

having horrible self image i just have to deal w it cuz like hwen am i ever happy with how i look or my body i just want to stop being at war w myself or at least w my looks cuz it just is such a downer always being unhappy with my physical self like im already unhappy w who i am as a person cn i at least be satisfied w how i look😔☹️idk i never grew out of the self hatred phase it just sucks. very ed sh tw in tags i guess

[incognit0slut]

BATTLE SCARS

Part 2 of kinktober | main masterlist

What started out as innocently counting body scars with your coworker, who you were stuck in the same bed with, ended far from being innocent.

sub!spencer x fem!reader; Face sitting, male and female oral, body worship, cockwarming

words: 6,300 (I couldn’t help it the buildup was fun to write)

a/n: I hope this shows up on your page because apparently this app hates me

"THERE’S ONLY ONE ROOM LEFT."

Of course, there is, you thought, eyes glancing over to your partner of the day. Spencer was the one you were partnered with when Hotch had sent you to check on the victim's childhood home. He's good at deducing clues, was what your unit chief had said, and although those words were well-intentioned, you couldn't help but feel slightly dejected.

One month of working in the BAU meant that everyone would scrutinize you, even when you knew you were more than capable of doing the job. It wasn't like you were randomly picked for this position. You went through the same process as everyone else did. You were as smart as everyone was but it seemed that your boss still thought you needed a babysitter to do this simple task.

One month of working as the latest addition to the team also meant you didn't know your colleagues that well, which was why you wondered what was going through Spencer's mind in this current predicament. What did he think of the sudden thunderstorm hitting this remote town just as you were about to leave? What did he feel about having to seek shelter because driving in this terrible condition wasn't a choice anymore?

And what ran through his mind when the guy behind the counter, who looked like he didn't even want to be here in the first place, said there was only one room left?

"Are you sure?" Your coworker pressed on, eyes darting across the computer screen sitting on the desk. "Did you check every room? All of them?"

The man in front of him quirked an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm not doing my job right?"

"No, he's not," you cut in. You glanced at Spencer, noticing he was constantly fidgeting on his feet. You might not know him well enough, but you were a profiler, and with the way he kept shifting his weight from one leg to another, you could tell he was uncomfortable with the situation. You wondered what had him so worked up like this. Was it the idea of having to spend the night with a woman? 

Well, he did seem like the type of guy who didn't have his fair share of nights with the opposite sex, but then again, you weren't going to start guessing his personal life. Although you did once see him act all bashful in front of a witness who, you had to admit, was the epitome of sweet and innocent. Her traits were probably on the top list of his preferred type, exactly the opposite of yours.

Huh.

So was it just the idea of spending the night with you that ticked him off?

"It's fine," you said, looking back at—you narrowed your eyes at the name tag clipped on his shirt—Kevin. His name was Kevin. "We'll take it."

Spencer's eyes fell on you. "But—"

"But it's pouring outside and neither of us should be driving in this horrible weather," you added. "End of discussion."

He looked like he was about to retort a reply when a sudden string of light cackled through the night sky, followed by another heavy downpour. He winced as his shoulders slumped, another posture of discomfort but one with a hint of defeat. You saw him reluctantly nod from the corner of your eyes.

"Alright," he finally said. "We'll take it."

Kevin slid a key across the wooden desk. "Room 306."

You thanked him and grabbed onto the key before turning on your heels. The walk to the room was extremely quiet except for the constant sound of the rain pouring outside. Spencer shuffled his feet beside you, and even though you wanted to fill in the silence, the thought of him not wanting to room with you annoyed you more than you wanted to admit.

Were you really that bad? Was the idea of sharing a room with you repulsive for him to act this way?

When you finally reached your shared room, an immediate sense of awkwardness washed over you like an unexpected wave. The room, though not large, was well-furnished and neat. But what caught your attention was the sight that greeted you in the dimly lit space. In the center of the room was a bed—not large enough to be luxurious, yet not small enough to be cozy.

Your eyes met briefly with his and a moment of unease passed between you two. Finally, he broke the silence with a hesitant voice. "I can sleep in the car."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his suggestion. "It's pouring outside."

"Right." He sighed, realizing the impracticality of his proposal. "Well, then I'll, uh, sleep on the floor."

"Reid." Your narrowed eyes fixed on him, your patience wearing thin. "The bed is big enough for the both of us. I don't mind sharing."

He paused, clearly taken aback by your straightforward response. "A-Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't," you replied, showing your back to him. "I'm going to use the bathroom first."

"U-uh, yes. Sure. Of course," he stammered, his voice trailing off as he watched you leave the room.

You retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. As you washed your hands and splashed some cool water on your face, you couldn't help but wonder what had led to his initial hesitance. The storm outside was fierce, and the idea of venturing into it to sleep in the car or on the floor seemed impractical, to say the least. You knew that sharing the bed was the most sensible option, but there was an unspoken tension in the room, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why he had been so reluctant.

Turning off the tap, you took a deep breath. Whatever. He could act all uncomfortable as much as he wanted and you could pretend he wasn't even there. So you decided to shed your jeans, leaving yourself in the oversized button-up shirt that served as your makeshift nightwear.

The shirt fell gracefully to the middle of your thighs, offering a sense of ease you couldn't find in your uncomfortable jeans. With them neatly folded and placed on the bathroom counter, you looked back into the mirror one last time, straightening your wrinkled shirt, and ran a hand through your hair before stepping back into the room.

You found him seated on the edge of the bed, his posture awkward and uncertain. You watched as he shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting toward the single window in the shared space, his eyes narrowing each time a particularly strong gust of wind rattled the pane.

You decided to break the silence. "You know, it's just a little rain. We'll be out of here as soon as the weather clears up tomorrow."

His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a mixture of frustration and something else, something deeper, in his eyes. "It's not about the rain," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation.

So it really was about you.

His gaze then traveled over your exposed skin, and you could see his eyes growing wide, clearly taken aback by your choice of attire. "W- What are you wearing?"

Unable to suppress a chuckle at his sudden shift in demeanor, you decided to play along. "Do you mean what I'm not wearing?"

He blinked, his response caught in his throat, leaving him momentarily speechless. His gaping mouth and wide-eyed expression only fueled your amusement. You shrugged in response, trying to play off his intense gaze, but you felt his eyes linger on your thigh, fixated on the long scar mapping along your skin.

"Reid," you called out, and he looked up at you, his expression wry as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been.

"Y-yes?" he stammered, clearly flustered by being caught in the act.

You pointed toward the bathroom. "You can use it now," you suggested.

His face lit up with realization. "Oh! Right," he exclaimed, his flustered state evident as he stumbled on his way to the bathroom.

The awkwardness seemed to follow him as he disappeared into the other room. After turning off the main lights, you left only the soft glow of the bed lamp, which cast a warm ambiance in the room. The covers provided a sense of security and comfort as you finally settled beneath them.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a white shirt he seemed to wear under his button-down shirt. However, unlike you, he still had his pants on, although he did discard his belt.

Seeing him in this stripped-down, casual state was a bizarre sight. You had grown accustomed to his poised and professional demeanor, and the sight of him dressed in ordinary clothes seemed oddly intimate as if you were witnessing a side of him that few others had seen. It was as if you were seeing him naked even when he was still covered in most of his clothes.

He then settled onto the bed with a noticeable awkwardness, causing the mattress to sink down slightly under his weight. He lay far away from you, in a stiff and distant manner, clearly still grappling with the awkwardness of the situation.

"Reid, relax, I'm not going to bite you," you said reassuringly, trying to dispel some of the tension in the room. A small, playful smile danced on your lips. "Unless that's what you want me to do," you added, your voice taking on a teasing note.

A brief moment of silence followed, and it almost seemed as if he was contemplating your playful offer. You felt the tension shift into something else, but before it could further linger, you decided to break the silence with a forced laugh, shaking off the tension. You then rolled over to your side, closing your eyes shut, ignoring the sound of heavy rain hitting the window and the bolt of lightning occasionally flashing through the sky. You just wanted to rest. You just wanted peace. You wanted to sleep.

But sleep didn't want you.

About ten minutes later, you groaned softly and rolled over onto your back. "Reid," you said, breaking the silence.

He hummed in response.

"I can't sleep," you confessed, your voice carrying a hint of restlessness. Turning to face him, you propped yourself up on your elbow. "Tell me something about yourself," you suddenly requested, your curiosity cutting through the awkwardness.

He hesitated for a moment as if considering whether he should respond to you or not, but then he eventually asked, "Anything?" 

"Anything."

"Well, I—uh," he cut off, and with a faint hint of modesty, he began again. "I'm extremely smart."

From all the information he could share, he decided to share that. But it was still something, at least you could get your coworker to talk instead of fidgeting in discomfort. "Yeah? How smart?"

"Well, I have an IQ of 187 and three PhDs."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's impressive," you responded, but then you let out a scoff. "And extremely conceited. Someone asks you to share a fact about yourself and you decide to brag about your brain."

Your remark earned you a small, amused smile from him. "You told me to share anything."

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned in a little closer. "Alright, your turn."

He gulped at your sudden movement but kept his attention on your eyes. "My turn for what?"

You laid on your back again. "Ask me something," you suggested.

There was a moment of hesitation as if he had been contemplating whether to ask the question and then his voice filled the air. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" You asked, your brows furrowed slightly.

"Y-Your scar."

You couldn't resist a teasing tone as you turned your head toward him. "Spencer Reid," you taunted, a playful glint in your eye. "Were you checking me out?"

His response was quick and slightly flustered. "What? No!" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "It was a mere observation," he clarified, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

Your laughter filled the room, a light, and genuine sound that seemed to dissolve some of the remaining tension in the air. "Alright, alright," you conceded, still amused by the exchange. "Observation duly noted."

Without warning, you kicked off the covers, a spontaneous decision driven by a mix of curiosity and the playful atmosphere that had developed between you. Your actions were unanticipated, even to yourself, but perhaps it was his flustered self that had spurred you on.

As the covers fell to the side, you extended your leg, showing him the white scar dancing along the inner part of your thigh. His eyes widened in surprise, his gaze drawn to your exposed skin. For a moment, there was silence, as if the room held its breath, and then he met your eyes.

"Fell off a cliff from a hiking trip," you explained, your voice softening with the memory. "I was exploring a trail and had a bit of a mishap. It left me with this scar as a souvenir."

His eyes flickered over the scar. "Did it hurt?"

You shrugged. "It did, but I guess I got through it."

Then, to his surprise, you began to unbutton your shirt. His eyes widened in disbelief at your actions. "W-what are you doing?"

You merely grinned in response, your confidence unwavering. You pushed the material of your shirt off your shoulder, revealing another scar, smaller and darker than the one on your thigh. "This is the most painful one," you explained. "A bullet from a handgun."

He examined the scar intently. "What happened?"

"A chase with a suspect a few years ago," you recounted, recalling your life before you joined the BAU. "We cornered the suspect in an abandoned warehouse, it was a tense standoff. He was armed, and in the chaos of the moment, a shot was fired." You gave him a smile. "I was the unlucky one in the way."

Your eyes locked with one another in a moment of shared understanding, and then you asked, "What about you? Any battle scars?"

He paused for a moment, considering your question. He seemed hesitant at first as if debating whether to share, but then he slowly lifted his shirt, revealing a scar on his lower abdomen. "Flying bullet."

He turned slightly, revealing a slight scar on his lower back, the result of a sharp weapon grazing his skin. It was a subtle yet significant mark. "An Unsub armed with a knife." He then laid back on his back again and tapped his right leg. "There's another scar from a bullet on my knee."

You couldn't help but tease him lightly, your tone playful. "Well, aren't you a magnet for disaster?"

His expression softened at your teasing. You stared at each other silently, taking in each other's presence in the close proximity the bed offered. You weren't sure how, or when for the matter, but it seemed the distance you both created grew shorter in the span of time you were talking.

Your gaze drifted over his features, from his brown orbs to his pointed nose, then along his high cheekbones before settling on the small scar underneath his jawline. It was a subtle mark, but it caught your attention, and you couldn't resist reaching out to gently touch it.

"What about this?" you inquired, your finger tracing the scar. "How did you get it?"

His breath seemed to catch at your sudden touch, and he stammered slightly in response, "I-I cut myself with a razor this morning."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his explanation, and your finger continued to graze his skin, skimming along the faded scar in a circular motion. "And how bad did it hurt?" you asked.

"Not so much," he whispered, his breathing starting to become uneven and it was at that moment you realized how compromising of a position you were in. He was on his back, and somehow you managed to press yourself onto him with a leg resting on his, your hips flushed against his side.

Maybe the rain, the rhythmic pattern of the raindrops beating in synchronized with your heart pushed your actions. Or perhaps it was being in the same bed. Whatever it was, the undeniable proximity between you created a charged atmosphere in the room. Every breath felt heavy, and the air seemed to thicken with unspoken tension, drawing you even closer.

You wanted to kiss him. How could you not when he was looking at you with those eyes? It was hard to ignore this sudden pull of attraction, but Spencer seemed like the type of guy who rarely made the first move. Maybe you needed to initiate it first.

"You know..." you began, your eyes trailing across his tiny scar. "I was thinking of kissing it better?" Your words hung in the air, and you felt him stiffen beside you. "If it was painful, that is."

A charged silence enveloped the room after your suggestive offer. Your heart raced, taking a leap at the first step in crossing the line. He could either play along or push you away, it was a risk you were willing to take, and you prayed he was into it just as you were.

"A- Actually," he stuttered. "I think I'm starting to feel the pain now."

You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. "Oh, you poor thing." And before he could respond, you bent over and pressed your soft lips against his scar. You felt him momentarily freeze. "Better?"

You thought he was about to back away when he didn't answer, but then his words had you grinning from ear to ear.

"...I'm not sure," he replied, his voice cutting through the silence. "I think it still hurts?"

Your smile grazed his scar again, softly, barely even touching it, before you trailed down his jawline, stopping on the crook of his neck.

"I.." He breathed out, his voice sounding strangled as you felt his grip on your hip. "I-I don't think that's where the scar is."

"I know." You opened your mouth, your tongue slightly tasting his skin. "I'm making a scar of my own."

Your parted lips were hot against his skin, his eyes fluttering close as you softly sucked on the spot below his ear. You always loved receiving neck kisses, but giving them? There was a certain sense of power to be able to make someone shiver under you, and it was what he was doing right now, breath hitching every time you sucked on a different spot.

You cupped his face as you continued to trail your lips along his neck, pressing your body closer to his. You moved your hand lower, fingers grazing his jawline before it rested around his throat, and as you put slight pressure on your hold, you heard him inhale sharply. You paused, not sure you were hearing right, but then you tightened your grip around his neck and a soft, strangled moan escaped his lips.

You smiled.

Spencer Reid, you naughty, kinky boy.

"We can stop if you want," you murmured against his skin because truthfully, you knew you couldn't restrain yourself after this.

"N- no," he sighed. "Don't stop."

It was enough for you to throw your leg over him. You lifted yourself up and straddled his lower half, stifling a moan as you felt the hard pressure between your thighs, and pressed your lips against his. You couldn't stop yourself from kissing him with so much fervor. Your lips collided with his as you pushed your tongue inside his opened mouth—tasting him, exploring him, devouring him. Who would've thought you would enjoy kissing your coworker this much?

You pulled away and studied him. Spencer was a blessing to witness. His eyes were heavy and hooded, his hair was disheveled with some strands stuck to his forehead and his lips were swollen and parted as he breathed slowly through them. His pale complexion bore the marks of a flush and you couldn't stop yourself from pushing away a strand of hair from his face.

"You're so pretty." Those words came out of your mouth without much thought in which you received a breathless sigh in return.

"You're.... you're more pretty."

You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair. "You understand I'm not going to stop now, right?" He faintly nodded. "And do you know what that means?"

He shook his head.

"It means I'm going to fuck you," you taunted, a wicked smile curling on your lips. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to use that smart brain of yours.”

The whine flying out of his mouth was enough for you to lean in closer, your lips extremely close to his but not quite touching. "Can I be rough?" His strangled whimper had you wrapping your hand around his throat again. "Use your words, baby."

"Y-yes," he breathed out. "Please."

"Good."

You pulled your hand back and brought it down sharply on his cheek.  The sound startled you because it sounded harder than it felt, ringing out loud with only the faintest sting on your palm.

Spencer looked genuinely surprised. His head turned with the impact of the slap, jaw falling open.  He blinked himself back into focus and you were about to ask if you were being too much, but then he looked at you in a way he had never looked at you before. The dazed and desperation of his gaze moved right through you, flushing you with heat.

"Such a pretty boy for me," you said, gently rubbing his cheek. You watched him, a curious smile playing at the corners of your lips. In that moment, you felt a peculiar sense of power and intimacy that was unlike any other you had experienced. It was an odd but exhilarating sensation, feeling an almost illicit delight in the power you held over him.

You then slowly straightened yourself. Taking your time, you began to unbutton your shirt as his gaze burned into you. You popped each button open until it left the sight of your black, laced bra on display for his eyes to devour. Your bra showed a hint of skin over the top, bouncing a little as you pulled yourself out of your shirt.

You reached behind your back to unhook your bra before slipping it from your shoulders, allowing your breasts to bounce free. Spencer couldn't help but swipe his tongue across his lips at the sight. Your breasts were on display with hardened, aching nipples to taunt him. You brought them in your palms, playing and squeezing your flesh for a moment just to tease him.

"Do you want to taste me?"

He let out a desperate sigh. "Please."

You placed the palm of your hands on his chest before leaning in, dropping your breasts right in front of his face. It didn't take him long to know what you wanted, and he quickly wrapped your right nipple in his mouth, his tongue hot against your skin.

"Fuck, Spencer," you moaned. You shivered upon the contact. His mouth sucking on your nipple was making your head delirious. Warmth spiraled from your core to the rest of your body as he tasted you, and when you thought you couldn't feel more aroused than you already were, he let go of your swollen nipple just to give his attention to the other one, sucking even harder.

You couldn't handle it anymore. A moment later your fingers ran down his chest, brushing over his stomach to feel him tense beneath your touch until the second you grip the hem of his pants. "Take these off for me."

You had never seen someone move so fast before. The moment you climbed off the bed, he started peeling his clothes from his body piece by piece. He left no article on before throwing his clothes to the floor, eyes raking your body as you stood before him in nothing but your panties. Those were quick to go, however. You pushed them down your hips and flicked the thin fabric past your feet.

A strained groan filled his chest as he looked at you, marveling at your naked form with wonder. Thoughtlessly he wrapped a hand around the base of his hardened cock and your eyes instantly take in the sight. The way he was biting his bottom lip, fingers around his thick, hard length had your mouth watering, but you stopped yourself from giving in.

"Who said you could touch yourself?"

His body tensed. He quickly placed his hands on the bed as you climbed back on the bed, the mattress sinking in from your weight.

“I like to be warmed up a little first," you told him as you settled on top of him again, but this time, you scooted further, putting your knees on either side of his head. Spencer's eyes went wide as he looked up to see you wet and bare, hovering inches away from his face.

"I'm going to sit on your face, and if you can make me come on your tongue..." You started to lower yourself. "I'll give you your reward."

You felt his breath on your center, and the minute his tongue touched you, you let out a moan. He worked his tongue over your clit, swallowing every drop of arousal dripping down his mouth. You gripped the headboard and rocked yourself back and forth while he continued to lap on your pussy without any care for the mess you made. You were wet and sloppy as his tongue moved in and out of you, up and down your folds while also sucking on your swollen clit.

"Oh my god," you moaned, looking down at where you could see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he groaned on your flesh, wrapping his arm around your thighs while never stopping stroking your wetness with his tongue. He held you tight, keeping you in place, and there was nothing else you could do but buck your hips as you ran your hands through his hair and tugged on the strands, receiving a deep, rough yet excited groan from him.

You exhaled his name, not being able to find the words or the breath in you to speak as you felt the familiar coil in your stomach. He flicked his tongue over your clit a few times before gathering up your juices and circling back to the swollen bud, massaging your flesh with the flat of his tongue. You felt the bliss swelling inside your body. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.

"I'm getting close," you warned him, beginning to grind your pussy against his mouth. He groaned against your flesh, sending vibrations through your body in return, and with a few more laps around your clit, you finally reached your high.

You felt the warmth from between your legs surge through your whole body. Your pussy walls tightened as you kept rocking your hips against him, whimpering, moaning, crying out that you were coming. You shivered and trembled above him, tossing your head back, gripping his hair even tighter, and pressing your thighs together around his head.

It took a moment for you to come down from your orgasm, and as you did, his motions slowed down, licking you gently, his hands soothing down your thighs. You finally lift your hips off his face, hovering above him on shaky thighs.

"You did so well," you cooed. You slowly shifted down his body, and when he thought you were about to straddle him again, you surprised him by moving lower.

“Let me give you your reward." You sighed while wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock in a firm grip. "You deserve it."

He felt so hot in your hand, so thick, so big, and utterly beautiful. You slowly moved your hand along his length, stroking him gently as you watched his lips parting open from the pleasure. You continued to stroke him, motions slow and steady, and he eventually closed his eyes, head falling back against the bed. You swiped your thumb across the tip, his eyes shot open as he looked at you.

"Keep your eyes on me."

He carefully propped himself on his elbows to get a better view just as you gripped him tighter while leaning close. The droplet of wetness on the tip looked too nice to be ignored so you leaned in and licked it up, your eyes meeting his gaze, and his jaw slacked open in pure pleasure. A pause settled in the room before you finally took him fully in your mouth, giving him an exploratory suck.

You kept swallowing him down, your jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth, wrapping your hand around what was left. You hollowed your cheeks and greedily inhaled him. His smooth, warm length slid across your tongue and his cock hit the back of your throat.

Without warning his hips jerked up, and you gagged, rearing back off with a cough, eyes watering. "I'm s-sorry," he apologized.

"It's okay, baby, I'm giving you your reward," you whispered before holding his throbbing cock in your grip again. "Hold my hair up for me?"

He did exactly as he was told, gathering your hair in his hands. Your mouth enclosed around him again and you repeated the movement, trailing down his cock with your tongue, hands twisting back and forth, lips sliding back down until you had every inch of him in your mouth.

You glanced up at him, brow-raising mischievously as you moved your head in a rapid motion. He panted out a whine, his chest heaving as he inhaled a lung full of desperately needed air.

"Please..." he whimpered, bucking up ever so slightly. His cheeks burned at the sound of his own desperation. You gazed up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, so pretty and needy. He blinked down at you, your cheeks flushed and lips stretched wide, an utterly obscene sight as you kept swallowing the entire length of him.

And then you felt him starting to shake,  his body trembling while the grip on your hair tightened at every stroke of your tongue. You could tell he was on the brink of exploding, yet you didn't want him to finish inside your mouth, so you pulled away just as quickly as you began.

You could tell he was about to whine a protest, but he immediately stopped himself as you climbed on his lap, gripping his cock in your hand and guiding it towards your aching pussy. But then you stopped, eyes meeting with his, your voice softening. "Should I use a condom?"

"You can..." he mumbled as if it was hard to even articulate any words when his tip was already brushing against your wetness. "You can do whatever you want."

You lingered for a moment, grinding yourself against the tip of him, getting wetter as your arousal dripped out. "I want to feel you."

The whimper he let out was loud, almost pornographic. "I want to feel you too."

Then you began to slide his cock into you, slowly, taking your time to draw the moment out. Your body went tense in an instant, you could hardly handle the way his size was pushing into you.

"Fuck, you're stretching me," you moaned the words, tossing your head back while closing your eyes. The content sigh leaving your lips was loud when his tip finally hit that soft spot. You had never felt this full before and you wanted to soak in the way he was filling you so deep, so you buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent as you sit there with his cock stuffed inside of you.

For you, it felt nice, but for him, it was torture. As warm as you were, as tight as you clenched him, he still needed more. With urgency, he reached for your body before his eager hands landed on your hips, a groan of desperation built in his throat as you stayed there, not moving a muscle. "Can... can you move?"

You kissed a spot below his ear. "Why should I?"

"I-I..."

"Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want." Your tone was soft, but you didn't drop the entirety of your dominance. "Do you want me to ride you? Is that it? You want me to fuck you senseless?"

"Yes," he rasped out as if he had been holding his breath. "Please..." 

You gripped him by the throat. "Say it."

"Pl-please fuck me," he gasped, gulping for air.

You smiled.

"Good boy," you replied. You began moving against his cock, grinding yourself over his lap, feeling him fill you up and hit deep inside you. It was almost too much but you remained focused. Your palms pressed to his shoulders as you pushed yourself up, moving your hips against his body.

He could feel you squeezing him. Every roll of your hips, every flutter of your walls, and every moan that rumbled from your chest. His huge palms wandered over the small planes of your back, caressing every dip and roll of your body. His eyes glazed over to where you were connected, the sight of your pussy clenching around every inch of him lulled him into a bewitching trance.

Soon you found a somewhat steady rhythm, circling your hips and grinding down on him faster, picking up your pace. You felt your heart drumming against your ribcage and the concoction of arousal running down your thigh and dripping onto his legs.

"God, you're going to make me come so quick," you cried, your hand lowering between your thighs to reach your clit. With two fingers, you began to massage your flesh while bouncing down his cock, riding him, feeling the tip so deep within your walls. You let loose, moaning and whimpering. He couldn't help but groan, feeling your walls tighten around him, feeling your juices drip down his groin.

You felt him thrust upward towards you, following your pace, and a second orgasm started building low in your stomach. You felt it everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to the edge of your toes. It thrummed every nerve, vibrating you to the bone. "Fuck, I'm close."

His breath quickened as he felt your walls clenching him, his eyes brushing every inch of your body. You were such a sight to see. He was entranced by the way you were thrusting yourself on his cock, your breasts bouncing from the movement, your taut nipples begging for attention. He couldn't stop himself when he suddenly pulled you in, momentarily surprising you, and sucked onto your nipple hungrily.

You cried out when you felt his teeth softly tugging your nub. You were supposed to be in control, and you still wanted to keep your dominance, but it was hard to when he suddenly planted his feet on the bed and thrust his hips into you at a mind-numbing speed. Harshly. Roughly. Violently.

"Fucking hell, Spencer," you moaned, holding onto his shoulders. "I-I'm gonna—"

His fingers dug harshly into the tender skin of your sides, his hips were bucking up uncontrollably, desperate to reach the blissful relief. His tone became ragged as he groaned what sounded like your name entwined. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that began uncoiling in his entire body. You grabbed onto his unruly hair, tugging it back roughly before smearing open-mouthed kisses all over his throat and collarbones, voicing out your whimpers right into his ear.

That was enough for him—he came undone, allowing his muscles to contract one last time as he spilled into you, filling you completely with warmth with one last thrust. You followed him with a scream, wrenched from your throat so roughly it seared its way out of your lungs and into the air. Your movements became sloppy and uneven, clinging onto him as you chased your own high.

The room smelt of sex. It was your first thought when you finally felt your body relaxing, your mind coming back to its senses. Never, not even once in your life, have you ever considered kissing Spencer willingly.

Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he had the most amazing eyes, and yes, his soft demeanor did attract you the first time you met him, but that was it. He was simply your coworker, one you didn't know that well, one who seemed to make a big deal out of spending the night with you... and ironically, one who had you shaking in pleasure.

You weren't sure what would happen next. At first, you thought your presence ticked him off in the wrong way because you were the new, inexperienced member of the team... but now you couldn't help but speculate the way he acted differently towards you had something to do with what just happened.

Maybe he didn't think of you as a mere colleague... maybe he thought of you as someone potentially more? You could be right, or you could be wrong, and there was only one way to find out. You softly let your fingers brush his cheek.

"You need to take me out on a proper date," you suggested through the silence. Then a smile bloomed on your face when you felt him dip his head in your palm.

The nod he gave you couldn't be anymore faster.

[unoriginal-and-dumb]

I imagine that they were childhood friends and played on the gross play rugs in ikea

Headcanons me and my friend came up with if you guys would like to read… huehuehue.. 👇👇

wiki says lampert was formed in a factory but it doesn’t say he was brought to LIFE in a factory. we hc that kasper “made” lampert as a child because he was lonely in ikea and had no friends. Also being one of those mf kids who draw on the walls and everything else. he drew a face on a lamp and the next day it turned into a boy yippee. they grew up together as best friends

kasper originally named lampert lamper, cause his name is kasper and he just replaced the kasp with lamp. when he came to life lampert was like no i think its lampert, not lamper and kasper was like ok 👍😁

they liked to play cars on the car play rug in ikea. kasper liked to race and crash them and lampert liked to send in the police and ambulance for cleanup. theyd play that over and over again it never got old

when they would play outside, they liked to set up things to look really pretty (like a nice stick and leaf house or dress up a really pretty doll) and then set it on fire with a magnifying glass (lampert liked the first part, kasper liked the second part)

kasper is korean-american and he had slightly lighter hair as a kid (LET ME HAVE THIS HAVE HAVE NOTHING)

both them ace and specifically lampert ace aro and specifically like romance and sex repulsed ace aro like if you stand too close to him he freaks out imagine if someone were to kiss him that would not fly. romance and sex r NASTY to him do not touch him

when lampert would hang out with kasper he would just stand very still in the corner of the room the whole time. not for any bad reason, he is just a lamp and does not see the need to do anything else than stand in the corner while he talks. when they hang out at ikea sometimes kasper starts talking to the wrong lamp because of this

lampert has a set list of facial expressions that show exactly how he feels. this is verging on not ok :) (his normal expression) this is not ok : ) (scawy) or this : ( this is silly :] these are all more fine :( :[ D: :D :o :/

lampert talks with a similar cadence to baymax snd also is politely blunt in the very autistic way. he states his opinion on something even if maybe its not a nice thing to say but he says it very politely (when eating food someone made for him that he really doesnt like: “i dont think i will be finishing this, it does not taste good. thank you! goodbye”)

They are so autism vs adhd to me.

Kasper was probably a sticky iPad leash kid before that was really a thing he’s a real trendsetter what a guy. He would run all over the place nonstop and everyone would just see some freak kid run mach 4 snatch a rug off the ground and then disappear like a gnome

[etirabys]

just saw a post about how normal people aren't equipped for internet fame, no one teaches you how to deal with going viral, ordinary bloggers don't have PR teams, etc

it was a nice post, but it drove me nuts in the same way that otherwise empathetic disability posts that posit [some mythical neurotypical that doesn't have those issues at all] drive me nuts – actually famous people are not equipped for internet fame. You could be the richest person in the world and the harassment of millions will drive you almost literally insane. Check out this not-even-that-famous guy's account on what his life became:

internet hate is utterly unsolveable and horrifically bad, and the implication that it's okay to do it to people "if they have a PR team" disgusts me. Unless you have an atypically strong personality, material resources won't make more than a big dent. There's no fucking follower count after which psychotic treatment of them becomes fine

The notion that any material or human resource can protect you from the downsides of visibility-to-millions is fantasy. The notion that we can do it to other human beings without guilt is an even uglier fantasy.

If you have a public figure you loathe, and it seems fine and good that they get death threats for their repulsive behavior, I believe you've made them worse.

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐅*𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑.

-ˏˋ. 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˊˎ-

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — FWB!matthew tkachuk x f!reader 𝐰𝐜 — 1.7k 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — "old habits die hard..." — or, your boyfriend won’t fuck you right, so you run to the one person who always does.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — patrons know the chokehold this toxic sin-fest has on me and probably always will... in all seriousness, this is one of my favorite things i've ever published and i am so insanely proud of it. i hope you love it as much as i do <3

(spoiler — not possible teehee)

18+ MDNI — content warnings under the cut.

𝐜𝐰 — profanity, innuendo, matthew’s filthy mouth and lack of morals, cheating (not on matty or the reader), outdated/incorrect information about having sex for the first time, borderline too much degradation, some objectification to add a little spice, unprotected sex w a cheeky creampie (what did you expect from two morally bankrupt individuals written by me, a retired whore?), matthew being a noncommittal, possessive piece of shit joking about knocking people up for funzies

────────────

“D’you think you’re so addicted to my cock because you know I don’t give a fuck what you think about me? Or care if you think I’m a Nice Guy?”

Even buried to the hilt—bare with nothing between you and far too fucking close for comfort—Matthew Tkachuk runs his mouth like he’s got nothing to lose and even less to prove. He’s insufferable, his only redeeming quality being the pulsing appendage threatening to split you in half as you buck in his lap.

With your hands braced against his hard chest for leverage, you drown out his grating voice, chasing the white-hot surges, bolts of lightning leading you to the brink of collapse with renewed vigor.

The sooner you come, the sooner he’s gone.

“All I care about, sweetheart, is fucking you good and hard. Giving it to you like the hungry, cockdrunk whore that you are.”

Debonair attitude. Sly confidence. Vulgar demeanor.

Filthy fucking mouth.

You were warned about Matthew Tkachuck. Repeatedly. Warned about him and his complete lack of a filter, about his total disregard for anyone’s feelings but his own. His aversion to commitment, to monogamy, to propriety.

All the things that repulse you about the man lounging on expensive hotel sheets beneath you—as you do all the work—lure you back to him in equal measure. He shouldn’t turn you on, but that’s exactly why he does. He’s all wrong, wrong, wrong.

Which makes him just right.

“I bet if your fiancé walked in right now, you’d just keep riding me. You wouldn’t even notice, would you? After all, you haven’t cum yet. And that’s all you care about, right? Using my cock to get your rocks off because Billy Boyfriend’s too scared to give you what you really need. Lucky for you, I’m not a fuckin’ pussy. I don’t treat you like a fragile doll because I know you’ll take anything I give you—and beg for more. I treat you like what you are, not some chaste little princess.”

You’ve been with Bill for nearly a decade, engaged for more than a year. It’ll be a spring wedding, probably. If the venue pans out, and the caterer finally calls you back with a final quote.

Perfect on paper.

He doesn’t pay attention to you the way he used to. Just throws money at the problem until he can bury himself in work again, undisturbed by you or nagging obligation.

Flowers for being three hours late, a necklace for missing dinner entirely. A trip overseas when he had to go into the office on your anniversary.

But he’s nice, so fucking nice it hurts, and more loyal than the Golden Retriever he wants to adopt after the honeymoon. After you’re settled into a custom-build nestled comfortably in the suburbs and far away from the city. White picket fence, manicured lawn, barely-there speed limits.

It's all so nauseatingly idyllic. So perfectly attuned with what you thought you wanted, what you spent your childhood coveting.

All your single friends are jealous; your committed friends are resentful. Your family loves him, and even though you’ve got a fucked up way of showing it, so do you.

And he loves you too. He’s just busy. It’ll be different once we’re settled, he says. You try to believe him, though not as hard as you should. You tell yourself it's because he doesn’t either.

Bill’s gotten lazy. You’ve gotten bored.

You’re no angel, and never claimed to be. You just want to feel good.

Matthew barks out a dry laugh, almost like he can read your mind.

“You haven’t been since I first got you on your knees at his birthday party. And definitely not after I popped that sweet cherry you were so adamant about saving for him."

Bill doesn’t fuck you. He never has.

He makes love to you. It’s that romance-novel tenderness that got you here in the first place. Slow, sweet, and nearly devoid of passion. It’s so gentle you have to think of him just to come.

How he fucks you.

How tightly he yanks your hair, craning your neck until it aches. How hard he kneads and smacks your ass, bullying the skin until you sob. How deep his cock reaches. And how he takes, takes, takes without forethought. How could you accept a lifetime of only tame rutting in the face of Pavlovian depravity?

It’s awful, and it's so profoundly selfish, but his everything has you in a bind.

Matthew’s everything is ruining your life.

An uncharacteristic wave of guilt and sadness washes over you, and before you can catch yourself, you’re staring down at the engagement ring. The band constricts, digging into your finger like it's out for blood when you glimpse the indentation it left behind on Matthew’s peck. You wince, then choke down the shame lodged in your throat, screwing your eyes shut to will it away.

“If it's bothering you that much, take it off. I’ll keep it safe for you.” —wink— “I can’t imagine the weight of a rock like that, especially one you don’t even deserve. But, if you actually felt as guilty as you claim to, you wouldn’t be this wet on another man’s cock. Don’t play saint now. You’ll ruin the fun.”

You can’t do this right now; you can’t have this worn-out fight. So, you say what you always say even though you’ve long since stopped trying to mean it.

“You keep saying that, sweetheart. We should stop. This is the last time. But no matter what you say, you always come crawling back to me sooner or later because I have what you need. Because I’m not him. Because I fuck you better.”

His words light you on fire. You hate it, but how deeply your body enjoys them is undeniable. How tightly you squeeze and flutter with every degrading line, choking his cock as you use him to satisfy your own perverted needs. How his brutal honesty, his refusal to let you forget your zealous participation in the affair for even a second, arches your back and hardens your nipples.

Even without all that evidence stacked against you, the blitzed-out look on your face says it all. One look at you and everyone would know just how right Matthew is.

“Shut the fuck up,” you growl.

You say it for the sake of saying it. To know, when you curl into Bill's side tonight, that you said something to deny his assessment of you.

But the last thing you want is for him to shut his mouth.

Not right now, not when you’re right there—

“You can’t hide from me, sweetheart, and you can’t lie to me. You can’t fool me, either. I see right fucking through you. It terrifies you—and you love it.”

His raspy voice swims freely through your hollowed-out mind. It unwittingly thumbs through every unforgivable memory, like some sort of pornographic Rolodex.

Matthew’s hips grinding against yours in darkened corners and dive-bar bathroom stalls and poker tables.

His hands fighting against hard-earned sweat in the foggy backseat of his car, battling to find purchase anywhere he can so he can keep rutting with reckless abandon before you’re expected home.

His fingertips burrowing into the sides of your throat, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to silence, hard enough to hurt.

Him spilling inside of you, ropes painting the sacred place white with no remorse or expectation of responsibility.

Matty’s hand over your mouth, urging you to be fucking quiet as he pistons in and out, in and out, keeping you pinned against the bathroom door, against the only thing standing between Bill and the worst discovery of his apple-pie life—

Old habits die hard.

Especially when it’s one that always feels that fucking good. No matter how lecherous or immoral.

Or how badly the betrayal would hurt someone underserving and innocent.

“Even if you walk down that aisle and take his last name, you’ll still belong to me. Wedding or not, this pathetic, weeping cunt belongs to me. But it’s all gonna be okay, though. Don’t you worry that pretty, empty head. I don’t mind sharing my toys. Especially with someone who could never compete.”

You can't compete where you don't compare.

He doesn’t want to be your boyfriend. He doesn’t want to be anyone’s boyfriend. He isn’t the Relationship Type. He doesn’t even want to be exclusive. That’s part of his appeal, no matter how fervently you deny it. He doesn’t want more than pleasure—primal, deviant pleasure—and that’s all you're looking for.

That's all you need.

“Where do you want my load, dirty girl?”

“Inside. I-Inside me, please, Matty.”

“Right answer.”

The burst of warmth is like getting a perfect grade you didn’t earn. Or feeling the cash your sibling gave you in exchange for not ratting them out sitting in your back pocket. It's hard to feel bad about the wrong you’ve done when the payoff is so deliciously worthwhile.

Matthew twitches, still hugged by your sensitive walls, and you shudder.

This is the high you chase every time you bend your morals until they splinter. The still nothingness that lays beyond the denouement, where everything is glowy and the pit inside you appears not-so-bottomless for once. The lack of expectations and obligations. The sheer freedom that stringless pleasure, that sensual self-indulgence provides.

Matthew doesn’t owe you anything, you don’t owe him anything either, and neither of you pretends otherwise.

And you sure as fuck don’t trip on his dirty laundry every time you walk into the bedroom.

“If that doesn’t take,” Matthew flicks his hips in emphasis, “…let me know when and where you want your wedding present, sweetheart.”

You don’t answer. You push his hands away and roll off of him unceremoniously. But he keeps talking.

Matthew is always talking.

“Oh, and before I forget, would you be a dear and let Billy know I won’t be able to make it for his bachelor party? I don’t know why, but I have the oddest feeling that something desperately needing my attention will come up.”

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All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2023 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

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asks, reblogs and comments very welcome and greatly appreciated!!

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[khryptid]

It’s International Asexuality Day today!! but more importantly I want to share my hc that the entire Strawhat crew is some form of ace (I’m big on them being demisexual bc I am and also the ✨Power of Friendship✨is real big with them).

For the breakdown:

Luffy: ace, like all the way (but not sex repulsed). Meat and adventure are the only things on his brain.

Zoro: most likely grey-ace; sometimes he feels it, more often not, but between protecting the crew and training for his dream, he’s got other things to care about.

Nami: could easily flip flop ace (sex repulsed) or demisexual. She knows how she looks and will use it to her advantage, but I think with her origin story, she would be incredibly careful on who she is vulnerable with.

Ussop: 100% demisexual. My man’s befriended one person as a kid and that’s who he’ll simp for the rest of his life. (It’s Kaya, I’m incredibly sappy for childhood friends to lovers)

Sanji: demisexual; for all his flirting ways, he wants a meaningful connection that could potentially last a lifetime. (I feel between the little moments of protecting the crew and watching each other’s backs, Zoro could easily become that lifelong connection)

Chopper: ace; he’s a baby and focused on being the best doctor. (Could change when he’s older bc sexuality is fluid, but he’s got years to go)

Robin: grey-ace; while her own feelings only pop up once in a blue moon, she definitely takes the chance to ask about the romantic/sexuality culture and it’s effects on society of whatever island they’re visiting when she can.

Franky: ace (sex positive); he’s always more interested in building ships/new gadgets or modifying his body, but he’s not against sharing a moment with someone he cares for. (Maybe Robin-Idk I can see them as an aunt and uncle to the younger Strawhats but Morticia and Gomez Addams style)

Brook: when he was alive, demisexual, but now, definitely ace. Even with his running panties gag, he doesn’t actually feel anything and does it more as a way to lighten tension or humanize himself in the eyes of those who might be afraid of a talking skeleton. (Brook’s thought process, “they can’t be screaming at me in terror if they’re berating me for being a pervert”)

Jinbe: grey-ace; back in the day he was more into it, but honestly, he’s got a crew to look out for, enemies to fight, and freedom to share with the world so who has the time or the energy to think about it.

[butch-reidentified]

I've been frustrated with the beauty hypocrisy on radblr. I seen many posts how radblr say it hates the beauty industry and plastic surgery... Everyone including feminists and radfeminists say shit like "be yourself, be confident, plastic surgery is bad" but as an fat girl since early childhood and without trendy beauty features, I was definitely treated as an unworthy ogre by pretty much the whole world. Radfems on here are like: beauty doesn't matter! if you're fat that means you're ugly and revolting! just accept it and be happy! 😍😌 I hate that everyone trying to make me accept the idea that Im ugly and an ugliest skinny fucktard is attractive by the default... And that im undesirable, that every inch of my body is repulsive and offensive to all the humanity... And if i want to be considered human i need to be at least 60 kg...Radblr says that it hates modern beauty standards but has the same understanding of "beauty" as your typical tasteless male gym rat. Plastic surgery is way more than just "fixing" your ethnic nose. I definately want to change pretty much my whole face in the future. And i know the hypocrites who call me unnatractive now will laugh in my face and tell "just be myself" after the surgeries including all the "i hate beuty industry" feminists. You can't always bully "ugly" people and say you hate plastic surgery at the same time! That's hypocrisy radblr.

Girl idk how many ppl you're gonna send this to but radfems aren't bullying women for their appearances. Do you think all radfems are skinny conventionally attractive white women? Bc that's utterly false and borders on delusional. Plenty of us have embraced body neutrality and are able to exist happily as gnc women, fat women, not conventionally attractive women, etc. Hell, I actively take pride in being unattractive to males. The radfem perspective on this is consistent, sorry to tell ya.

[asexualenjolras]

I've just finished Heartbreak High (delayed, I know) and I was so excited about the asexual representation we were given ... just to jump on here and find that a lot of people are saying that Cash's asexuality story was handled poorly because he doesn't explicitly say he's on the asexuality spectrum, or because Darren didn't respond very well but I disagree with everything that's being said.

I think Heartbreak High handled this storyline in the most authentic way and let me explain why:

Firstly, I think it's important to remember that Cash is an eshay. He's grown up around a very bigoted group of young people, who - you can assume - hold very extreme, neagtive opinions about the LGBTQA+ community. Despite this, we see him accept his love for Darren in a very real way. He's not afraid to be seen with them in public but he does panic a little when his fellow eshays see him with them - even going so far as to say that Darren is a "customer" when asked who they are. We see at the Mardis Gras that he panics when he sees his eshay friend dealing. He isn't afraid of being out, he's afraid of their opinions of him being out. He's afraid of the eshays, not of being queer.

If you think that Cash and his eshay friends would have a deep understanding of sexuality - let alone asexuality - then you're very mistaken.

Not only that, but asexuality is massively misunderstood anyway. People on the asexuality spectrum can go years without finding a label that fits them. I was 18 when I discovered the spectrum. I spent 18 years of my life thinking I was broken.

We see that Cash has accepted this part of himself - he doesn't worry about him being broken or a disappointment, he just worries that he will lose Darren because of it. That's actually really advanced, considering he doesn't even know what asexuality is.

-

Secondly, Darren is a non-binary, queer person. They have a good understanding of the community and different sexuality but one thing that they don't understand - or even know about - is asexuality. This is common in the community. Asexuality is massively unrepresented and there is a lot of false information out there about it.

From Darren's perspective, their partner didn't want to have sex with them. They've grown up feeling like they were unlovable, it's a very authentic reaction for someone to have. And it's a barrier that a lot of asexual people have to overcome in relationships because their partners just don't get that it isn't personal.

Quinni says it the best, she says that "Cash might just be wired differently", and that's what makes Darren a little more understanding - that and speaking with their dad about their trauma from their parents' divorce. They finally understand that Cash didn't have bad experiences with sex but doesn't have that attraction or urge to sleep with someone. They have a lot of unresolved trauma from their childhood, and hypersexuality can be linked to that.

-

Thirdly, it is so beautiful that Heartbreak High have explored the asexuality spectrum in the way they have; usually, ace characters in shows and movies don't have a love interest while they figure out what they feel about or want out of relationships. In Heartbreak High, we see Cash understand that he is attracted to Darren romantically - he actively says he has loved them since he was in Year 8 - and not be afraid of that.

He also knows he is repulsed by sex and doesn't feel anything towards it. He knows it isn't anything to do with the other person and tries his best to communicate that to Darren. And then we see Darren accept Cash's boundaries and we seem them really try to support him through this development.

-

Additionally, we don't see Cash label his sexuality at all. He doesn't say "I'm bisexual but don't like sex", or "I think I'm gay but sex isn't for me". This is really important because it gives room for the show to explore his sexuality in further detail later on. We can still get him discovering the word, and we can still see him finding a term to identify with (if he wants to, some people don't need a term to understand themselves).

There is so much room to talk about the difference between sexual attraction and romantic attraction, and room for the show to explore where Cash lies in that bracket of identification. We don't know if he's homoromantic, greyromantic, demiromantic, biromantic etc, and I really hope we get to see him explore that. Because it's a challenging thing to have to try to understand after coming to terms with being on the ace spectrum.

There is so much pressure to label yourself at that young age. I think it's rather positive that we have a character that understands his preferences and knows how he feels about sex without having that pressure so early on.

Sure, he likely doesn't know what asexuality is but it will be really interesting to see where the show takes this in future.

As I said, I didn't find the word to describe my sexuality until I was 18. Some people don't until they're middle aged. There's still time for Cash to discover the term and identify with the asexuality spectrum.

-

We see that Cash has tried sex and didn't enjoy it. He doesn't have that urge to go further, and when he does he doesn't enjoy it. That's such good bloody representation. I can't get over it. Despite being shown to be quite anxious about how he feels around sex, he isn't shown to be ashamed of it. That's so healthy and so important.

He doesn't get it and he is still having those confusing problems with his sexuality but he isn't ashamed of it.

-

Finally, I just want to reiterate that Cash not explicitly saying he's asexual does NOT mean that he isn't asexual. The writers and directors of the show have expressly said that he is asexual representation. This pressure to label yourself when you're still trying to figure things out - as Cash says directly - is really dehumanising.

Cash is a human being. He's a young person that is really confused about why he isn't like everyone else. He's having an internal struggle with his preferences and he doesn't understand why he feels the way he does, why he's "wired differently", why he doesn't "feel the same shit" as Darren and other people his age.

It's a really confusing time when you are growing up ace. It makes no sense until you find the community and you find that you're not alone.

Cash Piggott is canonically asexual and it's even more raw that he doesn't label himself so early on because that is the ace experience for so many people.

-

I love Cash. I love him so much. And I hope the show explores his asexuality in more detail in the future. I think the show did this so well.

Cash's experience isn't every asexual person's experience - it's his experience. The ace experience is a very personal thing and to see it brought to life on screen in such a raw way is SO IMPORTANT.

I LOVE DOUGLAS PIGGOTT WITH MY WHOLE ACE HEART.

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

asking for Velvette Dx and/or head canons if it's not too much hassle! Plz and ty!

tw // suicide

I would like to preface all my posts on headcanons related to psychology and mental illness with a disclaimer: diagnosing mental conditions, especially personality disorders, can be extremely challenging. It's a complicated process that relies heavily on a psychologist's interpretation of facts, making it susceptible to biases. Personality disorders cannot be diagnosed based on surface-level observations and are not just labels that we can assign to people like in the case of MBTI. Additionally, I am not a clinician with any expertise in diagnosing people. Therefore, the following post should not be taken as a reliable professional opinion. It's simply my interpretation of the internal mechanisms that may be responsible for the behavior of certain characters in my fan fiction. Furthermore, I want to make it clear that I have no intention of stigmatizing people with personality disorders by associating them with villains. A personality disorder does not determine someone's character or make them a bad person. Some characters may be evil because of the choices they make, not as a result of their mental conditions.

So, as I mentioned, I headcanon Velvette as having an Antisocial Personality Disorder. It is characterized by lack of sympathy or empathy for the rights of others, while simultaneously acting charming and interpersonally manipulative.

❤️ Throughout her childhood, Velvette lived exclusively with her father in the impoverished and sketchy part of the city. Her father worked a lot to earn them living but at the same time he drank a lot and while drunk tend to be aggressive. Also he surrounded himself with bad people. In my mind Velvette can deal with Vox and Val's shit so well because since she was little she was surrounded by unpredictable and violent men. At this point she couldn't be less scared of them.

❤️ She endured relentless bullying during her school years due to her inability to afford stylish clothes and gadgets. This was particularly hurtful for her, given her deep passion for fashion. Velvette devoted all her free time to design stunning looks, harboring a fervent desire to be able to wear them.

❤️ Around 12, she figured that following rules was pointless, being in a disadvantaged position due to her family's poverty. The sole way to boost her social status, in her view, was to break those rules. This extended beyond minor offenses like stealing groceries; she engaged in more serious crimes, such as taking money, clothes, and jewelry from stores and individuals. She never felt any remorse for these actions; to her, they were merely a means to achieve her goals, regardless of the harm inflicted on others.

❤️ She never finished her education because sticking to school rules wasn't her forte. She had the smarts and charm to sidestep juvenile detention. Despite concerns from a few individuals, we all know how well the system deals with "troubled teens." Besides, her father wasn't bothered by psychologists' opinions as long as she was bringing in some cash.

❤️ As a young woman she used her charm to manipulate men and take advantage over them. While she contemplated sex work as an easy money-making avenue, she found men too repulsive to engage in it. Instead, her preferred method involved blackmail – she seduced married men, particularly the submissive ones drawn to her aggression and coldness. Through this, she gathered intelligence and skillfully weaponized it against them.

❤️ At some point, she blew up as this super popular influencer. It kicked off with her sharing cool, low-cost looks on the internet. People loved her sassy attitude and creative stuff. But as she got more famous, it stopped being about creativity and turned into a power trip. She built a cult-like following around herself and started abusing her power. Being openly mean worked in her favor online – people ate it up, especially when she got into online fights. No matter how wild it got, no one could successfully cancell her. Actually, I think Vox really admires her talent for stirring up drama. He pushed her several times to get on some reality show, thinking it'd make the ratings explode. But the darkest stuff Velvette pulled wasn't out there for everyone to see. It all went down in her DMs. She justified it as "finally getting justice from rich white brats," using her influence to get teens to pull off crimes and risky stuff. She even manipulated at least two depressed kids into taking their own lives. When shit hit the fan, and she knew prison was coming, she took it as one last chance to torment people. During a "live stream apology," she commmited suicide in front of thousands of people.

❤️ In the show, it's evident that she's downright rude. Not just to Carmilla and the other overlords, but also towards Vox and her own employees. The lack of sensitivity and respect for others, coupled with a strong sense of superiority and being extremely opinionated, are typical traits associated with Antisocial Personality Disorder (APD). My girl literally got song called Respectless.

❤️ She disregards any kind of authorities and when someone tries to impose their will onto her, she's going berserk.

❤️ She genuinely couldn't care less about what people think of her; she despises people that much. In fact, being hated now excites her because she knows she's untouchable and influential and it makes everyone even more angry.

❤️ She's extremely reckless, even if she knows it could hurt her – another trait associated with APD. While we observe Vox and Valentino able to behave when necessary, Velvette storms into overlords' meetings guns blazing and starts with insulting everyone, even though she aims to convince them to align with Vs.

❤️ She struggles to form genuine connections with other people. Still, she's got a soft spot for Vox and Val, sort of considering them her friends. At the same time, she sees them as just a couple of guys she can easily play to her advantage.

Vox hc | Valentino hc

[vasito-de-leche]

Do you have any specific queer headcannons of r1999 characters if so which ones and why?

I wrote a bunch of stuff for this post but then tumblr fucked me up and reloaded without saving it so here we are..... rewriting it all over again ... OAUGH. usually I default to seeing everyone as Vaguely Bisexual and Not Cis until stated otherwise, but you asked for specifics so here we go!

6 is aromantic or demiromantic.

On one hand, it's because I love projecting on my faves. On the other hand, it's because he genuinely doesn't feel like the type of person to be interested in relationships. But this isn't something that's tied to any potential disgust, repulsion or even trauma related to his Revelation and struggle against fate -- to me, 6 just doesn't feel romantic attraction. At the very least, nothing strong enough to consider pursuing. It's not in his priorities. I really dislike this specific thing that fandoms do in which every single character who is introverted, or who happens to be alone/isolated (either by chance or by choice) is secretly lonely, touch starved, pining and desperate for attention and romantic love. It feels like such a huge disrespect for their equally important platonic or familial relationships. 6 already holds a lot of love for his own community and his childhood friends, a type of affection that is shown in his subtle and unique ways. I like it when his character focuses on those aspects instead!

Mesmer Jr. is aromantic and asexual.

In her case, she's the opposite of 6. Mesmer Jr.'s trauma and OCD is much too intense for her to even consider the idea of an emotional or physical bond with anyone. She's disgusted at the idea of touching others so casually, and she's afraid at the possibility of allowing a person (someone she logically cannot have any control over) into her life because what if they throw her off her schedule? What if they mess every meticulous thing she's planned for herself and her mental stability? What if she loses her grip? Yes, it's plausible that she may find a partner who works perfectly with the way she needs things to be, and yes, you can headcanon that she heals and her OCD becomes "manageable" enough to have a stable relationship, but personally? I just like it when characters don't get to have stereotypical happy endings in which everything gets better through love and friendship and support -- like, yeah everyone loves to see their faves happy and all but eh... It's a bit of projection on my part! Some people don't get to heal and do all the things their disabilities prevented them from doing, even if we're given all this support and love. Some of us just have to find ways around these things, anything that works for us that makes our lives easier.

Sweetheart is queer but has a complex relationship with love. In a somewhat similar vein, Blonney has gone through every single letter of the LGTBQ+ community.

I tried my best to explain my thoughts on Sweetheart but at this point she deserves her own post because it's honestly a LOT, this single part was just too long so I cut it out entirely. Just trust me when I say she's queer and has a very complex relationship with love. In Blonney's case, we discussed the possibility of her being written as comphet and it got me to think a little about her. I see Blonney as the type of girl who presents as a straight bimbo, following the themes of her character and all, but who has constant crisis after crisis in the privacy of her bedroom, the only place she's allowed to be more than just a blondie. This constant journey questioning her orientations and gender happens entirely in her head and in private. I like to think that she just has these long monologues in her head. Sure, she's identified as straight her whole life, but maybe bisexual works better because there was that one girl she kept meeting under the bleachers. Oh, but maybe she's a lesbian, since all her boyfriends are just huge disappointments and none of them ever make her truly happy. Oh, but maybe that's just because she has bad taste in men, there was that one guy in class who keeps making her laugh after all. Ahh, this would be so much easier if she were a guy, her femininity is mostly performative after all. Ah, but she actually really loves pink and fashion... Nonbinary then? No, she's not the type to pick something so vague, it's one or the other. Oh, how about both? Genderfluid! Etc etc. If you ask her about how she identifies, she'll simply brush you off with a "What's it to you? That's none of your business, creep!" and move on, but this is something very personal to her. So far, she knows she likes being femme presenting and that she likes Jessica!

Eagle is a trans girl.

Have you guys seen those posts going around tumblr about how important it is that trans women exist because they fight for their own womanhood and girlhood in a world that constantly looks down upon feminine things and all women as a whole? Yeah. Yeah. Eagle being a scout that fights so hard to prove herself, the feelings of not belonging into the Boy Scouts and seeing how the Girl Scouts are created eventually, a space for her. The fact that she visits her father's grave so that he can see her grow up.

Kaalaa Baunaa, Oliver Fog, Medicine Pocket and Melania are probably bisexual, but they're super busy with work so they don't have time to address that.

Self-explanatory <3 I do like to think that Kaalaa and Medpoc are more chill about it, Kaalaa because she's a grown ass woman who is very mature, and Medpoc because they genuinely give no fucking shits about dating in general, so who cares about confirming whether they're bisexual or not. Oliver Fog is a little more flustered at the idea of exploring his orientation and whatnot, but it's tolerable. BUT MELANIA? I LOVE to think that she's FULLY aware that the MOMENT she acknowledges her bisexuality, she will have a crisis and then what will she do? She has 3 papers due next week and a heist this weekend, she can't possibly sit there wondering about liking girls! She's got things to do!

And here's the extra round of HCs that don't require that much text to explain or that lean towards being more silly!

Eternity has literally outlived the concept of gender. She/They royalty.

37 has QRPs instead. It Just Works. No one but herself and her partners understand the dynamics, though. As god intended <3

APPLe is a raging bisexual and has been spotted in many gay bars. Regulus is also bisexual.

The world would've been a better place if Bette was a butch lesbian.

Balloon Party and An-An Lee play with gender like its playdough.

Baby Blue is Not Cis and she's Not Straight either because none of that shit matters to her anymore, since she's been disconnected from reality and society for so long. She also doesn't care about labelling herself.

Diggers is trans, but no one can figure out which way exactly. It doesn't help that he refuses to clarify either. The same thing happens with John Titor, except she's very vocal about being a transwoman.

Bunny Bunny is bisexual but she hasn't realized this yet. In similar fashion, Horropedia is bisexual but he just forgets about it sometimes.

Druvis III as a trans woman goes hand in hand with Forget Me Not as a gay man. This is why they're both super divorced.

Leilani is pansexual because she prefers the colors of that specific flag over the bisexual one. Spathodea is pansexual because the personal distinction between pansexuality and bisexuality matters to her.

Tennant is bisexual because she can scam and seduce more people that way.

The Fool is nonbinary. Mf should've been born in the 2020's, I just KNOW he would've loved mirrorgender.

Zima is in the closet not out of shame but out of safety. Just in case.

Sotheby assumes that every girl in the world likes girls. So far no one has been able to prove her wrong because all she does is interact with other sapphic girls.

Pavia is nonbinary out of spite. But I also love transguy Pavia HCs so so so much, give that guy boobs, he would never get top surgery <3

Vertin is nonbinary too but she doesn't care about people knowing about it. She does, however, make the effort to be a little androgynous, as a treat for herself.

Madam Z and Katz absolutely had a Situationship going on during university. Katz was bicurious and Madam Z helped her experiment. Now the Situationship is between Madam Z and Constantine, the latter using Madam Z as a rebound after fumbling her relationship with Vertin's mother <- the machinations in my brain will astonish you.

TTT is genderfluid by virtue of being a picture on a TV, so I like to think she can just shift her appearance. In similar fashion, gender means nothing to Alien T and Voyager because they're aliens.

I specifically love the idea of all of the 1.2 gang joking about how Tooth Fairy is their token straight adult figure -- she's actually bi and asexual, but likes to keep that to herself so the kids can make their little jokes and have fun.

Enigma is gay and homophobic because his self-loathing is just that strong.

Turns out that the push Click needed to explore his own sexuality was getting killed on the battlefield, so now he's free to be gay. perhaps bicurious.

[weebsinstash]

Help, I’ve got massive brain rot about both YanSpiderverse and the YT fics. Like if we go from your post when platonic Yan Miguel makes reader call him Tio/Papa and the one about Miguel angst, Imagine in the moment when he thinks reader is YouTwo and gets rid of them/kicks them out of spider society, he gets angry at them for calling him Tio/Papa again. Only once reader comes back, literally almost dead from glitching through the multiverse, they’re in too much shock/too scared of what Miguel will do to them to call him that again. Cue regretful/pissed off Miguel earning back his Tio privileges by being a bit tooo nice to reader.

NOOOOOOO because he spent all this time forcing his affections on you and eventually legitimately actually winning some sort of trust and affection from you and you're able to trust him as this weird parental/platonic guardian figure who's never supposed to hurt you and you're finally calling him tio/papá and asking for his help and it just makes him SHOUT IN ANGER AT YOU, maybe even slap or punch you because from his perspective you're a dirty fake soiling something that's precious to him

YOU'RE COMING TO HIM FOR HELP IN A MOMENT OF VULNERABILITY AND HE JUST HURTS YOU like really for people like me that's a revisit to the childhood trauma that made him wanna give you a proper father figure in the first place. He tries to heal you after you get abused by your dad and then he hurts you in a moment of need, like, the angst man, just him seeing how he's completely lost your trust, he reaches for you to hold you and you FLINCH becuase you still remember him punching you so hard it almost knocked some of your teeth out

Like imagine Miguel's DISGUST if he's gotten rid of you and he's with YouTwo and he thinks he's won and he's helped you and you're just so happy and YouTwo just. Eventually comes on to him. Like the immediate 180 degree turn in his emotional state from victorious to devastated. Maybe he's trying to hug 'you' in an emotional embrace because he's feeling so stressed and you ground him and here's YouTwo, suddenly smiling up at him so coyly, putting a hand on his chest that starts trailing lower, lower, leaning to try and kiss him, and he's just like NO ABSOLUTELY NOT, WHERE IS MY BABY 😭 the DISGUST, the REPULSION, who is this PERVERT pretending to be his little one?

There are just all these little things he used to enjoy with you that he cant anymore that he misses SO much. He used to love to comb and do things with your hair and when you return from essentially living in the wilderness you just have it cut SO short and he kinda grieves not being able to do anything with your hair anymore (at least until it grows back, and maybe his new routine is washing your hair for you and massaging your scalp with hair regrowth treatments which he maybe concocted himself being a genius geneticist and all). You're extremely quiet now and when you speak to him it's always like you hesitate first, as if you're catering every word to please him to not get harmed. He used to take you on Spiderman missions and nowadays you're so ran down from your experience that you could use a few MONTHS of resting up before you feel like going back out into the fray again (IF your Papá let's you, which, he won't, not without him). He had new clothes for you that you don't fill out the same anymore because you've lost weight and muscle

But on the flip side. Maybe your experience was so traumatizing and unstable that you need someone showering you with love and support and affection now more than ever. You're afraid to sleep alone, you're scared going out in public where there's strangers or lots of people, you're scared of open areas, you're scared of reflective surfaces that show your reflection, like... Miguel NEEDS to make this up to you and if keeping you with him 24/7 and then some is the answer, he's all too happy to hover, and GOD FORBID if someone does something to you during this time where you're unstable and he's trying to fix things. It could be the smallest thing. You're walking through a hallway and someone runs by in a hurry and they accidentally knock you over and suddenly they're having a massive man lunge at them, knocking them over, barking at them how they need to watch what they're fucking doing, demanding they apologize to you and all but make them beg for your forgiveness

Nowadays, if someone enters Miguel's little office or monitor room or whatever the fuck, there's a chance he's still in the dark as always, but, now there's a chance he's in there sitting in a chair, watching his monitors and working as usual while you're wrapped up in a blanket tucked against his chest, his large body protecting you nice and cozy while you sleep because you finally crashed from the anxiety keeping you awake and being held like this helps fight off the nightmares

[icannotgetoverbirds]

Fat people deserve better.

We are not repulsive. We are not vile. We are not appalling.

We are people.

If my existence "promotes obesity"? Good!

You want to know why?

I am not promoting the idea that someone should become obese. I am not going to attempt to police someone else's body and lifestyle like sizeist people do.

I am promoting the idea that people of all sizes are deserving of the bare minimum of basic human respect.

This should not be a radical idea. This should not be something we have to fight about.

99% of the time? Being fat is not a choice. And you know what? Even if it was - even if I was shoving big macs into my greasy fucking maw every 2 hours?

I would still be deserving of basic decency.

I would still be deserving of proper medical care that takes into account things other than my size and diet.

I would still be deserving of comfort, of clothing that fits.

You want to know the worst part of all of this?

Fat kids deserve better, and all too often, they don't get it.

Fat kids deserve to be able to be active without being mocked for the way their body moves.

Fat kids deserve to be seen as children rather than medical problems that need solving.

Fat kids deserve clothing that fits them and makes them feel good about themselves.

Fat kids deserve to eat, and to eat good food.

Fat kids deserve to eat cake at birthday parties like everyone else.

Fat kids deserve to go trick-or-treating like all the other kids.

Fat kids deserve love. Fat kids deserve respect.

Fat kids deserve a proper childhood without having to pay a toll of trying to change their bodies.

Fat kids deserve acceptance for their bodies as they are and as they will be - not pleasantries about how they'll grow up to be skinny, so they don't need to learn to love themselves before then.

Fat people deserve better.

[taste-your-silhouette]

Pairings: Damiano David x fem!reader Contents: Fluff Summary: You’re at a party and you’re squabbling over a sofa with Damiano when he unintentionally reveals something while unaware that you’re eavesdropping  Words: ~1129 A/N: A touch of enemies to lovers for you all, because I love it!I should warm you that it contains some explicit language.Please, forgive me again if you come across any errors while reading. I hope you enjoy it 💙

I just wanna hold you close tonight

You're at your bestie's party, at her crib. Parties aren't really your thing, but there's no way to dodge one when your friend is the mastermind behind it.

The house is jam-packed, the music is blasting, and Vic, one of your pals, is rocking the DJ booth. Vic and Thomas, your childhood buddies, are also here, along with Ethan. You became friends with Ethan after he joined the band. As for Damiano... well, let's just say you and him are like acquaintances. You wouldn't exactly call him a friend because you both don't exactly hit it off. He tends to make you feel uneasy, so you try to avoid being in the same place as him whenever possible. Whenever his gaze meets yours, it's like all your defenses crumble, and you can't stand that feeling.

You've had a few sips, but not enough to get wasted, just enough to feel a little extra lively and adventurous. Everyone is having a blast, but all you crave is the comfort of your bed. As you navigate through the crowd, trying to escape small talk, you stumble upon a vacant couch in the living room. It's like a dream come true — all you want is to plop down and catch some Z's!

As you were about to reach the sofa, Damiano flings himself onto it, stretching his legs out and occupying the entire space.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you exclaim, giving him a stern look.

He gazes back at you, confused.

"What did I do?"

"I was going to sit there, you goofball."

"Oh, my bad, Y/N. Didn't realize you had plans."

You grumble angrily and retort:

"Move or I'll plop down and squish your head!"

"You know, that wouldn't be a half-bad idea. You sitting on my head, right over my mouth, to be precise," he smirks.

"You're repulsive. Get off the couch, Damiano."

"I've already told you no. Looks like you'll have to sit here by force."

You roll your eyes and throw yourself on top of him, engaging in a playful struggle to push each other off the couch. Suddenly, both of you freeze as you end up on his lap.

Damiano continues to stare at you, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, well."

You roll your eyes and simply say:

"Shut up, and you know what? You can stay right there, no need to move. You're surprisingly comfortable."

You push him, pressing his back against the couch, and then rest your head on his chest.

"Keep quiet, I'm tired," you practically command, closing your eyes.

Incredibly, he simply obeys your request.

//

You don't know exactly how long you've dozed off, but the party is still in full swing, and you're still sprawled on top of Damiano. Amidst all the noise, you can't hear his heart pounding, but you can feel the rhythmic beats.

"Is it the end of the world? You two getting along without exchanging insults," you hear Ethan remark.

"You say that because you didn't witness the battle it took to reach this point," Damiano retorts.

"Damiano, leave her be. Let's enjoy the party," a female voice you don't recognize calls out to Damiano.

You don't pay attention to what Damiano says, or perhaps he simply ignores the girl. With one hand resting on your head, you can faintly feel a gentle stroke through your hair.

He doesn't want to disturb your peaceful slumber. Seeing you so calm and serene lying on his lap is a sight he's never witnessed before. It's a far cry from the usual furrowed and stressed Y/N when you're together.

"Are you planning on staying there until the party is over?" the girl asks once more.

Damiano takes a deep breath and responds:

"Whether or not I stay here all night is none of your business."

Ethan lets out a faint chuckle and waits a few minutes before speaking up:

"Hey, Damiano. Deep down, you have feelings for her, don't you?"

You sense Damiano's heartbeat quicken. Could he be nervous about the question?

Damiano hesitates for a moment before finally admitting: 

"Yeah, I like her, all right? It's just that... she's complicated."

Ethan bursts into laughter.

"I knew it! It's as clear as day if you ask me. And I do not doubt that she likes you too."

Damiano's face lights up with a smile at the thought of his feelings being reciprocated by you. He has liked you since the day you first met, but he never quite knew how to express it. The playful banter and dynamic between you two became his way of catching your attention.

"I really hope so..." he murmurs as he rests his cheek against your head, inhaling the sweet fragrance of your hair. "Please, let her like me," Damiano whispers, almost inaudibly.

You let out a sleepy sigh, lazily opening and closing your eyes, but stay still, relishing the sensation of Damiano's heartbeat.

He likes you, and you heard him confess it. If you hadn't heard it directly from him, if Ethan or anyone else had told you, you would never have believed it.

One of your hands rests on Damiano's shoulder, and you glide it gently across his skin until you reach his neck, where you begin a tender caress.

With his other hand, free to move, Damiano strokes your arm and whispers in your ear,

"How long have you been awake?"

"I'm taking off," Ethan announces.

With your eyes still shut, you respond:

"It's not a big deal, but I heard you confess that you like me and want me to feel the same way."

"Look at me," Damiano requests.

You disregard his plea, not wanting to lose the sensation of his racing heartbeat.

"No, I want to keep feeling your heartbeat."

Damiano chuckles and gently holds your chin, directing your gaze toward him.

"You'll be able to feel it pounding over and over," he says.

You raise an eyebrow and inquire:

"Really?"

"Yes, ever since the day you entered my life, it's been racing at the mere thought of you. It's been yours all along, and you can hear or feel its rhythm whenever you want."

You smile widely and guide one of Damiano's hands to your chest, allowing him to feel your heartbeat as well.

It's just as fast as his.

"My heart dances the same tune. I suppose that's why I'm always on guard whenever I'm around you because my heart belongs to you too."

"Y/N..." Damiano begins, but you cut him off.

"Shh, if I recall correctly, I told you to hush, but it seems that proved challenging for you..."

Before you can finish your sentence, Damiano pulls you into a kiss.

It's a kiss filled with unbridled passion. A kiss that should have taken place ages ago.

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

Masterlist

BINGO THAT I HAVE TO RETURN TO IN 6 MONTHS

Multi-Part fics

Tired dad! Lucifer: Intro Part 1 Part 2

Asmodeus' trip to the human world: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Whb thoughts and analysis

Leviathan with an angel kid

Leviathan and his relationship with childhood

Tf did they do to Asmodeus???

Pb please make Dantalian being Asmodeus' kid canon

Whb x reader headcanons

Making a pokémon team for the kings (+Gamigin)

Some whb characters reacting to being called coaie

Whb characters seeing MC pace around to music (MaDD edition)

First time meeting Gamigin

Gamigin lover headcanons

Showing whb characters animated movies

Whb nobles seeing MC with a random demon

Whb kings comforting MC after a wax

Marbas friendly firing

Avisos cuddle pile (fic)

Mc teaching whb characters a cultural dance

Satan comforting sex repulsed MC

Mc an Minhyeok being siblings (fic)

Paradise Lost misadventures

Mc wants a baby

Gamigin realises that Mc is mortal

Mc that has a plushie collection

Gamigin and Mc both having autism

Gamigin and death once more

NSFW posts

Lucifer NSFW alphabet

Gamigin NSFW alphabet

Zagan NSFW alphabet

Dark headcanons

Being Asmo's fuck toy (dark hcs)

Miscelanious whb hc

Lucifer is Satan's dad ?!?!?!?

Bael is done with Beelzebub's bs (Teambuilding edit)

Pokémon team for whb characters

Random headcanons about some whb characters

Gamigin calling Lucifer dad

Rating Paradise Lost demons on how safe you are going to them

Paradise Lost is so silly

Whb characters' opinion on manele: Gehenna

Lucifer x Gamigin platonic hc

Paradise Lost nobles being called babygirl

Avisos nobles being called babygirl

IS THAT A MOTHERFUCKING HOMESTUCK REFERENCE

Marbas and Buer being silly (tw: romanian)

Rating Avisos nobles on how eadible is their cooking

Lucifer's experience

Asexual hc for whb

Tartaros is Romanian inspired

Mammon x Mc propaganda (Emirate edit)

Jjyu getting burned

Abaddon headcanons

Why Satan hates Asmodeus

Leviathan lost his uncle priveldge

Not now sweaty, mommy's cyberbullying

What social medias do the kings use

Raphael's a gamer

Asmodeus visiting Eater in the human world

Shipper Au

The nobles being wingmen for their kings

Average ship war in the MCxking community

Mc trolling the shipping forums (and getting doxxed in the process)

How the kings would react to seeing the ships about them and MC

Ppyong posting ship art of him and Paimon

Kings reacting to King x Seraph fics written by MC

Shipping tier list

"I owe Bimet so much money"

The Seraphs reacting to King x Seraph fics

Morax being a supportive older brother

Nobles reacting to their ship coming true

Nobles reacting to Mc being in a poly relationship with all the kings

Kings reacting to Mc shipping their nobles with angels (or themselves)

Bimet selling merch

Shippers when Mc x Sitri is trending

Mc that wants a secret relationships due to the shippers

Mc that ships the shippers with their king

Mc x Glasylabolas gone wrong

Artist!Mc drawing ship art of the kings

Lucy Dulap (my Mc)

Introduction

Double standerds

Gabriel's priorities