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#but that was the ''appropriate'' way to show it
xxbimbobunnyxx · 2 days
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Older!DinerOwner!Eddie x Fem!Reader
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This is for my 1.6k celebration based on the prompt “make me” requested by @gri959 ❣️
Summary: You’ve been fucking your boss for almost a year now and he still won’t make it official, so you decided to take matters into your own hands. Wk: 1.5k
Warnings: Age gap(Eddie is early 40s reader is mid 20s), jealous/possessive Eddie, spanking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, breeding kink. 18+MNDI!!
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You were driving Eddie absolutely insane, and you knew it too. It was like somehow your little work dress seemed even tighter tonight and the way you were walking around swinging your hips, leaning down on your hands in front of customers faces, giving them a nice little peek at your perfect tits.
It didn’t help that you were being extra flirty with the new line cook, Alex. He was your age and he honestly kind of reminded Eddie of himself when he was younger. Why would you want him when you could have the newer model? But despite his insecurity that was rearing its ugly head, Eddie knew he had you wrapped around his thick ringed finger and that you were just doing this to rile him up.
“When you’re done with this table, come talk to me.” Eddie brushes past you while you’re taking an order, leaning down to whisper in your ear. You make eye contact with him just long enough for him to see you roll your eyes as he’s walking off.
“What’s up?” You walk over to where Eddie is standing behind the counter near the register and look up at him all innocently, which you are far from.
“What’s up? You know exactly what’s up, I know what you’re doing, quit it out.” Eddie looks down at you through slanted eyes, his tone a gruff whisper.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about? I’m just doing my job.” You raise an eyebrow at him and set your lips into a mock pout.
“Drop the innocent act. You’re trying to make me jealous, just admit it.” He smirks at you and leans down further than is probably appropriate for a boss and employee, but he honestly doesn’t give a fuck, it’s his diner, he can do whatever he wants.
“Why would I be trying to make you jealous? There’s nothing going on between us, right?” You turn your head slightly, lowering your voice even more to make absolutely sure only he would hear. “It’s just physical, right? So why would you be jealous?”
“You know what?” Eddie’s jaw ticks as he exhales through his nose. “I want to talk to you in my office after we close.”
“Yeah? About what? I have plans.”
“And I don’t care. I’m your boss and I need to speak to you about something regarding your job. Now get back to work.” He walks off, not giving you time to argue further.
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“Okay, what’s the deal?” You walk into Eddie’s office, pushing the door closed behind you and stand in front of his desk with your arms crossed.
“Are you serious?” Eddie scoffs, abandoning the document he was signing on his desk in favor of glaring up at you.
“Umm yeah? You told me to meet you here and you didn’t say why so I’m asking what you wanted? Pretty normal if you ask me.” You shrug and Eddie swears he can make out the faintest hint of a smirk on your lips.
“Oh, sweetheart, don’t play games you know you’ll lose.” Eddie chuckles, pushing up from his chair to come around and lean against the desk in front of you. “You really thought you were being sneaky? Prancing around here like that, bending over right where I can see, flirting with my employees, did you get a new bra? I’m not blind, baby.”
“Like I said before, there’s nothing going on between us… so… why would you be jealous?” You fully smirk at him now and god he wants to wipe it off your pretty little face.
“Just admit it, you were trying to make me jealous.” Eddie returns your smirk with one of his own as he leans back on his hands and crosses his legs. He’s so hot in those black Dickies work pants and his non-slip converse. He has on his restaurant manager shirt that accentuates his toned chest and shows off his thick tattooed arms. His hair is in that low bun that you love to rip out when he goes down on you and his facial hair is just a little longer than usual. Fuck.
“Why don’t you just admit that you were jealous then?” You give him a pointed look and he exhales through his nose because he’s about at his limit with your attitude.
“You know what? Bend over the desk.” He steps to the side, patting his hand against the wood.
“Why don’t you make me?” You roll your eyes, a dry chuckle escaping your lips, and that’s his final straw. He closes the distance between you and laces his fingers through your hair, pulling your face so it’s inches from his as his glowers down at you with his honey eyed stare.
“I said bend over the fucking desk.” He says your name through gritted teeth as his grip on your hair tightens, causing you to whimper, your bratty facade already breaking. “I’m not going to ask again.”
“Fuck, okay.” He releases your hair and you whine as you walk on already semi shaky legs over to his desk, laying your top half across it, causing your dress to ride up and show off a sliver of your panties. “If you weren’t jealous you wouldn’t be all worked up like this so maybe you should just -“ your sentence is cut short when a harsh smack lands on your ass, making you yelp.
“Drop the attitude, doll.” Eddie’s hand pushes your dress up to reveal your plush asscheeks and tiny lacy underwear that barely cover anything. He pushes himself against you, his already hard cock brushing up against your barely covered pussy. His hands grip onto the globes of your ass, kneading it and shaking it in his palms. “I don’t know why you’re walking around here trying to act like this ass doesn’t belong to me, you know it does.”
“Maybe you should just get over yourself and make me your girlfriend then.” Your snarky tone earns you another spank, rougher than the last.
“What did I say about the attitude?” Both of his hands come down on your ass, his rings stinging against your skin causing you to moan. He does it again. And again. Until he starts to see faint welts from his rings and the marks of his handprints.
“This ass is mine.” One of his hands travels down to cup your pussy, thrusting the heel of his palm against your clit. “This pussy is fucking mine. Say it.”
“Admit you were jealous then.” Your voice comes out way whinier than you’d hoped, it practically sounds like you’re begging him as you subconsciously grind down against his hand. “Say you’re mine too.”
“You want me to be yours, baby, huh?” He pushes your panties to the side and runs his fingers through the slick lips of your pussy before bringing the tips of his fingers to your clit, circling it. “Tell me who owns this pussy then. Tell me and I’ll give you this dick.”
“It’s yours, Eddie, it’s all yours, m’yours.” You sound cock drunk already and he’s barely even touched you but you don’t even care. You want him so bad. You’re putty in his hands and he knows it.
“Yeah, that’s right baby girl, I fucking own you.” You hear the clanking of his belt before you feel the tip of his cock running through your folds, he collects your wetness, using his hand to jerk it along his shaft. He pushes his tip in, pulling it back out a few times before slamming into you. He starts fucking into you at a brutal pace, the desk sliding against the floor, your hips slapping together.
“Fuck, fuck yes, feels so good.” He’s so deep from this angle, practically bullying your sweet spot as your hips dig into the wood of the desk.
“Yeah, that’s right, take this fucking dick baby. This is my pussy, you’re so fucking tight, damn.” One of Eddie’s thick inked arms laces around your shoulders, pulling you up so your back is flush against his hard chest while his other finds your clit, his thumb rubbing quick circles against it.
“Oh god - fuck, fuck Eddie, I’m gonna cum.” You’re practically drooling as he plows into you from behind, he shoves his hand down your dress and into your bra, expertly finding your nipple and tweaking it between his fingers. “Shit, I’m cumming, tell me you’re mine Eddie, please, need to hear it.”
“I’m yours baby, this dick is fucking yours, pussy feels so fucking good squeezing me like that.” Eddie buries his face in the crook of your neck, placing sloppy open mouthed kisses there. “Gonna fill this pussy up, paint those pretty little walls, maybe I’ll knock you up, then everybody will really know who I belong to.”
“Yes, fucking fill me, fuck a baby into me, want it so bad.” Eddie groans, his hips still against yours as his cock twitches, ropes of his cum spilling inside you.
“Fuck, baby doll, fuck.” Eddie breathes heavily as he pulls out of you, grabbing onto your hips to flip you around. He reaches down between your legs, gathering the cum that dripped out so he can push it back inside of you. “Wouldn’t want any to go to waste, would we?”
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Divider is by @strangergraphics & older!Eddie edit is by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 days
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hey !! i saw your batboys headcanon thing ( plus jaime ) about how clingy they would be ,, but do you think you could write a reaction for them ( and jaime if you'd like as well idm ! ) to if they dated someone who wasn't that fond of physical touch / affection ?
like how it would affect the way they show their love and stuff !!
thank you so much, love your works xx
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For DAMIAN nothing much would change, after all physical affection isn’t his forte and completely understands why you don’t like it as much, for he certainly didn’t unless it was the occasional heat of the moment type of thing; then he’ll act like he never did hug/ touch you with flustered cheeks.
Damian’s primary love language was acts of services with a minor in gift giving because he always comes to you with a drawing he’s done recently, and practically pushed the piece of paper into your hands where you were greeted with the most beautiful sketch of you in existence. He’s not great with words as he often comes across as blunt or overly sarcastic, but when he’s reprimanding you about appropriately clothing yourself for the weather as he’s adjusting your scarf or whatever, it’s a sweet act disguised as annoyance.
Damian shows his care in a unique way but you could’ve have asked for a better partner.
For JAIME he respects that physical contact may not be your thing and will resort to vocalising his affection and love for you. After all Jaime came from a household of familial love and affection, so he wanted you do something for you where you knew where his mind was most -if not- all the time; on you.
He will shower you and praise you with love no matter what and will not allow a single negative thought to pass through your pretty head, not on his watch and Khaji-Da will gladly offer their own words of affirmation but they come out as more ‘crush your enemies to dust’ or ‘show them that you are far better then those weak willed insects and will not submit to their own self projection.’
You understand where Khaji-Da was coming from, even if it did come across as threatening, but Jaime will always reword it into something more positive and meaningful such as; ‘you’re amazing and I love you, you’re killing it my love!’ Or ‘you already know your worth so why let others people try to determine it for you when you’ve already go what most people want. Heart, passion!’ And so on.
For JASON physical touch was his way of reassuring himself that you weren’t going to leave, that you were alive. So when he found out that physical touch wasn’t your most favouriting thing, he was more than willing to resort to his secondary love language; quality time.
Jason loves spending as much time with you as he can and will do so as a substitute for physical contact out of his love and respect for you and your boundaries. If anything quality time with you also helps in reassuring him that you weren’t going anywhere and that you were alive, even when your both sat in comfortable silence doing your own things, it relaxes Jason’s oftentimes frantic mind and allows him to breath and live in the moment knowing that you were very much safe from all harm in your shared apartment.
For DICK physical affection was his primary love language and he loved letting the people he loved know he was there for them by a few simple touches, it didn’t require him to use his words, despite being quite the flatter for when he did.
So when he noticed that you weren’t exactly reciprocal of his touch, Dick knew he had to switch to his secondary love language which was words of affirmation, which often came out a lot flirtier then it probably should, but Dick was use to doing so just to get on someone’s good side and get them to lower their guard but never towards his adoring partner whom he cares very much for with his whole heart.
Vulnerability, communication and commitment weren’t his strongest suits unfortunately but he tries for you, he truly tries with every sweet word that left his lips to make you recognise that you and a place within his heart, and that’s all that would matter in that moment as he’s looking at you with such caring and loving eyes.
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incognitopolls · 1 day
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Received a question "Any tips for starting up a poll blog?". The question was off anon, but for reasons related to my final point, I've chosen not to include the asker's identity.
Keep it as simple for yourself as you can. Some general things…
If you want lots of traction, avoid putting yourself in too small of a niche. If you don't care about reach and just want to post some fun polls, go as niche as you like. There just won't be as much buy-in for a blog with an extremely narrow focus like "Do you like this food from the 1870s?", but that's fine if that's what you're passionate about.
Tags are your friends and will be one of the primary ways your polls reach people until you have a large following. Tag appropriately (don't spam tags that aren't relevant), but tag liberally.
I use xkit rewritten to add all the basic tags that get added to every poll, so I only have to add content-related tags to each one as needed.
Keep extra media, links, etc to a minimum. I don't think it's generally necessary for every post to include a photo banner* or links to submit questions, etc; the more things you add to your "template," the more work you have to do for each poll, and it adds up! Also– there was a time where posts with links wouldn't show up in searches. I don't believe that's still the case, but I tend to avoid including links anyway unless they're necessary support for the topic.
*Re: photo banners/photos in general, it is a good rule of thumb to add descriptions to all images. Accessibility is important in and of itself; it also broadens your blog's reach by enabling more people to engage with your posts. To repeat the last point, the fewer images and banners you include, the less work you have to do specifically on adding descriptions.
If it ever becomes not-fun, you don't have to keep doing it.
I would only ever recommend running a poll blog to people who plan to run it from desktop. The poll editor on desktop is much, much easier to use than the mobile one.
And finally– it may not be every poll blogger's preference, but I highly recommend maintaining some level of anonymity. You don't owe anyone any details about who you are, and it helps give you some space at the end of the day to disconnect from public perception and pressure.
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theetherealbloom · 1 day
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CLOSE TO YOU
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Summary: A commute crush turned meet cute with Pedro Pascal
Paring: Pedro Pascal x Fem!Reader
Warnings: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, Commute Crush, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Meet-Cute, Swearing, Anxiety, Surrounded by A-Listers, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Alcohol, Club/Bar Setting
Word Count: 2.2k
A/N: Happy Close To You release day! I’ve waited for this song since 2018 LMAO. Usually, I don’t write about real-life people, but I really can’t help it since this song is SO Pedro Pascal-coded. Just know that this is fictional and if this isn’t for you, you don’t have to read it! Keep scrolling :> And for those who stay to read this delusion of a fic, hey girlieeee I see you <3 
P.S. I’ll be doing a bunch of fics related to Gracie’s new album that comes out next week!
Song: Close To You by Gracie Abrams
| Main Masterlist |
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It all began as a harmless crush on your morning commute. The New York subway was your daily stage, a bustling backdrop as you headed to meet a client. As a social media coordinator, your days revolved around managing high-profile partnerships, coordinating with celebrities and Instagram influencers to craft campaigns that seamlessly blended their brands with consumer appeal. 
But today was different. And of course, you recognized him. 
You noticed him immediately – Pedro Pascal, seated right in front of you. Lost in his book, with a iced quad espresso in a venti cup with extra ice and six shots cradled in his hand, he exuded an effortless charm. His dark, curly hair framed those whisky eyes that glanced up and met yours. Just for a second, you were frozen in time, captivated by his gaze. You quickly looked away, not wanting to seem rude, yet feeling the familiar flutter of a crush brewing.
Did he smile? You swore he did, and your heart skipped a beat. The train doors opened, announcing your stop. Reluctantly, you stepped off, joining the throng of commuters spilling onto the platform. As you ascended the steps, the city's vibrant energy washed over you, but your mind was elsewhere.
Walking towards the restaurant for your client meeting, your thoughts kept drifting back to him. The way his presence ignited a spark within you, a longing that seemed almost irrational. Here you were, burning for a man who didn't even know your name. And yet, in the anonymity of the subway, a fleeting connection had stirred something deep inside you.
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It had been a few weeks since that subway encounter, the memory of Pedro Pascal’s whisky eyes lingering in your mind. In the meantime, you had started managing social media for Sarah Paulson, whose busy schedule had her juggling multiple projects and interviews.
Sarah's latest project, a Broadway play titled Appropriate, was garnering critical acclaim and several award nominations. Your job was to promote her involvement, ensuring every post captured the essence of her talent and the play’s success. Though you hadn't been working with her long, you were pleasantly surprised when she invited you to watch one of her performances.
That night, you arrived early at the Belasco Theatre, adorned in your favorite long dress and practical flats, mindful of the commute back to your apartment. Ushered to a seat close to the front, you settled into the plush red velvet, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation. As the audience trickled in, you busied yourself with casual texts to friends before putting your phone away, taking in the theatre's intricate architecture and the stage's grandeur.
Moments later, an usher guided someone to the seat next to you. Curiosity made you glance to your right, and there he was—Pedro Pascal, settling in beside you. Your eyes widened in recognition before you quickly looked away, a quiet panic bubbling in your stomach and tightening your chest. You fidgeted with your fingers, a nervous habit, trying to quell the flurry of emotions and resist the urge to stare.
As the house lights dimmed and the show began, you couldn’t help but steal occasional glances at him. The man who had unknowingly captured your heart was now mere inches away. The performance on stage was captivating, but you found yourself equally entranced by the man sitting next to you. In the soft glow of the theatre lights, you wondered if he remembered that brief moment on the subway, and if fate had just given you a second chance to connect.
When the show ended and the cast took their bows, the theatre erupted in applause. Pedro, sitting right next to you, cheered loudly when Sarah stood with the rest of the cast on stage. His genuine enthusiasm for his friend made you smile, and as you glanced at him, he looked down at you with a radiant grin. 
Your heart raced, and for a moment, you felt a concrete connection that was almost tangible. Both of you opened your mouths to speak, but just then, an usher cleared their throat, drawing your attention.
“Mr. Pascal, Sarah Paulson is asking for you backstage… if you would follow me, please,” the usher said, causing Pedro to hesitate, torn between staying with you and fulfilling his friend's request.
“Uh,” Pedro began, glancing between you and the usher. Seeing his dilemma, you made the decision for him. Gathering your things, you offered a polite smile to both Pedro and the starstruck usher.
As Pedro glanced back at the usher, you seized the moment to make your getaway. You might have heard him call out, "Wait!" but you didn't stop. Stepping out onto the bustling street, the city lights of Broadway twinkled around you, a stark contrast to the growing ache in your heart.
The possibility of what might have been gnawed at you, the fleeting connection slipping through your fingers. A voice in the back of your mind echoed doubts, whispering that you didn't quite belong in this world of beautiful, glamorous people. You tried to shake off the feeling, but the bittersweet sting lingered.
You begin to walk away from the theatre, weaving through the crowd lined up for autographs by the backstage door. Just as you're about to cross the street to catch your subway, your phone vibrates in your clutch. Stepping aside, you see Sarah Paulson’s name flashing on the screen.
Shit. 
You quickly answer, praying your voice doesn't betray your nerves. "Hello?"
"Hey!" Sarah's voice is warm and enthusiastic. "How are you? Did you enjoy the show?"
"Yeah, I did! You were absolutely incredible," you say, offering genuine praise and shifting your weight to your other leg.
"Thank you so much! Oh, where are you right now? Are you still nearby? I had told the usher to bring you backstage with Pedro, but it seems like they forgot."
"Oh, um, yeah, I'm near the backstage door," you reply, glancing at the crowd still waiting for autographs.
"Perfect! Some of us are going out for drinks later, and you are welcome to join us!" Sarah’s excitement is infectious.
You stammer, "Uh, I..."
"It'll be great! I promise. I'll introduce you to everyone. You're my best social media manager by far."
Taking a deep breath, you muster, "Okay, yeah, I'd love to come."
"Great! I'll send you the address of where we're headed. We'll meet you there!" Sarah says, her smile practically audible.
"Alright, see you soon." You end the call with a click, clutching your phone tightly as you take another deep breath to steady your nerves and keep the world from spinning.
A ping alerts you to a new message. Glancing at the notification, you read the address and know exactly where to go. With a mixture of excitement and anxiety, you put away your phone and head towards the bar, the city's lights guiding your way.
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It took you a while to figure out how to get there, but eventually, you arrive at the bar. As you step inside, a warm hum fills your body, the lights and the pulse of music thrumming through the room. The smoky, dark atmosphere feels electric, bodies moving in a rhythm that seems to make the air itself burn. 
Under the soft pink light, everything seems slightly surreal, yet oddly perfect. You spot Sarah, who immediately pulls you into a warm hug, which you happily accept. As you exchange pleasantries near their table, you feel at ease, enjoying the camaraderie. 
Then, suddenly, you sense a shift. You glance up and see Pedro looking right back at you. Your heart skips a beat as your eyes meet, and in that instant, the crowded room seems to fade away. 
There he is, the man who had unknowingly captured your heart, his gaze steady and intense. As Sarah guides you over to introduce the rest of her friends, castmates, and of course, Pedro, you feel a pull between the two of you.
You muster the courage to speak, telling him your name, and even through the loud speakers and endless chatter, you hear him say your name with a breathless relief. Finally meeting the mystery girl he saw on the subway seems to have stirred something within him.
When you shake hands, there's a lingering touch, a silent acknowledgment of the connection between you. You can't help but duck your head a little, feeling shy under the intensity of his gaze. 
"Nice to finally meet you," Pedro says, his voice soft yet filled with warmth.
"Likewise," you reply, your own voice tinged with a hint of nervousness.
In that brief exchange, you both sense something unspoken, a silent understanding that this meeting is more than just chance. And as the night unfolds, amidst the laughter and music, you find yourself drawn to him, unable to resist the magnetic pull of fate.
As Sarah goes to mingle with the rest of the group, you both stand there, caught in a moment suspended in time. The air crackles with anticipation, and you can't shake the feeling that if you asked him to, he'd give up everything just to be close to you.
"You have a way of lighting up a room," he says, his voice low and full of sincerity as he leans in closer.
A blush creeps up your cheeks at his words, and you find yourself smiling despite yourself. "And you have a way of making me feel like I'm the only one in it," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.
As the night wears on, you find yourself completely enchanted by Pedro. His easy charm and quick wit captivate you, and it's as if the two of you are in your own little world, separate from the chaos of the club.
He tells you stories about his acting career and his passion for music. You share your dreams and aspirations, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence that you've never experienced with anyone before.
Throughout the night, there are moments where your hands brush against each other or your eyes meet in a lingering gaze. Each time it happens, a spark of electricity shoots through your body, igniting a fire within you.
At one point, he leans in closer to whisper in your ear over the loud music. "I have a confession to make," he says, his warm breath tickling your skin.
You turn to face him, your heart racing with anticipation.
He chuckles softly, the sound sending a delightful shiver down your spine. "I can't deny that you've caught my attention since the moment I saw you on the subway."
The admission sends your heart racing, and you can't help but feel a surge of boldness. "Funny, because you've been on my mind ever since," you confess, meeting his gaze with newfound confidence.
His eyes light up with a mixture of surprise and delight, and you can't help but be drawn to the way his lips curl into a playful smirk. "Is that so?" he teases, his voice a low, husky whisper that sends a shiver down your spine.
You nod, feeling a rush of exhilaration coursing through your veins. "Absolutely," you reply, unable to tear your gaze away from his captivating stare.
Before you can say another word, he takes a step closer, his movements slow and deliberate, like a dance choreographed just for the two of you. Your breath catches in your throat as his hand brushes against your neck, sending tingles of anticipation racing across your skin.
And then, in a moment that feels like it's been plucked straight from a romance film, his lips meet yours in a soft, tender kiss. Time seems to stand still as you melt into his embrace, the world around you fading away until there's nothing left but the two of you.
As you pull away, breathless and exhilarated, a sense of euphoria washes over you, like a chemical override in ultraviolet. "I just wanna be close to you," he murmurs, his words sending a thrill through your entire being. A smile dances at the corners of your lips as you revel in the electric connection between you.
"And you could be mine tonight," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, the words tinged with a hint of playful flirtation.
He chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling with affection as he leans in closer. "I think I could get used to being yours," he says, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity, melting away any lingering doubts or fears.
He can't wait to fall in love with you.
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thefallennightmare · 3 days
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Cock Warming: Matt Dierkes[HC]
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@thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @concreteemo @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @thatchickwiththecamera @itsafullmoon @shilohrosechicken @klutzy-kay24 @shadowseve @burning-outx @lookwhatitcost @exitwoundsx @thisbicc @pathion @cookiesupplier @sammyjoeee @whenthesummerdies @flowery-mess @xxkittenkissesxx @its-inourblood @madomens @darling-millicent-aubrey
Did I roll out of my comfy bed to sit at my computer to write this? Yes. Please blame( more like thank @lma1986 for this little late-night impromptu headcannon)
SMUT BELOW THE CUT!
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"Please baby," Matt's softly cooed in your ear, his fingers ghosting over your stomach.
It was hard to hear due to the noise of the boys performing their set but Matt made sure he was close enough.
"Matt, what if someone sees us?" You looked over your shoulder at him.
The two of you were in the sound deck while he worked Bad Omens show for the night, their set just started a few minutes ago and Artificial Suicide was blaring throughout the venue.
He nodded towards the side of the sound deck you two were in. "The walls are high up on the side. No one will know."
What started off as you asking your boyfriend if he can show you how the front-of-the-house stuff works somehow turned into Matt asking you for something you never expected.
You stood in front of him closer to his equipment while he caged you in from behind, warm breath fanning your ears. But you had to admit, the idea he proposed made your insides burn and pussy clench.
I mean, you were already wearing a skirt so it would be easy access for him.
"Only if you beg again," you winked.
Matt's chest rumbled before he spun you around to face the stage again, calloused hands smacking your ass.
"Please baby, let me fill you up with my cock," he nibbled on your ear lobe.
With a breathy moan, you nodded.
Pushing your panties to the side, you felt him pull out his cock and then gathered some of your arousal that was already pooling between your legs. You knew he was pumping his cock, coating yourself all over him.
"Be a good fucking girl and don't make a sound," he breathed against the back of your neck before sliding inside of your aching cunt.
"Shit," you groaned, thankfully the sound of the concert drowning out your cries.
Matt smacked your thigh. "Try not to move. I can't risk cuming inside that pretty pussy of yours while I'm working."
His cock was always so warm, so thick, and it filled you up completely.
You tried so hard not to move, especially when you could feel him twitching inside of you.
"Matthew," you rested your head against his shoulder.
To everyone looking in, they would have seen a cute couple cuddling together.
But only you and Matt knew the dirty telling of what was going on.
Matt pretended that he had no idea what was going on underneath the desk, and simply hit the appropriate buttons as the set went on.
However, when WDYWFM was next on the set list, you knew you wouldn't be able to keep still.
Your body always involuntarily jumped around to the song along with Noah.
The balls of your heels began to bounce up and down, causing Matt to hiss in your ear.
"What did I say about moving, baby?" He warned, never taking his eyes off the screen.
"I can't help it," you shot back. "You feel so fucking good. Please, I need your cum. I can't take it anymore."
Now his eyes snapped over to you and that's when you realized how hard he'd been holding back; you could see it in the way his jaw clenched.
"You want it?" He asked.
You nodded desperately.
Matt leaned closer to your lips. "Then fucking take it, Y/N."
All at once, you began bouncing on the soles of your heels again to the beat of WDYWFM and Matt gripped your hips with bruising force as his cock stilled inside you before you felt the familiar warm and sticky feeling between your legs.
"Fuck baby," he groaned in your ear. "I don't think I've ever came that much before."
You hummed in delight, feeling his cum slip down your leg.
"You're going to miss queuing up the next song," you motioned to the screen.
Spewing out a slew of curses, he tucked himself back into his sweats and still managed to hit his mark.
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thesamoanqueen · 10 hours
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Beast
A/N: my lovely @harmshake asked me what the "beast mode" that journalists attribute to Roman is for me. I have a clear idea, because he has already talked about it, but I wanted to try something in a sort of headcanon/imagine, a type of fanfiction I hadn't tried yet here. [warnings: 18+ smut, jealousy, protective prompt}
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Between the two of you, the one with the more visceral attitude was you and it was not surprising considering every woman is forced to fight for everything on a daily basis. Roman, not the Tribal Chief the crowds was used to, was a man it was simple to feel at ease, great listener, good manners and hypercritical mind on a personal level. He was a mama's boy, not because he was spoiled - even if it was true -, but in his ability to understand, give and care, qualities every man should have and which unfortunately were lacking in most boys. However there were moments, scenarios, in which he too gave in to the less soft side of himself and when he finally snapped, it was like facing a beast that had forgotten had been tamed.
#Jealousy
Your relationship was his top priority, his jealousy didn’t come from insecurity or doubts and for this reason perhaps it would have been more appropriate refer to it as territoriality, rather than jealousy. Seeing you admired, at work as much as in private life, filled him with satisfaction and pride, for him there was no pedestal too high for you. When admiration became something more though, that part of him less inclined or not at all to tolerate woke up in full force, pushing him to mark and protect what was his without worrying about anything else.
The overly insistent glances put him on alert, the whispered proposals in an effort to lure you away from him made his mouth twitch, but it was the attempts to invade your personal space that drove him crazy. He knew you were capable of taking care of yourself, he never stood by though and watched when some mr. nobody put a bad idea into practice and it didn't matter if there was too many drinks or an agreement between sides where it was necessary stay cordial to justify it. It was then that his hands found you, sliding along your back or pulling you by his side in an intimate touch to show he was the only one chosen for such a privilege. You would have recognized him just by the touch, even blindfolded, but it wasn't necessary because with his hands, all his presence came: solid body pressed close to reassure, shield you and intimidate anyone who thought could get over him and his voice, so soft, caring in your ears as he made sure you were okay and threatening to anyone unfortunate enough to deserve direct confrontation.
- "Back off" – the target almost never understood what was happening, staring in silence.
- "You heard me. Take a step back, two and three, all the way until you get back from wherever you came from. Or maybe you want a lil help, hm boy?"
The few who had tried to resist intimidation, even assert themselves, had regretted it the moment next, ending up in a match they could never have won and which they quit at the first serious grab as you said your prayers to bring Roman back to his senses.
#Dangers
As with jealousy, his patience reached the bottom even when you found yourself, as he said, in potential dangerous situations. Organizing and planning was part of your job duties, it wasn't often that something was beyond your control, but unexpected events happened on trips and was when plans changed that Roman didn't like it, especially if he wasn't physically there with you to deal with whatever what’s going on. A delayed flight at an inconvenient time, an impromptu hotel in an unsafe city triggered a chain reaction you most often tried to avoid, managing it without warning him or giving too many details. But Roman seemed to have a sense, reading between lines and then calls and messages began, to know where you were and what or why was happening, ending with an epochal argument on the phone when you finally confessed - even if in the end it was resolved all for the best -.
- "This isn't up for discussion! Im going to come between you and anything bad in your damn life! You should have told me!"
It wasn’t a mania, but real concern and the only reason why you put up with his outbursts. The idea in his mind of not being there when you could have needed him made his blood boil, see things more dramatic than expected. You had gotten into real problems years before, a few bad moments that had taught you a lot and for which he had jumped on the first available flight or in a car, forgetting to rest even after too many hours of work, consuming miles to even reach the other coast of the country. The beast that thundered, opening his mouth, going head-to-head against everything and everyone, turning everything and everyone upside down, had made you feel small then, but it had come to your rescue.
#Job
Comments didn't affect him, he had heard too many boos during his career to be impressed, but he channeled disappointment into his training and it was when he gave everything. For Roman it wasn't about preparing, it was about trying, testing his endurance, pushing himself for when the moment came. His returns had always been epochal events, changing the direction of the entire industry. His impact was unique because regardless of whatever people's opinions were out there, Roman had always left his mark for better or worse and he did it knowing he could. You supported him, assisted him as you could, but there was a part of you always worried it could have been too much and things could fall apart.
He had never really fallen though and if it had happened, his mindset had put Roman back on his feet immediately, proving to you over the years that nothing could really bring your man down even fighting the worst challenges. When the goal became clear in his mind, when he focused, there was nothing and no one that could push him down another path or make him change his mind. He was ready to crush any obstacle, overcome limits that he himself had previously drawn, see what others could not. Roman tenacity went beyond physical strength, it was mental, psychological, a terrifying confidence that brought out the part of him that made him so special. He didn't believe he could do anything, he knew he was capable of it and in one way or another Roman always found a way to do it, shaping himself and everything around him to realize his vision. Another species of man on another level of greatness.
- "Is perfect, take a break" – you tried to convince him and he nodded, but you saw it in his eyes even before you heard it.
- "One more time."
#Love
Sweaty body, heavy breathing, a man working hard to satisfy you.
You had your love adventures, but comparison with those who had been there before and Roman wasn't even a comparison. You had never felt so much love and lust in someone's arms, never had you felt so precious and fragile at the same time, like a flower pressed between the pages of a book, while he crushed you between the sheets. Sloppy kisses on your lips and delicate ones on your forehead, hands moving a lock of hair from your face and then sinking into the flesh of your thighs, turning you upside down as he pleased.
- "I'mma fuck my name in your head sweetheart, don't run, you ain't going nowhere" – promises that sounded like threats and made you tremble, a wave of pleasure washing over as you felt him go deeper – "you're stuck with me, quit it."
You whimpered, clinging to him like your life depended on it, shaking your head, begging, but Roman knew you better than you knew yourself and his grin always came right on time. When you felt like you were at your limit, he would increase the pace, pounding until he took air out of your lungs to kiss you and fill them with himself. Your body melted in his big hands, tears and sweet moods, climaxes following one another to the rhythm of your heartbeats and his brown eyes adoring and consuming you. Moans then became silent, pleasure intense to the point you couldn't feel anything else, you curled up giving in, abandoning yourself to his imperative desire to claim you. Only then did Roman slow down, bending you over, going beyond that sweet spot that he had tortured for the whole night, chasing his own pleasure this time and the perversion in his mind that made him go feral to fill you with his seed. Then he buried his face in your neck, between your breasts or behind your shoulder blades, hips pressed against your skin, nutting right into your soul and everything around you both fell silent to let the beast finally rest.
Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @alyyaanna @expert-texpert @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @joannasteez @reignsx @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @333creolelady @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @dreamsinfocus @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318 @headoftheetable @sortudademais @bookuce
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jophiel-extras · 3 days
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AM overstimulating/fucking silly a transmasc reader in front of the survivors? As soon as I saw exhibitionism I ran to your ask box lol
summary :: AM humiliates reader in front of everyone
warning :: exhibitionism, tentacle/wire sex, humiliation and overstimulation!! Yay!!
note :: don’t usually do masc readers but I think ik who you are… so I’ll do it just for you silly
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Having sex with AM was, interesting.
Never in your 100 years of torture would you have thought you’d hook up with the master computer that lived to torture you.
However, against the odds. It happened. You had become fuck buddies with your captor. Or rather, you’d become his sexual plaything.
The arrangement certainly benefitted you; more food, safer travels and longer sleep. Sex too, of course. Very, very good sex (though you’d never admit it).
You’d taken many precautions to avoid the others finding out. They’d kill you, absolutely. Maybe torture you more than AM. At the very least they’d judge you like Judas, which you had already been doing enough yourself.
Whenever AM had decided, in his own time, it was an appropriate time to have you he’d whisk you away on a strong wind or send a wild beast after you. You’d be brought to his insides, filled with slinking wires and hot circuits. Occasionally AM might create some humanoid to fill you, or dive deep into your brain and provide you with delicious hallucinations.
This night, however, he’d decided upon his own workings to please you. You knew it the moment his winding cords caressed you and slipped past your clothes.
“Ah, so you’ve returned to me.” AM’s booming voice bounced around you like an echo.
“How could I not? When you keep dragging me here it’s hard to resist.” You gruffed, pulling away from a cord that tightly hugged your arm.
“Is that spite I hear? No, that’s no good.” He chuckled and you shivered in knowing. In a quick snap, the looming wires had secured themselves around your body, touching you in places AM had claimed countless times.
The cords slipped past your shirt, dancing up your chest and digging into your collar bone. Others slipped past your belt line and toyed with the lines of your abdomen. Excitement reared you and AM knew it.
Paired with the chuckling amusement AM displayed, he whispered and boomed shameful words. He’d asked if past lovers had ever made you feel the way he did. Your weak ‘no’ didn’t compare to how different it was. AM fucked your mind and your body.
He’d known your thoughts the moment they entered your mind. You could tell as he hummed, clearly proud of himself.
Before you could open your mouth and hiss a snarky remark, the wires had plunged themselves into you.
Your mouth had no room to articulate other than spit filled grunts as his cords pumped in and out of you. Further down, AM’s wiring ravaged all your sensitive nerves.
Suspended, he kept you stimulated for some time. Watching and processing every choked grunt and every twitch until you came twice.
After the second orgasm rolled over you, AM had only laughed at your clenching and writhing to be free of him.
“Oh you’ll be rewarded greatly for this show, sweetheart.” He whispered it into the crevices of your mind.
It wasn’t until your third orgasm, which hit you harder and faster, that AM continued on.
“You know it’s so unfair to your companions for you to get this special treatment.” He drawled and your heart dropped, though you could hardly feel it. “All this tender care from yours truly and they are none the wiser.” Your eyes began to burn. “Why don’t we let them in on our dirty little secret?”
You’d thrashed against the wires, pleading muffled ‘no’s but in the blink of an eye you were revealed, put forth to the five remaining humans and the only people you could call your friends.
AM had forced you to look despite wanting to turn away from their eyes.
Ellen had looked on in horror, hand clasping over her mouth and her sad eyes widened. Benny had gone mad, hitting the floor and yelling. Ted could not take his eyes from the sight whereas Gorrister had looked away. Nimdok glared with an unflinching expression, furrowed and dark.
All full of judgment and disgust yet it all brought you closer to your fourth orgasm.
After it had passed you, AM had left you there. Cold, twitching and raw.
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saphronethaleph · 1 day
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RTKM
“I can’t speak to him until tomorrow?” Obi-Wan checked.
“I am afraid not,” Taun We replied, with a conciliatory gesture. “It is a shame you have come all this way to meet with such inconvenience, but perhaps if you had commed ahead…?”
Obi-Wan nodded.
“That would have worked better,” he decided, thinking. “Would you be able to run me through some of the key decisions made on the specifics of the army? I’m afraid they were taken several years ago, and I’ve only come to this particular project quite recently – I’d like to make sure I wasn’t missing anything.”
“Of course,” Taun We agreed. “In addition to providing the template, Jango made many of the decisions on training – that is not our speciality, as we prefer to allow our clients to make the appropriate arrangements in doctrinal matters.”
“Naturally,” Obi-Wan agreed, pacing down the hallway. “What weapons and equipment are included in the contract?”
“A basic load for the first two hundred thousand units has been procured,” Taun We replied. “All part of the initial purchase, naturally. We are aware that our clients may need to take urgent delivery. Any upgrades, however, will have to be provided by the client.”
She gestured, indicating one of the staging areas. “Rothana Heavy Engineering has provided much of the heavy equipment. Several large orders were made.”
This was getting more and more involved, and Obi-Wan’s worry was only increasing.
How much money was involved with this army?
“You mentioned behavioural modifications?” he asked.
“Naturally,” Taun We confirmed. “Neural inhibitor biochips are a standard installation on most of our clone lines. Our products are designed for maximum obedience through a careful inculcation of a culture of volunteerism, but overrides are always considered useful.”
She took out a datapad, tapping on it, then held it out for him. “A full list of the commands. I hope you’ll find that the details are entirely within the contracted parameters.”
“I hope so as well,” Obi-Wan replied, paging through the datapad.
He’d been wondering how a clone army could work, on a practical level, but seeing some of these commands it was apparent what would be involved. The clones would be trained in all military skills, and in showing initiative, but the dozens of indexed commands would erase or alter specific factors of their behaviour.
They would retain the same skills as before, but their free will would be restricted, causing them to obey as readily as droids. One of the commands on the datapad was to discard their communicators immediately, while another was an order to charge a position, regardless of casualties – and Obi-Wan had seen enough of conflict to know that that would be able to win some battles all by itself.
So long as you didn’t see the ten-year-old clones who’d be doing it as who they were. As much children as adults.
Then he stopped, and stared.
“Is something wrong, Jedi Kenobi?” Taun We asked.
Obi-Wan shook himself.
“My apologies,” he said, turning off the datapad and stowing it in his robes. “While I hope it won’t cause any problems for you, I’m going to need to check something later… are there any exercises going on at the moment?”
“Of course,” Taun We replied, pleasantly. “Would you prefer close combat exercises, heavy weapons, or long arms?”
“You’re going to need to hear this, Masters,” Obi-Wan said. “I’ve arrived on Kamino and found that Master Sifo-Dyas had ordered a clone army that was – supposedly – to be used by the Jedi, at the request of the Senate almost ten years ago.”
“Killed before that, he was,” Yoda replied.
“That was my impression as well, Master,” Obi-Wan replied. “But the clone army has neural override chips in them – standard practice here, I understand – and I was given a list of the commands.”
He cleared his throat. “Order number: 66. Authorized to be used by: the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, voice command, no other authorization required. Approved propagation: Command Clones may spread this order down the chain of command. Effects: Eliminate all previous affection or comradeship towards Jedi subjects of order, specified at time of use. If undefined, all Jedi are subject to order. Order subjects are to be designated traitors and eliminated immediately, maximum priority. Clones not acting in compliance with order are to be designated traitors.”
Mace Windu inhaled.
“That would be-” he began, but Obi-Wan raised his hand.
“Sorry, Master, but I hadn’t finished,” he said. “The effect section continues: redesignate Supreme Chancellor as Lord Sidious.”
Mace and Yoda both stared at Obi-Wan through the scrambled hologram link.
“Hell, kriffing,” Yoda said, eventually.
Mace started giggling.
“Master Windu?” Obi-Wan asked, worried.
“This is why you always read the manual,” Mace said, between giggles.
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percahliaweek · 3 hours
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PERC’AHLIA WEEK 2024
September 24th-30th 
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Day 1, Sept. 23rd: COURAGE / HEART
Day 2, Sept. 24th: FLY / FALL
Day 3, Sept. 25th: GLASSES / FEATHERS
Day 4, Sept. 26th: SCARS / TOMB
Day 5, Sept. 27th: FREE / RANDOM*
Day 6, Sept. 28th: SMOKE / SUNSHINE
Day 7, Sept. 29th: YOURS / LATER
We're BACK, baby!
With TLOVM Season 3 confirmed for this fall, what better way to kick off the season than with some cozy fics, hot art and great vibes for our favorite couple?
Last year, we were ecstatic to see over 40 pieces of artwork and 90 fics pop up in response to our prompts - so we're delighted to return and host Perc'ahlia Week again! This is a fan-hosted event intended to celebrate all things about the pairing: delightful arrow gifts to handling politics as a married couple.
We want to make sure this environment is welcoming to show fans and safe for minors to dip their toes into fandom: as a result, we request that anything that might contain spoilers for TLOVM s3 and onwards be tagged #c1 spoilers. And, as steamy as Perc'ahlia can get, please remember to tag more suggestive works appropriately.
Tag any creations made for the event with #percahliaweek, or @ us here @percahliaweek, and we will reblog it. Or you can submit directly to the blog if you’d prefer!
We also have a Discord server - both to encourage eachother to work on WIPs and just hang out. You can find us HERE <3
Any questions? We have an FAQ up HERE - but please don’t hesitate to send in an ask!
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The Senior: Years Later
Hello all! Before I start the next story in my “The Senior” series, I wanted to share that since I began writing, uploading, and reuploading these stories on here some things have changed. While I have been sharing my experiences with wedgies on here, these stories thus far have been about my experiences with them as a child and teenager. This didn’t initially bother me because I was sharing and, in a way, reliving these memories through my writing. But it bothers me now. 
Had my experiences with Chase concluded while we were both underage, I would have just stopped writing these stories all together. Yet this is not the case. So, this next part (and the final part following that) will take place four years after the previous story. When we were both consenting adults. I hope you enjoy,
                 
I was sitting at home alone. Well, I was sitting alone in the house where I grew up. I was visiting my parents during a short summer break from the musical theater conservatory I was attending. I hadn’t been home in over ten months. The conservatory went by a unique school schedule, so the week I was home didn’t coincide well with my parent’s work. As both are teachers, they still had school. It was nice being away from my classes, rehearsals, and at my part-time work in Times Square retail. So, things were busy. I was on the couch, a bag of pretzels in my lap as I watched some current popular TV show. My phone vibrated.
“Hey”, the text read.
I immediately recognized the phone number. I had deleted his contact multiple times. I even blocked the number once. Yet, those numbers were as familiar as his name.
“Hey”, I text back.
I pause the TV, redirecting my attention to my phone. I pushed the bag of pretzels aside. The text bubbles (a new IOS feature at the time) visualized three dots, Chase writing a response.
“I saw you were in town. How have you been? Chase texted.
At this time, it had been years since we had communicated with each other. And even longer since we’d last seen each other. Last time I had seen him, I was a Junior, and he was in town on Spring Break from his college in Colorado. We’d met up at my place and almost gotten caught by my parents. We quickly averted detection by sneaking out through the garage, but the stress of the moment gave me pause. Had me so scared of being discovered as anything other than “appropriate” or “normal” that I had (again) cut Chase out of my life.
“I am in town, I’ve been pretty good” I type on my phone, before deleting it.  
“Yeah, it’s been chill”.
I send the text and quickly place my phone face down as far away on the couch from me as I can reach. The phone immediately vibrates, but I force myself to remain still. The similar pattern presenting itself. He texts, I reply, he texts, I reply. Then minutes go by with nothing. Those minutes used to torture me, even when sometimes those minutes turned to hours, or the rest of the night. I promised myself I wouldn’t obsess over this again. That I was better than this. I remained still for just over five minutes before gently reaching over to my phone.
“Give any wedgies in the big apple yet?” Chase texted.
He skipped passed the unnecessary formalities. I hadn’t wedgied any guys in NYC at that point. There wasn’t any time, and I had my own revelations I was working through. Within a month of living in NYC, I had come to understand and accept that I was so far in the closet that I found Christmas presents. I had started trying things on in my new “out” life. Mostly through chats on dating apps or…. well, that’s all I did. I was out to my classmates at school, but back home I slipped back into the guy I was before I moved to NYC. Chase had been out for years by this point.
“I haven’t, too busy! Lol =(“ I reply.
“I have been thinking about the one’s you’d give me.” Chase texts.
“Really?” I reply.
“Yeah, it was hot”. Chase replies.
I politely ignored the fact that I was sporting blushed cheeks. Also, my hard on. I was ignoring that too. My phone vibrated.
“Wanna come over? I can pick you up.”
I looked at the phone in disbelief. After all that we’d been through. The shame that I felt and sometimes still have. The times that we’d avoid each other at all costs. Here he was again, offering to pick me up. To spend time with him. To wedgie him. It’s as if the closeted, hidden high school version of myself peeled away. I stood up and hopped in the shower, but not before typing and sending my response.
“Sure, you know where I live.”
When I opened Chase’s front car door, he looks at me and it was simultaneously as if time hadn’t past while there were also apparent timely differences. Both of us now sported stubble, mine being closer to a beard. Yet, he still had that stupid plush dice dangling from his windshield. We chatted. I don’t remember about what. It was small talk, but I do remember there was a moment when he said something along the lines of “maybe you can’t do that, but you can give a good wedgie”. I remember how my hard on never subsided while sitting in his car. It’s funny what remains of your memories over time.
Chase pulls into the garage of his house. I had never been here before. He gets out of the car and nonchalantly enters his home, knowing I’d follow. There was a black lab that excitedly greeted me. I followed Chase into his room, and he closed the door behind him.
Chase’s room was the standard expected room of a teenager. Sports posters on the wall. His bass on a stand in the corner. A pile of clothes scattered on the floor. Chase noticed me looking at the pile.
“Find any underwear in there?” Chase asked.
“A couple” I reply.
Chase walks up to the front of his bed, taking off his grey zip-up and then tossing it on the ground. He stares at me a for a second as I stare back at him. He’s wearing a slim fitted light grey t-shirt and jeans. Chase then turns around, his back now facing me. I remember feeling awkward standing in that silence. Like I didn’t know how to fill it. We used to have so much to talk about. There were still things that should be said. Yet, I remained silent, lost in where to start.
“Do it” Chase said quietly. Almost as if through an exhale of breath.
His words snapped me out of my haze as if we were in high school flirting in our distant way. Our words and jokes that were just between us. Because no one, not even each other could ever know our true desire for the other. Except, we weren’t in high school anymore, and both of us since then had come out to our close friends, but more importantly to ourselves. That layer of shame was no longer relevant nor present. Nothing was stopping me.
“Do what?” I teasingly ask, taking a couple steps closer to him.
“Give me a wedgie. Please” and then he said my name. I don’t know why, but I found that hot. I was now directly behind him. It was again as if time hadn’t passed. Like I’d done plenty of times before, I lifted his shirt and fingered my way through the waistband of his jeans which also donned a brown leather belt. Once my fingers obstructively found the underwear, I made the waistband of them visible with a gentle tug. The underwear’s black waistband donned the word Hanes stitched multiple times in skinny white letters. The fabric underneath the waistband was dark grey.
I looked forward and clocked my own eyes in the reflection of the full body mirror to the right of Chase’s nightstand. I then locked eyes with Chase who was also staring at me through the mirror. It was like old times. I sharply tugged on the Hanes waistband and Chase arched his head and groaned as simultaneously the leg holes of the underwear came in full display above his jean’s waistband. That was new.
“I was curious” Chase said smirking slightly at me as I had him up on toes as held his underwear up in my grasp. Then I lift upward on my toes almost lifting Chase off the ground by his light grey briefs. My cock is at full attention now, obviously visible through the front of my black joggers. As I continue tugging at Chase’s underwear, on the occasion tug the bulge would briefly drag or rest on Chase’s ass. He knew where I was at.
I continue tugging, alternating between slow gradual pulls and quick pulsating tugs. On each pull, Chase varied his sound responses. Some were groans, quick exhales, and my personal favorite the occasional “ooh” or “ahh”. I got the grey briefs all the way up to his neck at the highest but I would then mess around with this wedgie by snapping the briefs against his back multiple times. I would also tug while pushing him forward only then to pull him back towards me, inching the underwear further in his butt. I at this point have never wedgied Chase in briefs. This made it exciting and new in a way I couldn’t begin to explain at the time, but thinking back on it I was likely excited by the arousal of it all.
The grey briefs were bunched, leg holes and all were above his jeans. I reach my hands in front of Chase, gently moving my hands towards his belt buckle. I slowly start navigating the belt buckle loose and I unbutton his jeans. I then abruptly pants Chase, leaving his wedgied ass full on display. Chase turns his head back towards me, smirking.
“Having fun?” He asks as he slowly pulls his briefs out of his ass and back into place.
I then lifted Chase toward me by his hips, so that his neck was right up against my face. I kiss his neck. Chase moans. I kiss his neck again, but this time as Chase moans I kiss him on the lips. Our first kiss. This right here was all I had ever wanted. His lips on mine.  He didn’t pull away. He turned around wrapping his arms around my shoulder as we continued kissing. His tongue quickly made its way into my mouth, and mine in his. I don’t remember gripping his waistband as we continued kissing, but when I opened my eyes for the first time as Chase was kissing my neck, I saw myself through Chase’s mirror, with his grey briefs lodged up his ass so hard that besides the fabric in my grasp there was no indication Chase was even wearing underwear. It was lodged that far up his perfect round ass. I tugged again sharply with my right hand while my left hand pulled Chase’s head back by his hair.
For a moment, we both simply stared at each other. No longer seeing the scared kids we were years before, but instead seeing ourselves as the men that we are. Men that are kind, yet long for another man’s attention, lust, maybe even love. Yet, in that moment we just remained present. In our own kinky way.
The kissing and the wedgies continued. I even let him briefly tug my blue Jockey boxer briefs softly up my butt, but he remained eager for his flossing. The only thing keeping me from ripping his briefs clean off him was the continued kissing, it was proving to be a weakness of mine. Over the next couple of minutes, Chase kissed his way down my body. From my lips to my neck, to my nipples, and further down my stomach. Chase was on his knees now, alternating between looking at my throbbing bulge and up at me. He looked so beautiful looking up at me, as if I could solve all his life’s problems. Chase slowly then lowered my black joggers off me while still looking at me. Pre cum was already staining the front of my blue boxer briefs as Chase lowered those too. This wasn’t his first time seeing my cock. Back in our high school days we dared each other to hold the others cock in the car for a minute. But this was certainly different. Especially because this time Chase was licking the pre cum off the tip of my cock before putting the rest of it in his mouth.
I audibly moaned as my cock was blown for the first time, overwhelmed by the sensation of it. The newness of it. The excitement of it. All of it felt like a lock was finally clicking open. My whole body recoiled when Chase took a moment to merely tickle my cock with small kisses. He’d told me he was hooking up quite a lot in college in the text exchanges we shared when we chatted briefly after he came out. Back when I was still so scared to accept that part of myself. Before I ghosted him.
“I always thought that you had a hot cock” Chase said looking at me.
I looked down at him, feeling aristocratic as I noticed his grey briefs still lodged up his ass. Chase went back at my cock again; except this time, I cupped the back of his head with my left hand, gently pushing his head inward so my entire cock could face fuck its way down his throat. My other hand between thrusts reached down Chase’s back to grip the grey briefs. As I alternated between thrusting my body forward and pulling on the underwear, I felt closer to myself. As if I was about to descend on the first drop on a roller coaster. I felt drops of sweat trickle off my chin. I looked down then, only seeing Chase’s brown hair and his briefs gripped in my hand halfway up his back, lodged up his ass.
It was then when I remembered the time he yelled at me after we got caught by a police officer. We were rubbing each other’s cocks in an empty parking lot with sunshades over the window of Chase’s car. How scared we both were. How we reacted differently. And then, how when I was a Junior in high school when I saw he had posted a picture on Instagram with a guy. A boyfriend. How betrayed I felt. How exposed that post made me feel. But also, how lonely it made him feel as well.
I gently let go of Chase’s briefs and removed myself from his mouth, pretending like I heard my phone vibrate. I made up something about my mom wondering where I was and that she needed me home. Chase understood, we dressed, and he drove me home. When we got back to my house, there were no other cars in the driveway.
“She wanted me to be ready to go by 4”. I said, trying to talk my way out of the lie.
Chase seemed like he understood, but I must give him more credit. It’s possible that Chase knew I was lying. Still, before I could get out of the car he stopped me. Gently his hand clasped into mine. Again, something new. He leaned in and he kissed me gently. For a moment, I succumbed to it. The desire and lust I still very much had from the past hour’s activities. Tongues touched. He still grasped my hand. And then as if I teleported, I was locking my front door, and he was driving away.
I ran to the bathroom, stripped off my clothes, and stepped in the shower where I preceded to go into my usual, comfortable, one-man routine of pleasing myself. I came within minutes recounting it all. Moaning at full volume as I came. My cum, shooting towards the top of the screen door in the shower, before then slowly trickling downward. As the hot water continued running down my hair and body, I felt both euphoric and lonely. Hoping that the phone would vibrate with a text from Chase saying he came or that he wanted to meet up again. Yet, I sat alone under the running water knowing that it wouldn’t.
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auncyen · 2 days
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I think the applicable warning here would be disordered/restrictive eating?
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You haven't tried to weave yourself into a group in a long time. You forgot how tiring it is, more tiring than fighting the Sadness was actually. Mirabelle (sweet, like the plum), Isabeau (beau, nice--his smile is nice, and so is his laughter) and Odile (the dark swan? Hm... why does she have a Vaugardian name, anyway) have been very nice, grateful for your help in the earlier fight, and Odile didn't give you too hard a time over your vague travel plans. You think you'll be able to travel with them for a little while, while they're looking for these mystery orbs. You're happy...and at the same time, you are so, so, so tired. It's easier talking to new people in a big town or city: you keep things casual, you drift from talking with one stranger to another as you pick up cultural nuances. It's mortifying if you make a mistake, but it's okay, because you can scurry away and try again with someone else later. You can't do that with a small group. If you mess up with Mirabelle, Odile and Isabeau will know and hate you too. You have to show your best self always while they're watching. And you can't forget names, dummy.
It's. Exhausting. But worth it! They're so kind. And they actually want you around. You think? (Isabeau is definitely exaggerating when he goes on about how strong you were against the Sadness--any traveler needs to know how to deal with those?--but you're pleased he even wants to flatter you.)
But it is tiring, and by the time evening falls and they decide to eat dinner, you've started to believe they might like you, so you relax, and so of course you mess up, and you don't even realize until the "you're already eating more?"
The tone is surprised. Or is it offended? The Ka Buan is looking at you and the plate you're refilling with raised eyebrows. You. Stop. Nice and Plum are still working on their first plates, even if they're close to done. The Ka Buan--the dark swan, you idiot, you're already messing up without forgetting names!--is barely even halfway through hers.
You...finish bringing the piece of bread in your hand to your plate, because you already touched it and you can't remember any culture where it'd be more polite to put food back in a shared setting after you took it to eat. Then you sit back with your plate only partially refilled and try to smile, but not too much (some cultures don't smile as much as others and right now you can't remember if smiling's appropriate, everything you've ever learned about any culture is falling out of your torn net of a brain) to cover up your nerves. "Fighting that Sadness made me hungry!"
Nice laughs on the log where he's sitting. "It's a good way to work up an appetite!" he says, and the dark swan gives her soft scoff of a laugh and Plum looks up with the ghost of a smile and then everyone goes back to eating, so everything's fine. It's fine. It's fine. You...pick at the bread on your plate. Your nerves have ruined your appetite, but that's good. You don't want to be greedy.
You thought Ka Buans usually liked when people took seconds? Showing appreciation for the meal and all. But maybe you're remembering wrong, and even if you're not everyone has their own preferences that can be different from the majority and a woman from Ka Bue with a Vaugardian name (that you have forgotten. stupid) seems like she'd be unique. You look down at your plate and glance at hers occasionally as she and Nice start talking about their traveling plans for the next day. Plum occasionally chips in. You don't, because you don't really care and you don't want to let on that you can't even hold on to three names. You just chew on each bite of bread for as long as you can to keep something in your mouth.
The dark swan eats her food agonizingly slow. She doesn't take a second plate at all. Plum and Nice do, but that's probably okay since they helped get the food. You didn't. You're new, you're not part of this group yet and you probably never will be, but you want to try and that means you need to be on your Best Behavior Always. Don't be greedy, don't be selfish, don't take what you haven't earned, just shut up and listen so you can get their names again.
You do. Mirabelle and Isabeau and Odile. Plum and Nice and Dark Swan. Mirabelle is sweet but nervous, Isabeau smiles easily, and Odile doesn't like how greedy you are.
You go to sleep hungry. It's not hard. When you first started traveling, you'd have sleep for dinner more often than not. And you did have dinner. And you're going to see pleasant people in the morning. What more could you want?
(Your stomach tells you very loudly what it wants. You tell it to blinding shut up.)
Plum (Mirabelle, Mirabelle, Mirabelle) scrambles up a bunch of eggs to eat along with some leftovers for breakfast. She serves you a plate. It's enough. More than enough, it's generous. No one takes seconds, so obviously, one plate is enough. Your stomach is only whining for more because you're a glutton.
Isabeau takes a second sandwich at lunch. Mirabelle doesn't. Odile doesn't. You're too unsure if it'd be okay for you to ask for another or not (Isabeau is a big man, so it's almost expected for him to have a big appetite, but you're neither of those things), so you play it safe and don't.
You're tired by the time evening rolls around again. You always do forget how exhausting it is to try to fit in with a group (but it's worth it, worth it, worth it, it's so nice not to be alone). You look up at the stars for a bit to think of other things, but then your stomach starts grumbling. You sleep for a second dinner instead, and as soon as there's light you're awake and foraging for berries, peering closely at the fruits and the bushes they're on because you don't want to poison yourself even if you're starving. Isabeau gives you a curious look when you get back to the campsite, making you wonder if the slightly sticky juice you can feel around your lips is a noticeable shade, but he grins at you and gestures you to sit down for breakfast. You pace yourself, glad you're already partially filled on berries. Make each bite last.
...You feel like someone is watching you, but when you look up, Odile is reading, and Mirabelle and Isabeau are facing each other as they talk. You try not to look at their plates. You don't need to make yourself hungrier.
At lunch, Isabeau cuts his second sandwich in half--apparently he just finds the smaller halves nicer to hold? You don't really get it, but it's no skin off your back. In fact, it's a bit more food in your stomach, because Isabeau only finishes one half before deciding he's full, actually, and offering it to you. You're nodding before the question is even fully out of his mouth, which embarrasses you once you catch yourself, but Isabeau just smiles. His name really does suit him.
The sandwich tastes delicious. Good bread, a smooth and creamy cheese, satisfying meat and tasty herbs.
At dinner, Isabeau gestures for your plate as soon as it's empty, and you hand it over, surprised when he starts filling it. A small noise of surprise escapes you, and he chuckles nervously, pausing. "You looked like you were still hungry! You are hungry, right?"
You hesitate. You don't know if it's okay to say yes. You look at Odile, who raises an eyebrow back at you.
"What are you looking at me for? If you're hungry, then eat."
But, she doesn't like you being greedy.
...Does she think you're being greedy? You don't remember what she first said about you being greedy, now. Maybe it's not that you're taking too much? Maybe you were taking a specific food she likes--oh, no, Isabeau looks worried now. You're not answering him quickly enough! Even Mirabelle's watching now! You're failing mealtime.
It's usually polite in Vaugarde to accept an offer and thank them, so-- "Y, yeah! Thank you, Isabeau."
He resumes filling up your plate. Hooray. "No problem, Siffrin! Eat up, you can have as much as you want."
You laugh. You don't think he realizes how much you want. But he looks happier you accepted the offer, and you're certainly happy for the full plate heading back to you. Even Odile sounds pleased when she says, "you kids have such big appetites." It makes you pause a second, because you're definitely not a kid--did you give them your age (or the best guess you have for it)? you can't remember--but her tone is amused, warm. She doesn't mind. She doesn't mind!!!
You go to bed that night, still tired, but full and happier. Being part of a group is exhausting, but it's so worth it.
(Months later, you'll try to commiserate with Odile about how exhausting it is to become friends with people, because you love Nille, she's just as amazing as you'd expect of Bonnie's big sis, but you're so tired from making sure you don't mess up and make a mistake that you might be giving yourself a migraine, how do people do this, and Odile will look over at you and remind you that most people do not have social anxiety to the degree you do. You'll go and commiserate with Mirabelle instead.)
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mayasdeluca · 9 hours
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This is actually so frustrating because we knew that whole transition/their 'sex scene' in 7x07 was so choppy and edited in a weird way only to serve purpose for everyone else's scenes which truly speaks volumes for how they felt about Marina all season.
First they get told to 'tone it down' in the premiere when they kissed because it was a work setting. Then they barely had a proper kiss throughout the whole season with continuous weird edits and wordless montages. Then 7x07 comes and they decide a boob grab transition is more appropriate to show and to weirdly cut out Marina's make out session that was clearly happening against the fridge just to show the transition to Theo and Vic against the door? Give me a break. Why are Marina constantly being sacrificed for stuff like this? The way they were treated this season was completely unaccepted and I truly wish someone would address it properly.
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megangovier · 2 days
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Off Bounds
pairing: Lee Russell x fem reader
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Word counter: 837
No use of y/n
Summary: While grading papers, Lee comes across your work book and finds something concering at the back of it. It was thoughts about him that was deemed inappropriate for a student. In one lesson, Mr Russell pulls you out and questions you.
Cw: Fluff // Awkwardness // age gap (19,30s) // kissing // unholy thoughts // mdni
Mr. Lee Russell was your teacher in a few classes you had, some days he would take over if a teacher was sick as a substitute. He was helpful and could be funny at times, always making the class erupt in laughter. The thing was is that you were a student who had a weird crush on him, you didn't know what is was about him. The accent? The humour? you didn't know, but every time you saw him, your heart would race and heat would crawl up your face. One day in the library, he was on the ladder looking for a book. Removing your eyes from what you were reading, looking at Mr Russell, something throbbed between your legs.
It was wrong and you knew it, to look at a teacher like that but you couldn't help it. He was wearing this white shirt, glasses and tight trousers. He looked gorgeous, his eyes always made you melt. How could someone be so handsome and beautiful at the same time? getting back to the book, you dragged your work out the bag and started to write thoughts down. After finding the book he wanted, his eyes traveled down to you, smiling at how hard you were working Russell headed back to his office.
The bell had rung for lesson, packing everything inside you slip your bag on your shoulder and head to class. As you entered you sat down where you normally sat, Infront of the teacher's desk. As Mr Russell walked in, all eyes were on him. This class was known to be well behaved and listened thoroughly to his words, as he started class your mind was somewhere else. Focusing on his voice, you were also wondering what he can also talk you through, a grin slipped on your face making Mr Russell stop and glare at you.
"what's so funny miss?" Russell said.
Heat crawling up your neck and face, sliding down your chair in embarrassment "Nothing's funny sir, sorry, it won't happen again" frustration in his eyes. Something about angry Russell made you feel things that were unholy. The way his jaw clenched, or the veins in his hands when they grabbed something. Fuck, you wanted one around your throat now and then. You hated yourself for thinking this way about him, you knew this was off bounds.
End of class...
"Right everyone, that's the end of lesson, would you please give me your work books so I could grade them and see how well you did on your essays" putting your book on the pile, you head off before he could say anything to you.
Sitting back down, he started to grade papers after everyone had left to head home. As he was finishing up grading your paper in your book he had flipped to the last two page. As he was looking through something on the very last page it caught his eye. Turning the page over his eyes widened and face reddened, it was paragraphs of dirty things about your own teacher. Embarrassment washed over him, how could one of his students say this about him. He had to ask you a few questions the next day.
Next morning...
As you headed into class, with a smile on your face Mr Russell came up to you and asked if he could chat to you in private to talk about your work. Shrugging your shoulders, nodding your head "Sure". Walking into his office, he closed the door. Itching his neck, looking at you sternly "do you have anything to say to me?". A confused look washed over your face "oh don't you dare pretend to not know what I'm on about" grabbing your book out the pile your hands started to sweat.
Sitting at the corner of the desk, opening the book to the last page with a smug look on his face, showing you the paragraphs. "Do you think this is appropriate miss, talking about your teacher like that in grave detail?" Eyes prickled with tears, speechless you couldn't do anything but stand and take it. "Did you make this up, like those fics on your Tumblr page huh?" Eyes widen.
As you backed away from him, he got up and slowly walked towards you with dilated eyes. Bumping into the wall, his hands still holding your book "Look, I'm very flattered, but it cant happen" looking down at his hands, god you wanted one of them around your throat. "Eyes are up here sweetheart". Looking down at them again, a sigh left his lips. "why do you keep looking at my hands?" Eyes shoot up to the ceiling "well, I think they're nice to look at."
A smirk fell on his face, looking down in shame. Russell grabbed your chin to make you look at him "look, people can't help who they have a crush on, I understand that, but I'm your teacher and older enough to be your dad, this can't happ- soft lips attacks his passionately.
@sexy-monster-fucker @waltonghoulgins @danveration @hellfirecvnt @ghoulphile
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deltadescent · 2 days
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!! INFORMATIVE POST !!
I'm going to clearly state the Do's and Don'ts of my characters regarding their art/use. THESE RULES ARE NON NEGOTIABLE!!!
This is purely here for information so that my thoughts are completely clear and this post can be referred to in the future if necessary.
Read below
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REGARDING CHARACTER ARTWORK USE
Do not use ANY of my art of my OCs for:
Backgrounds
Profile Pictures (ON ANY SITE, Including Discord)
Edits
Videos
Emotes
If you see someone using my character artwork for any of the above, let me know. (NOTE: My friends are exceptions sometimes).
REGARDING FANART
You are free to draw them, HOWEVER YOU MUST:
KEEP IT SFW!!! (NONE of my OCs should EVER be in NSFW work!)
@ or tag me, use the #stormyweathersplatoon tag, or message me so that I can find & see it. Inform me in some way that it has been created.
Credit me for the characters.
REGARDING FAN WRITING
You are totally free to write fics or stories, HOWEVER:
AGAIN! Keep it SFW ONLY!
Notify me it has been written like the fanart. Please include a link as well, I'd love to read it!
Again, credit me appropriately.
REGARDING ROLEPLAY
I do NOT want my characters being used in roleplaying situations AT ALL.
Do not use my OCs for roleplays with friends or in servers.
While this is less likely to happen, it is something I fear and want to make clear.
REGARDING CHARACTER AI/AI SITES
DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES add my characters to platforms like Character AI or other AI sites. If you see one of my characters up on these sites, inform me immediately.
I do not want my characters associated or part of AI platforms.
ON SHARING/SAVING MY OC ARTWORK
I dont mind if my art is shared to others to show them a piece if you really liked it.
I do not mind if you save it, or if you use it to talk about the characters or otherwise discuss it.
Of course, credit is necessary, but otherwise go for it.
AND FINALLY, EXCEPTIONS TO THE RULES ABOVE:
I will allow exceptions to the rule IF:
I am asked and I give you clear permission to use the artwork.
(On Emotes/Emojis/Stickers) If I am in the server or space the emotes/stickers are being used.
This just comes down to getting my permission.
QUICK CLARIFCATION
This DOES NOT apply to artwork I've made of CANON CHARACTERS!!!
This would be characters like Marina and Pearl from Splatoon or Ghost and Hornet from Hollow Knight.
If the artwork is of a canon character, you're free to use it with credit!
FOR MORE INFORMATION, MESSAGE ME!
Thank you for reading!
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the-nosy-neighbor · 2 days
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Just So
TW: mentions of suicide related information
I thought I would look at “Just So,” based on the “Bug-A-Bye” song post, to see if I could find any information there.  I did find a few lines that could be related or seemed a bit suspicious. 
A note to start, the singing on this one is way better than the way “Bug-A-Bye” is sung. And this one is sung without accompaniment, so it would stand to reason that “Just So” would be the one that is sung poorly or off pace.  I wonder what that means?
So, the premise of the song is that Frank is tying his bow tie and Julie comes in.  He is getting ready for a croquet game with the neighbors, led by Julie.  Julie shows up in her bowling ball dress and tells Frank they are now doing hula hoop bowling ball croquet instead of just regular croquet (though I am sure there was some difference because Julie doesn’t play games the way they are designed.)
They start talking about how much Frank likes rules, and he starts singing this song about how he likes everything just so.  Wally comes in and asks if Home can play croquet, so they decide to move the game to Home’s yard so Home can play, too.  Julie goes to take care of this and tell Sally they are moving the opening ceremonies.
Wally stays with Frank and continues to talk to him about his rules thing, because he doesn’t understand.  During this conversation, Barnaby busts in and we find out he has boots on his hand, because he is planning to be a horse, because he thinks they are playing polo.  (Side note:  Barnaby rushes in is a thing.  This is a definitely crashing a conversation.  It reminds me of when Barnaby joins the talk show and completely derails the interview—which was veering to Wally’s love life, or NightMind was hitting on him, not sure.  I wonder if Barnaby is doing these things to control or disrupt what Wally says or does.)
Barnaby comes in and wrecks the song, sings a different song, and says he is off to take Wally to the game.  Frank stays to put on the proper bow tie, now that Julie is wearing the bowling ball dress.  (Something to remember for the idea that Frank and Julie are in a relationship.  Is this couple matching or just Frank’s weird idea of what is appropriate for the game? There is also mention in this of Frank helping Julie get all the leaves out of her hair after she got launched on top of Howdy’s store.  Yes,I went to see if I could find the green chalk on the map.)
Lyrics:
Let's see now.. right over left, under and through, fold on THIS side, down, up and around, pass it through and PULL- there! A perfectly tied Croquet Tie.
When I was reading this, I wondered if this didn’t have something nefarious to it, like that these were the directions to tie a noose or something.  I’m not going to post the instructions to be doubly safe here, but it’s not incredibly off.  I think that the pass through and pull is what made me think of it.  It does match the bow tie instructions very closely through the beginning and middle, but gets kind of weird at the end, but it is hard to describe, I am sure.  I’m going to go with maybe.  Maybe it is a reference.  I was mostly thinking back to some early concept art.
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This art, which is early enough to still include Sunny, shows all the characters hanging (assumed by the feet) with Wally peering up over the bottom edge of the photo, wide eyed.  I have always found this creepy but it is also one of my favorite pieces from the project.  It’s so evocative.
I forgot an important thought here, marionettes are stored by hanging them. I don't know why that didn't occur to me before, that it could be them in storage. Still, that is interesting given the theory that maybe Frank is removing puplets from harm by some sort of death.
So, while the image is still creepy, it has a basis in puppeteering.  I did look up muppet storage, though, and it is more box based, just one muppet per box. 
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We can be on the lookout for something like this as well.  In the “Look, I made a dog”piece, there is a box in the forefront, but it looks to be a regular box, and I would assume the arrow is the important bit, as it is pointing down.  The neighbors are mostly hand rod puppets, which we explored a bit before.  Other are walkaround style muppets and they have muppets that have human hands inside the muppet hands, like Rowlf (or just have human hands like Beaker or Swedish Chef).  Generally, the type depends on what they need the muppet to do.
FRANK: I know how to tie the loop around, and exactly how to pull!
JULIE: Or like the way you keep your garden all in rows!
FRANK: Yes! That way I always know, where each plant will grow.
This one is a throw back to the line above, tie the loop around and pull, which is part of the process of tying the knot, so could be a reference to hanging.  Then, with the garden line, it makes me think of the “Bug-A-Bye” post, with multiple references to the beloved bugs being underground.  Frank always knows which plant will grow.  Is this a reference to Frank knowing exactly where his friends are stored, AKA where to find the bodies? 
There is a portion of the song where Frank uses a crayon metaphor to explain the neat and orderly thing to Wally.  We find out that Frank has a tendency to arrange people’s crayons in rainbow order.  I was definitely that kid.  I could spend a long time organizing crayons by color.  He says something that seems to have a double meaning:
FRANK: I like it best… when red goes in front of the rest.
And the colors all stay inside the lines!
When each and every hue, from orange yellow green and blue,
WALLY: …and purple?
FRANK: RIGHT! Sometimes things have an order that their context, demands-
Since this universe has a strong correlation between character and color, it always pings my radar.  There are lots of examples to use for order, and this is an attempt to relate to something that Wally might already understand, which of course he doesn’t.
“Color inside the lines” has become an idiom in the English language, meant “to think or act within generally accepted guidelines.” That really fits my theory of the neighborhood, that they are being forced by the strongest power to behave.  It sounds like something someone would say to a dictator.  (Like the Mitchell and Webb skit where the baddie tries to get his henchman to kill someone without saying it out loud.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U6cake3bwnY)
Red goes first, so maybe Wally and Home come first?  If we are doing a proper order of the neighborhood, then it makes sense that they would come first. This is also backed up by the idea of Home being a panopticon in the neighborhood, centrally located and always watching.
Purple is left off of Frank’s list, though Wally’s line can be seen as an interruption and he hadn’t gotten to it yet.  If he meant to leave it off, it makes sense that he could be trying to avoid bringing Eddie to Wally/Home’s attention.  Wally/Home wants to make sure that Frank knows that he hasn’t forgotten about him.  Alternatively, if Wally/Home thinks that Frank is on his/their team, that he is asking Frank if Eddie is behaving. 
I did try to draw a line in rainbow colors through the houses in the neighborhood, but it didn't really give me anything.
After Barnaby shows up, and Frank tells them to leave, there is another section about the colors:
WALLY: Aw. I wanted to learn the colors.
FRANK: Wally, I think you already know the colors.
WALLY: …I could hear them again.
BARNABY: Yeah Frank, which one’s orange again? [sounding genuinely confused] Am I orange?
This could be cutesy Wally, for sure.  Most of this could be cutesy character development.  But with the focus on colors, maybe it means more.  Wally wants to know information about the neighbors, like he specifically asked about purple.  Frank says there isn’t more to say beyond what Wally knows, but Wally is kind of pushing the issue.  I don’t get Barnaby a lot of the time.  Is this mocking him?  Insinuating that he doesn’t know anything about colors/neighbors?
Frank kicks them out and then goes to finish his tie, and Howdy shows up and interrupts again.  He says, “On no, Howdy, not now.” I would assume this means he wasn’t going to play the game, or he would say it was moved to Home’s yard. 
I wonder if we have more interactions between Frank and Howdy, to see if there is anything going on there. 
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astrangeraccoon · 3 days
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On Sam and Gwen convo in ep 18:
Sam definitely dropped the ball here. I'm not blaming him and not saying it was his fault but he messed up and I fear that this will lead to Gwen :
Not talking about it again
Putting herself in danger either to prove she can handle it or to bring back proof of what she was trying to tell Alice and sam
The thing that hurt most here is Sam was genuinely believing her. He is a believer of the supernatural. And despite Gwen hostility at time, he has been showed to have an at leat positive relationship with her and regularly take her side (even over Alice in some argument).
So he was believing her and Gwen really believed she was gonna get the support she needed and was finally opening up to get.
She unfortunately just chose the wrong example. I am not blaming her here. Bonzo is the most monstrous of the "external" we got to meet for now. We know how awful he is because we got multiple time where we see him and we got a description of what he look like and we know it's awful.
But from Sam point of view she s basically saying the equivalent of the bear mascot from haribo (first example that came to mind) is in fact a monstruous murderer. So I get why Sam laughed, I probably would have too in his place. Especially since we know from the casement in ep 10 that bonzo was loved by kids probably Sam generation
Also Sam s best friend is Alice. Alice who has no concept of what's appropriate and where/when to joke. She s the kind who would make a joke like that with a big lead up (esp knowing Sam s obsession with the supernatural and his want to help/protect his friend and uncover mystery) that end in the most surprising /stupid way. ("you absolute asshole" that s def something he s said multiple times to Alice wehn she did weird bad jock)
So yeah I don't blame him for his reaction. He still hurt Gwen so much tho (could have realized she was actually genuinely panicking and stopped the joke or something). Especially since he (accidentally) described nearly exactly what happened (the only difference being the tone of voice and it happening at Nigel/bonzo s house). Especially the BONZO BONZO BONZO that must have triggered soooo much panic in her.
(Gwen reaction and her voice just broke me up)
I just wished he had checked on her at the end but of course we can't have healthy communication in this podcast
Tldr: while Sam s reaction to Gwen mentioning was not good™ it made a lot of sense and was very understandable but I wish he checked on gwen later
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