#not going to be hard considering it’s all just indulgent nastiness lmao

[marimomo]

down catastrophic on main for the cop and the twisted cycle path in rogue trader

sneak peek (nsfw)

As easily as Marazhai wounded you, Heinrix attended you, kissing nascent bruises and cleaning bleeding cuts as a dog might lick its own wounds. And both of them, fervent in their need to please their Lord Captain in their own way, crowded your body hungrily, possessively, as animals. Claws raked flesh, followed by a gentle brush of fingers. Sharp teeth pierced skin, then a warm mouth murmured supplications into the blood. Neither would let the other have you for long—a competition pitting pain against pleasure, xenos against human, damnation against deliverance.

You were lost in the slide and press of their bodies, held between the two. In front of you: Marazhai, his pallid and skeletal frame a fierce presence. Behind you: Heinrix, a warm, solid comfort. Heinrix lowered his head to worry the raw skin at the curve of your neck, then kissed you just below your ear, whispering reassurances. “I am here, Lord Captain,” he said gently. “I will always keep you safe.”

Marazhai gave no such assurances, but your name on his tongue—bereft all title but adorned with admiration all the same—just as easily captivated you. He gripped your chin in his clawed hand, pressing closer, driving his hips hard into you—and forcing your ass more firmly into Heinrix’s lap. Heinrix slipped his hands around your waist, insisting his presence between you and the xenos.

[moondirti]

Hellloooo🖤 I’m the anon who asked about the Safehouse story!

My brain, unfortunately, is not nearly as wrinkly as yours so I cannot come up with creative ideas like you 😂 BUT! I have a few ideas? Maybe? If you can call them that lol.

Was the spanking the first physical interaction they had? What did the morning after that look like?

What happens if reader has a nasty mental health episode & tries to hide it from Ghost?

Does the pet thing progress? I think we all know that Ghost has a thing for the pet play. I don’t even care, that’s totally canon for me at this point.

Would you ever consider writing about the general dynamic they have? Like the “rules” Ghost might have for them?

Totally and completely a self indulgent ask from someone who just had to pull themselves out of a nasty mental health episode lmao I’m so sorry please ignore this if it’s annoying or dumb!

shh i love all of these. i have so many thoughts now / prev

cw: dubcon d/s lifestyle. petplay. controlling behaviour. possessiveness. panic attacks. toxicity. noncon collaring. financial manipulation. mention of self harm. brief fluff.

Your thing with Simon is hard to contextualise.

Or even understand, really.

Parts of it are welcome. He asserts himself in a way you haven't found in the nobodies you've hooked up with previous, happy to fuck you dumb if it means you'll surrender yourself completely. Which you do. You listen intently and follow every direction he gives in bed, and as a reward he wrings orgasm after orgasm from your squirming body. You cum more in one week than you have in the past month, never not naked and sore, wrists tender from where he anchors his hand to keep them pinned above your head. You hear puppy more than your own name, at this point. And it's a concerning because– Well...

You don't mind it.

But you still don't like him.

It isn't like you necessarily need to like your partners in order to have a good time, but it certainly helps if you can tolerate them beyond a dick-in-hole condition. Simon is an anomaly in that he is the worst person you know, whilst also serving as the best lay you've ever had.

That is to say, his habits haven't changed. He's a fucking terror to live with. Nightmare flatmate, the type you see strangers complain about on reddit forums or hear in a friends story from their sister's husband's cousin. Not something you would take seriously until you live the experience – now existing as a sore, precautionary tale you'll no doubt be pitching to anyone also considering subleasing their place as a safe house.

Perhaps it's made worse by the sexual element you share. Before, he had just been your average perverse man, stealing clothes and walking in on you in the bathroom. Now, it seems that sleeping with him has given him the go-ahead to push that behaviour to an extreme. He'll pat your ass while you go about your business, or tug your hair when you raise your voice. Treats you like a pet that has yet to be debarked; just a silly, sub-human way of entertainment.

You can't help but feel you enabled it. But no–

The pet play is cute when he's drilling your brains out – and perhaps only because you can't think straight enough to raise concern – but you're not a dog. Nor do you want to be treated like one throughout all hours of the day. The onus is on him for not catching the hint.

But of course, accountability isn't in his lexicon.

Things only get worse from there.

"An' where d'you think you're going?"

You're halfway out of the door when he catches you leaving.

If you had been more iron-willed, you would slip out and scurry away before he can continue whatever spiel he has stirring. Instead, it's instinct to shrivel in on yourself, clicking the door shut before turning to face the behemoth waiting in the foyer.

"Out." You huff, intent on cold-stoning him. But it's a fools game when your opponent in the broad-shouldered lieutenant – for he merely cocks his head, waiting your silence out with more silence, and it's all you can do to bite your tongue against the deluge of excuses that pile up. "My mates thought it would be a good idea to catch brunch. Y'know– to celebrate the start of summer break. It's a nice day out so..." You gesture to your attire, like you have any reason to justify a sundress to some man you are in no way committed to.

But you can read the possessive gleam of his eyes as they take stock of your appearance: from your expensive mules, up your moisturised legs, to the low cut of your décolletage. It's easy to connect it to that look he had when you came back home that fateful night, the look of warning before he'd taken you over his lap and slapped your ass raw.

And for some odd reason, you're compelled to dig yourself out of trouble.

"Hm. It is a nice day, innit?" You nod a bit too quick. He stalks closer. "Lots of people out." Your nod is a little less enthusiastic. He's centimetres away now. "Some bad, bad men too."

He lifts the ends of your dress, slowly. Your next words quiver on their way out your chest. It's alarming to find that they don't sound nearly as assertive as you intend for them to be, not like they do horny.

"Where are you going with this?"

Your skirt pools around your hips now, held up by one hand as the other smooths over with the gusset of your panties.

"You plan on lettin' them have at this puppycunt? Have I not been givin' it enough attention?" He mockingly coos, pressing harder against the mound between your legs. Your knees grow weak. Not of your own accord, but weak nonetheless, and you have to hold onto his wrist to keep yourself upright. "Is tha' it?"

"N-No–"

"No? But that's what they'll think seeing you walk around like this, silly thing. Poor, neglected mutt, they'll say. Don't have a firm hand to keep 'er in line." Simon tuts, releasing his grip on your dress to pull something out of his back pocket. With the way he crowds into you, you can't crane your head to see what it is. "Now we can't have tha'. I spoil my girl rotten, wouldn' you say?"

"Yes. Yes but–"

"No buts, pup. Have ta stake my claim on you somehow." Something clicks. All too suddenly, you're made aware of the new weight on your neck. It tightens against the column of your throat – not enough to constrict your airways, but enough so that it hinders the way you move. "There we go. So pretty like this."

Panic seizes you, the steel fist of paralysis capturing your muscles in a vice-like clutch. Even as Simon pulls away, you're almost scared to find yourself in the nearest mirror. Scared of what you'll find dangling between your collarbones. There's no mistaking the textured leather that presses against your skin, nor the soft clink of metal hanging from it. No fooling yourself that this is all some cruel joke, not with the sick leer of satisfaction that warps his face.

Stumbling, you navigate to the bathroom and blindly turn on a light.

That cruel fuck.

"Simon," Your voice is devoid of the anger you feel roaring through your veins, circuiting through the frenzied stutter of your heart to find new passion. Instead, you sound horrified. Near hysterical, choking on your own pleas as you run back to the foyer. Your hands tug at the collar clasped around your neck, desperately searching for a buckle that will aid you in ripping it off, despite seeing the lock latched right at the centre that tells of its permanence. What's more, he had it engraved with a crude variation of a dog collar tag. If lost, leave alone. Or else count your days. "S-Simon, Simon please. Fuck– take it off. Take it off, take it off! I don't want this, I don't want... This isn't funny. I'll change if that's what it takes. Please."

Snot bursts from your nose, cheeks wet with a hot mess of tears. You can't suppress the hiccups that interrupt your begging like pathetic shots to the chest, or the weak hits you beat across his pecs. If you could, then perhaps he would give your tantrum more weight.

As it stands, you're nothing but a feral creature resisting training.

"Shhh. Pets can' speak. Pets don't cry." His thumbs press to your under eyes, tamping the flow of brine that mark steady tracks from your lashes. "You'll ruin your makeup like this."

"Si–"

He stare hardens into something dangerous. Against your better judgment, you clamp your lips shut.

"That's it. You're s'good when you listen to me, pup." Once he's sure you've stopped crying, he removes his thumbs to instead push one into your mouth. You can taste the salty residue of your tears on his fingertips. "Now, this is the bes' of both worlds, see? You can go see your friends with this on. I know pets need their playtime, af'er all."

You arch your back in protest, but all that does is bring you closer to the lieutenant. He misinterprets that entirely, of course, and a small smile breaks his face like you've agreed to his terms. A heavy palm pats your ass.

"S'jus' so you don't forget who you belong to." He chuckles. "An' if your friends like the idea, then I have a few friends for them."

You make it one block before hightailing back home.

Nothing in you wanted to give that bastard the satisfaction, but he made it so that whatever you chose to do – stay home or leave wearing a symbol of his ownership – he'd end up triumphant. Naturally, then, you opted for the lesser of two evils: to leave his vicinity immediately. Besides, you'd promised your girls you'd see them after going AWOL the past fortnight, and you knew you'd get an earful if you decided to reschedule at the last moment.

You thought you would convince them it was a bet. That the collar is just some silly joke you have to bear for the day after a football match didn't go in your favour.

But you make it one block before a tradie on his lunch break catcalls you (you about that freaky ting, beautiful?) and decide to change course completely.

You arrive back at your flat without further incident. Ego stung from the various odd looks you received on your way, but nothing as egregious as being singled out as a freak in the midst of a crowd occurs again.

Still, your hands shake as you push your key into its slot.

Which progress to full body tremors as you turn it in place.

Thankfully, Simon isn't waiting on you on the other side of the door. He sits, manspreading on the couch instead, focus zeroed in on the telly that broadcasts Fulham v Man City. When he doesn't look away, you allow yourself to hope he hadn't heard you come in. But it's a naive pool to place your faith in. Nothing escapes the man, and soon enough, his tone of humoured indifference shatters the silence you've been precariously trying to keep.

"Miss me 'lready?"

A wretched sulk, pit of anger hollowing out anew. You swiftly snatch your laptop from the breakfast bar before storming to your room, making sure to lock the door firmly behind you.

The website is bookmarked. Taunting. Sublet your home as a safehouse for our armed forces. Serve your country and help soldiers find refuge. You would laugh if you weren't so single-minded, typing in your email and password upon being prompted to. You don't have to deal with this shit any longer, nor do you intend to. If you remember correctly, there had been a way to report any problems you face. If you phrase yours right, you might just get Simon pulled from your services.

Good dick be damned.

But when you hit enter to sign in, an error message blinks in red.

Account does not exist.

Which is fine. Shit like this happens all the time. There's no reason to work yourself into a panic, you probably just used the wrong email.

So you try your alternate. Account does not exist.

It feels unlikely, but maybe you'd created it under your school email to give yourself credibility. Only–

Account does not exist.

Your blood pressure is no doubt sky high by now. Other symptoms of stress already start to wrack through you – blurry vision, chest aches, difficulty breathing. Your hands sweat excessively as you dig for the customer care number you're sure exists somewhere, efforts impaired by the ever-present weight of the collar around your neck. You wonder if Simon can smell your anxiety like a predator does its prey. If he's in the other room, salivating, waiting for you to wobble out of your room to go for the kill. Some part of you – a needlessly paranoid part – rests on the conclusion that this is somehow his fault too.

Your phone already rings in an outgoing call once you blink back to the present. While you've been functioning on autopilot, you must have found a number to call that related close enough to your issue.

And your suspicion is confirmed when an automated voice picks up. You are currently... second... in line.

It takes five minutes. When a placating woman speaks up amidst the nauseating music they have queued, you can hardly contain yourself from word-vomiting onto her. Safehouse signup. Lost account. Need to report an issue. Please. It's urgent.

"Okay ma'am. If you could give me your name, I'll be happy to find the source of your problem today." You can't spell it out any faster. "Alright. One moment, please."

"O-okay." You sniffle miserably.

"I see. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that you've been pulled from the program after a complaint was lodged against you. Unfortunately I can't provide more detail than that, but if you need anything else, I would be happy to assi–"

You hang up. The poor thing doesn't need to hear the incensed scream that tears from the deepest parts of you, or the following crack as you chuck your cell at the wall. She'd done what she could. It isn't her fault. It was that self-serving bastard that had you blacklisted from the only thing keeping you financially afloat. It is that that self-serving bastard that continues to occupy space inside your home, despite having no real right to it now.

The tantrum isn't near cathartic enough to unfetter you from your prison of aggravation, and you continue to take it out on everything in your near radius. Your duvet and pillows. The lotion you keep by your beside table. Your own skin, nails piercing into the soft flesh of your palms.

And especially the collar constricting your throat, like vines that tighten at the first sign of struggle.

You have to get this collar off. Even if you fail at everything else, you have to get this collar off.

Scrambling off your bed, you turn your room upside down looking for a bobby pin or a knife. One is unquestionably the safer bet, but you know you'll sit for hours trying to pick the lock that keeps you shackled – so when you find the boxcutter sitting at the bottom of your junk drawer, you immediately take it to your neck.

Just as Simon barges into your room.

You're so far gone, you don't even question how this must look to him. In fact, it doesn't occur to you that you locked your door, and that the only way he could've gotten in is by having a replica of your key. No. You merely twist away from the all-encompassing hold he wraps around your arms, determined to keep the boxcutter away from his confiscation until you can slice through the leather.

But you're crying. Visibly, alarmingly unstable. And Simon's breaths are a little faster than normal, faltering in a way they only do when he's close to climax. He must be worried, which is a funny thought, seeing as he's the reason you're in this mess.

"Alright thas– that's enough of that." He grunts after managing to pry the blade from your hand. You hardly mourn the loss, rather crumbling in on yourself as your sobbing escalates. No longer frustrated, nor determined. Just primed into a suffocating panic attack.

Somewhere in your auditory periphery, you hear the clinking of glass. It doesn't register until he holds a vial of lavender extract you keep under your nose, forcing you to inhale the medicinal aroma. Soon enough, your mouth opens to swallow gulps of unscented air alongside it, and the imposed breathing exercise calms you to a point of blubbering calm.

(For someone so apathetic, you admit he handled that expertly.)

That isn't the end of it, though. Moments later, you're lifted off your feet. He cradles you in both arms as he makes his way to your bed, sitting up against the headboard and placing you on his lap. Safe. Undisturbed.

You say nothing, pressing your wet face into his shirt. For comfort, first and foremost, but the makeup that'll undoubtedly stain the white fabric is an added bonus.

"Know this is hard for y'to understand, pup." Simon begins. "Hard for you ta wrap your head around ownership after bein' alone for s'long. I won't punish you for tha'."

"Y-You don't own me." You accuse.

He shakes his head in response, like your mind is truly as little as he claims. Like you're a dog, complete with two ears and a tail, and he plucked you off the street on the condition that you heel.

If anything, he's the stray.

"Oh, but I do." A large hand rubs circles on your back. Never have you been so conflicted, so torn between leaning in and biting back. "Just don't see it yet, pet. Bu' you will, in time. And in the meanwhile, we'll establish some ground rules to help you adjust."

[dabislilbaby]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

Two ppl actually tagged me in this so thank you @malewifetouya and @happyely 🖤🖤🖤

Sadly some of my most favorite projects are ones that are still sitting in my drafts unfinished 😭 but out of all the ones I've posted these are the ones I'm most proud of <3

"Come Home" — Deku:

I don't even know if this would be considered a fic?? Cuz honestly this was such a short little thing that I wrote in under like 15 minutes 😭 probably the shortest amount of time it's taken me to ever write literally anything. But it was after I watched S6 E136 and literally that night I had a dream where this whole scene was played out in my head. And it just felt so dramatic in the right ways and just raw emotion that I had to write it down. And it's STILL my most liked post on this entire blog😭 but honestly understandable bc sometimes I go back and read it and I'm just like "damn wait I wrote that????" lmfaoo

"Only for you, Toshi" — Shinsou:

Completely opposite from the last one, this is actually the longest thing I've ever written. (that's posted anyway, there's a few longer still in my drafts) I just feel like Shinsou doesn't get enough love but he definitely deserves it😭❤️ all my friends that read it said they really enjoyed it and I'm just really happy with how it came out after working on it for a couple weeks, and that not touching it for a few months and then coming back to it only to finish it in like 2 days lmao

"Attention" — Dabi:

Now this wouldn't be a post about my fics if I didn't include something for my absolute favorite character in the entire show🖤 this fic was very self indulgent bc I'm such a brat🤭 and I'm convinced that Dabi is the king of brat taming. Fun fact, the outfit I described is something I literally own in my closet 😂

"Secrets" — BakuDeku x reader [UNFINISHED]:

This is a multi-part series I'm co-writing with my bsf @haru-x-ren on a joint account we made. (@bunny-x-haru if you'd like to follow) it's currently still a work in progress with only a few parts released, but it is a continuation of a 2 part fic I wrote when I first started called "You're the Only Thing That Makes Sense" — Bakugo So I do recommend reading this one first before Secrets for context and background info. I feel like you can really see my growth in writing from then to now, cuz that was like literally the second thing I ever posted lol. And Haru was literally my biggest fan bc he's the one that got me into writing fanfic<3 so after he read it, he had this absolutely BRILLIANT idea (spoiler) to take the scene I wrote where bakugo and deku were caught fighting after school hours (similar to that scene from season....2? When Bakugo learned about OFA) and turn it into a BakuDeku love triangle and I was honestly obsessed with the idea

And lastly

"For Your Eyes Only" — Dabi:

Another one for my fav<3 this one was for his birthday and is very nasty🤭 also with a little bit of fluff at the end bc I am indeed a hopeless romantic with no romance🥲 also, the cover photo is most definitely the reaction I was imagining when he walks into the room lmao

Side Note:

I know it's been a while since I've posted any writing and I am so sorry 😭 I guess I've just been in a little bit of a funk when it comes to my creativity lately. I mean I've got plenty, and I do mean PLENTY of ideas written down, but Im having a hard time executing them and turning them into something I can post. But I promise I'll get back to posting as soon as I can and I'm really sorry to everyone who has been waiting for stuff😭 I appreciate your patience❤️

Here's 5 other writers I recommend<3

@cathwritestragediesnotsins @aquadenks @kemakoshume @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic + any other writers who'd like to make ur own posts<3

[etherealsign282]

And all I get, ALL I GET FOR ALL OF THIS (see tag ex abuser chronicles) is for you to say I'm sorry ONCE, a generic, unspecified "sorry for everything" apology that lacked any self awareness, and then immediately fucking invalidate that apology with all the bullshit you were posting to run your smear campaign by acting like a victim.

While pretending it was because "everyone else but me relates which is why I posted it" (true story in case you forgot you fucking said that right to my face), when you had never ONCE considered another human being before that point and right after that point and that is undeniable FACT.

Because you didn't even consider *why* I fucking blocked you, why I stopped talking to you, why I stopped giving a FUCK about if me leaving would make you d13 or not (news flash, of course it wouldn't, thats not how an emotional abuser's brain works. They wait til they can milk being a victim before they fucking even pretend trying).

You immediately and once again projected onto me that I wanted you to suffer to play victim, as if I wasn't trying so fucking hard to get you to a mental place where you weren't clinging to that possessive, controlling, abusive behavior, as if I didn't break up with you to be FREE from that fucking whiny self indulgent bullshit, as if I didn't block you so I didn't have to see you brag about being a victim.

As if *I'm* the one wanting you to suffer, when you literally pretended you were suffering to begin with just so you could feel good about yourself!

*You* are the one who wanted to sit and suffer in your imagination land. While pretending you weren't going to suffer over it. But if that were the case, you wouldn't have seen yourself suffering to begin with from anything other than your own fucking actions, just to have to "take back the power"! That's like throwing yourself in the river while acting like someone else did it, struggling to stay afloat and apologizing for the lie so they'd help you one last time, going to everyone else and saying you're a victim of being tossed in by someone else when that is STILL not true, and then saying the other person wanted to watch you drown because they walked away from your bullshit lmao.

So all I get for all of this is a shitty apology and a bitch with a super fucked ego talking about "humble yourself bitch" and "I'm a people pleaser" and "my ex thinks I'm not shit" like because you AREN'T. And the SECOND, the goddamn SECOND, that I no longer play nice with you and tolerate your lying, manipulative ass shit and block you, you drop the fucking act IMMEDIATELY and start bitching, whining, playing victim, making shitty drawings about being hurt. Lmao YOU DONT KNOW WHAT HURT IS.

Whole ass had to fucking fake giving a shit about being a rxpist just to try and look good and make me trust you again, and once it didn't work, that fucking mask fell right off your goddamn fucking face and you started with your passive aggressive bullshit again, not having learned a goddamn thing. Only self aware enough to talk about healing and growth while blaming ABUSE VICTIMS for what went down bc you didn't think it was fucking fair enough that you weren't allowed to play victim AND keep me on your Facebook. Fucking gossiping about us trying to find a place so we don't get it (either to the office or your daddy whom I still remember you saying you wanted to fxck) bc yeah, we got ears too and we know what y'all said to the office. Trying to keep up the performative shit on your fb but you'll team up with capitalism just bc you still think you're a fucking victim in some way that something was gonna happen to your nasty, grotesque self. Not very "eat the rich, I'm a leftist" of you but ok. Just passive aggressive shit and lies left and right to try and make yourself feel better because after all the performative bragging about learning how to sit with your shit instead of deflect it to feel better about yourself, you STILL DID IT. Fuck youuuuuu. Piece of fucking trash.

You're lucky we aren't useless like you and actually got a house to live in after you tried to pull some shit.

[zevexsii]

i love your blog! i started playing idv recently and i'm in love with your writing! know that you have an avid supporter of your blog 🥰 and i would like to see more of Andrew’s little things because i need my boy’s stuff😔

awww! thank you nonnie!

i have some more ideas for andrew, i know this bit plays heavily on his behavior and what goes on in his head, but i think those are important things to start out with, i’m sorry if those parts are dense and/or hard to read.

misc. andrew kreiss headcanons || cut for length

andrew is... a lot to unpack (loving). he’s an asocial, anxious, coarse man, with an inferiority complex complemented by years of intense religious trauma, with a side order of mommy and (lack of?) daddy issues. 

most of his interactions with survivors and hunters alike are very tense and rocky, andrew’s emotions being an unpredictable swing between bending over backward to prove his usefulness or snapping when required to respond in an overly aggressive manner. 

considering the time range that the manor survivors are from, andrew would probably receive some disparaging comments and microaggressions due to his albinism- the manor is already an unsafe place. The expected response from its inhabitants is even more triggering for andrew’s poor self-esteem. 

any sort of friendship or half-honest relationship is incredibly rare, and will only happen by circumstance, or if you approach andrew in just the right way, even platonically. especially platonically. andrew is deeply immersed in the narrative of his own monstrosity, maintaining and constantly feeding into the belief that he is positively unlovable and any kindness shown to him is an attempt to use him or some subconscious pity response. pity is the last thing that andrew kreiss wants from people. 

not only are those infantilizing words blatantly insulting, but andrew’s inferiority complex is tipped off by nearly anything, so even kind statements can be perceived as disparaging jabs or send andrew into a guilt-ridden spiral, thinking that he’s tricked the other party into seeing him as something other than himself. 

now for a little break from the psychoanalyzing lmao

andrew is super illiterate. he was never given any formal education, though his mother did her best to teach him the basics of the alphabet before she passed away. since he worked closely with the church and the bible would’ve been one of the most readily available pieces of literature, it’s expected that he knows a plethora of bible verses, but they’re mainly memorized. 

poor guy has really bad blood circulation, so he’s cold all of the time- another reason for the cassock and patched-up coat he’s always wearing. this isn’t due to his albinism, mainly just because of how tall he is. i headcanon that he’s at least 188cm when his shoulders are hunched, which is pretty much always, and stands at a whopping 195cm when he straightens out. 

now, as for his interactions with the people he trusts the most (still, there’s barely any trust there), andrew is flaky at best. it’s not his fault; his primary defense mechanisms include obscene amounts of self-isolation and some behavior that could be low-key considered emotional manipulation; mainly unintentional guilt-tripping. in particularly overwhelming situations, andrew tends to mutter to himself about any assortment of topics, always in a low, frantic tone, whether he’s discussing his own unworthiness or cursing out someone else. 

contrasting heavily with the media he’s been exposed to, andrew curses quite a lot. he’s not super bad about it, but it’s part of his image that he has to maintain for his own perceived sense of safety. however, if you use the “lord’s” name in vain around him, you’re going to get at least an eye roll or a nasty look shot your way. andrew doesn’t go out of his way to fight or correct people he disagrees with, but he definitely finds ways to passive-aggressively make his opinions known. 

andrew quite enjoys gardening, specifically orchids and irises. back at Lutz Graveyard, he had his own little plot outside of the cemetery walls. 

i headcanon that andrew’s family is german, so, adding a german accent and the occasional foreign phrase, he’d be relatively difficult to understand if you’re not paying attention. not to mention andrew’s mumbl-y speech patterns.

andrew has a surprising sweet tooth! although, he does hold indulging himself in such activities to be a bit of a shameful activity. he favors raspberry pastries or any time of glazed item- cake doughnuts are his weakness. also a big fan of hard candies! he still has some vague memories of sharing small caramels with his mother as a young boy; hence, he keeps it as one of his nostalgic favorites. 

really likes art. he’s always been around artistic depictions of his faith, and, lacking the vocabulary to express himself otherwise, andrew picked up whatever he could and scribbled things out. small pieces of smudged paper (andrew is left-handed), ripped and torn around the edges, can be found around seldom-visited corners of the manor, scrawled over with graphite and ink.  

also tagging @rintares because of their andrew fixation /pos

[twoohugs]

First time (?) watching My Neighbor Totoro

I’m pretty sure I watched this as a kid, but I can’t remember anything about the plot except the black dust thingys, and that there’s a cat bus thing, so let’s just say I’ve never seen it for convenience’s sake. And again I definitely recognize the music:) I like it. 

Is this… the start of every Pokemon game ever? Is it normal to put your children in the back of a truck with all the luggage? That sounds like a recipe for disaster. Or at least so nasty bruises. And the fact that they need to hide probably means it’s illegal too.

Mei: “omg I killed the thing!!!!!”

Me: what did you expect when you squashed it like a mosquito

Oh no. A sick mum. Please tell me she isn’t going to die. Please. A parent dying is worse than a dead parent. I’m not emotionally prepared to deal with a parent dying.

See, the wonders of working remotely. I work from home too, and it’s reassuring to know that if I ever decide to up and move to the countryside, I can still keep my job. Nice. (only if there is wifi, though.)

Giant fluffy butt! Giant fluffy butt!

Also, Mei really has no sense of self-preservation, huh. First she runs off into a mysterious tunnel-thing after two mysterious-creature. Then she climbs onto the giant fluff. After after seeing it lick its lips, she climbs closer. And--oh my god look at those teeth oh gosh--is she…laughing??? That thing looks like it could and will eat humans, and excuse me if I prefer to not poke it. I mean, if you see a huge Snorlax thing, the logical thing to do will be the quietly creep off to the opposite direction, right? Right?

So I heard that indulging children at moments like this will make things even worse in the long run—idk, I don’t understand children and probably never will, but aren’t you supposed to like, train them out of separation anxiety?

Just did a quick search—google says you should “try not to give in” because “setting consistent limits will help children adjust to separation”… I guess that makes sense. In a way, it is good that Mei has such a supportive family—they never outright doubt her stories regarding Totoro, indulge her, and care about her when she is upset… But at the same time I almost feel like she’s way too spoiled. She doesn’t get told off when wandering off, which could be dangerous. Nanny actually brings her to Mei’s school when she is in class, just because she insists. I’m pretty sure that’s not how you should raise children? There’s a line between sympathy and over-indulgence.

Oh my god, does this make me heartless? But like, we already know she has no self-preservation instincts. This girl will not be able to take care of herself if this goes on! I guess this is what happens when you just let young children roam free and somehow they luckily never got in serious danger. (me, later when Mei runs away and disappears: I knew it, I totally saw this coming!!)

lmao both of them are me when I am forced to socialize. Tag yourself are you the “omg omg what do I do what do I say” type, or the “if I pretend hard enough that this silence is comfortable maybe they won’t feel the need to talk to me” type?

8. These children need sneakers. And pants.

Thoughts:

I watched this right after finishing Castle in the Sky, and the contrast in mood and colours was drastic. Everything is so bright, and I could almost taste the fresh air of the countryside. (I haven’t left the house in over two months. I don’t get a lot of fresh air. Thanks rona.) The opening scene is so carefree and happy and full of child-like enthusiasm that it just brings a smile to my face. It really gives me the urge to go, like, hiking or go for a run in the countryside or something... Just joking, I’m allergic to physical activities.

Also, is supernatural elements a thing in this universe, or are people just really accepting with children’s antics? I feel like it’s great that adults don’t outright say “no that’s crazy those aren’t real”, but then I wonder if they actually consider them a possibility. Both with the dust bunnies and Totoro.

I also noticed how everything is so…casual. Maybe in a children’s point of view, it is. Even meeting this giant flurry mystical creature is just one of the interesting events of their life, not a major plot point. Satsuki is literally like “dear mum, today I went to school and after school I met Totoro, which is so cool, and we planted the pine nuts it gave us.” Like it’s cool and fun but ultimately not too big a deal. Or, on the contrary, it may be because everything is exciting to children--meeting Totoro is super great, but planting pine nuts and watching them grow is just as cool. And I think that enthusiasm is amazing too.

Either ways, it does make the film kind of…underwhelming (there is literally no plot!), but I definitely get why people say it’s relaxing.

[zirkkun]

Yo you have every right to be upset about things! You're still a person with your own feelings and deserve to be treated kindly. No one should come at you for making things you enjoy or for misunderstandings. I hope things get better for you even if I wasn't here for when all the drama happened (or maybe I was and just wasn't aware of it? I tend to avoid drama as much as possible tbh)

I didn't really post about it much. I think I answered about 4 asks about it (three of them in the same post because i was sure it was the same anon due to the similar string of seemingly continued messages) and the rest I just deleted as soon as they came in, but I got... A lot. A lot of mean things said too. Kinda hurts when you wanted to make something because you knew this work was highly criticized and wanted to let people give it a second chance only to be shot down by the people you were hoping to defend lol

In short, and a lot of it I missed because I was blocked by a lot of people so my friend sent me screencaps; someone took I believe only the old ask box post I had for ULR, which at the time was called "Underlust Rewrite," and was disgusted at the fact that everything was revamped and "made for kids" (because it's not 18+ explicit content, but as I've said before, it's just cause I'm too scared to be horny on main, and I've literally made a whole different biological system for ULR so I can write the necessary story ""sex scenes"" without it being human-like sex or otherwise uncomfortable or too explicit for me to draw, but I still consider it a mature story overall), so they blocked me instantly here and on twitter and then made a callout post on twitter itself. People were telling me originally to stop calling the AU Underlust, and I didn't really get it at first, because like, what's the difference between my spinoff and, say, Underlust Gold, Swapfell Indigo, TS!Underswap, you know, names that have add-ons from the original title to differentiate it but still connect it to the source. So that's what I said, as well as if I removed the Underlust name, it would be considered stealing to me, because I'd be disconnecting it from the source. But apparently, instead, what had been the concern was that it was just being called "Underlust" and the "Rewrite" aspect was implying I was replacing the original story, which like, had never been my intention and I've made a bunch of things with both the ULR and UL cast together and love the idea of Lust and Ace meeting up and just being a disaster duo of not working together at all. I just adore Underlust like it's in my pinned FAQ, Lust's been in my banner for months now, and he's practically my staple pfp character on every account but here atm.

It took like 3 days for it to actually click what was going on, because once I finally got the chance to have a conversation with someone where they weren't telling me I was the scum of the Earth -- which, honestly, bless the three people I talked to, they were so sweet (which actually included someone from the Japanese side of the fandom whose art I loved too... yeah it got pretty far. Once I sent them a message though it was cleared up quickly and they did post a clarification post about ULR and me, so that was nice to see.) -- I finally got the chance to realize that this was a misunderstanding from the beginning, from both sides, where people coming at me were saying I was doing all of the stuff above and probably more but those stuck the most, while I was confused as to where this information and accusations were coming from and what they were referring to in the first place. They probably never explained it in the anon asks because, well, they probably assumed I knew what I was doing, but when they came at me about something I didn't do with vague context of something I did do, I was very confused, and got really defensive really quickly, and really honestly snapped pretty hard. After my first initial explanation post and people were still trying to tell me to stop ULR/don't call it Underlust/whatever else there was, I just got tired and told people to block me if they didn't like it. But that didn't really stop anyone and honestly made it worse because that's when I started getting really nasty messages. I like... Specifically remember one where someone called me a lowlife and a thief, and that one stuck the most, but I tended to not read through them before deleting them for my own sanity. I actually did this to one of the people who'd later talked to me calmly about it at first too, because I had just woken up, and really didn't want to read an essay lecture on everything everyone's been telling me at the crack of 7am when I was borderline ready to delete my account and start over lol

Some people I do remember were accusing me of trying to censor nsfw content or erase it as well because ULR isn't 18+, and I'm out here on my horny ass like "wh. What are they talking about, where did you get that idea, have you SEEN my ao3 recommended list," /j but in all seriousness I really didn't understand that accusation at all because I've never been against nsfw content in the slightest and lowkey? This is very dumb -- but like, you know how they say when you get hate mail, you know you've made it? Well, for me, my thought has always been, "When there's 18+ fancontent of my OC's, I'll have finally made it." This is... Not a joke, some of my friends think its very weird LMAO oh well. I've been on the internet for far too long at this point -- like, definitely since I was far too young, probably, and being with a family of the next youngest being 12 years older than me, I really dove into stuff pretty quickly I definitely shouldn't have, but hey that's life -- I'm really unfazed by mostly anything now. Hell, me making ULR was honestly half motivated by me wanting to make others more comfortable with this kind of media, discussing sexuality and otherwise sexual-considered topics, without really being embarrassed or bothered by it. Because, people talk about death and killing and whatever other gorey stuff just fine, but the moment sex comes up, people just gasp in awe, y'know? I kind of grew up that way myself but like... ironically, in being more comfortable with my asexuality, I realized that it's honestly not that big of a deal. Sure, we don't need to hear the details of everything. We don't need to hear the details of a murder either. But I will never understand how murder is always the lowest on the "morally wrong list of things to not to" to so many people and that it's fine to mention, but even consider bringing up anything else and it's like, a sin and you're a bad person. Even racism is like, higher up on there for a lot of people, which it's like... this is an issue that needs to be discussed, or it can never be solved. You can't just kick that away and hope it goes away on its own, that's never how it works.

Ah, well, now I've gone off tangent lol. Sorry to make you read a blob of text lmao but having things in a cohesive format of what I've been thinking does feel a bit better. Thank you for the support regardless, and I do want to keep making what I really enjoy, because frankly, I really want to make things that make people take a step back and think for a moment, y'know? Things that invoke like a realization in yourself about something you didn't even know. That's how fiction's always been for me, so I want to give back by making it that way too. ... maybe my horny content is exempt from this however. That's just. Self indulgence LMAO.

Probably helps that I'm actually talking this all out for once, too, since before any of this I tried to keep as much of the situation contained to myself as possible in hopes I could clean it up before it got too bad. That was, in hindsight, probably a terrible idea lol. But I didn't want to be a source of stress for anyone following me or become the new creator-to-defend that like, 50% of people hate and 50% of people love and that you're either on one side or the other and there's no where in between. (I feel like Arin Hanson comes to mind for me every time I think of someone like this.) I know I can't please everyone and I knew internet hate would come eventually, but like, didn't expect it to be over a name or tag choice. I thought that would be a simple enough DM or clearable thing but apparently not, especially since I saw someone a few weeks ago delete their blog over a similar thing (though, the opposite, in a way: posting nsfw in a sfw tag by mistake). It wasn't in the UT fandom so y'all probably weren't following them (tbf I wasn't either, I just witnessed it happen from start to finish), but it was still disheartening.

Anyway, thank you, and sorry to make ya read all of that (if you actually did vahdbs don't blame you if you don't it's a lot of thought dump lmao)💕💕

[krosaceae]

1, 3, 5, 15 :)

Fanfic Writer Questions! Feel free to send me an ask :)

Thanks a ton for the ask! I'll be answering all these in regards to Barriers, quite possibly the world's most self-indulgent Graire fic (Read on AO3 or FFN)

1. If you had to create a soundtrack for your story, what songs would you choose? Why?

Damn, this is so hard considering how much music I listen to while writing/planning Barriers. I do name my chapters after songs that inspired me while writing said chapter, so I figure my soundtrack would end up being those songs. 

There are over 20 songs on that bad boy, and I already feel like this post is going to be long, so you can view/listen to the playlist HERE! I’ll continue updating it as I post new chapters :-)

As for why I picked these songs… or really why I pick any of the songs on any of my playlists. It’s all about the feels, how the music and the lyrics come together to take me to a place I need to go to be creative. You know the feel you get when you listen to a song, and it just reminds you of an emotion, a place, a memory, etc.? I’m not sure if that makes sense lol, but the mood that a song creates in my little Brain World helps me find words to put on the page. Music a lot of the time helps interface Brain Scenes into Written Word, and these songs above did just that… and happened to have names that I enjoyed as chapter titles lmao. 

Either way, I do have some Barriers playlists that I will shamelessly plug here.

Gray’s playlist

Claire’s playlist

The ~Graire~ playlist

Rest is under the cut because ya girl went in hehe

3. If you had to direct a scene from your fic, what would you choose? Why? What would it look like? What techniques would you use to convey certain emotions? What would the set look like?

Oooh. Hands down Chapter 8, the Fireworks Festival, particularly when Gray finds out that Claire’s pregnant. AH. Such an emotional scene and I would love to take advantage of the fireworks in the background. I’ll be honest that I don’t watch very many movies, and I’m not a director in the slightest, so I have no idea what the fuck I’m talking about.

So obviously our set is Claire’s farm at night. I imagine everything dark and quiet outside, the only light being Claire’s house. Almost shooting that bitch like a scary movie at first because like, Gray is terrified and I’d want viewers to feel that same way.

When Gray finally finds Claire and she’s on the verge of losing her shit, you zoom in on the tears, the soaked blanket, just Claire’s general state of disarray (which at this point, is out of character for the way she's presented herself) the way she grips Gray’s shirt, etc. And once she finally starts talking I picture the camera just focused on the two of them, because Gray is on the edge of his seat waiting to find out what the fuck is going on and doesn’t see ANYTHING else. Plus the booming fireworks going off in the back just as the situation is getting more intense. Claire would say that she’s pregnant and then the screen would go black lmao.

5. What makes your main ship so compatible? Or, what makes them so incompatible? What do they see in each other?

Oooh. This is complicated, because right now where I’m currently at in the fic it could go either way. As much as I would LOVE to spoil everything, I’m going to speak only for where I’m at in the story.

Gray and Claire are quite compatible at their best, v incompatible at their worst. When the two of them both get out of their head and are real with the other, they work well together. Both are sarcastic, sassy, witty, and have similar senses of humor. They both appreciate the value of hard work and dedication to their craft, and overall, want to be successful in life by their own means. In addition to liking the way the other makes them feel and just like… generally finding the other attractive, I think Claire and Gray admire the other’s drive and passion to some degree. They feel like having someone like that around them (whether it be a friend or… y’know, something else >.>) helps them stay on track. Additionally, some of the things they experienced before moving to town, in addition to experiencing the whole pregnancy thing together, helps them connect and understand each other in ways that maybe others around them can’t. Neither of them likes to be judged, so at times this is conducive to them feeling safe enough to confide things in the other that they may not do with anyone else.

However, Claire and Gray are both also really fucking good at building walls (Hence the name of the fic lol.) and spend a lot of time either hiding, running, or pushing people away. At their worst, their relationship is a grease fire. Both have a tendency to mask how they’re actually feeling for various reasons, despite both of them ALSO valuing honesty from others. It's the hypocrisy for me. Claire’s gut reaction is usually to tell people what she thinks they want to hear, lying for the sake of self-preservation because GOD FORBID she be rejected or be perceived negatively. Gray’s gut reaction is to do or say nothing. He fears vulnerability and doesn’t want to be seen as weak, so if he’s not consciously thinking about it, he’s going to say and do whatever will keep the illusion that he’s got it together. Which is just usually acting unbothered and pushing everything down until he’s beyond bothered. The main issue is that they both also say and do things they don’t mean when upset, and it doesn’t help that for some reason Claire seems to really get under Gray’s skin, and vice versa. Their arguing styles are pretty combative, so without any framework for de-escalating the situation, shit can get pretty nasty between them. Especially when jealousy and other complicated feelings get involved. *Wink wink*

15. Pick a previous relationship (or multiple) of your character’s. Explain how that/those impact the way they navigate their way through relationships now.

Hehe. I’d love to talk about Claire’s previous relationship(s), but I’m going to focus on Gray because he’s the main character and like, major spoilers.

Gray and Mary though. Ah. What a beautifully confusing clusterfuck. There was a lot of push/pull in Mary and Gray’s relationship, and it's intentionally confusing in the fic. Idk if any of you have ever had a friend that you’re really close with, one that you’re crazy about, and you know they like you too, but for whatever reason, they don’t actually want to be exclusive or make it official? Whatever the kids are calling it nowadays. But like yeah. Both loved having the other around and hated the idea of losing them to someone else, even if they couldn’t have them. So on top of their actual friendship was a ‘relationship’ based on impulsive, desperate acts of affection, wobbly boundaries, and evading any actual conversations about it all.

For that reason, Gray is determined to be more open about how he’s feeling rather than sucking it up for the sake of not being lonely. He’s trying to be more honest and expressive instead of holding it all in moving forward, as scary as it is for him. Gray’s relatively been a man of inaction in his relationships (even before Mary), and when he did act, it was usually backed by anger, alcohol, or both. Basically the dude is just trying to take control of his relationships rather than being a passenger.

WHEW. That was a blast! I definitely wrote too much but I super appreciate the ask! <3

[stressedkitkatttt]

In Control(Let The Games Begin Part 3, Dirtier Version)

This is for the people who wanted it dirty with Zabdiel. I have little to say about this - enjoy! It's basically the same, only the smut part is different. And also sorry if it isn't that good... I don't really like getting tied up so I don't know how that shit goes down... But I tried so that counts, right?

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Dom!Zabdiel, SMUT, oral, BDSM elements(bondage), overstimulation, gets a little real in some parts, y'all wanted nasty so I give you nasty(lmao I tried), but it's definitely dirtier than my original idea for this story.

DISCLAIMER: Do NOT  think it is okay to take my stories and post them somewhere else without my EXPLICIT PERMISSION. Do NOT  think it is okay to take anyone else's stories and post them somewhere else without their EXPLICIT PERMISSION. Giving credit does NOT count as permission. You may reblog my stories, you may NOT repost my stories without MY PERMISSION.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The boys started early; an interview in the morning followed by a small fan meet and greet, which takes a long while to finish up. All the boys were having fun. All except one, that is. You noticed that Zabdiel was acting rather strange today. Of course, he covered it in front of the cameras and fans but when he was out of sight, he just seemed.... off. You've rarely ever seen him like this; the last time you did someone had pushed his last nerve and he hadn't hesitated to rip the poor guy a new one before going back to the bus and not showing his face for the rest of the night.

The question now is either who pissed him off or was it a personal problem? You decide to take a chance knowing that Zabdiel would never lay a finger on you. As far as chewing you out, you weren't so sure. You keep an eye on him for the time being to look for any signs that he might lash out on certain people. Nothing. Every person that came up to him didn't seem to piss him off so now you're beginning to think that it was a personal problem he was dealing with. And you wanted to know what it was.

~~~~

Backstage of tonight's show was tense, the air was electric, and the boys were smiling like crazy from the thrill of going out on stage. Even Zabdiel, who had been grumpy all day, had a smile playing at his lips. You wished the boys good luck and watched as they went out on stage to their respective positions before starting - the crowd of screaming fangirls and boys going absolutely wild.

You watched how fluidly their movements matched. You watched Zabdiel and noticed that the way he moved his hips was just a little harder than they should be. The boys were so in sync this time around. Your tongue pokes out to lick your lips as dirty thoughts of how all the boys could show you those sinful moves. It wasn't the first time you'd thought about having all of them at the same time but that was one fantasy you kept to yourself. Maybe one day it'll become a reality. Sure, they share you already but doing it with each other at the same time could raise some problems. So until then, this is one fantasy you wanted to indulge by yourself.

You're snapped from your thoughts as a production assistant came up beside you and placed a hand on your shoulder. You turn to face him. "Come with me, Ali needs your help." You take one last look at the boys before following the PA down a hallway. After helping out Ali, you come backstage just in time to see the boys say goodbye to their fans before running backstage. They each grab a towel and wipe off the sweat from their foreheads and necks. You help the boys remove the equipment from their shirts and handing them off to some backstage worker. The boys stayed around to talk; buzzing about how well tonight's show went. All except for Zabdiel, who walked off first chance he got.

Everyone watched as he walked off down the hall to his dressing room. "Tal vez sólo está cansado?" Erick says. Everyone seemed to leave it at that and continued on talking about their performance. You, however, decided to follow the tall Puerto Rican. You walk all the way to his dressing room door and you take a deep breath and knock twice. There was some shuffling before the door opened and revealed a shirtless Zabdiel, who's pants were hanging just a little lower than necessary. He didn't say anything but he stepped to the side to let you in. Once you were in, the door was closed and locked.

You turn to face him, watching as he walks past you and to the small couch, collapsing onto it with a small huff. You decide to sit on the chair close to the mirror. There's a silence that's fallen in the room. You decide to break it. "You gonna tell me what's going on?" He doesn't reply but keeps his eyes on you.

"There is nothing wrong." He replies after a few moments. You scoff at the horrible lie. He may hold a good facade against everyone else except you. You had a sixth sense of knowing when someone is lying. And you can't even count the number of times you've caught people in their bullshit.

You cock a brow at his response, hardening your gaze a little. It never took much for the boys to crack when they're around you. Zabdiel was no exception. "Zabdiel, I've known you for close to three and a half years. You know you can't lie to me." He sighs and nods in defeat.

"Vale, vale... tú ganas." He shows his hands. "Siento que no tengo ningún control. Todos el mundo siempre nos dice qué hacer. Sin embargo, nunca nos preguntan si es lo que queremos hacer." He takes a deep breath. "Me estresa, siento que no tengo control." You take a moment to process what he just said. You make a mental note to tear management a new one for not considering how the boys feel or what they want. You look at Zabdiel, who had his face buried in his hands, elbows propped on his knees. He needed you tonight, that was a given. Now whether that meant stress relief through sex or talking to a friend was entirely up to him.

You get up and walk over to the tall blonde and sit down next to him. You place a hand on his back and gently rub circles. You feel him lean against your touch and sigh contently. You try to hold in your impure thoughts at the feeling of his back muscles tensing and relaxing, trying so hard you don't realize you've stopped massaging his back. He turns to look at you and sees you're lost in your own thoughts. He reaches up a hand to gently cup your cheek, which takes you out of your thoughts.

The smirk on his lips tells you he knew exactly what you were thinking. You see his eyes darken and he suddenly grabs your hips, dragging you into his lap and unleashes a searing kiss upon your lips. You moan and grip his hair, letting him take control. He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours, breath fanning across your face.

"Yo necesito," he whispers, "pero no aquí."

~~~~ You and the boys finally reached the hotel and file out of the van. The trip over from the venue was silent, the boys either listening to music or resting their eyes for a brief moment. You all grab your suitcases and hotel room keys before heading to the elevator. You stand between Zabdiel and Erick, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. The doors open and you follow the boys out. Thankfully, you didn't have to put up a fight with any of the boys because of the concert. They all head to their respective rooms and bunk down for the night. You follow Zabdiel and realize that your rooms are right next to each other. How convenient.

You put your stuff inside your room before knocking on Zabdiel's door. It opens immediately and he is quick to move you inside. The second the door closes, Zabdiel is on you and pushing you against the wall, placing his knee in between your legs. He quickly takes your hands and pins them above your head with one hand. His kiss is hot and he instantly takes control. He pulls away and looks down at you squirming against him. "I'm in control tonight." You look up at him.

"I noticed," you reply. He leans back in and kisses you again. The three years you've known him, he was never this rough with you. Sure, he liked to be on top, sometimes even letting you dominate him if he felt like switching it up, but he was never this... aggressive. Not that you were complaining.

He pulls away and picks you up, shoving you down onto the bed and pinning you down with his weight. "Are you okay with this?" He suddenly asked. You look at him and nod.

"You aren't the first person to dominate me like this, Zabdie." You reply, licking your lips. He leaned down to place his lips by your ear, his breaths sending little shocks down your body.

"Maybe not, but I'll be the one you won't forget." He gets up and walks over to his duffle bag, pulling something out but keeping it out of your sight. He finally turns around, keeping whatever he had behind his back as he walks back over to the bed. "Come here." He commands. You crawl over to him and sit on your knees in front of him, waiting for his next command.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" He asks one more time, hand coming down to cup your cheek. You nod and he isn't satisfied. "Use your words, nena.”

"Yes Zabdiel, I am okay with this." He nods in approval before pulling out a long silk ribbon from behind his back. He places it down beside you and quickly removes your shirt. You weren't wearing a bra underneath, a very pleasant surprise for him. He moans as your breasts bounce free. He grabs the silk and you place your hands out in front of you, letting him tie the ribbon.

He takes a step back to admire the way you look. Topless, hands tied in front of you, and the innocent look you're giving him just adds to his arousal. He reaches a hand out and cups your cheek. You lean into the touch and look him in the eyes, pulling the most innocent look you can. He groans and swipes his thumb over your lips. You take it into your mouth, swirling your tongue over it. His eyes darken, his other fingers tighten around your jaw. "Did I say you could do that, princesa?" His voice is deeper than normal; more dominating. You lick a final stripe over his thumb and pull away, a coy smirk on your lips.

"No papi."

"Entonces, por qué lo hiciste?" His accent was thick.

"Because I can." A wide grin spreads across your face and you can see the wheels turning in his head. Your eyes trail down for a split second and you notice the twitch in his pants. He likes it when you disobey him. He takes a moment before replying.

"We haven't even started and you're already disobeying me, nena," his grip tightens around your jaw. He suddenly moves you back and pushes you into the bed. Your head lands on the pillows and the bed dips beside your head. You watch as he grasps the silk and moves your hands above your head, tying the end of the ribbon on the headboard. You tug but the knot doesn't budge.

Zabdiel moves down to the edge of the bed and you watch as he begins to undress. He quickly removes his shirt and pants, leaving on his boxers. Your eyes trail down his toned chest and to his prominent bulge. He reaches down and palms himself for a few moments and you clench your thighs together. He climbs onto the bed and crawls up until he reaches your legs. He rubs your legs, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and looking at you with dark eyes. "Open your legs, amol."

You smirk and keep them closed. He sighs and places his hands on your knees and pulls them open. The sudden smack against your ass made you jump in surprise, letting out a small moan slip past your lips. "The more you disobey me, the longer it will take you to cum. Only good girls get to cum." You nod and open your legs some more, allowing him easier access to your heat. He runs his hands up and down your sides before finally deciding to unbutton your pants and pull down the zipper. He slowly takes off your pants and drags them down your legs, leaving you in just your underwear.

Once they're off, he throws them in a corner and focuses on your clothed cunt. He slowly runs his finger over the fabric and applying a little bit of pressure, just enough to give you a tingling sensation but not enough to give you any relief. You begin to squirm the more he teases you. He stops and pulls away from you, landing a smack on your ass. You moan again. "You like it when I spank you, don't you? Such a dirty girl you are." He rubs your thighs and you calm down.

Soon enough, you feel his fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear and pull them down. He groans at the sight of your glistening cunt and begins to stroke your clit with his finger. "Already wet?" He asks, looking up. You moan and dig your head into the pillows. "What do you want? Dime." It was a loaded question, he knew what you wanted but he was in control and he wanted to hear it.

You lift your head to look Zabdiel in the eyes. "I want you to fuck me." He doesn't waste a moment and quickly pushes in one of his fingers, followed by another one. He begins to thrust his fingers at an agonizingly slow pace, making sure to drag his fingertips against your walls. You begin to moan and push your hips against his fingers, pushing them against your soft spot. When he pulls away suddenly and smacks your thigh, you groan in frustration. You look at him again. "Why'd you stop, Zabdie?"

"You take what I give you. Remember, the more you act up, the longer it will take for you to cum. If you keep this up, you won't be cumming at all tonight." He threatens. He suddenly leans up and his hand lands around your throat. You look up at him with big eyes. "And what's my name?"

"Zabdiel." You reply, smirking when his hand tightens, knowing damn well that's not what he wanted to hear. You were expecting him to smack your ass again but you watched in shock as he just shrugged and pulled away. You watched, mouth agape, as he climbed off the bed and removed his boxers, letting his dick slap against his stomach. Your eyes are instantly drawn to his dick and your pussy clenches around nothing. He begins to stroke himself, making a little show of how his hand fits perfectly around his dick and how he moves up and down. "What are you doing?"

He raises a brow, "You seem so keen on not wanting to cum tonight, so I might as well get myself off tonight and leave you here." You bite your lip as he continues stroking himself, letting out little moans here and there. He was never really vocal during sex. You tug on your restraints but couldn't get free. You can only take so much before you break.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry papi," you whisper out, clenching your thighs. Who knew watching Zabdiel get himself off would make you this hot and bothered? He stops his hand and looks at you.

"What did you say? I can't hear you."

"I said, I'm sorry papi. I really do want to cum." He approaches the bed again and places himself between your thighs.

"But you sure aren't acting like it."

"I promise I'll be a good girl from now on. Just please..."

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me until I can't walk papi! Por favor, no puedo tomarlo más!"

"Okay. I'll be nice. If you disobey me one more time, however, I will leave you tied up and you will not cum at all." You nod and lay your head back down into the pillows. He spreads your legs once more and slips a finger in. You moan out and it takes every ounce of self-control to not buck your hips. Just be a good girl and you can cum is all that repeats in your head. He adds a second finger and you begin to lose yourself in the pleasure, feeling the knot in your stomach growing bigger the more he brushes his fingers along your walls and sweet spot.

"Fuck, papi, I'm close." He encourages you to let go, rubbing your clit with his thumb and that's all that it takes for you to cum. You buck your hips into his hand and he watches as your juice flows out onto his hand, thoroughly coating his fingers. He pulls them out and licks one finger clean. He reaches over your body, tapping his finger against your lips and you take it into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it.

"So sweet, mami." He says as he pulls away and scoots down, coming face to face with your wet cunt. "I want a better taste..." He suddenly flattens his tongue against your core and begins to lick a stripe, collecting most of your juices only for your body to produce more of it. He grabs ahold of your thighs and gives them a light smack every time they try to close around him. You're panting as he continues his assault on your pussy, feeling another orgasm quickly approaching.

"I'm close a-again, papi," you moan out. When he adds his finger again, you're cumming around him again, clenching hard. You feel a little lightheaded after your last orgasm, which was stronger than the first one. "Papi..."

"Hmm?" He hums against your core, tongue not letting up.

"I want you to... fuck me please." You reply, the feeling of his tongue getting to be just a little overstimulating. He pulls away just a little and looks at you.

"But I am, amol, mira," he drags his finger against your walls.

"N-no, not with your fingers."

"Do you want my mouth?" He begins to lower his head again, tongue poking out ever so slightly to brush against your sensitive clit.

"No... I want... Necesito tu polla, papi, por favor!" You raise your voice. He smirks, satisfied with your answer, and makes his way up your body. He rubs his tip against your entrance and you jerk at the sensation. You know that he won't go easy on you for the last round, and it's going to take all your energy away. He pushes in, your juices from your two orgasms making it easy to slip himself in all the way. Once he bottoms out you both moan. Your hands feel weak from being tied for so long and you tug at them, knowing it wouldn't do anything. Zabdiel begins to move his hips, pulling out slowly and pushing back in slowly. He makes sure you feel every inch of him against your walls. He leans down and his voice makes the hairs on your neck stand.

"Come on, nena, you can cum one more time, right? For me?" He whispers, lips attaching to your neck as his hands grip the sheets. His thrusts are stuttering and he is getting close himself, from both teasing himself earlier and your tight walls. You don't hold back on being vocal, telling him how good he feels inside you and how you like it when he dominates you. With you whispering dirty nothings into his ear, it serves to bring him closer to the edge.

Shifting his weight to his forearm, one hand slips down your bodies and lands a smack on your ass that echoes in the room. You moan loudly and he repeats the action a few more times, your pussy clenching him tighter each time. You're clenching hard around him and he's losing his rhythm, so he moves his hand in between your bodies to rub at your clit while whispering, "Look at you; taking all of me like a good girl. Such a good girl."

You feel the knot snap and your strongest orgasm yet overtakes you. Your back arches slightly, as much as you can while still being tied up, and you let his name fall off your lips like a prayer. He watches in awe as you come undone beneath him. Seeing you like this, knowing he was the one to bring you to this point, is all it takes before he coats your insides and collapsing beside you. He leans up beside you and unties your hands, tossing the silk somewhere behind him.

"Was that too much?" He looks at you with concern in his eyes. You cup his cheek and kiss him on the lips. When you pull away, you reply.

"No. I would tell you if it was too much. In fact, I would probably let you do this again." His eyes widened slightly.

"You would?"

You shrug and smile. "Yeah." You yawn and collapse on your side. "But right now I'm tired as hell and you have another busy day tomorrow." Another yawn interrupts you again and you relax into the bed. Zabdiel moves close behind you and wraps his arms around your middle, pulling you into his chest, spooning you. You close your eyes and sigh contently, letting yourself drift off into sleep.

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

Taglist for Let The Games Begin: @the-secret-within​ @hvpefulaurora @spicyarreagaa​ @tearsonthestars​ @cncogirl18​ @katherine01x​ @jacy2202​ @cnco-cnco​ @princesstiffxoxo​ @h-bea92​ @daydreqmings​ @richardscurls​ @ratchet-sebooty​ @samverstrepen​ @anevayys-writings​ @ccnicole02​ @lyr1ssasims​ @thatbiicth​ @cracraforfandoms​ @all-fandom-writing​ @meacamara​ @rosebud213​ @mind-of-tavia​ @cracraforfandoms​ @cinnaberice @papichriscnco​ @kmsmedine​

[telesthisia]

Remember that Pokemon AU I made long ago? Yeah, me neither but I decided to revisit and revise it after staying up until six AM because hell brain loves not letting me have sleep. I’m actually happy with how everything winded up this time around, if this AU strikes your fancy and you wanna collab or something I’m always down to chat things out!! Whether you want your muse to know Zel or be a gym leader/part of the elite four or just some average joe trainer I’m down!! Sooooo let’s go over some things, shall we?

So let’s start with the easiest, her team! I believe for her first AU, I made them psychic? I think? But here it’s all spooky scary ghost type, baby!!  She has Spiritomb, Dusknoir, Sableye, Mimikyu, Cofagrigus, Gengar, and Cursola! She doesn’t have an Ace, as she considers them all her aces, each pokemon has their own strengths and weaknesses and she tries to keep track of in order to come up with unique and tricky strategies to wipe the floor with you. As such her team is made up of feared opponents and it’s tough to say which pokemon is the toughest due to her ever changing strategies but it’s best to agree that they are all tough as hell. That said she had Gengar for the longest, having known him since he was a Haunter. He’s a bit of a malicious pokemon, often liking to play vicious pranks on unsuspecting people, though Zelda says it’s out of affection and his way of making friends; this statement is ambiguous considering how nasty Gengar can be to anyone who’s not Zelda ;v; he’s very loyal to her though and rarely will you see him in his pokeball. And yes, she spoils all her pokemon equally; she loves them all and will insist that they are just as cute as a Pikachu or Skitty despite how infamously creepy they all are and the fact that some of them can and will curse you. 

SHE’S THE SEVENTH GYM LEADER BABY!!!!! That’s right, a gym leader not some trainer! Let’s have some fun and indulge ourselves with this AU. So, Zelda comes from a region known as Hyrule which is rich in history. Though not a princess, she does have the neato title of: Ghostly Princess of Fantastical and Phantasmagoric Battles! She’s known for being the second most tough gym leader of her region, people more often fail getting past her before going to the final gym and then the champion and elite four. But, just because she’s tough to beat does not mean she’s impossible! She resides in the humble village of Kakariko. 

Her gym is actually really scary, we’re talking silent hill levels of scary. It looks like an abandon building perhaps built in an older era due to how antique it is, with paint chipping off the walls, paintings that have eyes following you, a dinky flashlight acting as the only source of light (unless you have flash than you’re set), some areas have tight spaces and hallway and the trainers hiding in the darkness ready to surprise you for a battle. Ghosts haunt the area so don’t be too surprised if you hear random noises, feel a sudden chill or come out with scratches. It makes battling her hilarious though since the last thing you’d expect is a petite girl in pastel with a bright smile encouraging you to do your best before beating your ass with cursed pokemon. Her gym is a dreadful place and it’s not surprising to see people go in there in groups of two or with their pokemon by their side. 

She has a natural kinship with ghosts overall, coming from a family of mediums/Channeler class on her mother’s side. As such she possesses sensitive PSI (sadly no telepathy in this verse u-u) she’s not only surrounded by ghost pokemon but also by human spirits; these ones are harder to see if you do not have medium abilities. That being said, she was subjected to possession when she was younger, but she’s more or less learned to not get possessed by the spirits as she grew. It’s almost impossible to take pictures with her or of her because of the ghosts surrounding her, but usually the sixth picture is the lucky shot where there’s nothing creepy going on in it. 

Already well-known thanks to her Dad, considering he’s the CEO of a tech company that ensures only the best technology for Trainers to use on their journey. So, heiress of a famous company. Some expect her to take over but Zelda has no plans of becoming the next head of the company nor is her father pressuring her to do so. Her mother passed long ago but at least in this AU her Dad is still alive so she actually has her family here :’) 

Though a gym leader, she’s not always inside her gym often liking to explore the region of Hyrule instead and visiting the Pokemon Tower to pay respects, it’s usually Impa that’s dragging her back by the ears to go battle challengers haha!! While responsible enough to uphold her duties as Gym Leader, this isn’t really her end goal in terms of career. She’s actually a college student studying to become a historian! Once she’s finished with her studies, she’ll probably go to the league to give up her position for the next in line. Usually she opens up before cramming for exams ;v; 

Speaking of which, she become stressed during exam periods and well, usual horde of ghost pokemon becomes bigger as the result. So if the townspeople of  Kakariko see a giant group of ghost pokemon surrounding a certain tiny blondie they assume that it’s testing time and go about their day LMAO. 

Annnnd that’s it! Here’s her design for the AU, I tried to stick to pokemon art style but it hard ;v; also no cool pointy elf ears for her how sad... but the general idea of her outfit is: Cute! Like Jasmine and her little sundress ;v; 

[creamypalazzo]

as to cater to my lack of sleep I ended up becoming very hyper aware of a song that got stuck in my head, and it’s called god is fair, sexy, nasty by Mac Miller, and it’s a song in my jotakak playlist that elicits incredibly h0rny + romantic energy that I wanna believe is also up to par with jotaro and kakyoin’s relationship in my o p i n i o n because I am in love with them and they are in love and babies and in spite of the very hypersexual lyrics here I also wanna be inclusive to the romantic expressions here and there that also perfectly match up to mu headcanons of their relationship lmao,, also do note that I like bottom jotaro and this is also mostly in Kakyoin’s perspective so it’s also what made the song contribute so well and I Am Like This Because God Made It So and it’s ok.

actually what I wanna talk about before the lyrics is the segment of jazz that plays before it delves into mac’s usual r&b/hip hop instrumental, it’s supposed to set the mood smoothly and because of that, all I think about is the thought of jotaro and his love for jazz that is also never really regarded by a lot of fans. It’s an unusual trait considering the Everything that jotaro is but I love to see it as a way that Kakyoin doesn’t Ignore that part of him and knows how he fully is- Jotaro isn’t completely cold and edgy and bitter, he still has a brighter side to him, and his love for him is what makes him so seen.

funny enough, there wasn’t much background to the song aside from the chorus itself from kendrick lamar, though that does save me enough time and I’ve only done the better reading to understand the first chorus, which is this:

apparently for a time, Kendrick suffered immense survivor’s guilt and trauma that happened when he was younger, amidst all his success he still suffered a lot of issues that his partner had continually supported him through the rougher times- all the violence he suffered from has cultivated all into the “bullet” where his partner is represented as a rose, and their love has been the reason he’d been able to get through his issues. It’s also continued to the rest of the chorus, being together and folding into each other’s desires is also a parallel to Kakyoin and Jotaro’s relationship, where the hardest come down they’d know each other so well, so intimately, to be able to find each other in ways that they���d only ever know.

tbh probably one of my favorite things about Jotaro’s relationships is that they’d always always always emphasize his beauty- he isn’t all his beauty, but the fact his personality is practically worn on his face is what makes it. To me, Jotaro is forced to be fully aware of his features from the attention he’s gotten, but with his intimidating demeanor it also gets pointed out too because, 1) fear is an aphrodisiac, 2) it makes him so much more powerful that way, to be beautiful and feared is probably a feeling that he doesn’t get to understand would be so good, honestly, but to think that Kakyoin would take the sight of him in, would make him feel like he’s been looking at a god. Ironically, a god that would definitely make him commit sins and defilings of desires he didn’t even think he’d have on Jotaro, but here they are. Kakyoin would be mesmerized, especially with being an artist, he could paint him, paint on him, his body and his face is a work of art that subjects him into a place of some kind of worship because it definitely deserves it, but Kakyoin’s got desires that even makes the devil shiver.

This is probably one of the verses that struck me the most, and I say one of because there’s actually more to it. There isn’t any background as to, say, if this song was about anybody in particular, the only song in the album that was actually mentioned to be about someone entirely was Cinderella (and that shit got wild real fast lmao). But to know that this was probably about someone who was cold, who definitely had issues too? God. Jotaro is cold, when it comes to his feelings he honestly will probably not keep up with them. It makes him turn away from people who he should have been vulnerable around, who he’s allowed to be weak around, but he wants to hide it and shows it constantly, sex or not he’s probably always into the rougher things as to compensate. I like to think Kakyoin is there to test it- aside from the actual connotation, relationships always test people to how they become better than they used to be, it’s not just a test for each other but it is a test for themselves, in the name of love and the loves of their life, it’s a matter of asking, what do you want to do? Is it for them, or yourself? And in this case, ‘take my time, hit that slow’ shows off the contrast to what Jotaro normally ventures off to. Jotaro would have to adjust for that and also be made to understand what Kakyoin would feel, think, in the pace that he, for once, would want them in. Jotaro can finally learn, in and out of sex how he should consider the most out of Kakyoin- I know events of SDC would say that he does consider a lot because of Holly, but he doesn’t exactly have easier times reading his friends or family and most of the time does stay in a self-indulgent bubble where he doesn’t really know how to treat people’s feelings other than the ways he knows how. Kakyoin is a test to it, and Jotaro follows because he has the need to understand it, to know him.

You’re the only thing for me in this fucked up world is also a really painful statement, to me at least. It hits hard with the fact that Mac and Ariana later broke up because of their relationship turning toxic, I know he didn’t make this song for her but to know this statement was written out of his heart is what makes the genuity. Kakyoin, as we know has mostly been alone his whole life. He never really got to be vulnerable around other kids and his only friend was his stand that way, only being able to cope with his excess time with the fact that Hierophant could help him play video games better and that was probably just how he spent it. Alone, definitely unused to company that felt like he knew him. Enter Jotaro, new to stands, just as socially inept, same liking to sumo, gorgeous as hell and checking every box that Tenmei Kakyoin didn’t even know he had. He saved him from a lifetime of pain and suffering, saw a part of him that also made him understand that they weren’t alone. They’re the only two kids in a world of war and other dangerous things, the fact that they both don’t know how to interact with each other like normal people do is both hilarious and endearing, but it’s made better by the fact that it makes them understand and like each other. It’s almost like a matter of fate that way, because honestly, how long would have Kakyoin gone if he hadn’t met the Crusaders? He fell into Dio’s hands so quick because Dio could understand him, see right through him with his desperations and loneliness, but later fell for Jotaro because it’s all genuine, and a person that Kakyoin has learned to love because they didn’t know how to get to each other until they had to learn how.

And do you believe in love? Is another part of them. I never thought that Jotaro nor Kakyoin would honestly think of it, they had other shit to think about and it was definitely not girls, Kakyoin probably had a thing for h3ntai (I had a running joke somewhere that he was ripped because he kept jerking off lmao) but I doubt he ever indulged in the romantic areas, he never cared about it in particular until Jotaro came around to make him realize, oh, this was a crush. I always headcanoned that Jotaro was gay: he wasn’t exactly growing up in the best time to think about it, nor did he really like girls, his next best big brain moment was to probably ignore the feeling and just believed that girls were a whole no. Well, yes, the annoying stalkers mostly were at fault, but it made him not like the appeal of them, where he didn’t understand how boys would look at girls and drool over their thighs, where girls would fight about whose chests were smaller, because girls were just so boring and annoying to look at. It’s boys on the other hand that always had his attention. Many of the guys in his school probably would have been excited/terrified that the cool, smart Jotaro Kujo would approach them, and probably take him in as his friend or probably pick a fight, but in reality, he just didn’t know how to approach someone attractive, let alone someone of the same gender when his relationship with his father continually strained. So then he thought over it, a lot. Holding hands with a boy, kissing a boy. Hooking his arm around one, holding onto him no matter what. For a time he thought he just couldn’t be in love, it was just that he didn’t like the idea of it being with a girl, that was all.

Hold on tight when demons come / It’ll be alright, no need to run / Stay with me tonight, we’ll see the sun / And when we wake up we’ll still be drunk Ah yes, this verse analysis is going to be very long as I Analyse this until I pass out from sleep deprivation. These two lines are a combination of what I’ve said in both the previous paragraph and fourth one, reiterating my statements again, but I think this is the dawning of their trust with each other when they finally get to like each other. They both need someone they can trust and understand, but it’s Jotaro who has to be the one to not run away from it while Kakyoin is the one who holds on tightly because he’s never had this at all before. Someone like him has definitely developed attachment issues that way, and he’s not letting Jotaro get away from something that he knows they both need. Hence the cuddliness in the last three: Never felt this free before / I need you more than keys and doors / I need you sleepin’ next to me

You know by this point in their journey you wonder how deprived of touch everybody is, but especially with Kakyoin and Jotaro being together now this seems to end up as a way to deal with touch starvation with each other. I doubt both would be used to any of the contact, but it’s Kakyoin who’s trying to be more enthusiastic with it while Jotaro is also trying to adjust himself even though he doesn’t quite have any idea of what to do. But they try, try a lot, and Kakyoin finds that he enjoys holding Jotaro and Jotaro’s learned to love feeling and being held, being loved by this boy, no less. It makes them miss each other more every time they stay apart, the fact that Kakyoin got his ass handed to him back in the desert is also what makes it difficult, every time Jotaro visits him in the hospital Kakyoin would probably take his hand and hold it close to his face before kissing it, always so impatient and probably a bit horny and inappropriate than he needs to be and most of all lonely— and jotaro in turn would direct him to his lips where they’d always kiss softly, slowly turning desperate, both just progressively careless in the predicament with Kakyoin only being able to navigate Jotaro’s neck and jaw with kisses, Jotaro trying so much as to not lift the hospital gown and instead holding his scalp while he presses kisses all over his face, and sure it’s only been probably a week or so but they missed each other so god damn much, Kakyoin missing cupping Jotaro’s cheek and taking in the absolute sight of how beautiful he always is, but while he’s recovering he’s just glad he could still be able to touch him.

(You shy,) you don’t reveal too much / (No lies,) don’t hide your self at all / (Where’s your—) I just can’t help but fall / (It’s true,) and I’ve tried everything / My sexy, nasty thing / is actually the set of lines that hits the most here tbh. They carry the same sentiments that I’ve said in my fourth paragraph and supposedly should have been my previous one if it weren’t for the fact that that shit got deleted and all but I guess my WiFi just wouldn’t work yknow,,, anyway by this point I don’t believe that this is because of any clothing related reveal situation whatsoever, I like associating this with the idea that Jotaro’s so used to shutting his feelings out that it’s so difficult to express them, but anytime he sees Kakyoin he’s just so . unused to feeling free and allowed to be able to see him in this light while Kakyoin is made to be so aware of it. It makes Jotaro feel naked, even if they have their clothes on, he may not be that expressive but Kakyoin’s found himself starting to recognize the building looks that Jotaro’s giving him, hooded eyes or widened ones where he looks so curious and stunned. If Jotaro would be made too aware of it his pride makes him swallow and look away, but a lot of the time Kakyoin, even so overwhelmed and flustered, would encourage him not to be ashamed of it, to be vulnerable to him because he loves the feeling that the way he looks at him is actually being returned. They love each other, even if they were young they knew it was love. It was so perfectly destined that God had to be the one to cut it short. 

There’s a line from a JotaKak doujinshi in particular that somehow manages to hurt me to read every time called Let’s Meet at The Usual place; it’s a doujinshi presenting memories of Kakyoin and Jotaro’s relationship where they realize they like each other (yes there is a lot of sex but yeah), and the very last line is Kakyoin’s final message when looking back to them:

I don’t like being lonely, so please talk to me from time to time. There’s a story that I don’t know, so let’s meet at the usual place. 

Now, I bring this up, while also crying, because at a point, Kakyoin’s childhood problems have definitely affected him badly growing up. It’s considered that he has a lot of obvious signs of clinical depression, which is a topic that can be discussed here, but I wonder how frequent he could go into these episodes? Did he ever take meds? I know I’ve had a fair share to this kinda shit but god damn, it’s mentioned in the link above that it probably ranges in a severity, and it makes sense! How many episodes has he gone through it alone? How long did he have to believe that he was alone, considering he decided outright he could never be friends with someone who can’t see his stand? It’s emphasized a lot that if it weren’t for the stands, Jotaro and Kakyoin wouldn’t have been friends at all. I just think: With the presence of the Crusaders, he definitely developed a peace of mind. 

Why do I say this? It’s mostly taking into consideration with the way Mac handles his feelings: he gets really emotional when he’s high- in this case, even if Kakyoin hadn’t been using his meds, how emotional can he get in episodes or developing episodes in particular? How far do these go, and how much does it trouble Jotaro that he doesn’t even know what to do? I wanna believe that for the most part, he’d feel better, definitely a lot better, even in his episodes he could look at Jotaro and realize that he’s waited far too long for somebody who could understand him, who could see him, taking him to a place where he feels warmer, happier, and he would hold Jotaro close to him and realize he has more than just thanking him for literally saving his life. Jotaro would be everything to him. 

Honestly, I don’t think Jotaro has carried similar feelings of loneliness, but he had a feeling of want to this. He knows his desires, he knows what he likes, who he loves, most importantly, but he realized that without Kakyoin’s presence it’s suddenly so boring and sad without him. In a way he feels scared, even though he knows Kakyoin is strong enough to handle himself, his worry manifests in a way that he knows that it’s how his mother could worry but it just can’t be helped.  

Will you come home with me? Hits HARDEST, especially, I know a lot of this is sexual undertones but as I’ve repeatedly stated, god damn does the change in context make it hurt, like there’s definitely been a lot of talk and a lot of promises that were made for when they come back home, Jotaro would have wanted to bring him home to Holly where she’d be safe and sound, and he knew for a fact that seeing her again, with the idea that she’d be overjoyed with them being together has given him something so pleasant. 

But Jotaro could never have that. He never got to say goodbye, or save him in time. For the longest time, Jotaro has realized that there was nobody that was going to make him this happy. 

And, really. Nobody could do it like Kakyoin, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be happy again. 

[icyharrington]

Heaven In Hell (Michael Langdon X Madison Montgomery X Reader)

this is....very nasty. enjoy :) i didn’t proofread this too hard lol so i apologize for that but hopefully y’all like it anyway lmao

plot: michael langdon has come to save you from your own personal hell, and he has madison montgomery in tow. you both decide to thank him for his efforts.

warnings: fem!Reader, f/f/m threesome, hawthorne!michael, blowjobs, lesbian sex, cunnilingus, sexual intercourse, face riding, spanking, murder(lmao), and the works lol

word count: 5.1k

tags: @chloerrose @pastatophhistory @lttlcoven @prettykitten123 @langdonsrapture @thefakestthot @obsessivenostalgicbaby @cerrychenly @babyhoney-coco @helloitsmestar @80seddie @lambofcairo @jcshadowkiss-blog @kinkylangdon @belusima @errmynee @casualtears @madhatterweasley @meeeeeeeeeps @sassylangdon @langdonsdemon @princessd1e @laurahollislovescarmilla @speakingofmemess @sodanova

Knock knock knock.

You were lying on your back, staring up at the discolored, cracked ceiling above you when you heard it. You hardly reacted, just barely turning your head to one side, cheek brushing the foul-smelling pillowcase propped under your neck. Somehow, each time you attempted to change the pillowcase, it ended up smelling even worse than the last. It was frustrating, considering the only other place you could possibly sleep was the floor, and you’d seen roaches scuttling across the carpet one too many times to feel comfortable doing that. It made sense to you, though.

This was hell, after all.

You’d been trapped there ever since you’d attempted descensum during the seven wonders test with the rest of your coven; you had no idea how long ago it had even happened. In hell, there was no division of day or night- only endless hours ticking on for all eternity. For all you knew, the world could be burnt to a crisp. It didn’t matter; you were going to be stuck here forever. At this point you’d gotten used to it.

Knock knock knock.

The knocks came louder now, and you scowled, imagining your seedy landlord standing outside, holding your eviction notice in one hand. It happened so frequently that you’d stopped being affected by it: he’d tell you that you hadn’t paid your rent in months, and you’d cringe at his lower row of crooked yellow teeth and the foul smell of his breath. Maybe you can convince me not to evict you, though, he’d say, coming closer to you, making you gag as his filthy hands reached out to brush your skin. And then you’d scream at him to leave, and then it would happen all over again.

You grunted, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, scanning the floor for any sort of crawling creature before you set your feet down. Pulling your moth-eaten sweater tighter against your body, you shivered, because of fucking course it was perpetually winter in your personal hell, and of course the heat was always turned off.

Knock knock knock.

“I’m coming,” you shouted, turning the doorknob and yanking it open.

There was your landlord, scraggly porn-stache and all, his beady eyes wandering over you with the discretion of a twelve year old boy.

“Let me guess,” you said in a monotone, crossing your arms in front of you. “I haven’t paid the rent in three months.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to evict you,” he said. You mouthed the words to yourself as he spoke, having memorized them from hearing them so many times before. He said the exact same thing every time- you would’ve thought that there would be a bit more variety in hell, but apparently not. “Unless…” he ran his tongue over his thin upper lip, wrinkles in his face deepening as he gave you a coy smirk.

“I wouldn’t touch your shriveled dick with a foot-long pole,” you said flatly. He hardly reacted, only taking a step forward into your room, liver-spot covered hands reaching down to grab at his crotch. He licked his lips again, and you expected him to continue on with his attempt at seduction, but instead his head was jerked back by his hair, the assailant obscured in the shadows. You watched in shock as a blade was then yanked harshly across the man’s throat, ushering forward a fountain of blood as he let out a pathetic gurgling noise. He dropped to the ground limply, revealing in the doorway a man that you didn’t recognize.

He was handsome, with well-styled blond hair and angular features. He was dressed in all black, save for a white collar, which was accentuated with a neatly tied ribbon. He took one look at your slack-jawed expression and smirked, folding his hands behind him.

“Hello, (y/n),” he said calmly. “My name is Michael.”

“You’re- you aren’t…from here,” you mumbled, eyes wide as saucers, unsure of what to make of all this.

“So you know where you are?” Michael asked, tilting his head to one side. You couldn’t help but admire the beauty of this man, mouth nearly watering as you regarded each perfect feature of his face. It’d been so long since you’d actually seen someone other than your landlord, who you were sure had been designed specifically by Satan to repulse you.

“Hell,” you said.

“Mhm.” He looked down at the landlord’s body with a disinterested expression, carefully stepping over him to join you inside the tiny apartment. His pale eyes scanned over the contents of the room, which wasn’t much; his lips turned down slightly in disgust, taking in the stained walls and dirty carpet, and you almost felt embarrassed, as if you had any sort of control over this place. “You won’t be for long, though. I’m the man that’s gonna get you out of here.”

You narrowed your eyes, searching for any hint of jest beyond the man’s stoic face, but there was none. “That’s impossible,” you said softly, but you were hopeful, perhaps against your best interest. This was probably just a sick joke, meant to throw you off and make you think you had a chance of escape before tearing it all away.

His lips curved up slightly, and you drew in a breath. “I have someone here with me who might convince you otherwise.”

He held his hand out towards the door, and from the shadowy hallway, sprang a petite blonde. And not just any petite blonde, you quickly realized.

It was Madison fucking Montgomery.

Jumping over the limp body of your former landlord, she pounced on you before you had time to say anything, squeezing you so tight you could hardly breathe. Immediately you reciprocated, burying your head in the crook of her neck. She smelled exactly as you’d remembered, like hairspray and expensive perfume, and you sobbed into her shoulder as she pulled you against her.

“(Y/n), I can’t believe I’m actually seeing you again,” she sighed, pulling away to look at you. God, she was beautiful, and you couldn’t believe you’d almost forgotten. Her large brown eyes were rimmed with tears as she stared at you, plump bottom lip wobbling despite the huge smile on her face.

“Madison,” was all you could muster, all at once overcome with happiness, laughter spilling past your lips uncontrollably. “What the fuck is going on?”

“I was in hell, too,” she said. “But this guy came and saved me. And now he’s gonna save you.”

“You died?” The last thing you remembered, Madison had gone to perform descensum with the rest of the coven. Had she gotten trapped, too?

“Long story,” she said with a dismissive eye roll, reaching up to wipe away her tears. “What’s important is that we’re both getting the fuck out of here.”

She took a second to look around the room, scrunching up her face as a roach made its way past her foot and towards the bathroom. “I honestly didn’t think anything could be worse than my personal retail hell,” she remarked. “But this is pretty fucking close.”

“I know, right?” you said, unable to stop yourself from running your hands up and down Madison’s slim hips. It was hard not to indulge yourself in human contact after spending an eternity in hell, especially when you were being visited by the girl you used to fuck regularly back on earth.

You and Madison hadn’t ever established your relationship when you were alive; she was always your best friend, who you just so happened to have a lot of sex with. Sometimes you’d cuddle afterwards, and you’d definitely harbored feelings for the bitchy blonde, but you were never willing to admit it to yourself.

“I missed you so much,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around your neck. You looked at each other for a moment before she pressed her lips against yours, wasting no time before parting her lips and easing her warm tongue into your mouth. You gasped at the feeling, digging your fingers into her hips, almost entirely forgetting that the two of you weren’t alone.

“Fuck, baby,” she said, moving her lips to your jaw and sending vibrations through your body. “I missed that, too.” She brought her hands from around your neck and onto your breasts, squeezing them hungrily through your sweater.

You shifted your gaze towards Michael, who was standing off to the side. “Madison, can we… can we wait til we’re alone?”  

“Why?” she breathed, trailing kisses down onto your neck. “I wanna fuck you now. Right here in hell, baby.”

You couldn’t deny the aching sensation that had begun to make itself known between your thighs, but the thought of this all happening in front of someone was a little too much, even for you.

“What about…” you said, voice trailing off when you turned to look in Michael’s direction. His face was devoid of any expression as he looked off to the side awkwardly, but you could tell he was somewhat uncomfortable.

“What about what, baby?” she said, biting your earlobe and pulling at it. “I’m sure Michael wouldn’t mind seeing two hot girls fucking. I’ll bet he’d even wanna join in.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you saw Michael jerk his head towards the both of you, a light flush crossing his cheeks.

“And I think he deserves a thank-you for rescuing us, don’t you think?”

You chewed your bottom lip, considering this. You hardly knew this man, and you’d never been involved in a threesome before, but the idea was no doubt turning you on. You shifted, becoming painfully aware of the moisture soaking through your underwear, and you felt Madison’s hands move onto your ass.

“O-okay,” you said finally. Fuck it, you thought. What did you have to lose?

Madison beamed, before turning around and making her way over to Michael, blinking innocently as she reached for his hand.

“What do you say, daddy?” she cooed, bringing his fingers to her lips and taking two of them into her mouth. Michael seemed stunned, but from the growing bulge in the front of his trousers, it was obvious that the idea had excited him. Making a show of sucking Michael’s long fingers, Madison allowed her eyes to flutter shut as a soft moan left her mouth.

He hummed, leaving behind his momentary shyness in favor of a more confident attitude. “I suppose it’d be nice to be thanked for my efforts,” he said, voice rich and smooth and low. Madison smirked, pulling his fingers from her mouth with a pop, and without missing a beat dropped onto her knees in front of him.

She turned to you, lips twitching as she worked open the front of Michael’s pants. “Come on, (y/n),” she said, working the material partly down his thighs and hooking her fingers into the waistband of his boxers. “We have some thanking to do.”

Timidly, you joined Madison on your knees, blushing when your eyes met Michael’s hooded ones. He had a cocky half-smile across his full lips, and you certainly couldn’t blame him; he had two girls in front of him on their knees, practically begging to suck him off. What other response was there besides being cocky?

Madison pulled down his boxers, letting the fabric bunch up with his pants around his muscular thighs. His cock sprung free, fully hard, and you and Madison exchanged an eager glance at the sight. He was big, that was for sure, with beads of precum leaking down from the flush head. Madison leaned forward and darted her tongue out, lapping at the precum and wrapping her fist loosely around his base.

Desperate for a taste of him, you craned your neck and took one of his balls into your mouth, reveling in the salty flavor of his warm skin. He hissed at the sensation of two mouths on him, Madison’s eyes rolling back into her head as she slid her head further down on his thick cock. She dropped her hand down, placing it instead on your thigh, and you took the opportunity to administer slow licks onto his veiny shaft.

“So desperate to taste me,” Michael groaned, and you returned your attention to his balls, working at one with your mouth while you cupped the other in one hand. You kept your eyes open, watching Madison in awe as she took his entire length into her mouth, nose brushing the soft blonde tuft of curls at his pelvis. “Good girl.”

He thrust his hips forward slightly, wrapping his fingers around the base of her blond ponytail and tugging her towards him. A muffled choking sound escaped her throat, but she continued on like a pro, bobbing her head up and down and letting him brush the back of her throat every time.

Suddenly she pulled back, taking him out of her mouth but lingering at the flushed tip, licking across his slit one final time.

“C’mere, baby,” she said to you hoarsely, moving to the side so you could take her place. You scooted over, wasting no time before taking hold of Michael’s length; Madison stroked your hair, gathering it behind you and holding it out of your face as you took several inches of him into your mouth. His cock was already wet with Madison’s saliva, but you didn’t care- you circled your tongue lazily over the head, eyelids drooping as the taste of his skin filled your mouth.

You heard Michael exhale loudly, and then he laced his fingers through your hair, guiding you all the way down his cock until you reached your hand. There was a shuffling noise as Madison let go of your hair and moved around beside you, and you peered over to find her undressing herself. She’d removed her shirt already, leaving her in a simple nude colored bra, and was already working off her unfashionable work pants that somehow still managed to look good on her.

You took your hand off of Michael’s length so you could take more of him into your mouth, instead placing it on his hip, tears prickling your eyes when you felt him reach your throat. Madison had done it so effortlessly, even looking pretty while taking cock deep into her throat, and you couldn’t understand how she could be so perfect at everything she did. You were struggling, reminding yourself to take shallow breaths in through your nose, jaw aching as you kept it unhinged. Still, though, you were enjoying yourself, and the way you were making Michael moan.

You felt saliva begin to dribble down your chin as Michael bucked forward into you a few times, yanking your hair at the root painfully so you couldn’t move away. He was grunting noisily, pushing himself deep, your fingernails digging into his skin hard enough to leave marks. Then, unexpectedly, he pulled out of you, his massive cock gleaming with spit in front of your face. You averted your gaze up to him, blinking a few times to rid your eyes of the tears, and he flashed a smile so subtle you almost thought you’d imagined it.

“You two. Get up,” he said, his tone authoritative and even. You jumped to your feet, maybe with a bit too much enthusiasm, because he chuckled, his eyes glinting mischievously as Madison followed suit. She was only in her underwear now, nothing remarkably sexy, but in all honesty, everything looked sexy on Madison Montgomery.

Madison took your arms and adjusted you to face her, proceeding to tug your sweater off over your head, leaving you in a simple cotton bra. Next came your leggings, which she shimmied down your lower body, and you kicked them haphazardly to the side.

“What do you want us to do, daddy?” she purred, twirling her hair around one finger and batting her eyes. You sank your teeth into your lower lip, pressing your legs together in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing between them.

Michael’s lips twitched, reaching down to pull his pants back up and tuck himself inside. “I want you to show each other how happy you are to be reunited.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice; Madison embraced you, planting a sloppy, wet kiss on your lips. She moved with the kiss, easing you back towards the bed, hands groping hungrily at your thighs and ass. She paused to bite your lower lip, rolling it between her teeth while turning the both of you around so that she was sitting on the edge of your bed. You straddled her, her hands instantly finding their way onto the soft curves of your ass, lips attaching to the delicate skin above your collarbone. Snaking her hands around to your back, she expertly unclasped your bra in a matter of seconds; you drew away, giving her room to slip the garment off entirely, exposing your hardened nipples to the cool air.

“Fuck, I missed you,” she mumbled before licking your nipple, your body erupting in goosebumps at the warm sensation. She nipped slightly at the peak of your skin, making you squirm, and then moved on to suck gently on your areola.

“God, Madison,” you whispered, rolling your hips instinctively so you could feel the friction of her thighs against your crotch. She inched upwards to the skin above your nipple, giving you an open-mouthed kiss before applying suction, obviously intending to leave a hickey. Madison had always loved marking you, and you loved being marked; the more bruises you were left with, the better.

She nibbled on you, jolting you with both pleasure and slight pain, darting her tongue over where she’d bitten afterwards. Then she brought her head up from your chest to meet your eyes, and you brushed your lips against hers once again, teeth clashing as the kiss became rough and needy.

She held onto your waist, falling backwards onto the bed, pulling you on top of her in the process. Moaning into her mouth, you reached between her legs and palmed her through her dampened underwear, so worked up that Michael was only an afterthought.

You broke the kiss and turned over your shoulder, shooting Michael a coy look, excited to see his reaction. He was standing a few feet away, digging the heel of his palm into his bulge, light eyes fixated closely on you and Madison.

“Go on,” he croaked, wetting his lips. He nodded his head, urging you to continue on, and you slipped yourself off of Madison and stood up at the edge of the bed.

“I can’t wait to finally taste you again,” you said, gesturing for Madison to move further up on the bed. She did, eyes glazed and heavy-lidded as she surveyed you, gripping the sheets until her knuckles turned white. You joined her back on the bed, kneeling on the edge as you admired her petite body, cream colored skin smooth and soft. You crawled your way up between her legs, giving gentle kisses to her jaw and neck until you reached the front of her throat, administering a slightly harsher nip, allowing yourself a few moments of distraction to leave a blooming bruise there.

She was always so responsive to your touch, writhing beneath the weight of your body and throwing her head back into the pillows. You pulled her bra straps down her slender shoulders, hoisting her up slightly to undo the clasp. She finished taking it off, flinging the bra onto the floor, and for a fleeting moment you remembered that technically, you were about to have sex in a dingy, dirty apartment infested with roaches.

Whatever, you thought, traveling down Madison’s body, slipping down her underwear and leaving her bare. None of this place is real, anyway. It’s just hell.

You kissed her stomach tenderly, creeping downwards to reach her pelvis and then her inner thighs, intentionally avoiding her dripping center for the time being. Reaching underneath her thighs and wrapping your hands around to get a good hold, you opened her legs, blowing cool air onto her slit. She whimpered, entwining her fingers with your hair and pulling you towards her.

“Please,” she whined, spreading her legs further, and you slid your tongue along the innermost part of one thigh teasingly. She whimpered loudly, tightening her grip on your hair, and without warning you plunged yourself forward.

You licked up between her folds, taking one hand from her thigh and instead using it to spread her outer lips as you swirled your tongue over her opening. She was so wet, her juices were starting to leak down her inner thighs and onto the sheets below, and you dipped your tongue past her entrance, reveling in her taste.

A string of expletives left her mouth, chest rising and falling as she fought to catch her breath, and you pushed your tongue further inside her while using your hand to rub small circles on her aching clit.

You felt the bed dip behind you, and then a pair of large hands grasped your hips firmly; you were pulled upwards, your hips high in the air while your face remained buried in Madison’s heat, shivering when Michael poked at your ass with his freed erection.

You heard Michael inhale sharply, his hands tracing down your spine and onto the small of your back before he slid his cock down through your folds and pushed the head against your opening. You groaned lowly against Madison, repositioning your head so you could focus on her clit, forming shapes on it rapidly with your tongue.

Michael sighed, entering you with one hand on your ass cheek. Your mouth fell open, forgetting about Madison as you felt your tight walls stretch for the first time in an eternity. “Fuck,” you muttered, pressing your bitten red lips against Madison’s clit, eliciting a rapturous moan from the brown-eyed blonde.

Testing the waters, Michael rutted his hips delicately, getting you used to the feeling of his cock inside you. He was massive, to the point where it almost hurt the deeper he went, but your natural moisture made it far easier for him to start sliding in and out. You tried your best to remain composed as you worked at Madison’s clit, bringing one shaky hand to her opening so you could slide two fingers inside of her, but it was hard not to let out a moan at the snug feeling of Michael’s cock. He clutched at the padded skin between your hips and thighs hard enough to bruise, snapping his hips forward forcefully, and you cried out.

It wasn’t long before Michael was fucking you hard and deep, pushing into you with thrust after ruthless thrust, eyes rolling back into your head as your fingers continued to pump sloppily in and out of Madison. With each sound that passed your lips, you’d send vibrations up throughout her, your tongue swirling over her bud as her entire body tensed and shook.

This was crazy, so fucking crazy, but you were in hell and nothing made sense and right now, nothing mattered but chasing your pleasure. You bucked your hips back towards this enigmatic man, your supposed savior, and it occurred to you that you didn’t care if this was all just a figment of your imagination, if he really had no real intentions of saving your soul. This, alone, was enough for you.

“You take— my cock—so well,” Michael panted, his words breaking up with each decadent thrust of his hips. Your pace quickened inside Madison, no longer in full control of your actions as Michael worked you open, hot cheek pressing against Madison’s slim inner thigh.

He landed a harsh slap onto your ass cheek and you whimpered, the stinging sensation shooting straight down between your legs and only intensifying the wetness there. Upon seeing your reaction, he took a fist full of your ass in his hand and spread you, digging his fingernails into your skin with enough force to draw blood.

“God,” you rasped, your entire body shifting up the bed, scissoring your fingers apart inside Madison before adding a third. Madison’s moans were rampant now, high-pitched and shameless, her fingers tweaking her perfectly upturned nipples as you worked at her.

Abruptly, Madison took you by your hair and brought you away from her wetness, taking a few seconds to catch her breath before speaking. Chest rising and falling, she looked at you through lust-filled eyes, gesturing towards Michael who had stilled his cock inside you. “Do you mind if I steal him from you? I’ve been craving dick for the longest time.”

You laughed, nodding as Michael slipped out of you, your juices dripping down your legs. You wanted to whine at the lack of penetration, but you knew that Madison would make it up to you soon enough, and it would be worth the wait. Madison slipped herself off the bed, looking deliciously debauched with hair in disarray and lips glossy with spit, and you followed, finally able to get a good look at Michael.

His lightly gelled hair had softened from its hold, falling in loose waves around his face, framing his chiseled jaw. He’d apparently undressed himself fully while you and Madison had been on the bed together, his naked chest glowing with perspiration. He looked godlike, on his knees with his legs parted, cock hard enough to brush against his flat stomach and glistening with your juices.

“I’ll take over from here,” said Madison as she cocked her head to one side, oozing confidence and power. That’s my girl, you thought to yourself, feeling a fresh wave of arousal wash over you as she climbed back onto the bed, pushing Michael onto his back and kneeling on either side of his torso. If Michael was a god, then Madison had to be a goddess; she reached up behind her to take her hair down from its modest ponytail, shaking it out so it fell over her shoulders in silky waves, smirking down at an entranced Michael beneath her. “(Y/n), come here, and let Michael taste you.”

You obliged, getting back on the bed and adjusting yourself over Michael’s head; he ran his hands up along the plush outside of your thighs, and you winced when you felt him stroke at the spots he’d grabbed earlier, surely having left deep purple splotches in the process. You lowered yourself down onto his face while Madison did the same on his cock, holding onto his thick shaft as she eased herself onto him.

The noise was vulgar and wet; she glided down onto him without any resistance, Michael’s moans reverberating throughout you when his mouth reached your folds. He took a long lick up between your outer lips, growing impatient soon after and bringing you to fully take him over, his mouth completely devouring you like he was starving.

Madison took to bouncing on Michael’s cock, clearly experienced in this; her small, rounded breasts bounced obscenely, and it took everything inside you not to close your eyes as Michael lapped wildly at your center. She was so fucking beautiful it was surreal, looking like an angel from a Renaissance painting as her curvaceous hips rolled with Michael’s pelvis.

Michael left one hand on your hip, using the other to grope Madison’s tits without much finesse, thumb roughly caressing her nipple. His mouth was almost as good as his cock, and it was difficult not to lose control and completely suffocate him, his tongue maneuvering between your clit and folds skillfully.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Madison praised, impaling herself deeper on Michael and circling her hips to feel every inch of him. This caused Michael to groan loudly against you, your breath hitching and head tilting back towards the ceiling- you knew you were close.

Madison took both of your clammy hands in hers, guiding them up to her breasts as Michael moved his hand back to your hip, and gratefully you palmed them, her fingers loosely settled around your wrists. You leaned your upper body forward upon seeing Madison do so, and she kissed you, running her tongue along your puffy lower lip and jamming it between your teeth impatiently as both of you used Michael’s body.

You swallowed Madison’s moan, her breaths quickening, and you could tell that she, too, was close; you bit her lower lip and pulled it back towards you, massaging her breasts in your hands, sweat trickling down your forehead.

A pair of large hands forced you down so you were entirely on top of Michael’s face, his tongue reaching parts of you that you didn’t know existed, and then a cacophony of colors erupted before your eyes; a white-hot sensation enveloped you, and for the first time in an eternity, you orgasmed, incoherent words leaving your lips and falling into Madison’s opened mouth.

It took you a long time to recover, and by the time your vision had un-blurred, Madison and Michael had both had their own respective orgasms. You wished you could’ve seen Madison as she was pushed over the edge, but you knew when you returned from hell, you’d have all the time in the world to watch her cum over and over and over again. And for that, you were beyond grateful.

You got up off of Michael, his plump mouth gleaming from having been buried between your thighs, hooded eyes vacant and drooping as his pale chest rose and fell. Madison removed herself from him, bending down to place a chaste kiss on his lips and running her tongue across her top lip.

“You taste just as good as I remembered, baby,” she said, raising one eyebrow at you suggestively, and you just shook your head and laughed. Michael twirled his wrist limply, still wiped out from his climax; on cue, the three of you were dressed again, this time in far nicer clothing than before. You considered questioning this ability, but then remembered he had literally been able to descend into hell to save you- you doubted there was anything he couldn’t do.

Michael got off the bed and stood up, examining his arms for any creases in his jacket. Then he smiled, appearing unaffected by what had just happened, cool and composed in his exterior. He extended his arms towards the both of you, indicating for you and Madison to latch onto them, and you did. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” said Madison with a scoff. “I can’t wait to get out of this shithole.”

What a perfect last day in hell, you thought, as Michael shut his eyes and began to recite something under his breath. You took in a breath, and all at once the world dropped dead.

When the light seeped back in, you felt a soft breeze against your face, pure and soft. You didn’t need to adjust your vision to know you were back on earth. Back home.

The eternity had finally ended.

[dxmagedrose]

GET TO KNOW THE BLOGGER!

Tagged by: my lover @hammurabicomplex​ I’m tagging: anyone and everyone who wants to pick this one up! share with the class if you feel like it! tag me in it!!

PRESENTING. RANDOM DEEP DIVE WITH INDIGO-MUN AT 2AM ;

FIRST NAME Good fucking question… It’s (sort-of) currently Dylann! I was Kieran before that, though; it’s still used as one of my first names and I’m not used to Dylann quite yet bc I’ve just started using it. 

Indigo is one of my middle names though, and I’ve used it as an online handle elsewhere forever so I use it here now!  [ Fun etymology facts: Dylan(n) is a mythology name generally meaning “born of the wave” (aspiring diver & a water witch at heart). Kieran means “little dark one” bc of my love for horror, && I chose Indigo bc as a kid to be it was neither boy (blue) or purple (girl) and was both and neither as well as my absolute favorite color as this vibrant ass mystical color. ]

STRANGE FACT ABOUT YOURSELF hmmmmm…. I’m a horror lover at heart, so as a child (I wanna say 12), I was walking through an antique store (I have a few cool finds, I considered putting my other one as the fact tbh) and I turned the corner and I saw these two dolls staring back at me at the foot of the stairs of this antique building. my blood froze, and i felt my stomach drop. i got actual, physical goosebumps stumbling across these two creepy dolls staring back at me in the corner, and i couldn’t leave the store without them. perhaps the little painted porcelain boy would be somewhat spooky by himself if it wasn’t for the terrifying lidded gaze of the porcelain girl with the hairline fractures and slightly open lips. i cant look at her. i dont really find dolls scary, I like to find the spookier ones ones, and she makes me paranoid as hell. i keep her face covered and her up in my closet except for when i bring her out to show her off proudly as the spookiest thing I have but……. i dont really collect dolls anymore.  even thinking about her brings a fearful tear to my eye.  i don’t like to think about her for very long, but that’s why I’m so fucking proud to own her. ( YES — I’m THAT white person in the horror film )

TOP THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU FIND ATTRACTIVE ON A PERSON hhhhh a beardy jawline, high cheekbones, crooked canine teeth >:3c

A FOOD YOU COULD EAT FOREVER AND NOT GET BORED OF b.l.t.’s with avocado. ahhhh. my mouth is watering just thinking about it, oh my god. just a bit of salt and pepper???

A FOOD YOU HATE barbecue anything, i hate the taste of bbq sauce, you keep your nasty black goo to yourselves at the grill. twice in my life i have presented with barbecue pizza and both times i cried literal tears. why would you do such a horrible thing to a person? what kind of a monster are you? how do you sleep at night?!

GUILTY PLEASURE the sims. constantly. always. i’ve sunk thousands of hours into my households. oh also uhhhhhh i run two 80s horror blogs, one being a shitpost blog with occasional art of mine and one gremlin fanfic ship blog for horrible, terrible self indulgent fanfics i’ll get the courage to finish writing & post so i can be cancelled on tumblr for at some point. NO, i won’t link them. as i pretend they’re even all that hard to find, within a day i was found on both by someone i admire here a lot :’) ilu bby thnk u eternally for supporting ur local horrifying dumbass wtf

WHAT DO YOU SLEEP IN the same clothes i’ve been wearing all day usually, my sweats & long sleeve raglans or my hoodies. i like being cozy day & and out. and ugh. efoort. just throw me in a blanket in a cool room and im out.

SERIOUS RELATIONSHIPS OR FLINGS serious relationships with some openness or poly. i wish i could fling! just not exactly easy for demisexual autistics lmao.

IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN THE PAST AND CHANGE ONE THING ABOUT YOUR LIFE, WOULD YOU AND WHAT WOULD IT BE I think I would be adopted by my grandma as a kid. It would save me some trauma but mostly I think it would get my autism diagnosed way earlier and save me angsting all these years of wondering why & thinking it’s my fault I’m struggling so much and so loud and affectionate and different in a world that i didnt fit in the same way. 

ARE YOU AN AFFECTIONATE PERSON when i get drunk i text people how much they mean to me in my life. does that answer your question? ahhh. i’m sometimes a cuddle monster with friends, i message people with long texts about how much they mean to me, but I sometimes really don’t like to be touched at all. 

A MOVIE YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN FLYPAPER.  F L Y P A P E R.  FLYPAPER.  FLY, and, I can’t stress this enough, fucking PAPER. ( Though also Whole Nine Yards and both Re-Animator & Bride ). I have watched Flypaper already like, 5 times this week and I’m still not done, and the other movies have been on repeat for days in this household within the last year. In the past it has also been Donnie Darko & the new Nightmare on Elm Street.  roast me.

FAVORITE BOOK White Fang by Jack London. Have I actually ever finished it? No. Do I still own a copy I’ve had since childhood thru multiple dogs eating it, taking it to and from school, and highlighting and circling all the best parts of chapter one ever since I was a kid and it was too hard of a book for me to read? You bet your ass. If I ever need inspiration I just reread chapter 1. Although one of my other favorites was Broken Monsters by Lauren Beukes. But White Fang is like, a weirdly personal text. We stan London’s writing in this household.

YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO KEEP ANY ANIMAL AS A PET, WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE FENNEC FOX!! I used to daydream about having my own named Shiloh when I was a lil kid. they’re adorable little things and i am obsessed. i mean, gimme any fox and im happy, marble foxes, red foxes… but I was obsessed with fennec foxes. Also tbh ferrets. I want a ferret.

TOP FIVE FICTIONAL SHIPS [IF YOU ARE AN RP BLOG, YOU CAN USE YOUR OWN SHIPS AS WELL] Rosa & @ninetyscnds‘s Luke, Rosa & @iimpulsivity is already screaming my name, Rosa & Constantine, Jesse & Andrea from Breaking Bad, and the joker and harley of 80s sci-fi Dan & Herbert from Re-Ani.  I am but a simple opossum. 

PIE OR CAKE Pie! I’ll take both pumpkin & melty apple over cake. also, cheesecake is more pie than cake soooo, pie wins.

FAVORITE SCENT my dogs / my blanket. :’)  It’s the most grounding smell in the world. 

CELEBRITY CRUSH oliver jackson-cohen, i’m fucking GAY and im angry about it. there i was, minding my own business, and i saw that asshole in a certain SHIRTLESS GIF and it AWOKE SOMETHING IN ME. dont talk to me about it, holy shit im obsessed with beardy men now god fuckkdafjaask i hate him why did he make me this gay i was perfectly fine being into girls but NOOOOOO him and his dumb hairy chest and sweet rugged face and I——  I also am obsessed with the archaeologist & television personality Josh Gates and may or may not be considering making a fan blog for him bc idk if my anthropology docuseries host is Dad or Daddy but i love him lots

IF YOU COULD TRAVEL ANYWHERE, WHERE WOULD YOU GO I would go on a dive with anthropologists and archaeologists doing fieldwork research in the ancient cenotes of the Yucatán Peninsula. My actual dream job, catch me crying & fantasizing about being underwater documenting Mayan skulls given as offerings. Fuckkkk, I love anthropology so much!!  take me anywhere in the world to immerse myself into culture & archaeology.

INTROVERT OR EXTROVERT Introvert. I have a real life friend I see roughly once a month, and that’s it. Plenty of online relationships, I’m chatty, message me all day every day. but i dont do people well.

DO YOU SCARE EASILY I used to! Really bad. I don’t as much anymore. I do get paranoia a lot still. Having therapists telling you that the FBI could be outside your house watching you through your windows will kind of nervous. ( no google results for: yes hello fbi i am a writer please dont put me on watchlists i just have research i need to do for this idea im working on, would you like to try again? ) I have nightmares nightly but not they never make me afraid, they just make me feel like crap. jumpscares and loud noises and seeing people reaching into their pockets dont set off as many brain alarms anymore tho!! progress haha.

IPHONE OR ANDROID I like my android better bc of capabilities but meh

DO YOU PLAY ANY VIDEO GAMES My mom, her husband & I play COD for family game night, and Silent Hill is my life’s blood. I’ve sunken hours into Sims & Skyrim, and Norman Jayden from Heavy Rain is my #1 fictional character in existence, why do i love the druggie babies

DREAM JOB Oh… You’re asking me to pick? I’d love to be an anthropologist doing work out in the field. Underwater archaeology is peak, but I’m also heavily considering being a body recovery diver or police diver. I’d love to see myself in uniform someday, if possible. Just the thought makes me teary eyed & proud.

WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH A MILLION DOLLARS fund my person creative & educational endeavors. get myself a spooky ass abandoned house to make my own home to create in, and travel to the world’s best dive sites. just live a mild life of education, creation & exploration. that’s the dream TM.

FICTIONAL CHARACTER YOU HATE dr. hill is a gross and whiny lil bitch this post brought to u by the miskatonic crew, how is everyone here an even worse bad guy than herbert west precious dan excluded talk shit get hit tho john winchester from spn and both walter white & todd from breaking bad are all in my crew of hated characters. i jusT…   the reani novel is difficult to read because i have to deal with this old sack of shit.

FANDOM THAT YOU WERE ONCE A PART OF BUT AREN’T ANY LONGER Supernatural :-)

… AND THIS CONCLUDES A DEEP DIVE WITH INDIGO!! //