#emo/scene frames

[bluestiches]

K000l

hey! i was wondering if you had any emo/scemo frames for web decals? ive been trying to look but i cant find anything D:

Emo/Scemo Frames

To answer your question: No I don't... So I made some!

Feel free to use no need to credit

I don't own any of the particular images I just found them online and mashed em together in free online image editor and voila...

They're messy but I think that's part of their old internet esque charm

This was pretty fun to make. feel free to request something specific

[vampirte]

н𝗼𝗿я𝗼𝗿 based⠀⠀＿＿＿＿⠀⠀𝗍ᥙmᑲᥣr ᥙsᥱrs⠀⠀☠︎

⠀⠀hexecult⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ zumbizito

⠀⠀fattalframe⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ noitecruentus

⠀⠀mortemfear⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ residnteevil

⠀⠀ex0rcismo⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ eternohorror

⠀⠀horrorcite⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ghostnblood

[wordpress-blaze-63194361]

When Drag Queens Were King

With the conflicts about LGBTQIA+, it is fascinating to look back at the history of gays in American history. Once, not only accepted but widely celebrated, drag was a prominent face in the entertainment industry.

During the Shakespearean period, in the late 16th century and early 17th century, women were not permitted to perform on the stage. Men played the female roles. While this wasn’t exactly “drag”, it’s possible gay men took advantage of the opportunity to express their feminine sides.

Originally, drag was not only applied to men performing while dressed as women but, any performer dressed in costumes other than their own gender. In fact, the first recorded drag contest and “ball” in America took place in 1867! Men and women performed in Harlem, New York. There were drag queens and drag kings. Notable during the 1880’s and 1890’s was William Dorsey Swann. Known as the Queen of Drag, Dorsey was more than just a drag queen. An African American, born into slavery, was known for holding secret drag balls. The “Queen of Drag”, Swann, is believed to be the first person in the United States to lead a gay resistance. He held secret drag balls in Washington, DC. One part of the drag balls included a competition known as a “cakewalk”, originally held on plantations by slaves. Couples would dance in precise steps and formation. It is believed to have been a way to subtly make fun of the formal white dances pre and post emancipation. As dance contests, the winners were awarded with cakes!

The Jazz Age (from 1920 - early 1930’s) in large cities like New York, Chicago, and San Francisco saw the popularity of drag performers rise. Minstrel shows, vaudeville, and burlesque provided drag entertainment. Unlike many drag performers, Jean (Gene) Malin was not trying to impersonate a woman. During Prohibition, the days of the “pansy craze”, Malin was openly gay and proud of it. Described as flamboyant and effeminate, he entertained audiences with a wonderful sense of humor. At six feet tall and two hundred pounds, Malin had a lisp that delighted his fans. He was capable of defending himself when needed. He performed in high end nightclubs and was featured in films and on Broadway.

In 1920 Drag Balls and contests were so popular they were even represented in film. Men were referred to as “pansies” or “sissies” and were often portrayed as clothing designers or tailors, hairdressers, or choreographers and dancers. Flamboyant and effeminate, they added humor to films. Women were portrayed as more masculine and dressed in male fashions.

There were actors and actresses who were known to be homosexual, if not to the general public, usually within their professional circles. In 1930’s, Marlene Dietrich, who made no secret of her bisexuality, had the first passionate same sex kiss in a film. However, that wasn’t the first same sex kiss in film. In 1922, Cecil B. DeMille directed a silent movie l, “Manslaughter”, that included an orgy. Although the first same sex kiss has been attributed to the later film, “Wings” in 1927, it was the earlier silent movie that broke the mold.

Drag has once again become popular in America with shows like RuPaul’s Drag Race. On the other hand, the country is in turmoil. The Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer/Questioning, Intersex, Asexual+ (LGBTQIA+) community is already beginning to feel the change in the air, from the White House to every house, apartment, mobile home, hotel, or tent. The president has already signed several executive orders that will negatively impact LGBTQIA+ communities across the country. We can’t allow America to return to days of the Hays Code. We’ve too far to allow it to slip away.

Source: When Drag Queens Were King

[coco-coquette]

Pop Hello Kitty Templates

[headfirstfordivision]

Yall really liked the prev goth cover.. haha i have mooorreee

[nek0d0ll]

i feel emptiness and sorrow

[spookypinkghostandco]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　oh vanity, tell me I’m pretty too　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

[wordpress-blaze-63194361]

When Drag Queens Were King

With the conflicts about LGBTQIA+, it is fascinating to look back at the history of gays in American history. Once, not only accepted but widely celebrated, drag was a prominent face in the entertainment industry.

During the Shakespearean period, in the late 16th century and early 17th century, women were not permitted to perform on the stage. Men played the female roles. While this wasn’t exactly “drag”, it’s possible gay men took advantage of the opportunity to express their feminine sides.

Originally, drag was not only applied to men performing while dressed as women but, any performer dressed in costumes other than their own gender. In fact, the first recorded drag contest and “ball” in America took place in 1867! Men and women performed in Harlem, New York. There were drag queens and drag kings. Notable during the 1880’s and 1890’s was William Dorsey Swann. Known as the Queen of Drag, Dorsey was more than just a drag queen. An African American, born into slavery, was known for holding secret drag balls. The “Queen of Drag”, Swann, is believed to be the first person in the United States to lead a gay resistance. He held secret drag balls in Washington, DC. One part of the drag balls included a competition known as a “cakewalk”, originally held on plantations by slaves. Couples would dance in precise steps and formation. It is believed to have been a way to subtly make fun of the formal white dances pre and post emancipation. As dance contests, the winners were awarded with cakes!

The Jazz Age (from 1920 - early 1930’s) in large cities like New York, Chicago, and San Francisco saw the popularity of drag performers rise. Minstrel shows, vaudeville, and burlesque provided drag entertainment. Unlike many drag performers, Jean (Gene) Malin was not trying to impersonate a woman. During Prohibition, the days of the “pansy craze”, Malin was openly gay and proud of it. Described as flamboyant and effeminate, he entertained audiences with a wonderful sense of humor. At six feet tall and two hundred pounds, Malin had a lisp that delighted his fans. He was capable of defending himself when needed. He performed in high end nightclubs and was featured in films and on Broadway.

In 1920 Drag Balls and contests were so popular they were even represented in film. Men were referred to as “pansies” or “sissies” and were often portrayed as clothing designers or tailors, hairdressers, or choreographers and dancers. Flamboyant and effeminate, they added humor to films. Women were portrayed as more masculine and dressed in male fashions.

There were actors and actresses who were known to be homosexual, if not to the general public, usually within their professional circles. In 1930’s, Marlene Dietrich, who made no secret of her bisexuality, had the first passionate same sex kiss in a film. However, that wasn’t the first same sex kiss in film. In 1922, Cecil B. DeMille directed a silent movie l, “Manslaughter”, that included an orgy. Although the first same sex kiss has been attributed to the later film, “Wings” in 1927, it was the earlier silent movie that broke the mold.

Drag has once again become popular in America with shows like RuPaul’s Drag Race. On the other hand, the country is in turmoil. The Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer/Questioning, Intersex, Asexual+ (LGBTQIA+) community is already beginning to feel the change in the air, from the White House to every house, apartment, mobile home, hotel, or tent. The president has already signed several executive orders that will negatively impact LGBTQIA+ communities across the country. We can’t allow America to return to days of the Hays Code. We’ve too far to allow it to slip away.

Source: When Drag Queens Were King

[spudbrainz]

🦎~ In your head!!

Happy Halloween 🎃🦇🦎

[coldinsouvlaki]

[merakidoll]

brainrot! alternative choso with his bimbo girlfriend ( self indulgent duh )

emo boy choso was the adventure you never knew you needed in life. while you had loads of fun prancing around in your smallest clothes, and letting all the boys peek at your pretty goodies, did you actually let any of them touch you ? no.

you found them to be “icky”. dirty nails, nasty looking clothes, and holes in their underwear - ew. but choso was the fun little suprise that you saw one day while walking on campus. his motorcycle so loud that it annoyed you, so you turned to look. his bike was sexy, a pretty jet black that shined against the sun. what was better- him. his helmet coming off and the hot man looking directly at you with a smirk.

he knew he had you in that moment.

“that’s a good girl” choso whispered in your ear, watching you threw his bathroom mirror. your curved frame against his tall muscular one was a sight for sore eyes. you two fitting together like a puzzle piece. his dark leather clothes, rubbing against your bare skin making more tears drip down, dampening your eye lashes. your moans are muffled by the pink thong in your mouth. the taste of your juices hitting your palette, making you drip even more against his slender fingers.

the pornographic scene had you cumming back to back, you were at your third orgasm. only thing keeping you standing is choso; he held onto you tight, taking in the beautiful sight that was you. whispering that most deranged things in your ear bringing back that feeling once more. “that’s my girl” his deep voice made you shudder, the whispers sending tingles down your spine and right to your honey pot that was so so close. “come on” he kissed your chubby cheek, slowing down his fingers to make deep long thrust.

“cum on daddies nails, cum would match the pink so well baby! ” you shut your eyes tight, clenching down onto his fingers. his other hand trailed down your breast, to your stomach, you feeling all of his movements; and it drove you wild. just the thought of the bright pink nail polish, that he let you put on him being the pleasure source made you instantly go dumb. you couldn’t whine out, like you had the other times. squirt shooting out, making a mess, dripping down your legs and getting onto his boots.

[et6rnalsun]

YOU GON’ MAKE ME FALL IN LOVE FOR A WHILE (WOULD YOU FUCK ME?)

is your best friend really your best friend or is it just a way to cover the sexual tension that drowns out your lost common sense? good question.

95% of the time matt wanted to give in to that burning temptation, the other 5% he just did it carelessly.

that five percent had manifested itself on a saturday night filled with boredom and complete dullness, nothing interesting or stimulating enough to completely turn the day around — except for chris animatedly yapping about his umpteenth failed talking stage of the month downstairs. you were lying on matt’s bed while he absentmindedly fixed his hair in the mirror, getting ready to go out after hours of begging him to do so.

on one hand, he was also desperately trying not to look in your direction. christ, you should realize on your own that you were in a position far too provocative for any human with an ounce of hormones. you were lying on your stomach, shirt slightly hiked up to reveal your soft skin, back arched enough to highlight your curves that he drooled over daily. he had to get a grip.

“please, go and try not to wear emo clothes,” you subtly teased, your cheek snugly pressed against the palm of your hand as you turned your body more to watch him get ready. he just rolled his eyes at that, the sassiness of it enough to make you chuckle. “i’m not emo. black jus’ suits me” he turned to meet your gaze just as he was putting on his chain, his head bowed slightly. “plus i thought you liked it?”

you scoffed, but a smirk still tugged at the corners of your mouth. “i do” you shrugged, your eyes trailing down his frame and the way the chain dangled down his neck — making him shiver at the mere gesture. as you watched and talked to him, you noticed his obvious struggle in putting the thing on, probably not being able to latch it. so you stood up, adjusting your shirt that was out of place after laying down in that way, before approaching him.

“you could ask for help” you positioned yourself behind him, raising yourself slightly on tiptoe to latch the chain.

he chuckled lightly at the fact that you immediately sensed his need, and turned to look at you. he tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “alright, thanks,” he trailed, licking his lips. “you read my mind or somethin’?” you felt small under his gaze, and you crossed your arms instinctively, “it was simply a pitiful scene. anyone would’ve understood”

but his hands automatically rested on your arms seconds after your gesture, slowly unwrapping and bringing them up to move around his neck—his rings touching your skin made your stomach knot even tighter.

how the fuck were you supposed to react? you hugged each other often, yes, but this was too intimate to not miss a heartbeat or two. “are you tryin’ to suffocate yourself with my hands?” you tried to joke about it, easing the strange tension that was building between you.

matt was only fueling the tension, though. the fact that his hands had subsequently moved down your waist wasn’t helping; your bodies now close enough to touch, breaths mingling with each other. “you can try,” he replied, breathing a little too heavy as he took in your scent.

you rolled your eyes, trying not to meet his gaze. “looks like you want simple affection to me”

“maybe” but no, he didn’t. his touch felt too urgent to be something as simple as some friendly affection. you felt his hands squeezing your hips a little too tightly, fingertips digging into your skin little by little, desperate to feel you closer. and the heat of his body was strong enough to reveal his true state of mind. “it’s not weird for me to want it”

your arms wrapped around his neck more properly for a hug, letting your fingers sink lazily into his messy hair. “you’re right” you murmured lowly, letting him melt into you. you tried to ignore how his lips then trailed along your jaw to reach your neck, skin exposed by the position of your head, their softness sending little shivers down your spine. he had started leaving wet kisses, actions a little bolder after feeling how you tightened your grip on his locks, enough to make him let out a quiet hum against your throat. the sound made you head spin, your body responding to his touch before your mind could catch up.

"you feel so good," matt sighed, voice husky as his lips grazed your pulse. your own breathing was uneven now, your fingers threading through his hair as you let your head tilt further, offering him more—silent permission. his grip on your waist tightened slightly, and he let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your skin. “is this okay?"

“not really, no” your back was now leaning against the wall of his room, and you felt too much of a prisoner in those actions that seemed simply wrong for someone who had been your bestfriend for so long.

he raised an eyebrow, pulling away from your neck with a small and wet pop—the sound of his mouth letting go of the patch of skin he’d sucked and bit to leave a mark. “no?” he was skeptical, not believing your words. “bet you’re so wet as you say this”

you pressed your legs together. “i’m not gettin’ wet for this little” you challenged subtly, trying to keep your breathy tone hidden. you were pretty sure that your panties were now stained from the desire he had made you feel in just a few minutes, and you could clearly feel it dripping in a sinful, haunting way.

he placed a hand on your leg, slowly running his fingers up to where your shorts ended, moving closer to your inner thigh. “i think i should touch to see if you’re lyin’ or not”

you beat him into the game, placing your hand over the bulge of his pants, the corners of your lips turning up in a smirk as you slowly tightened your grip. “well, you’re so hard” you hummed, watching as his face changed with his lip bitten so hard by his teeth you were sure you’d see blood soon. “so you can’t really talk about me bein’ wet”

“no shit” he breathed out, placing a hand over yours to move it slightly, groaning softly at the sensation. you followed the way he guided your hand, squeezing it ever so slightly as it strained against the fabric of his jeans, begging to come out. he then rested his forehead against your shoulder, moaning against it, moving his hips to feel more.

“you’re not goin’ to cum on me, are you?” you teased.

matt rolled his eyes, both in pleasure and annoyance. “you think i’m that pathetic?”

before you could nod at his words and answer positively to the question, chris's shrill voice reached your ears from downstairs; “move your ass! i’m hungry and i’m not gon wait for you to finish fuckin’”

you pulled away with a giggle, taking advantage of his almost weak state to push him aside and free yourself from the wall he had created with his body that blocked your way. “you heard him” you shrugged as if you were innocent — as if you weren’t leaving him with a dripping boner, a white stain ruining the front of his pants. by the time he turned to react to everything that happened in a matter of seconds, you already disappeared down the stairs.

“fuckfuckfuck” he cursed under his breath, looking down at the mess you made. he was only going to die only after he made you pay for it, he was sure of it.

[pittsick]

CHERRY LIPGLOSS & EMO BOY.

PLAYLIST && BOT RELEASE.

summary: after months of teasing flirtation behind the hot topic counter, you finally gives in to the pull of patrick zweig—scene king, bratty flirt, and walking contradiction. when your stolen moment in the storage room turns heated, patrick takes his time breaking you in with dirty praise, rough fingers, and all the cocky charm he’s been holding back. it’s messy, breathless, and just the beginning of something dangerous.

pairing: scene emo!patrick x sunshine!afab reader.

cw: +18. mdni. 2.5k words. graphic smut. fingering (reader!receiving), protected penetration. soft dom patrick. naive virgin reader. impact play (thighs & cunt slapping), praising. dirty-talk. dumbification. multiple orgasms. dacryphilia. overstimulation. drooling. messy makeout. short oral through panties.

taglist: @blastzachilles @lvve-talks @jordiemeow @strfallz @222col @soulxinxthexsky @diyasgarden @jinxedbambi @lexiiscorect @religionlost @bluestrd @jclolz22 @destinedtobegigi @fwaist @imperishablereverie @lovefaist @shahabaqsa0310 @prismozo @jesuistrestriste @grimsonandclover

You knew it was going to happen eventually. You just didn’t know it would happen in the storage room of a Hot Topic, surrounded by boxes of skull-print socks and anime figurines.

But that’s just what being around Patrick Zweig did to you.

You’d been flirting with him for months. Not in a loud, confident way like the other girls who batted their lashes at him by the band tee wall. Yours was softer—offering him extra buttons when he came to the register, complimenting his chipped black nail polish when he reached for his wallet, pretending not to notice when he lingered by the counter even after his receipt printed.

He’d flirted back, of course. In his own way.

Calling you sweetheart with a twist in his voice that made your stomach flip. Giving you smirks that looked like secrets. Letting his fingers brush yours when he passed you his phone to scan his rewards.

You were opposites in every way. Where you wore soft colors and lip gloss that smelled like strawberries, Patrick wore black mesh and enough eyeliner to drown in. Your aesthetic was all pastel sweaters and fuzzy clips. His was a walking Hot Topic clearance rack from 2006—chains, skinny jeans, shredded sleeves, and that ever-present smirk behind a lip ring piercing.

And somehow, it worked.

You’d built something in those months. A tension. A pull. You didn’t know exactly what he saw in you, but you’d catch him staring sometimes, like he was trying to figure out how someone like you had ended up working in a place like this.

He never pushed. Just waited. Until tonight.

The mall was nearly empty. You were checking the accessories stocks in the back when you heard the familiar squeak of the front gate rolling up. Your manager had left an hour ago, and your shift was officially over—but you were dragging your feet. Yet, all you wanted was to see Patrick again.

Speak of the devil.

“Hey, pastel princess,” came that drawl behind you—soft, amused, cocky. The nickname he gave you as teasing.

You turned, heart jumping. “Patrick. You’re not supposed to be here.”

He was standing in the doorway of the back room, framed by the flickering overhead light. His shirt was ripped in three places, layered over a fishnet long-sleeve. Chains swung from his hips. His black bangs fell messily across his eyes, framing that smug little half-smile like a picture in a cracked frame.

“You said to stop by after close.” He shrugged, playing with the chains of his jeans.

“I meant like… out front. Not in the storage closet.”

He stepped inside anyway. “You’re the one who left the back door propped open.” He teased again, smirking like he so knew how to do.

You flushed, hugging a folded tee to your chest. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.” He reached you in three slow steps. “Been thinking about coming all day.”

You stared at him, lips parting slightly. His voice was low, almost lazy—but there was heat behind it. Real heat. The kind you’d only heard in whispered fantasies at night when your room was dark and your fingers drifted beneath your sheets. Like the air had shifted and you knew exactly was going to happen; something you both had thought about before but never acted upon.

Your eyes fell to his lips, red flushing your cheeks with the ideas running through your mind. Of what was going to happen.

“Patrick…” Your voice was smaller than you meant it to be.

His eyes dropped to your lips. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” you said quickly, almost breathless. “I just—I’ve never…” It was embarrassing to say. Something flickered across his face. Not surprise. Something gentler.

His fingers brushed your cheek. “That’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”

And just like that, the air in the room changed.

Patrick kissed you like he’d been dreaming about it for weeks. Like he’d been holding back every time you smiled at him from behind the register or blushed when he called you baby.

He kissed with his whole mouth—open, messy, tongue dragging against yours with hungry precision. The cool touch of his lip ring made you whimper, and he swallowed it eagerly, gripping your waist like he couldn’t believe you were finally in his hands.

“God, you taste so fucking sweet,” he muttered, kissing down your jaw, your neck. “Knew you’d be like candy. Even look like one.”

You gripped the hem of his shirt, your fingers slipping beneath the holes in the fabric. You could feel the hard lines of his stomach under the fishnet. Every little sound he made vibrated through you.

“Tell me if I’m going too fast,” he murmured, tugging your cardigan off your shoulders.

“No,” you said quickly. “Please don’t stop.”

That grin came back—dark and dangerous. He backed you into a stack of folded hoodie boxes, hands roaming your body with a worshipful kind of greed. When his fingers reached the hem of your skirt, he paused.

“You’re really letting me ruin this cute little outfit?” he asked, cocking a brow. “This baby pink, virgin-girl aesthetic?” His way of asking if you were sure of what you were doing.

You squirmed, nodding. “It’s yours.”

That broke him.

Patrick dropped to his knees like it was instinct, hands already sliding up your thighs beneath your pastel skirt. He moved with the kind of focus that made your breath hitch—the kind of hunger you’d only imagined in late-night fantasies again, but even your dirtiest thoughts hadn’t gone this far. That made your breath hitch.

“Fuck, you’re soft everywhere,” he murmured, pushing your skirt up with both hands. “Bet you’re soaked, huh? All that sweet little smiling and pretending—you’ve been aching for this.”

You nodded helplessly, your fingers curling in the fabric of your skin to pull it up some more as he nosed against your inner thigh. The tip of his nose smelling your skin as if it was the last thing he’d ever smell in his life.

He hooked a finger under your cotton panties—white, simple, with a delicate little bow at the waist that now looked obscene between your thighs—and dragged them down slowly, his lip ring brushing your skin as he went. When he got them off, he brought them to his face and breathed in. The disgusting pervert.

“You don’t even know what you’re doing to me,” he groaned. “You smell like fucking heaven.”

You could barely breathe. Your legs were shaking.

Then his mouth was on you—hot, wet, and absolutely filthy.

He started slow, tongue dragging flat from your dripping hole to your clit, letting out a low hum like he was tasting frosting straight from the bowl. But then he got mean with it. Sloppier. He licked and sucked and groaned into your pussy like he’d been starving for it. When his lips wrapped around your clit and sucked just hard enough to make your hips jump, you whimpered.

“Patrick—”

“Yeah, baby?” he said between licks, his voice rough and amused. “That feel good?”

You nodded rapidly, breath catching when he licked right against your entrance and pushed two fingers in at once—slowly, but firmly. They filled you more than you expected, the stretch hot and satisfying. He moved them in slow curls, tongue flicking over your clit in time.

“Shit—tightest little cunt I’ve ever felt,” he grunted, thrusting his fingers a little deeper. “You been keeping this sweet pussy all to yourself?” You cried out softly, overwhelmed already, and he laughed—low and cruel and adoring all at once.

“Look at you,” he cooed, licking a stripe up to your clit and slapping your inner thigh hard enough to make your breath catch. “You love it. Getting your virgin cunt eaten in a dirty storage room.”

He rubbed your clit harder with his tongue, letting spit drip down his chin. His fingers never stopped, stretching you open, curling just right inside you, brushing that special spot that left you breathless. “You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” he asked, voice vibrating against your pussy. “You gonna soak my fingers like a good girl?”

You were panting now, shaking, but not quite there—everything was building slowly, pressure mounting.

“Feels good—so good—just don’t stop,” you gasped.

“Oh, I’m not stopping,” he promised. “I’m gonna make you fall apart so fucking hard you forget your own name.”

He slapped your pussy lightly then—not hard, but sharp—just enough to jolt you. You moaned at the sensation, your slick making an audible mess between his fingers.

“You like that? You like getting your pussy slapped, you filthy girl?”

You whimpered, hips twitching. He slapped again—just once more, and returned to rubbing your clit with his spit-slick thumb while he fucked you with his fingers, deeper and faster now.

“I’m close—Patrick—oh god—”

“Say my name when you come. Let me hear who’s making this sweet thing cry.”

And when you finally tipped over the edge, it wasn’t a dainty little climax—it was devastating. Your whole body seized, thighs clamping around his head, your slick gushing around his fingers as your voice cracked on his name. You were moaning and drooling and trembling in his grip, and he loved every second of it.

“That’s it,” he groaned, still fingering you through the aftershocks. “Fucking ruined.” When he pulled his fingers out, they glistened with your slick. He licked them clean, watching you the whole time.

“Still with me, baby?” he asked, tugging his belt loose with one hand.

You nodded, dazed. “Yeah…” He leaned in and kissed you—wet, messy, you could taste your own sweetness in his mouth. You moaned into it. “Good,” he murmured. “’Cause I’m not done with you yet.”

Patrick tugged a condom from his back pocket—ripped it open with his teeth, like he was showing off just how ready he’d been for this. You watched him shove his jeans and boxers down just enough to free himself, your breath catching at the sight of him hard and flushed and heavy in his hand. Tip leaking pre-cum, veins running along the length of him.

He stroked himself slowly, eyes locked on you as he rolled the condom on. “Still wanna keep going, baby?”

You nodded, wide-eyed. You were flushed, fucked-out from his mouth and fingers, but aching for more. Your thighs were trembling where they hung open, but he didn’t hesitate—he stepped in close, grabbed your hips, and tugged you forward on the stacked inventory box like he owned you.

“This your first time, right?” he asked, voice a little gentler now under the gravel.

“Yeah…”

“Okay,” he said, brushing your hair out of your face. “I’ll go slow—at first. I’ll take care of you, baby.”

He lined himself up, rubbing his tip through the slick mess he’d already made of you. You gasped, your whole body twitching when he tapped against your overstimulated clit. Then he gripped the back of your thighs and tilted your hips just right before starting to press in.

It burned a little—he was thick, stretching you open in ways nothing had before—but it was good. So, so good. Patrick hissed through his teeth, jaw clenching. “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re tight.”

He rocked forward slowly, giving you time, but every inch felt like fire—like he was imprinting himself on your body. You whimpered, head falling back as your hands fisted in his shirt.

“That’s it,” he murmured, leaning close to kiss the side of your throat. “You’re taking me so well. Just like I knew you would, sunshine.”

When he was finally seated fully inside you, he didn’t move right away. He just held you there, hips snug against yours, letting you adjust. “Breathe for me, sweet girl. I got you.”

You listened to him, taking deep and full breath, and nodded your head at him. At that, Patrick started to move his hips.

Slow at first—just gentle pulls and pushes, his hands steady on your waist; but every thrust made a wet slap echo in the quiet storage room. His pace started to build, pulling moans from your lips you didn’t even know you could make.

“You like getting fucked like this?” he panted. “On a fucking cardboard box, dripping all over me, stuffed full for the first time?”

“Yes—oh God—yes—”

“Bet you never thought your first time’d be with some scene boy in eyeliner fucking the brains out of you behind a wall of Nightmare Before Christmas backpacks, huh?” He joked, lightening the mood.

You whimpered, though. Your head was fuzzy, your body too hot. Every time he snapped his hips forward, the stretch burned so good, your eyes rolled back.

“Too much?” he asked, even as his pace deepened.

“No,” you gasped. “Just—just more—please—”

That made him grin, wicked and warm. “Knew you were a needy little thing. All that pastel bullshit’s just a cover. You were made to be ruined by me, sunshine.”

He grabbed your face, tilted it up, and kissed you deep—filthy and hot, all tongue and teeth. You moaned into his mouth, your spit slicking both your chins. When he pulled back, there was drool connecting your lips, and he groaned like it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

“Fucking dripping for me,” he growled, pulling out halfway just to slam back in. You gasped. Then he slapped your thigh—hard—and your pussy clenched around him so tight he nearly lost it.

“Oh, you liked that? You liked getting spanked like a dumb little baby?” You whined, eyes glazed. “Say it.”

“I—I liked it—”

“Say you’re a dumb little girl who needs my cock to think straight.”

You hiccuped a moan, eyebrows furrowing as you didn’t even think twice before replying to him. “I’m a dumb little girl—I need your cock, Patrick—please—”

“God, you’re fucking perfect,” he growled. “Gonna make you come again. Gonna fuck you through it until you’re crying.”

And then his hand was between your legs again, rubbing circles over your clit while he pounded into you just rough enough to rattle the boxes beneath you. His other hand snaked behind your neck, pulling you into another kiss—sloppy and messy and full of whimpering breath.

The pressure built again—slower this time, but hotter, deeper. Every thrust was angled just right, every filthy word spilling from his mouth sinking into your skin like tattoos.

“You’re gonna come, baby. I can feel it. This sweet little cunt’s choking me—gonna soak me again, aren’t you?”

“Yes—yes—I’m gonna—”

“You gonna drool all over me while I fuck the thoughts out of your head?” You were drooling. You felt it on your chin, warm and sticky and completely unbothered as your body started to spiral.

“That’s it. Come for me. Let go. Show me how dumb you get for my cock.”

And you did.

It hit like a wave—sharp, all-consuming. Your walls clamped down around him, your mouth opened in a silent scream, and tears spilled from your eyes as your thighs trembled violently. Patrick groaned, hips stuttering, and you felt the sudden jerk of his climax too as he came inside the condom, fingers bruising your hips.

He stayed there for a moment, both of you panting and fucked-out and soaked with sweat and slick and drool. Then Patrick leaned in, brushed the hair from your damp forehead, and kissed your cheek.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “You okay, sunshine?”

You nodded, blinking at him with glassy eyes. “Yeah… I think so.”

He pulled out slowly, wincing at the sensitivity, and tied off the condom before tossing it into the trash can by the wall. Then he grabbed a random Sleeping With Sirens hoodie from a shelf and tucked it around you, gently wiping the spit and sweat from your face with the sleeve.

“You did so good, baby,” he murmured, praising you. “First time and you took it like a fucking dream.”

Your thighs were still twitching. You leaned into his chest, letting his arms fold around you, his breath warm against your hair.

“Still wanna go on that date next week?” you mumbled sleepily, too comfortable to move.

He laughed—soft and real. “Oh, sweetheart. After this? I’m never letting you out of my sight again.” He kissed your forehead and you felt the cold metal of his lip ring piercing on your sweaty skin. “Want me to get you home now?”

And you only nodded at him.

[st0rmyskies]

What Your Favorite Link Says About You

A.k.a. The Links as tarot cards/your rising sign/your blood type.

Time

You're likely an older Zelda fan. Ibuprofen has become a food group for you. Anyone who thinks OoT isn't the greatest Zelda game has you clutching your pearls and tutting. Kids these days don't know how good they have it.

You are a person to whom young people come for advice, either in your career or in life in general. You're happy to give it, especially because you love to help, but on the inside you're silently screaming, What?? Why me???

You may have trouble sleeping through the night. Even if it's not every night, there are some where you just can't turn your brain off and worries or worst-case scenarios just keep playing and replaying ad nauseaum.

You enjoy time in solitude to appreciate the beauty of nature. I bet you know how to braid a mean daisy crown.

“The flow of time is always cruel...” - Some event in your life took your innocence from you, perhaps much too early. You grew up quickly because of it.

Legend

Either you had a crush on the emo kid in high school or you were the emo kid in high school.

You might be jaded by the world, but you still have a solid work ethic and a soft heart despite it all. Even if you hide it all beneath a healthy layer of sass.

You possess a multitude of skills, not all of which are related. Anytime a friend needs a piece of clothing mended or a picture frame hung on the wall or a leak in a faucet addressed, you have the tools and the willingness to help.

Either you have a history of moving frequently when you were young, or you have a restless spirit. You may never quite feel 'at home' in any given place.

"But, verily, it be the nature of dreams to end." - You’ve suffered a meaningful loss in your life and you have a hard time opening up again because of it. 

Hyrule

You root for the underdog, or perhaps you are the underdog. Any of those "against all odds" stories just hit you square in the chest.

Somewhat quiet by nature, you do vital work behind the scenes but you aren't the type to seek out a leadership position. Leave the limelight to somebody else, please.

You might sell yourself short when it comes to your skills and abilities, but you should believe in yourself, man! You can do it!!

You have a capricious streak in you that rears its head now and again. That smile can look sharp and devilish in the right light.

"It's dangerous to go alone!" - You either already have or are destined to find 'that one person' with whom you can open up and truly be yourself. 

Twilight

I'm willing to put money on the fact that Twilight Princess was your first Zelda game.

You have a strong sense of justice and get really bent out of shape when you encounter unfairness or flaw in the system, whatever that may be. You might be considered an outsider in some way because of this.

You're the friend who scoops spiders up in a cup and sets them outside. Live and let live.

You were the 'wolf kid' in middle school. Come on, those amazing tie dye shirts? Wolf Woman? Julie of the Wolves?? Even if you kept it inside, it was there in some way.

"Your current power would disgrace the proud green of the hero's tunic you wear." - You put a lot of stock in the opinions of others and hold yourself to a higher standard because of it. Sometimes that standard isn't achievable, though, so try to be kind to yourself. 

Sky

You, my friend, have a soft heart. You're generally a happy-go-lucky sort of person. You're likely to make excuses for those who've been mean to you in the past and come out as friends on the other side.

You're crafty, or at the very least good with your hands. You're the type to give someone a handmade gift rather than go buy something for them for their birthday, a holiday, etc.

You have a strong affinity for your friends. If anything bad were to happen to them, you'd turn violent at the drop of a hat.

You may have some level of chronic illness that affects you. Although you might do things in a different way or at your own pace, though, you still come out on top.

"You fight like no man or demon I have ever known." - You have the capability for great things. World-changing sorts of things. Don't give up!

Wild

You're some flavor of neurodivergent, if I had to guess I'd say ADHD. You have 42 tabs open in your brain at any given time and you have no idea which one the music is coming from.

You're an incredibly creative person, although you might have trouble finishing tasks/works-in-progress. Doesn't mean you didn't learn something along the way!

Rigid guidelines or deadlines stress you out. You'd rather be given a goal and decide for yourself when and how to get there. When you do have a deadline, you're a bit of a procrastinator.

Sometimes you don’t get the 'right' way to do things, but you carve your own path--although sometimes it's unorthodox--and get there in your own time.

"Courage need not be remembered, for it is never forgotten." - In spite of how your life changes you, for better or for worse, you have a driving inspiration or ethic or vocation that moves you forward at all costs.

Warriors

Those who don't know you well tend to boil you down to one or two trite traits. In reality, you contain multitudes. Most people couldn't handle all of you, not that they deserve to know even part of you.

You tend to lay it on thick--be that your charm, attitude, or whatever else your social shield might be--because you're hiding some deeper secret or insecurity at your core.

You're the mom friend or the planner in your group, or perhaps you're the oldest child. You’ll pass on an authority role if and when you can, but likely you’re still involved in some supervisory capacity in a given situation. 

You kill spiders with fire. Show NO mercy.

"You dare raise the blade of evil's bane to me? So be it. Hyrule's blood will be on your hands." - You have strong convictions and you aren't afraid to take risks, major risks, to do what you know to be right.

Four

Babe, if you ain't short, you've got short person energy. You scare me a little bit tbh.

You were praised for not being a problem child growing up, or for being very responsible at a young age.

You have a vivid imagination! You may have had an imaginary friend as a child or lived in your own little world altogether. I bet your notebook pages were strewn with little doodles in school.

You're a lover of information. If you could choose between an afternoon at the library or a movie matinee, it would be the former.

"Hanging around with you fools is dangerous for my health." - You're the snark friend, aren't you.  

Wind

You are extroverted to a fault. You need the company of others to recharge that social battery. The quintessential golden retriever friend.

You had active involvement in the music and theatre department. I'd be surprised if you weren't in at least one show in high school.

Having adventures is where it's at! You're a big fan of travel, either cross-country road trips or international flights. You could happily live out of a suitcase.

You tend to make friends easily wherever you go. If everyone in this classroom/workplace/bar doesn't know your name already, they will pretty quick.

"I have been waiting for you, boy... Do not betray my expectations.” - Against all odds, you've proven yourself to be worthy of great things. Screw what fate has in store! You're the type to take your own destiny by the 'nads.

[oldwritingm]

Creepypasta/MH - Walking With Them

Characters: Clockwork, Nina the Killer, Jeff the Killer, Eyeless Jack, Tim/Masky

Clockwork

She walks pretty slowly

She likes to take her time when walking

Not because she’s admiring her surroundings, no; those don’t really interest her

She’s actually lost in her own thoughts

She’ll be staring at the sky, one hand holding her other wrist behind her, walking languidly, smiling subtly when she thinks of something that pleases her

So if you like quiet, slow, scenic walks, she’s your gal

If you do try to make conversation, she’ll indulge you

She won’t pick up the pace though; now she’s walking slow to prolong the conversation

She likes to think through her answers, only voicing things that she’s chewed on thoroughly before speaking

I like to think that she’s a deep conversationalist like that

Of course, if you want to talk about something more lighthearted, she’s still game

But if you ask her to walk faster, that’s when she’ll shoot you a judging look

She’ll ask why, and if you have a good reason she will pick up the pace

Otherwise she’ll just be like “no” and proceed as if you’d never even asked

Nina the Killer

She is holding your hand. Or your arm. Or even just the hem of your shirt. Period.

Doesn’t matter if you’re just friends or dating, she likes to get touchy with people she likes

It’s just her way of feeling close to you

She’ll cling especially close if it’s cold out

She’ll probably chat idly as you guys walk, unless she’s listening to music

She always offers you an earbud when she does

You can expect 2000s pop, scene, and emo music

She’ll bob her head to the beat sometimes, and her smile will double if you join her

Whether you’re listening to music or not, she has a tendency to let her eyes wander while she walks

If she sees anything that catches her eye, she’ll point it out to you

Sometimes it’s someone’s haircut or outfit, sometimes it’s a squirrel, sometimes it’s a random pebble on the sidewalk… it could be anything

Plain old walking is so boring, she’s just trying to make it more interesting for herself

That being said, she doesn’t really try to walk quickly or anything

She’s usually able to entertain herself enough that she doesn’t feel the need to

But if you’re in a hurry she’ll keep up with whatever pace you set

Otherwise she prefers an average pace

Jeff the Killer

He’s either running or speed walking. No in between

He’s efficient like that; if he has somewhere to be, he’s not wasting time commuting

Murdering people has contributed to this habit

If you can’t keep up, he’ll grab your hand and drag you

Once you get too tired to run any more he just tells you how slow you are

Depending on the situation, he might just abandon you

He probably won’t if you’re close, but again, it really depends

If you ask him to stay with you he will, though he’ll grumble the whole time

Sometimes he does like a little scenic walk

This would be the only time that he deliberately walks “slow”

He’s naturally a fast walker, that’s why I’d say “slow” with heavy air quotes

This is also the only time that he won’t mind going a little slower for you

If you’re joining him on the walk, it’s because he wants you to, and he’s not going to leave you behind

You guys will probably link arms or hold hands, just to make sure you walk at the same speed, of course

Eyeless Jack

Another fast walker

He has long legs, plus he’s often in situations which he needs to get away quick

Unlike Jeff, if you can’t keep up, he’ll offer to give you a piggy back

He’s strong like that 💪 (despite his lanky frame)

Also unlike Jeff, he doesn’t really like scenic walks

He might go with you if you ask him, but he wouldn’t choose to go on his own

Being out in the open just feels risky to him, no matter how remote he is

He’d much rather stick to the indoors, or staying in one spot to hide

This ties back into his fast walking pace

If he needs to get somewhere, he’s getting there ASAP

And if he needs to carry you to keep you with him, so be it

He’s not abandoning you; he really prefers to know where you are

Especially when you’re supposed to be with him

Tim/Masky

Honestly pretty chill when it comes to walking

Unless you have somewhere to be, he’s fine matching your pace

He does have a tendency to get a little out of breath though, so he can’t keep up for very long if you’re running/jogging

Also, he doesn’t really like to be touching

Might talk, might not, depends on his mood

If he’s not feeling talkative, he’ll listen to you rant

He’ll give little signs that he’s listening, but won’t offer much in terms of lengthy responses

If neither of you want to talk, he’s also cool sharing music

He likes your playlist(s), and is weirdly cagey about his own

It’s not that he’s embarrassed about his music taste, he just doesn’t like to share

He also likes to walk in silence though

Especially if you’re somewhere nice and scenic

He’ll be looking around, a rare peaceful expression on his face

He might even try to grab your hand or lock your pinkies

As a walking enjoyer, this brought me great joy to compose :) hope y’all enjoyed it!! Take care honey bunches <33

[cha0s-boyy]

new ponysona! might tweak the design a bit still but i'm pretty happy with this :3 also he's unnamed feel free to give suggestions :3

[ID: a digital drawing of a smiling MLP unicorn in profile, with the legs out-of-frame. he has a black coat, red eyes, and a mostly hot pink mane and tail, cut in a long spiky scene/emo style. his fringe is striped blond and black. his cutie mark is a notepad with red drips coming from it, with a heart with a spike through it drawn on the top page. /end ID]

[alicenchanted]

Wallflower

Punk!Sam x Fem!Reader

Summary: After his concert in Zuzu city, Sam sneaks the reader into his bedroom. Feelings and baggage come out as Sam struggles to explain why he's been pushing the reader away, but they make up pretty quickly ;)

Word Count: 3048 words

Content: This is my take on arguably the best 10 heart scene (though I am usually an elliott gal) I like my porn to have some emotion but don't worry ya'll they are up against the wall by the end. Sam can be sexy and punk and awkward about his emotions!! Reader is also implied like soft sweet vibes.

Warnings: swiss army knife used but not in a threatening way, shouldn't bother anyone but just in case!! It's like two sentences

Read on Ao3

“Quit pushing!”

“Well hurry up then… don’t want Emily gossiping if she sees you,” Sam muttered, his hands bracing your hips. He glanced to the front entrance, making sure you weren’t within the stupid doorbell camera’s line of sight. Kent took home security very seriously.

Sam’s rough hands gripped the tops of your thighs, pushing you up and over his windowsill. You could feel each of his silver ringed fingers squeezing the skin. It was on purpose of course, he’d take any opportunity to touch you. “Don’t you do any work on that farm? I thought you’d be stronger.” His voice was teasingly annoyed, prompting you to turn your head and glare. 

“Sorry, I’m not used to breaking into houses,” you snapped.

“It’s technically not breaking in, I do live here.” He threw himself in behind you, landing with a practiced ease. The lime green carpet beneath the window was noticeably dirty, sprinkled with flecks of mud he had done a half-ass job cleaning up. You knew Sam liked to go out in the rain, mostly with Seb and Abby. He had never invited you. It stung a little. 

“I wouldn’t have worn this if I knew that you were planning on taking the window in,” you huffed, gesturing to the black, flowy sundress you wore. You were glad you had gone to his concert, Sam was truly gifted at the guitar, but wow did you misread the room. Punks, goths, emos… how could anyone tell the difference? You thought the black would be enough but you were sorely mistaken. Sundresses were not within any of those subgenres. Sam’s eyes roamed greedily over your figure, but he noticed the stiffness in your shoulders that screamed insecurity. 

“C’mere princess,” he cooed, hand cupping your jaw with a gentleness he only reserved for you, “you looked beautiful- look beautiful, even now. Even with that hole.” His hand slid to your ass, rubbing at a spot on the skirt of your dress. It must have caught on a nail on the way in. His hands were warm and rough, his fingers calloused by years of skimming them across the metal strings of his guitar, and you could feel every glide. He grinned wickedly as he brushed agains the elastic of the panties you had worn, his hands climbing beneath the flowy linen of your dress to push the fabric up. 

“Sam!” you smacked his hand away. “Not yet, tell me why we’re sneaking around. Why can't I see your mom? I brought her that eggplant parm the other day and I want to know if she liked it.”

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Jeez, does it really matter? Just come over tomorrow and I’m sure she’ll tell you all about it.” He rolled his eyes, impatiently tugging you closer by the hips. 

He had been acting strange lately, distant in a way he wasn’t before. Just a few weeks ago he was inviting you to try playing Solarion Chronicles, to go skateboarding by the river with him. You still remembered the warmth of his hands as he held you on the board, laughing and whisking you up when you failed a simple ollie. “Yeah, it does matter,” you said. “Why have you been so… I don’t even know… so weird?”  

He tugged you closer, making a frustrated noise as your back hit the wall with a stern pressure. Even as his grip allowed you no wiggle room, his hand slid up to cup the back of your head, making sure you didn’t bump it against his window frame. “You talk too much- just kiss me already.”

His lips slanted against yours, his tongue brushing against the soft pink flesh urgently. You felt the cool metal of his lip ring against your mouth, but you didn’t give in to the urge to tug on it. Instead, you gripped his shoulders and pushed them back just a little. “Wait Sam. We need to talk about this. I don’t understand what’s going on with you.”

He didn’t say anything, his jaw tensing as he slid his face into the warm space of your neck, leaving a few soft kisses above the spaghetti strap on your shoulder. The feeling of his teeth snapping it made you shiver as he murmured, “We can talk about it another time, babe.”

He sounded dismissive, but his shoulders had slumped slightly, as if that facade of careless, eager hunger had slipped. “Sam,” you mumbled, trying to look him in the eye, but he only pushed his face further into your neck. The heat of his cheeks, growing warmer with a shameful blush, seared you as he sighed. 

He pulled back, but his eyes were trained deliberately on the ceiling. “Look I know how to fuck women and- No, shhh, wait-” He stumbled over his words as he took in the bewildered look on your face, “Just- just let me finish.”

He took another breath as you nodded, his hand fidgeting with the thin metal bar in his eyebrow. It was a nervous tick you recognized. “I meant,” he paused, “I know like- how this part goes. The sleeping around thing. And- and I know how to be friends with girls, obviously. Abby and I get along I think. I just don’t know how to do this part.” His hand gestured back and forth between you two.

“I’m not sure I understand…”

He sucked on his lip, taking another tight breath as he tried to rearticulate. “Like, you and me. I don’t want you to be like Abby and I don’t want you to be like- I don’t know. You know what I’m saying.” 

An awkward laugh escaped your lips, “Not really…”

He turned even redder, trying to step back, but you grabbed the collar of his jacket, pulling him close again. “Stop that, Sam. I’m not- I’m not mad at you, I just want to understand. You like me… right?”

“God yes,” he breathed, his brows shifting into a confused, desperate furrow.

“Why don’t you want to be seen with me?” A sharp pain twisted in your stomach as you asked. That was the question now, wasn’t it? That thing that had been bugging you about his behavior. He was embarrassed of you. You were a fucking farmer. His friends, they were cool. They played music and games and went drinking on weekends. You stayed in to knit and make homemade jams.

His face broke a little as you asked, pulling you close, “No no no, see? I knew I’d fuck this up-” When you didn’t answer, he started again. “I’m afraid. I want you to like my friends, I want to bring you places, I want you to be friends with my mom, heck- I want Vincent to love you, too.” He blew out a long breath, finally looking at you once again as he leaned his forehead against yours, stooping down to even out your heights. “I don’t know how to do any of that.”

You quirked a brow in confusion, but kept your tone gentle, “Well, Sam, isn’t that my responsibility? If your mom and your friends didn’t like me it wouldn’t be your fault…”

“No,” he said quickly, seeing the creeping nerves in your expression, “They do. They do like you. They- They even ask me why you don’t come around more often but I just- I’m afraid. I’ve never had a real girlfriend before. Never anything longer than a month or two. I don’t want it to be like that with you.”

You opened your mouth to reassure him but he kept going, the words pouring out now. “I really really like you. Really like you. Every time I’ve felt like things were getting serious with someone it’s all gone to shit and yeah- sometimes it was my fault.  I don’t want to think about letting you down, or- or what could happen if we’re official and everyone I love loves you and then it goes bad again. You’ll be alone. I’ll be alone.”

It was… a tough thing to think about. Something in you revolted at his words, did he really have such little faith in your relationship? But you knew that wasn’t it. You had your own baggage, this was his. It was too soon to trick yourself into thinking things would work out perfectly, sunshine and rainbows. You brushed a lock of damp, blond hair from his face. It was still warm, sweaty after their concert and the sweltering bus ride home. You brushed the patches on his jacket, smoothing the threads down. Weren’t these the things that mattered, at least right now?

“One day at a time, Sam. We’ll figure it out.”

“What do you mean?” He asked warily. There was a soft, barely there tremor. Clearly, he believed this was where it ended, where you decided he didn’t know what he wanted and still lived in his parents house and still dreamed of music like a child, and didn’t know how to cook or clean or anything useful-

“I mean… I like you. Do you like me?”

“Yes,” he answered again. There was no hesitation in his eyes, but there was confusion. “I do”

“Well if I like you and you really really like me… then it doesn’t matter what the future holds.” He didn’t look so convinced.

“We don’t need to get married tomorrow, Sam,” You gave a soft laugh, hoping to ease the tension. “I want to start slow, I want to get to know your friends and family before I start flaunting you.” 

He smiled a little at your tease. “I think I should be the one flaunting you around. You deserve so much better than me.” His lips brushed your forehead.

“There’s nothing wrong with slowing things down.” Your fingers crept into his hair, slipping through the longer bits at the back of his neck. He purred as he felt the tips of your nails scratch lightly. It was his sweet spot.

“Don’t do that to me…” He groaned softly, his eyes shutting as he tipped his head back, exposing his neck. You pressed a kiss to his adam’s apple, making him groan again as he finally looked at you. “Slowing things down… seems like your actions don’t match your words.” Though his words were chiding, he didn’t seem to be upset by your touch in the slightest. His pupils were quickly growing wide, hungry.

“Sorry… you’re right I shouldn’t have,” you went to pull back, but his hands flew to your hips, walking you back against the wall. 

He guided your hands back into your hair, whispering the word please into your ear. You bit your lip and tugged a little, earning a low moan from him. “You deserve better, better than being fucked up against a wall…” he said as his big hands slid to the back of your thighs yet again that night. He lifted you easily, slotting his hips neatly against yours. “But I’m gonna do it anyway if you don’t tell me to stop.”

His brown eyes were dark, but still held so much warmth. He would stop if you told him to, would set you down, walk you home even. But how could you ask him to stop now? 

“Don’t stop.” You tugged again on his jacket, attempting to pull it off in a way that was sexy rather than desperate, and he laughed. He slid it off and threw it to the ground, leaving himself in that ripped tank that showed off the toned muscles in his arms. 

He growled playfully as he saw you looking him over, “I can’t believe I ever thought you were just a sweet little thing…” His hands slid under your dress, hiking the skirt up around your waist. “I’ve been excited for these,” he brushed his fingers against the swath of black fabric at your core. He grinned at your confusion,  “I saw them earlier when you climbed through the window.” 

“Sam! You were looking?” You huffed, but he only answered with a cocky smirk. “Ugh…I hate you.”

“Yeah, right, princess.” He brushed his nose against yours in a mocking kiss. “You already told me how much you like me.” His voice pitched up into a teasing mockery of your own as he continued, “Oh, Sam, I wanna flaunt you around and- and we can take things slowly and fall in love…”  He stretched out the word love, and you hissed indignantly. Those words had been for his benefit, not your own! “Besides,” his gaze turned feral as he thumbed the slick spot forming on your lace, “it certainly doesn’t feel like you hate me.”

The look of startled shock and the grumpy glare you gave him made him chuckle. The sound was low and sexy, but he kissed away your pouty lip with eyes full of unbearable affection. You couldn’t help yourself from kissing back. His lips grew more desperate the longer you kissed, and soon you gave in to that nagging urge. The metal of his lip ring was cool and satisfying as you tugged it between your own lips. In answer, he shoved his hips against the center of you, letting you feel the bulge growing there. His skinny jeans were too tight to hide his arousal, but he didn’t seem embarrassed in the least.

“It’s way past my bedtime,” you huffed, “I should leave you here.” He didn’t respond, only humming softly against your mouth as he began to grind into you. His clothed cock rubbed against your panties, and he grunted, bunching the skirt of your sundress higher.

“No way,” he shook his head, propping you against the wall with his knee as he fumbled with his zipper, “Not when you’ve got me all fucking hard now.” The button of his jeans popped and he slid the zipper down to free himself. Warmth leaked into your sides, your hips, everywhere as his hands returned to you. “This is your fault, telling me you wanna go slow, “he paused, grinding unashamed against your slick panties, “and then pulling my hair- looking all cute like that.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered. His hand found yours and he shoved it into his pants, making you cup the hard length of him. 

“Go on,” he encouraged, cupping your face tenderly despite the filthy words coming from his lips, “Touch it. You made me hard, now fix it.” Your hand slid into his boxers, gripping him around the base. His dick was heavy and thick, the skin velvety and warm. “Shit… you’re so gentle with me, princess. I can hardly stand it-” His voice broke on a groan when you started stroking, pulling him out of his pants.

He stuffed his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small swiss army knife. Kent was very into safety, apparently. Cool metal brushed against your pussy and you held completely still. The blade slid clean through the lace of the panties, leaving you bare as he cut it away. You whimpered softly and he grinned, “What, you like that? Maybe next time we play I’ll show you more.” He carefully put the blade away, squeezing your ass. “Keep stroking, babe.”

He chuckled at the soft moan that fell from your lips, shifting your hips so that you were comfortably lined up with his cock. “Now put it in,” he murmured in your ear, kissing and nipping at the soft skin to make you shiver. Your hand held him, carefully pressing his tip against the soft, slick folds of your pussy with a little whine. The thick head of his cock pushed forward, slipping into your untouched entrance. “Good girl, you take me so easily… I didn’t even have to lift a finger.” He held your hips in place against the wall as he leaned forward, slowly sinking into your cunt until he bottomed out. 

“Sam…” His thrusts were achingly slow, pulling out nearly to the tip before slipping back in an inch at a time. You grabbed at his strong arms, currently holding you aloft by your ass and up against the warm brick, at his thin ripped t-shirt, at the silver chains dangling from his throat. 

He rumbled a laugh as he thrusted hard, earning a squeak from your startled lips. “So needy, baby. Don’t you trust me to give you what you need?”

“No, I-” you grumbled, but he cut you off with another hard thrust. He propped up your hips, holding them in place as he picked up speed. Soon enough he was pounding you into the wall, one hand on your head, the other pinning you down tighter as he shifted his hips. His cock found its target a moment later, tapping your cervix until tears pricked your eyes. The sight had him grinning wickedly as he gently brushed the moisture away, never breaking his deep pumping motion. “Aww, don’t cry princess, I'm gonna make you cum so hard…”

He doubled down, slamming into you recklessly as he moaned and tightened his hold. His rhythm became sloppy as he panted into your neck. “Cum with me, please… I wanna feel it- I need to feel you.” A little groan loosed from his lips as he watched you reach between your bodies, rubbing your clit quickly as your head leaned back against his careful hand. He couldn’t hold back, spilling into you with ragged breaths at the sight. “Fuck, baby, m’sorry, I couldn’t…” He kept pumping, desperately wanting to feel you tighten around his cock as you climaxed.

With a few more well aimed thrusts and sweet kisses to your neck, you were melting in his arms, finally feeling that sweet release as he cradled you close. He went to fix your dress and set you down, but you shook your head softly, still in the blissful daze. You didn’t want to be put down, and you doubted your own ability to stand right now, anyways. 

A tender smile crossed his features, and he walked you to his bed, sliding in and making sure you were wrapped up securely in the covers. He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and then just all over until you giggled. 

“Sleep, cutie, we’ll tell my mom about us in the morning.”

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When Drag Queens Were King

With the conflicts about LGBTQIA+, it is fascinating to look back at the history of gays in American history. Once, not only accepted but widely celebrated, drag was a prominent face in the entertainment industry.

During the Shakespearean period, in the late 16th century and early 17th century, women were not permitted to perform on the stage. Men played the female roles. While this wasn’t exactly “drag”, it’s possible gay men took advantage of the opportunity to express their feminine sides.

Originally, drag was not only applied to men performing while dressed as women but, any performer dressed in costumes other than their own gender. In fact, the first recorded drag contest and “ball” in America took place in 1867! Men and women performed in Harlem, New York. There were drag queens and drag kings. Notable during the 1880’s and 1890’s was William Dorsey Swann. Known as the Queen of Drag, Dorsey was more than just a drag queen. An African American, born into slavery, was known for holding secret drag balls. The “Queen of Drag”, Swann, is believed to be the first person in the United States to lead a gay resistance. He held secret drag balls in Washington, DC. One part of the drag balls included a competition known as a “cakewalk”, originally held on plantations by slaves. Couples would dance in precise steps and formation. It is believed to have been a way to subtly make fun of the formal white dances pre and post emancipation. As dance contests, the winners were awarded with cakes!

The Jazz Age (from 1920 - early 1930’s) in large cities like New York, Chicago, and San Francisco saw the popularity of drag performers rise. Minstrel shows, vaudeville, and burlesque provided drag entertainment. Unlike many drag performers, Jean (Gene) Malin was not trying to impersonate a woman. During Prohibition, the days of the “pansy craze”, Malin was openly gay and proud of it. Described as flamboyant and effeminate, he entertained audiences with a wonderful sense of humor. At six feet tall and two hundred pounds, Malin had a lisp that delighted his fans. He was capable of defending himself when needed. He performed in high end nightclubs and was featured in films and on Broadway.

In 1920 Drag Balls and contests were so popular they were even represented in film. Men were referred to as “pansies” or “sissies” and were often portrayed as clothing designers or tailors, hairdressers, or choreographers and dancers. Flamboyant and effeminate, they added humor to films. Women were portrayed as more masculine and dressed in male fashions.

There were actors and actresses who were known to be homosexual, if not to the general public, usually within their professional circles. In 1930’s, Marlene Dietrich, who made no secret of her bisexuality, had the first passionate same sex kiss in a film. However, that wasn’t the first same sex kiss in film. In 1922, Cecil B. DeMille directed a silent movie l, “Manslaughter”, that included an orgy. Although the first same sex kiss has been attributed to the later film, “Wings” in 1927, it was the earlier silent movie that broke the mold.

Drag has once again become popular in America with shows like RuPaul’s Drag Race. On the other hand, the country is in turmoil. The Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer/Questioning, Intersex, Asexual+ (LGBTQIA+) community is already beginning to feel the change in the air, from the White House to every house, apartment, mobile home, hotel, or tent. The president has already signed several executive orders that will negatively impact LGBTQIA+ communities across the country. We can’t allow America to return to days of the Hays Code. We’ve too far to allow it to slip away.

Source: When Drag Queens Were King

[mikodrawnnarratives]

climatiqueen spoilers

that was an ADORABLE EPISODE AHHHHHJKLDSJKLDS

omg we finally have the first ep

WHERE IS HE WHAT. NEW HOME?? HOW

ohhh its a workshop?

the pancake angst

hehe plagg chomp

something tells me this means a little more than pancakes

GORILLA WITH THE WATERHOSE FDKJLJKLFD:FDJLK:FSDJKL: FAVORITE GAG NOW

LKJFSDJKLLKJ:DSKL:JDFS KISSES also the french va for marinette is really cute like. KJFKJ "je t'aime je t'aimeje t'aime" KJLFKJLD

the visual of all of marinettes stuff "yep thats pretty clear" lol

marinettes expressions changing as she notices adrien's dismay like. how she looks when she listens to him fdkldslj

oh audrey looks so cute in the new animation

NEW YURI SHIP DROPPPED SUNSHINE X EMO aglae x aurorreeee

NOT THIS SEASON MAKING ME THINK OF BUGGACHATS FICS CONSTANTLY WHEN IT COMES TO ADRIEN

SOMEONE GET APOLLOS RED BALL

WE GET TO SEE SIREN GIRL OUTSIDE THE POOOL SHE LOOKS SO CUTE

i think aglae is my favorite newly introduced character this season so far

blasting her with the ptsd and maybe ocd hc gun

but i might not even need to for the ptsd i think that might just be canon

MARINETTE GIRL THAT EXCUSE JKLSDFKJLSD

and adrien wannting to go get it for herrrr

BLINK BLINK

ADRIEN IS JUST AS BAD WITH EXCUSES HAHAHA

LADYNOIR CRUMBS!!!! PICKED HER UP BRIEFLY AH

ohhh the 2d effects for the lightning are amazing wow

like at moments it looks like an actual anime this is cool

so many call backs to the og stormy weather ep waow…

AND CAT NOIR SAVED THEM FROM THE TRAIN THIS TIME

AHHH BEING CHAT NOIR IS HIS PASSION KJLFDJKLSD

man i love lila in this season. Now i kind of hc that at least a decent amount of people who have been akumatized have this villain on their hear me out cakes. LIKE DO YOU SEE HOW SHE'S ACTING WITH AURORE LIKE. Aurore getting just a mini one sided crush would be hilarious, even if post akuma its like oh…

CHAT NOIR CAUGHT LB AGAIN FDKLJSDJKL

oh if only you had other miraculouss that could make you go faster- OH. You are smart my bad lb sorry to doubt you

his transformation scene in this animation looks so cool fdlkjsdfklds

love that the battles remain engaging even tho lb and cn can use their power more than once

oh wait. I JUST REALIZED THAT ITS HIS MOM THAT WOULD BE AUTOGRAPHING IT

AURORES SMALL SMILE WHEN CHAT NOIR sAYS THAT AWWWWWW

they should be best friends now

ADRINETTTEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

I hope we get more of aglae in future episodes we didn't get much of her in this one, like i thought for sure she'd show up at the end but i guess we'll have to wait and see what she's being dropped to set up for. It is cool to see a character showing more traumatizing effects of akumas like IT MAKES SENSE

part of me wonders why they made a new character instead of using an old one for it tho? Might have been neat to see mirelle again rocking the emo look but maybe the history of the character would clash with something being planned or smthn

EDIT I KEEP FORGETTING THAT THERES SCENES AFTER THE END SCREEN AH OHHH THUS FRAMING FOR ADRIENNNNNN AHHHHHH THE RUNNING!!! AND SHE (cannot for the life of me remember her name, running girl) SHOWED UP IN THIS EPISODE!!! WAA so that was previously established!!!