So, this would be like my intro? Presentation? I don't know. Something along those lines.
Okay, so the name's Jezebel Baz (either can be used, I'm good with both). I'm 19 years old. I use any and all pronouns, and I'm omnisexual and genderqueer. I'm Argentinian (and very proud, babeyyy).
This is a very nsfw and sexually positive blog, so if that does not tickle your fancy and you do not enjoy reading about how I want to do filthy filthy things to my faves, I'd recommend scrolling away now lmao
My dms and asks are always open, so if you feel like chatting, go for it.
Uh, idk what else to say...
Here is random stuff that I like!
Reading, fashion, makeup, allegories and metaphors, history (especially queer history), poetry and complex stories.
I'm very talkative and passionate, so this is my lil corner to scream into the void.
Also I curse a lot.
DNI (do not interact) even though I didn't want to make this a thing, it apparently has to be made:
Homophobes (wtf are you doing here? Shoo)
Transphobes and terfs (which is basically the same thing)
Racists (obviously, the fact that I even have to say this bro)
I'm a writer, or at least I'd like to think of myself that way, so I write a lot of fanfics. Also, I'm a perfectionist, so I may not release those fanfics for a bit.
A/n: I'm baaaaaccckkk somewhat. This is something that I've been writing for like, at least a year, so I hope it's good and if its not don't tell me.
C.W: bondage, dacryphilia, top Milo that eventually bottoms, free-use(? Kind of), sensation play, blindfolded, submissive Milo. Like, very submissive. If I missed anything, let me know
Tag list (I'm so sorry it's been a while): @indigo-greer-collins @ch3zzz @kxemii @darlin-collins @plutocries @ambrose-mp4 @elles-roses
"I just- I don't know what they want from me."
Sweetheart walked around the room, opening drawers and pulling things out. Things that Milo couldn't see. To be fair, Milo couldn't see much of anything, being blindfolded and all.
"They just expect me to work myself to death, and like, maybe a few years ago, I would've. But I got a home now, people that care about me, a beautiful man to come home to—" even in spite of their relentless ranting and pacing, they still found a way to make Milo's heart flutter, "I really don't have time for their bullshit."
And while his heart fluttered and his cheeks flushed pink from the compliment, he'd be lying if he said that was the only reason. No, the reason for his flushed cheeks was definitely more about his compromising position rather than their praise.
You see, the werewolf was on the bed, tied down to the bed post in such a way that he was completely exposed. Completely exposed.
The cool air of the bedroom kissed his bare skin and made him shudder, causing goosebumps to bloom all over his body. Normally, at this point, he'd be "beckoning" Sweetheart to touch him (it was more like begging, but he would never admit it). However, the ballgag in his mouth stopped him from doing anything other than drool all over himself.
Offering to be his mate's stress relief appeared to have awakened a few things in him because now he was rock hard and leaking all over the sheets while they kept complaining about their bosses.
"And they act like I have no idea what I'm doing. As if I'm some kind of rookie that has no experience whatsoever." Milo could feel the bed dipping under their weight as something soft (Too soft. Feather?) started to caress his tan skin, stroking over his nipples and making him twitch against the restraints. "I mean, I've been in this job for longer than some of them! Especially that dumbass Lucas-"
Milo let out a sound of utter frustration when Sweetheart took away the subtle pleasure that the feather brought him, and then whined when he heard a soft buzz. "Most people think he's only there 'cause he's fucking the boss, and truly? I'm starting to think so too." They placed the small vibrator over his oversensitive nipples, hard from the cold and a pulsing red from the way his mate had sucked on the little nubs before pushing him down onto the bed.
They kept on teasing him, their words falling almost on deaf ears as everything Milo could focus on was the hum of the vibrator against his erogenous zones, making him shudder and tremble underneath their touch. They moved the vibe down, down, down until it was right above his tip. He was able to feel the vibrations even though the toy was making no contact with his sensitive skin, like the air around him was vibrating. It was torture. Agony. Pure and simple.
Gods, he loved being their stress relief.
He twitched and bucked, trying to get the toy to make contact with his leaking slit, but the ropes mixed with a little bit of magic kept him down, forcing him to take this punishment with no ability to do anything, not even complain.
"I mean, I don't like thinking that my boss is only where he is solely because he's fucking my other boss," Sweetheart mumbled, scooting closer on the bed, their hair tickling Milo's ear and pulling a soft gasp out of him, which they swiftly ignored. "But like... there's really no other explanation as to why he's where he is. Especially when the boss is clearly giving him special treatment."
Milo was on the verge of screaming. Not that it would do much, seeing as how Sweetheart had be carrying the whole conversation by themselves as if nothing was wrong, as if they weren't mentally breaking him with every teasing touch, as if Milo wasn't on the edge of losing all sanity.
Still, he refused to knock thrice on the bedframe; their agreed upon safe action, since he couldn't use their usual safe word, being gagged and all.
"Hm?" Sweetheart finally, finally, seemed to have grown aware of Milo's need, and in an act of mercy, they cooed. "Oh, you poor thing. Right, I almost forgot. Here."
The gasp mixed with a groan that tried to escape Milo's throat died against the gag when the vibe pressed on the underside of his cock, right below his weeping tip. Sweetheart started to move the toy up and down, tracing the throbbing veins with a soft hum. The vibrations were nice. Soft. Not enough.
Milo couldn't remember for how long he'd been there. He supposed it shouldn't have been too long since his limbs felt just fine. But with the way his body ached and twitched with desperation, it felt like it had been hours.
And then, Sweetheart kept speaking. But their tone sounded more... distracted. As if they were going through the motions rather than really complaining. "And now they want to... to... um..." They trailed off, and Milo felt another bead of precum drip down his pulsating length.
He sighed in relief when the toy finally made contact with his sensitive head, feeling his balls tightening, his peak building up steadily, warmth spreading from head to toe. His thighs shook, his breathing became ragged, the little sounds that managed to escape the gag became whinier, and then...
Then Sweetheart stopped.
Milo could've cried.
"Ah, I just remembered, we had a meeting on Thursday and you won't believe what Jet told me—" They had to bite their lip to stiffle the evil chuckle that threatened to escape them as Milo pulled on the ropes and grunted like a feral animal.
But still, no knocking.
So with a smile, they took a bottle of lube, coating their fingers and Milo's hole with gentle, slow circles. "He said he wanted to reduce the technic department's funds by 12%! Can you believe that? He absolutely cannot do that. Those guys are already underpaid as it is." Their middle finger slowly made it's way inside, and then a second, scissoring inside and stretching him out.
Milo bucked his hips into their hand, tears prickling his eyes as the warmth barrelled towards him once again. They were hitting his prostate dead on. Like they knew his body by memory, like they could bring him to the highest heights of pleasure asleep.
And Gods knew they could.
He whined, trying to speak, trying to beg, trying to do anything to get them to just let him cum. But no words were able to leave his mouth, and the desperation only seemed to fuel his desire. He was right on that edge, and he knew what was coming.
Not him, that's for damn sure.
"And I told Jet that, but then he just dismissed me as if I'm just some... some idiot!" They thrusted their fingers hard before slipping them out, leaving Milo empty and clenching around nothing. "I mean, I've already proven myself to him time and time again. I think he has it out for me, for some reason."
The sound of clothes rustling filled Milo's ears, and he felt his heart soar, his core lighting up in anticipation, his dick twitching and jumping and spilling with even more precum. The sheets were a mess, and he was sure he'd have to turn the mattress around to properly sleep on it, but he wasn't thinking about that right then. All he could think about, all he could hear, all he could smell was his mate.
His beautiful, mischiveous, hard-working mate.
Sweetheart settled themselves over his thighs, something warm (so warm) and slick barely grazing Milo's balls. He sat still on the bed, almost afraid that the slightest of movements would make his sweetheart change their mind and go back to teasing him senseless.
"I just want him to take me seriously," Sweetheart murmured, their voice far too small and shy to belong to the person that was about to plow Milo through the mattress, no doubt, "I think..." They took the base of his cock in their hands, nudging his red tip against their entrance. "I've earned it."
He was hilted inside in a smooth, relentless stroke, their hips pressed against Milo's as he panted. Tears soaked the blindfold. Were they out of relief or desperation? He wasn't sure. All he knew in that moment was the need to get his sweetheart to fucking move.
Hie jaw was starting to ache and just like they could read his mind, sweetheart undid the gag stopping him from speaking, thick strings of saliva dripping from his mouth to his chest. "What do you think, My Love?" They asked. Sweetly. Far too sweetly for the way they were slowly grinding down on him, their silken walls throbbing around him in a debauched massage.
"Y-yeah," he choked up, trying to swallow the remaining drool that pooled on his mouth, "Yeah, yeah, you- uh..." shit. He had no idea what the fuck they had just said.
"I...?" They goaded him, the bed creaking with the movement of a very small, very teasing thrust. "Go on. 'I' what, My Love?"
Milo was panting, trying to shake his brain into working, into answering with something witty and clever, but it was like all the thoughts had been fucked out of his head and he hadn't even cum yet. "You, uh... Sweetheart, please..." Yeah, begging seemed like a safe option now.
Even though he couldn't see them, Sweetheart arched a brow up, their beautiful eyes raked down his body with a hunger that would've been expected from the werewolf, not his stealth mate. However, they were staring at him like he was food. Like he was prey.
And he sure as hell felt like it.
"'Please', huh?" They smirked, fingers walking up his muscular body until they stopped at his chest and their nails gently scraped down his abdomen. "'Please...', what? Hm? Use your big boy words. Beg for what you want."
That was it. They were done complaining. They vented, they bitched, and now they were ready to let out *all* their stress on Milo's pliant, willing body.
All he had to do was beg.
And beg, he did.
"Please, please, sweetheart, fuck me," he breathlessly pleaded, his voice almost unrecognizable to himself. "I... I want it. No, fuck that. I need it. Need to make you feel good. Just use me, baby. Use me to let out aaaaall your stress and tension, sweetheart."
And there was nothing else to be said because as soon as Milo finished the last broken, croaked out word, they were already pulling him out halfway and slamming all the way down. They set a powerful and slow pace, making Milo's body jerk and jolt with each movement. Moans and groans left his lips shamelessly, too fucked out to even try to hold back.
Sweetheart wasn't any better, though. Soft whimpers and moans left their lips because even though it was them setting the pace, the unavoidable stretch of having Milo's thick length inside them was enough to make them lose their mind. It was almost like they could feel the stress of the week draining from their body with each thrust, their mind melting into something syrupy and hazy.
They grabbed onto the bedframe, their knees tightening their hold around Milo's waist as they began to gyrate their hips in patterns that the werewolf struggled to comprehend. A choked out gasp mixed with a low growl left his lips when he realised that his beloved mate wasn't just drawing random patterns on his cock.
They were spelling something.
M-I-N-E-M-I-N-E-M-I-
"Sweetheart, fuck!" He whimpered -whimpered- and bucked his hips up, chasing after his embarrassingly quickly approaching orgasm. "'M gonna... baby, please, 's too much..." his voice cracked, and it would have flustered him if he wasn't because of his uncontrollable neediness.
Normally, he'd be able to hold back a lot longer, even with the teasing and the sheer attractiveness of his mate claiming his fucking cock but with the added bonuses of his lack of sight and touch, it was almost impossible to hold back his orgasm.
That is, until Sweetheart stopped again. And this time, Milo does cry and thrash against the ropes like they personally offended him. The wood of the bedframe creaked and groaned under Milo's struggling, and Sweetheart knew he could easily get out of his restraints if he wanted to. By knocking, saying their safeword, using magic, or simple brutal force.
But he didn't.
He just took a few (many) deep breaths, calming his own racing heart down as Sweetheart settled comfortably on his hips, cockwarming him so nicely yet so cruelly at the same time.
"Not yet, My Love," they murmured, leaning down to pepper soft kisses on his cheeks, his nose, his forehead... all over his face. Such a tender gesture for such a sinfully pleasurable moment, it only served to make his shaft twitch and leak even more pre inside them, coating their walls with his translucent liquid.
"Sweetheart..." he mumbled, voice breaking in the middle of the sentence, not even coherent enough to beg any more, his mind turned to mush.
His mate simply chuckled, the soft sound making their gummy walls shift and flutter around him, drawing another groan out of his lips. "Shhh, not like this." Slowly, the lifted their hips, sliding him out of their warmth so very gently, and—
He couldn't hold back.
He came.
The moment his dick slid out of them completely, the head hitting his abdomen, spurts of white dribbled out of his slit pitifully, twitching and jerking erratically. "Sweet—gah!"
Tears soaked into the blindfold, and he shook and sobbed as the high died down, desperate for more. The orgasm hadn't been nearly enough to please him, and he knew his sweetheart felt the same.
"Awww," they rumbled over him, elegant fingers trailing down his chest, down his abdomen, and collecting the seed spilled. "You just couldn't help yourself, could you?" His hips bucked as he heard a quiet slurp.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he cried, spreading his legs wider, whining like a kicked dog. "Please, please, sweetheart, don't stop. Use me, use me. I can take it, don't stop 'till you're satisfied. I can still—" his pleading was cut short as he felt something warm, blunt, and wet press against his entrance, sliding in one smooth thrust. A sharp gasp escaped him, his head falling back against the headboard with a soft thud. "Yes... Yes, sweetheart, please..."
No more words were uttered from Milo's mouth as his sweetheart began to grind into him, not even thrusting, just rolling their hips as if they couldn't get deep enough. Soft pants fell from their lips as their hands roamed over his body, exploring every inch they already knew from memory, but enjoying and indulging in their lover's body nonetheless.
"Just like that, love," they uttered into his ear, making him cry even harder, their thrusts growing in speed and force. "Can you cum again for me?"
"I—" he choked on his tears, his thighs shaking with the restraint of not tearing the ropes apart and simply taking what he needed. "I can, I can!"
"Then do it." They ordered in that firm, all-bussiness-no-bullshit voice of theirs that he loved, made his cock twitch every single time. "Cum for me. Only me. You're mine, Milo."
It was as if his name was the key behind his orgasm, his body shaking and thrashing against the sheets as he shot rope after rope of cum, painting his own chest and even getting some on his chin, which of course, his Sweetheart licked clean. "Thaaaat's it, just like that, such a good mate." Their praise echoed in his chest as the ropes holding his legs apart finally snapped, allowing his thighs to wrap around their hips and forcing them still inside him.
He felt them shudder, a quiet groan escaping them. In fact, it might've not been quiet at all, but everything felt distant and foggy as Milo laid there, covered in sweat and tears and drool and cum, floating inside his own body, his mind hazy with bliss. He couldn't focus his sight, too busy focusing on the nice, cool air filling his lungs.
With a soft grunt, his sweetheart pulled out, leaving him hollowed out, empty of everything he had to give, and yet more fulfilled than he ever felt in his life.
"Good boy, you did such a good job for me," he heard them say, their dry and yet still soft lips pressing against his forehead before they pulled away. "Let me just..."
They untied him, allowing his blood to circulate as normal, his hands buzzing pleasantly. They didn't ask him any questions, they knew he wouldn't be able to answer, simply humming as they cleaned him up and rubbed lotion into the redness that the ropes had left on his skin.
Milo felt himself drifting in and out of sleep, finally fully settling into consciousness once the sheets where changed and he was snuggled up against his mate under a light blanket, his skin cleaned, his mouth still tasting of the fruit they had cut up for him, and his throat hydrated.
"Hey, sweetheart," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around them and rubbing their back. "How was that for some stress relief?"
They laughed, and it was the best sound Milo had ever heard as he swallowed it in a kiss.
Shout out to non-binary people who do want to be seen as a third gender.
Shout out to non-binary people who seek any form of androgyny.
Shout out to non-binary people who have a strong sense of gender and are not completely "opting out" of gender.
Shout out to non-binary people who do want to belong in a certain box and care about labels.
Shout out to non-binary people who care about being misgendered and are not gender-apathetic.
Shout out to non-binary people who consider themselves cis, or neither cis nor trans for any reason.
Shout out to non-binary people who consider themselves cis, or neither cis nor trans due to being intersex.
Shout out to non-binary people whose identity has a reason.
Shout out to ALL nonbinary people who are considered "stereotypical", get little positivity, and every time their identity is mentioned, it's to remind other people they don't have to be like them.
"Nonbinary is not a third gender" for some people it is. "Nonbinary people don't owe you androgyny" but we're allowed to desire it. "Being nonbinary is a rebellion against gender roles" if it is for you, cool. But my gender is not a political movement and not everyone feels comfortable with statements like this.
Bonus: shout out to all alloaces, aroallos, and non-SAM aspecs. 99% of all content under asexual or aromantic tags is just aroace stuff
one last evil species swap + rock divorce thought before im back to my regularly scheduled grockdrian bs…
human rocky, stranded for 15 years in space all alone, finds an adorable clumsy scientist eridian grace hurdling through the tau ceti system in a tiny alien ship.
this stubborn, silly rock has all the knowledge and ideas rocky needs to finally save his species and return to his life on earth. he’s also the bravest, smartest person rocky has ever met. they make a perfect team together.
and after so many years all alone, rocky ends up developing an embarrassingly big crush on the little guy. it’s tough to say goodbye, but they each have to return to their planets. he has a spouse and kids back on earth. with time dilation, the kids are almost his the age he was when he left earth.
after grace returns to save him, to sacrifice himself to starvation on the journey earth, maybe things go a little differently than when they’re human and eridian rather than eridian and human… i mean, who would trust humanity to take care of the sweet little alien that saved their life?
rocky will never see his family again. but they’ll be okay, now that he and grace have sent the taumoeba to earth. they have to be. 15 years with nothing but his thoughts, maybe he doesn’t want to see if any of his nightmares came true.
so rocky ends up on a journey to erid, grace’s home planet that he admits never really felt like home. but it doesn’t matter, rocky is grace’s home now, and grace is rocky’s.
rocky convinces himself he’s made the right decision, watching the small unassuming form of this little scientist who makes his heartbeat stutter. it’s easy to forget everything back home as he listens to grace stumbling around his workshop, running experiments in his own makeshift lab.
grace tells him that eridians mate for life. rocky has broken his own human wedding vows, nestled up against grace in the dark of space, separated by a thin atmosphere suit. he knows he will never find another like grace, that grace was made to love him and be loved by him.
grace is quietly celebrating his total victory over a beautiful human he’s never met. “adrian”, who rocky doesn’t like to talk about anymore. who rocky will never see again, because rocky is grace’s now. grace’s best friend. grace’s mate. no one else’s.
grace chose rocky, and rocky chose him back, over everything.
Eridian Grace finally caves and admits the reason he's been so cagey lately is because he's realized he is in love with Rocky. He apologizes profusely, since he knows that Rocky is already mated. Grace explains that Eridians will sometimes take on multiple partners, a weak excuse for why he's crushing on a married man.
Rocky admits that he's head over heels for Grace, that he has been practically since he laid eyes on him. Grace is delighted.
"Do humans take on multiple mates as well, question?" he squeaks.
"Sometimes," Rocky says. He seems to think for a moment, watching Grace's swaying carapace with a soft fondness. "But... that's not what I want with you."
Grace squeals in surprise, then pushes up against the barrier between them eagerly.
"That's not what I want, either," Grace squeaks. "Want to have Rocky all to myself. Want to be mated for life."
"Then you'll have me," Rocky whispers. "I'm yours, Grace."
Grace's stubby claws look even cuter underneath the flowy wedding dress Rocky sews together for him. They're married before the night cycle is over, with no witnesses except the spacedust and taumoeba.
When they reach Earth, Rocky uses all the leverage he can as the planet's savior to ensure he lives out the rest of his life in an island bungalow attached to a huge bio dome he constructs for Grace. Grace's existence is kept a government secret, so most people have no idea why the sole survivor of the astrophage mission came back a hermit and left his spouse. He must have gone crazy on that mission, they think. Poor guy. Rocky's happier than he's ever been with his tiny alien husband, but no one needs to know that.
Pink Prison, a comic I did for my color theory class this semester! we had to pick a color, research it, and do a piece related to it somehow. i chose pink :)
I will never forgive Project Hail Mary for indoctrinating me into the cult of finding Ryan Gosling attractive. All my life I heard the word of how hot and desirable Ryan Gosling is. All my life I didn’t see it, denied it. All my life I had the assurance I was not prey to mass delusion. There just, wasn’t anything remarkable there. And then they just fucking throw some glasses and cardigans on this man and make him sad and cowardly and I fold. All I think about now is Ryan Gosling bouncing and crying on it. It being? Whatever have you. A rock dildo. Markiplier. Any penile like object this pathetic little man is in the vicinity of. I should be killed.
Ok actually genuine tip for new tumblr users: if you see a post you like and want to reblog but theres a bad/annoying added on bit in the reblog chain feel free to just reblog that post straight from op or the last person who knew how to mind their business
when i forget to log into ao3 and i have to click proceed to see an adult fic, i actually get a kick out of it. like i am an old timey queen and my bard is apologetic: “gentle lady, dicks doth touch in this next ballad. would you prefer another?” and i give him a gesture of command like, “nay, you may proceed, minstrel. bring forth the tale of dicks”
sorry if links are out of the limits of the asks. i'm quite mad and i think it's important to share it (screw the language barrier) (be careful because the comic is quite explicit)
i follow a trans activist on instagram. he makes comics about his experience and he recently got a top surgery and it went quite well!. so, what's the problem then?: he learned that, even he was 'lucky' to found good surgeons who did their job; he heard horror histories of other brothers who had no other option to relent to butchers making their surgeries. some top surgeries are perform under local anesthesia and they remove only one breast at the time.
this person is from argentina, a latinoamerican country at the south of the continent. i'm also from argentina. our health system is public; meaning that many procedures can AND are made for free, without charging expensive bills. however, our actual government has cut the resources and the money for health, so, hospitals/clinics/centers are still doing their jobs however they can and making the possible to take care of their patients.
still, some factors are still true; as are insurances not fully or directly not covering all the procedures, and medicine professionals who only see the money.
no person should have to resign to be operated in such deplorable conditions, even more those who are in a hurry because of their insurances / savings / founds are about to be cut. is a basic human right, it shouldn't be a privilege or the final option.
i do not have a lot of knowledge if this also happens in other countries; so i prefer to share for visibility this
Just as Sam was leaving, he turned back before shutting the door to steal one more morning kiss. When you reach the end of the story, simply loop back to the beginning image. This cyclical narrative embodies my vision for 'A Decadent Angel's Daily Life'.
