#always there for each other even if not for us
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wonryllis · 3 days ago
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ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE DOING MEN THINGS.
𝓅𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗌 ㅤ𝑜𝑓──────just enhypen hyung line doing dirty/nasty guy stuff. gn!r, 397. d𝒾(e)rectory? ⚠︎.PG18 !!
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𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 every time heeseung has his dick in his hand, his phone's on the other. a whole stash of pics ready to send you― of his pretty cock, as you always say while sucking him off. it's his favorite thing, the way you seem so drunk over his cock, it boosts his ego. always trying to manspread in a way that makes it all visible, from his tip to the length; whether hard or about-to-be hard. more often than not precum leaking through his boxers just at the thought that you love to see him that way.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 he might not (or maybe does) look like it, but jay has a bunchhh of toys. secret. and he has a video of using― fucking each one of it; pretending it's you. oftentimes using them when he's sexting you, telling you about how he'd love to have you in place of that toy. and on some rare occasions bringing them out during your skype calls, just thrusting it on his dick while talking to you about how your day went. beyond turned on at your unaware rambles, of the fact that he's doing such unholy things right infront of you (albeit behind the camera but purposely just tad bit loud enough)
𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 who is jake if not a 24/7 horny guy with a sex drive so high it gets him exhausted. it is only so natural for him to have folders and folders in his laptop entirely full of videos of him jerking off. videos that he sends you every single day. not really expecting anything in return just wanting you to see all the mess he makes when he jerks off his cock and all the cum that spurts out just from his thoughts about fucking you― sometimes even just pics of you alseep are enough.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 though he is pretty good at hiding it, sunghoon gets hard fairly easy. bulge popping out through his pants anytime he gets a glimpse of you or better yet even thinks of you. his cock basically runs on you fuel. guiding your hand to touch it or lifting up his shirt and pushing his crotch out to show the outline. sometimes even clicking pics of his hard bulge to send it to you as soon as he notices it. like a reminder of how much his cock wants you, anytime and all the time.
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taglist . . open ! @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @aaa-sia @criminalyun @oddracha @satan-223 @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @jayjw16enxp @laylasbunbunny @riribelle
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ratatattouille · 2 days ago
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arcane season 2 was artistically beautiful and thematically cheap. every interesting and meaningful thing it did with its characters (even in season 2 act 2) was reduced to romanticized bullshit, utterly divorced from its season 1 roots. it's so bad it can be considered pro-status quo propaganda (and i do mean that). good ships aside (and i do mean the caitivi, jayvik, timebomb holy triad), this season squats and shits on every zaunite character in the show. not just their zaunite-ness, but how it literally shaped who they were as characters.
Let's start with Vi:
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-Vi and Vander: Vi's loyalty to The Lanes always went beyond Powder. Zaun was her father's, Vander's dream. Zaun was her friends (do you remember how protective she was of Ekko aside from her adopted brothers?) and her family. When she's giving Caitlyn a tour of The Lanes, we see how much she embodies and revels in Zaunite culture (esp in the food scene). She cared for Zaun like Vander taught her to. Her "protective" trait extended to ALL the vulnerable in The Lanes, because Vander taught her that. It wasn't EVER just Powder. Zaun is her HOME. As a child, she wanted to make a name for herself IN ZAUN "one day, this city's gonna respect us." You can make the excuse that Vander's death meant that side of her died, but it clearly didn't because of how she regarded it while showing Caitlyn around. "Family" to Vander, extended to the vulnerable of Zaun, which is how Vi and Powder came to be his "daughters" in the first place. Because Zaun was for THEM. Zaun WAS THEM. Vander and Silco "weren't allowed to fail" at Zaun (i.e. the two daughters). Additionally, Vi and Jinx were supposed to succeed where Vander and Silco hadn't: forgiving each other and uniting so they could realize their dream for a free Zaun. The whole reason Zaun struggles to be free is because of their own internal divisions (the different gangs fighting for scraps). But if they united, they would be able to liberate themselves from Piltover (who is still the enemy). The whole reason the others are prosperous in the alternate timeline Ekko and Hemmerdinger travel to is because Vander and Silco reconcile (not because Vi dies).
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-Vi and Caitlyn: Caitlyn was an interesting development for Vi, particularly because Caitlyn mirrored Vander's care for all people. Caitlyn was an enforcer that wanted to truly understand and help people. This challenged Vi's biases and also gave them a common goal. Caitlyn appealed to Vi because she gave Vi renewed hope for peace in The Lanes. That Zaun could be free through co-operation instead of violence. Her whole teaming up with Caitlyn, romance aside, was predicated on Vi brokering for peace between Zaun and Piltover. The first break-up between the two (Season 1's "Oil and Water") centred around Jinx, more or less. Vi believes Silco is a threat to peace between Piltover and Zaun (even though The Lanes aren't known as Zaun to her, I'm just using the names interchangeably). She believes Jinx is acting out due to Silco's influence, as well (and she isn't entirely wrong). Had Caitlyn not been injured on the bridge (and had Jinx not felt betrayed by Vi), Vi was going to leave her in pursuit of Jinx. Vi has never fit into Piltover (and that's also shown in Season 2 act 1-2).
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-Vi and Jinx: This show was ALWAYS about a tale of two sisters/cities. When Vi becomes an enforcer, it isn't because she's switched loyalties. She wants peace for Zaun, she just wants to take Silco's (and her own) creation--Jinx--out of the equation so it can work. The only reason she agrees to Caitlyn's plan is because, again, their two goals align: get Jinx. The difference is Vi wants to kill Jinx to get Powder back, while Cait wants to kill Jinx to get her city (mother) back. The show in season 2 TOTALLY LOST THIS FOCUS. Vi's guilt at hunting down her own people with enforcers (and it's already insane that Vi would even agree lmao) is ignored a lot by fandom, especially bc her post-breakup scene where she goes full goth is framed as regret for letting Cait down (rather than the self-disgust she would feel for joining her oppressors). Vi played a part in creating Jinx. Every single step of the way. This is barely acknowledged, and every time it might be, it gets shoved aside for romance with Cait. Cait, who, literally became a dictator and weaponized the air ducts her mother had created to SAVE ZAUNITES. The whole thing is viewed as Vi betraying Cait instead of Vi betraying Jinx/Zaun/her family and Cait betraying Vi ("promise me you won't change") and her mother. Cait was the one who sought to help Zaun (like her mother) but betrayed who she was when she was willing to kill Isha, an innocent child. (ALSO IMPORTANT: Just to further prove my point on how integral the sister's love for each other was, every show started with a record playing. The cover of the disc was Vi and Jinx. They were always the center focus of the story. The song that the record played? Likely "Our Love" by Curtis Harding and Jazmine Sullivan which goes "Our love is a bubblin' fountain, our love, that flows into the sea, our love, deeper than the ocean, our love for eternity." This love deeper-than-the-ocean can apparently crumble in the face of a dictator girlfriend you've known for less than a year lmao).
Where the writers FUMBLE is:
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-Vi's and Jinx's relationship becomes secondary not just to the entire plot of the show but to Vi's arc. Zaun and Piltover's conflict was set up to be the epitome of the show, and the fact that it got shelved for a more *ahem* American industrial military complex epic battle between humans and robots is very telling about the writers and showrunners.
-Vi forgives Cait easily and prematurely, trashing Vi's true loyalties as established in earlier seasons/episodes
-Vi herself takes a back seat in most of season 2, and becomes a passive yes-man to Cait
-Vander's re-introduction is almost completely worthless to the plot and narrative (he comes back just to die), and he is used as a cheap way to re-unite the daughters in a way that has no significance to the themes (also, Silco as Jinx's father is completely ignored)
-Cait's deferral to fascism should have been permanent. Idc about the shippers at this point. Vi and Cait should have never come back from Cait shoving the back of her gun into Vi's injured side (let alone the gassing of the ducts). Vi would've never forgiven her, attraction or no. The fact that Cait could become a dictator after losing one parent is proof of their class divides (after all, Vi held onto hope despite losing all her parents to enforcers and Jinx was all she had left of her family). That should have cemented the death of that relationship (and it would have made for more compelling storytelling on class). The only reason it was kept was because it matters more to white Western audiences to have a Romeo x Juliet rendition that assuages their classist sensitivities. Cait becoming a fascist made sense and was true to her character and the world. Vi forgiving her (and then having sex with her in the prison she was thrown into as a child?) destroyed both her character and the narrative. And it's frankly made the ship that much more unpalatable. If Vi had to be destroyed as a character for the ship to work, then the ship wasn't all that good (even though it started off that way). It's honestly left such a bad taste in my mouth. What a fuck you to oppressed groups that whole subplot was. (And it's made worse by the fact that the creator thought that was somehow an empowering and liberating act for Vi, like fuck that).
Let's Talk About Victor:
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-Viktor and Heimmerdinger: This is one of the biggest fumbles, IMO. Heimmerdinger and Viktor were the most polar of opposites. Heimmerdinger was not only a privileged, ulta-wealthy Piltoverian, but he had a comparatively endless lifespan while Viktor's own human life-span was cut short due to being a Zaunite, born at the bottom of the barrel and raised on toxic fumes that led to his terminal illness. Viktor's desperation to unlock the Arcane was explicitly about him overcoming his circumstances, his illness, his premature death. It wasn't merely about his internalized ableism, but the unjust way in which he had to suffer. Heimmerdinger could afford patience because he had all the time and resources in the world, but Viktor didn't. Not merely because he was a mortal, but because he was a Zaunite.
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-Viktor and Singed: Viktor's arc with hextech is foreshadowed with his childhood interaction with Singed. I understand that in the games, Viktor is a villain-type character and his catchphrase or whatever is "Join the Glorious Evolution." While Viktor is horrified by Singed killing the creature that he eventually uses for shimmer, Viktor later says, "I understand," hinting that he saw the sacrifice (and death) necessary to "heal" the world of its ailments. Both Viktor and Singed grow up in The Lanes, and both have ailments they want to cure (for Viktor it is his lung cancer and for Singed its his daughter's dying). In season 2, Viktor tells Singed that while he understands what healing all those people could cost him, he will not sacrifice their humanity for Singed's cause. Then Jayce blasts him in the chest and that all goes out the window. All this despite Sky being there with him in the astro-nether. Now Viktor's idea of becoming a higher being is just getting rid of emotion (despite the fact that his character was one that was consistently willing to sacrifice himself and die in order to not harm others, and Sky's death only solidified that). Jayce killing him without explanation was all of a sudden all he needed to become a divine dictator, lmao. The same Viktor that looked terminal illness in the face and preferred to spare others instead of himself? The same Viktor who's immediate action after waking up with a new body was to go and use the arcane he wished had been destroyed to help others? Sure.
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-Viktor and Jayce: Now, I think Jayce's speech had some merit and could have been framed better with a little more time and thought. The philosophical idea of perfection or a perfect world (one which Piltoverians strive toward) being untenable, maybe even undesirable, is a fascinating concept worth exploring. BUT MAKING IT ABOUT SOME INTERNALIZED ABLEISM FROM VIKTOR IS FUCKING STUPID!!!! I'm sorry, but Piltover being the city of progress until it actually included becoming progressive with Zaun was absolutely one of the things Jayce and Viktor's sub-plot was trying to explore. Viktor WANTED TO LIVE. Viktor wanted his people to STOP SUFFERING. Viktor WAS RIGHT. He wasn't merely eliminating "imperfections" (and of FUCKING COURSE A PILTOVERIAN WOULD SEE IT THAT WAY), he was trying to cure sick and dying people who did nothing to deserve it. He was buying them time that people like Jayce and Heimmerdinger had in spades, but Viktor and Zaunites had stolen from them. Children dying of disease and violence in The Lanes was by Piltoverian design! It was not some predestined cosmic necessity. Viktor WAS RIGHT TO HATE HIS FUCKING TERMINAL ILLNESS ARE THESE GUYS INSANE??! Wtf kind of message is Viktor embracing it as part of himself sending to vulnerable, impoverished and ill people? Is that supposed to be some kind of fucking comfort? Fuck off right to hell! And don't even get me STARTED on Jayce's trip to other-world hell being some kind of "Jayce seeing the world through Viktor's eyes" bs. Yes, it was good that our idealistic Jayce got to see the dark side of the Arcane as Viktor showed Jayce the beauty of the dream he sought for all people, but whatever message on class struggle Jayce is said to have learned or paralleled in his alternate timeline clearly didn't sink into his head because he still gave that dumbass speech to Viktor. And I'm glad if it resonated with any disabled people, but Viktor's struggle with his body was a protest against Piltover, not himself, and I hate that the writers gutted that character development. Viktor's and Jayce's paths "diverged a long time ago" because Jayce had the luxury and time of pursuing his dream while Viktor didn't. Viktor, even up there as a scholar of Piltover, was still getting the Zaunite treatment. Jayce had the time to pursue a better world, while Viktor had to struggle for a little more time. When Viktor becomes part of the arcane, suddenly he has all the time in the world to realize HIS OWN DREAM. Why would wanting a better world for others have to result in "dreamless solitude"? Viktor becoming obsessed with fixing what ailed humanity was warranted, and his extremism was hinted to have been due in part to the effect the arcane had on him, but it still made the themes of arcane a joke. There was so much potential and the writers (and showrunners) just squandered it for some more romantic bullshit.
Where season 2 FUMBLED:
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-"Humanity, our very essence, is inescapable. Our emotions, rage, compassion, hate. Two sides of the same coin, intractably bound. That which inspires us to our greatest good is also the cause of our greatest evil.” That's a neat quote, but wars don't start simply due to emotions or whatever. This lacks class analysis, and it's annoying that the writers made this the whole theme of season 2 (and retroactively the show) in a story on class divides. Cait did not merely gas the Zaunites because of her mother, but because of her privileged upbringing that made it more acceptable to her to view Zaunites as animals (remember Ekko telling her "you guys hunt us down like animals"). Cait knew the humanity of Zaunites was real. She'd seen it. She just chose to ignore it because she could afford to. While it is interesting that Viktor would come to see being human as a flaw that destroys any hope of achieving peace (conflict theory would like a word with you), it ignored that fascism is not an inherently human trait and detracts from how or why it persists in the first place. It's almost the same as saying men/white people oppress women/poc because the latter were mean to them. It's victim-blaming (and false lmao). The British didn't colonize the Americans because the natives did anything to them. All prejudice is unjustified, that's what makes it prejudice. Again, Cait became a fascist when her mom died, but Vi still drew the line at killing children and even council members despite losing every single one of her family members to Piltover's violence against The Lanes.
-Jayce's speech would have been cute in another story, but it's downright insulting in Arcane's. Yes, yes, Jayce's words would have been the only ones to have broken the real Viktor out of Arcane Viktor's grasp by appealing to this deep childhood wound, but Viktor's desperation was not to belong (because his leg kept him from playing with other children) but TO LIVE (because he was dying of an illness). Jayce's speech isn't bad, just misplaced.
-Viktor did not have to become a fascist-aligned deity in his quest to heal people. It is a typical MCU thing to have a "villain" that's technically right and then destroy their entire character to make their (correct) philosophy untenable by making them do something extreme. Typical pro-status quo propaganda trope. Idc if it was so we could get some game version of him. Viktor was right in bringing progress and his discoveries to The Lanes instead of devoting his efforts to Piltover, the fake city of progress.
-While I am annoyed that the climax of the show hinged on Jayce and Viktor and hextech (a tool to explore the inequalities of Piltover and Zaun) instead of Jinx and Vi, I think it kinda makes sense. Hextech built what Piltover has now become. Jayce, Viktor and hextech kinda represent Piltover (what it could be) and Jinx and Vi represent The Lanes (and the Zaun it could be). Both would have been integral, but the story shouldn't have hinged on hextech, IMO. Hextech should have remained a tool to explore the politics of both cities, but instead it overshadowed everything, cheapening the story's themes, characters and world-building.
-Jayce calling the Zaunites to arms was downright absurd. But not as absurd as Zaunites volunteering.
And Then There's Jinx:
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-Jinx and Isha: Isha's only use, as far as I'm concerned, was to be a reconciling force between the sisters. When Cait was willing to shoot her to get to Jinx, that should have stopped Vi right there and brought her back to defending Jinx 100% idc. When Isha sacrificed her life to save Jinx, that should have been Jinx's wake-up call right there and helped her understand why Vi kept leaving her out of missions as a kid. But instead what do we get? Depressed, suicidal Jinx and an astoundingly even more resentful and indifferent Vi. Vi still refuses to acknowledge her own hand in creating Jinx in the first place. Jinx, who has always wanted to be useful to those she loves. Who pursued her own hextech inventions in order to give her siblings a fighting chance when facing down Silco. Who wants to give Zaun a fighting chance as Silco's daughter. To be useful to the goals and dreams of her family. Isha was the perfect opportunity to bring the sisters together, but no. Instead, the kid was some kind of foreshadowing to Jinx's own heroic self-sacrifice for her sister (a message that left both sister's arcs unfinished). Vi had to acknowledge how wrong she was for abandoning Jinx and Zaun (instead of taking responsibility as Vander had taught her). Jinx needed to accept herself and the love others showed toward her (Silco, Vander, Ekko and Vi). Jinx keeps blowing things up because she repeatedly rejects herself (both Powder and Jinx), ignoring the good she's done and tried to do. Isha was a call back to the good Jinx has done and can continue to do for Zaun and others.
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-Jinx and Ekko: Timebomb is the only ship that didn't ruin anyone's character, lmao. Because Ekko's and Jinx's relationship is precisely an exploration of how Piltover's violence against Zaun forced these children with entire futures ahead of them (they are both child prodigies) into endless war and hellish heroism. Ekko and Jinx are repeatedly shown to be hesitant and even unwilling to participate in violence against others, especially their own. Ekko does not hate Jinx, though he wants to, and Jinx does not like who she is when she's violent. She is trigger-happy because she already expects Vi and Ekko to want to kill her (projecting her self-loathing on them, but not entirely unreasonably). She doesn't have faith in their love or mercy because she doesn't see any part of herself as redeemable or loveable, which is why she consistently sabotages her life (but not without help from Vi and others). Ekko and Jinx are symbols of progress for Zaun AND Piltover (and Heimmerdinger saw that, especially when Ekko insisted he had to go back to his timeline, even if the one he had landed in was better). Heimmerdinger saw what they could have been in the alternate timeline, all the genius that was squandered in The Lanes. Jinx and Ekko are the ones most willing to put an end to violence and injustice because both of them are nostalgic for their families. Jinx just doesn't have the same faith in her ability to do so as Ekko does, but Ekko manages to convince her for a moment anyways. Ekko recognizes (like Silco, Viktor and Isha) how integral Jinx is to the creation of a new world. She injects colour and life and hope into Zaun and is the only one who can unite all warring factions in Zaun in the first place. Both her and Ekko are rebel leaders, but that is hardly used in Zaun's interests in the end. (ALSO THAT WHOLE CONVERSATION WITH VIKTOR AND JINX. This show would have won with a Viktor and Jinx team-up to unite Zaun--also in parallel to Jayce and Vi's team up. We could have had it all!)
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-Jinx and Silco: This, is only second to Vi in the most FUMBLED things about Jinx. Silco was her guide once Vander died and Vi ran away. Silco not only took care of her, but gave her purpose and nurtured her talent (one that Vi and their brothers scorned). Silco accepted Jinx (he did not create her, Vi did) even though he weaponized her (which backfired for him). Silco, like Ekko, was the one who saved Jinx from death and offered Jinx a home. While everyone else patronized Jinx for her own childhood trauma, Silco was gentle, understanding and provided space for that, even when her psychosis killed him. He showed zero resentment toward her. But when Silco dies and Vander returns, Jinx just . . . oopsie, doopsie! Forgets about Silco until one final hallucination she has of him in the jail cell. The only one she has where he talks. And what does he say? She needs to break the cycle. How? Not by eliminating Piltover or gaining Zaun's independence like he'd talked about and dreamed about. Not by accepting herself as Jinx and Powder, the inventor, the fighter, daughter of both Silco and Vander, but by offing herself? Leaving her family to think she's dead? Embracing the lie that she really was the poison in their lives and the reason none of them could be happy? The reason they died? NICE! SWELL! WHAT A SATISFYING CONCLUSION! Even worse, they made her "death" staged. I'm sorry, but do we really believe that this same girl who killed herself multiple times in front of Ekko just 24 hours ago somehow found the will to live and escape into air ducts when she was falling with Vander? She decided to live right when she was about to die? And let's not forget that she was falling to the same song that was playing when she was trying to commit suicide. Why? And why would a heroic death (staged or not) be any form of character growth for Jinx in the first place? When her whole thing is distrusting the love offered to her? Or was she accepting herself by being the one to kill Vander because she knew Vi couldn't? Either way, it's cheap!
Fumbling points summarized:
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-Jinx not being radicalized by Isha's death and the sight of her sister hunting her down with enforcers.
-Vander's letter to Silco could have been why she hallucinated Silco talking to her about forgiveness, but breaking the cycle here is about forgiving (unapologetic) Piltoverians instead of herself, which needed to happen to complete her arc.
-Jinx being the reluctant Girl Saviour of Zaun after clinging onto her identity as a jinx so she didn't have to take responsibility for Silco's dream (and by extension death) should have been the point of the show, IMO. As far as Jinx's arc is concerned, she was meant to reject the identity of jinx that Vi gave her and embrace the identity of Jinx that Zaun (and Silco) gave her. Loveable and capable of doing the right thing and saving others. Using hex-tech, something Jayce and Piltover had levelled against her people, against them. And she does this to some extent, but we don't even get a hint as to why Ekko's speech worked (and how he got her to fight alongside him and the Firelights in the first place). We know she does so for Vi, but she so quickly gives up once she and her sister are back on the same team. She allies herself with her sister just to die and then fuck off to another land? BRUH! Like act 3 is SO FRUSTRATING!
-The commitment to saving Piltover instead of destroying it ruined so many arcs, most notoriously Vi's and Jinx's. This should have ended in a war between the two cities, not one where both fought against robo-people and Ambessa.
I could go into how the show fumbled Mel, Ekko, Sevika, Jayce and more, but I think they still fare better than the ones I've talked about here. Caitivi has now (narratively) become distasteful, jayvik a joke, and timebomb unnecessary misery porn with little to no reward for all their efforts.
TLDR: Bad message to send to oppressed people, mentally ill people, and people dying of terminal illnesses, lmao. The Zaunites ALL LOST with this one.
P.S.: It's okay if you think the show is good because it succeeds in many other things, I just think it drops the ball in the places I've mentioned. But if your main criticism of my criticisms is going to be defending your ships, please find another post. Oppression is a serious reality that deserves serious depiction and it's insulting to have such necessary political discussions devolve into dumbass ship wars.
HUGE EDIT:
I honestly did not expect this post to get more than 20 likes lmao, and i must admit that this was more of a thought dump than a super-deep analysis, but i'm glad a lot of it has resonated with so many of you!
that being said, i think my criticism warrants some criticism as well, and i feel like it would be disingenuous to just edit the post (let it be seen in all its imperfect glory lmao).
so here's my criticism of my criticism:
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-Vi and Jinx: Vi did not create Jinx. Well, I mean, not entirely. And Silco did not merely weaponize her. Granted, it is Vi who slaps little Powder across the face and shouts "You're a jinx!" but Vi is also just a child, and would have gone back for Jinx had she not been apprehended by that asshole also known as Marcus. THAT BEING SAID, Vi still feels a measure of guilt for her reaction (and that's not unjustified), and as Vander's daughter, she would still not stand for the Caitlyn S2 BS and would still default to Jinx much faster than she does (because she's all about family, and Jinx is the only family she has left.) Vi would feel even more guilty at how she is literally in an enforcer's suit when she is about to kill Jinx, the only family she has left. She is literally hunting down Jinx, a Zaunite, like the enforcers had her parents. It's still too far, lmao. Also, Vi's motivation to team up with Cait had more to do with getting revenge on Silco than restoring peace to Zaun, and I didn't mention that at all.
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-Jinx and Silco: This fucked up dude did a whole John-the-Baptist thing where Vander tried to drown him with Jinx so she could embrace her Jinx-ness. But I don't think he was telling her to embrace that she was a curse like Vi meant it, but to embrace her new life (baptism is all about death and rebirth) and her new self and take responsibility for it. As much as Silco WAS WRONG to lie about Vi (manipulating Jinx) and even try to kill Vi (which was a dumbass move on his part), he wasn't wrong about Jinx's path to healing: self-acceptance and self-forgiveness. And even though Silco's own stupidity led Jinx to "embrace" Silco's version of Jinx to the point that she bombed the Council right when they'd granted Zaun independence (I wanted to fucking kill myself watching that), Jinx was still not ENTIRELY a jinx as Jinx (e.g. when she rescued Zaunites from Stillwater Prison). Isha and Sevika understood (even though Silco unfairly set it up) that Jinx was actually their good luck, their hope, more than just a hex (pun intended) on the city. After all, Jinx made Sevika her new arm (even though she's the reason Sevika lost her arm in the first place), which further proves that Jinx had the capacity to fix some of what she broke. It would have been better for her to embrace responsibility and have the faith to try and fix things (ESP her relationship with Vi). While it is not unrealistic or necessarily bad writing that she would fake her own death to run away and start over (or just die) trying to save Vi, the arc people she represented deserved was her embracing Vi back, not accepting that she was a curse in Vi's life.
-BACK TO MY MAIN POINT: If the focus had been on the coming war between Zaun and Piltover, then we could have better explored the internal struggles happening with Vi's and Jinx's characters. Using Isha and Vander as misery porn for Jinx was a bad move. I stand by that. Isha didn't need to die that uselessly. Jinx did not need more "trauma" for any character development (positive or negative). It's not unrealistic that Jinx would be depressed after Isha's death (and that Isha was likely meant to symbolize the constant cycle of violence), but that this sub-plot really wasn't needed given what we'd already established in Season 1.
Why do I say this?
Because the cycle of violence is not a "Jinx" issue, but a Piltover one, and the writers making it an interpersonal issue instead of a political/sociological one damaged the story and what Jinx's character could have meant to mentally ill people like her. It wasn't illogical storytelling, just far less meaningful than it could have been. It would have been more powerful and moving and impactful for Jinx to realize where the true cycle of violence (as established the whole fucking show from the dead parents on the bridge, to Vander and Silco, to Jinx and Vi, to Jinx and Ekko, to Isha and Warwick, to Cait and Vi, etc) was coming from.
This is where my gripes with Jinx's and Viktor's arcs in S2 really lie: the story tries to strip the political from the personal! Viktor, on waking up with the arcane in him, goes back to The Lanes, and what does he see? The cycle that Silco mentions in Jinx's hallucination in the cell. This cycle is not merely coming from the interpersonal struggle Zaunites have, but rather, the forces behind those struggles: the starvation, the lack of resources, the poverty. All caused by Piltover. Where Season 2 fails while Season 1 succeeded, is it points the camera away from Piltover as the origin of all this mess, and instead, makes it a stupid cosmic clash between chaos and order (kinda fascist ngl). Zaun lost, and Arcane Season 1 had the tits to show why those in The Lanes were always on a losing streak: Piltover.
But what, instead, do the writers brandish as this solution to the cycle?
Fucking forgiveness (of those who harm and oppress you) and acceptance of your (physical) imperfections (like that's what we were apparently talking about, which no, it wasn't). By refusing to acknowledge Piltover's hand in the desperation and violence and struggle the Zaunite characters find themselves, the show inadvertently ends up excusing Piltover.
And I'm going to make a Part 2 to really get into it, but from the perspective of three Piltover characters (and one Zaunite) that really prove my point: Jayce, Mel, Caitlyn and Ekko.
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samah-h · 2 days ago
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A Confession from the Heart of Suffering: An Unbearable Reality
I hope you read my confession, and thank you. This is the reality of all the people of Gaza.
Whenever I think of the life we used to have before the genocide, I have to struggle to hold my tears so I don't cause my children more pain than what they already feel. Our life, then, was neither easy nor perfect but it was full of warmth and the simple joy of being together under one roof .
We have never felt completely free because we have always been under a siege that has only gotten worse during this war but at least we felt somewhat safe and we had quite a decent life with the means that we were allowed.What kept us going was our belief that the future might be brighter one day.
Unfortunately, there seems to be no better tomorrow for us anymore. Nothing remains of our previous lives but rubble and memories, and the future is so bleak and full of uncertainties.It's not just the walls of our house that were turned into ruins, it's our hopes and dreams that were reduced to ashes. Now, we only dream of things that might seem so trivial to other people around the world like being able to sleep in and wake up in a comfortable bed or having a meal without standing for it in line for hours.
We dream of having enough clean drinking water so we don't have to worry about dying of thirst. We dream of the days we had a home with a regular kitchen and stove, the days we could celebrate special occasions with family in peace. Above all, we dream of not losing the people we love in a split second and of living safely and with dignity.
Instead, we have been wrongfully sentenced to a life of fear, displacement, and humiliation beyond belief. It is a living nightmare here now. Everything needed to ensure the bare minimum of decency and normalcy is denied to us. As you well know, there is no safe place in Gaza anymore and We are deprived of simple rights like having having a roof over our heads or enjoying some peace of mind for even one single day. The airstrikes and the buzzing of drones almost never stop. We live with a very real sense of impending doom day and night.
The water and food scarcity are only getting worse with time. Even regular chores like cooking or doing the laundry have become true challenges. I cannot propely bathe my children because the little water we get is polluted and their sensitive baby skin keeps getting irritated.
Before the war, my nine- year-old daughter was so picky about which outfits to wear; it made me laugh that she acted that way at her age but now we don't even have enough warm clothes for the winter. It kills me each time she says she doesn't need fancy clothes anymore and only wants to feel warm and go back to school. What makes it worse is our tent has recently been flooded by rain.
The whole camp turned into a swamp overnight. The children woke up soaked, shivering and terrified. It was almost impossible to calm them down as the rain kept pouring. We are doing our best but even if we succeed in finding the treatment, it's going to cost almost a fortune. This is why we need your support even more now.
All we do now is fight for survival every day. I never imagined,even in my darkest nightmares, that I would be searching high and low to put food in my children's mouths and keep them warm or that I would be begging the world to literally save their lives but I have no other choice now.
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Despite the unbearable suffering we're daily going through, I still believe in humanity. please keep us in your prayers and help us anyway you can. Donate if you're able to,reblog and share our story as widely as you can.We are grateful to each and every one of you
Vetted by @bilal-salah0
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 days ago
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Can’t stop thinking the tall horror men of homicipher. I’m like 5ft something, so I know damn well these men tower over me…am I discovering something? Maybe 👀👀👀but I know I ain’t alone. TRUE STORY: Also there was this guy that came into my place of work moths ago with his family and he was TALL, bending down to get through the doorframe TALL but he was lovely.
So how do I imagine these boy would react if they see that you’re clearly ogling them for how tall they were.
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Mr crawling
Given the fact that you’ve only seen him stand once, it was enough to have your jaw dropping to the floor. He was taller than the fucking doorway that he had to manoeuvre himself under it, and suddenly you’ve forgotten that you were being kidnapped by Mr Stitch, too intrigued by his height and now understanding why he had lied to you about his ability to stand.
He thought he would scare you but in fact made you feel the complete opposite, you loved how tall he was and you couldn’t get it out of your head, even when he’s back on his hands and knees to comfort you. The illusion had worn off and now you wanted to see him tall all the time, but you didn’t want to pressure him into doing so unless he felt comfortable.
‘You’re tall, really tall.’ You said in awe as Mr crawling coddled you against his chest.
‘Scared?’ He asked as though he was fearing your answer, which broke your heart as you nuzzled your face against his shoulder in an attempt of comfort.
‘No, handsome.’ You replied as Mr Crawling made chirps and purrs of happiness as he held you closer to him.
While he’s still not fond on standing to his full height, the fear of his intimating stature would chase you away one day embedded in his heavily, he would find some comfort in knowing that you loved his tall stature and love you even more for not forcing him to do something he clearly was uncomfortable with; preferring to shower him in kisses and remind him that whether he’s standing or on his hands and knees you loved him regardless.
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Mr silvair
The man can feel your eyes on his back constantly. He knows he’s taller than most but the way you looked and admired his full height like you wouldn’t be able to anymore.
He wonders whether this was something only you seemed to have or whether other humans also felt possessed by the need to gawk at people above a certain height. Or was it just you that has this particular expression upon seeing his tall stature in general.
He would take notes of how his height seemingly did something to you that then triggered a chemical reaction within your brain to make you find his height appealing and possibly a requirement in finding your perfect romantic partner.
Or more specifically people of similar height to Mr Silvair himself or anyone close enough to his height to qualify. Mr Silvair soon deduced that you liked the domineering presence of someone much bigger than you, someone who’s able to drag you wherever as though you were nothing but weightless to them, almost like a ragdoll.
He’d soon find that this is in most cases considered a kink amongst you humans who found the height difference between partner rather erotic.
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Mr Scarletella
Finds your content ogling of him flattering and thinks that it means that you were finally, finally reciprocating his obsession with you for your own obsession with him.
He’s another one who takes note of how you like how tall he is in comparison to you, always looking at him whenever he was entering the room, eyes widening when you see him having to bed down to get through the doorway, and your eyes never leave him even as he’s walking towards you; seemingly getting taller with each step until he’s in front of you and you’re looking at him in awe and hitched breath.
He’s obsessed with your expression each and every time and uses his height to his advantage. Such as doing things like putting his hand above your head and on the wall, looking down at you with those obsessive eyes of his as his smile seemed to widen upon hearing your breath hitch and eyes widen once more.
His height continued to elicit a reaction out of you that Mr Scarletella loved and adored and wanted to see more of in the future.
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Mr Hood
Finds your constant ogling of his height interesting.
He didn’t know why you were so surprised he’s this tall, he’s been with you this entire time and it was only recently did your mind seemed to inform you of your Incredibly stark height difference, and bam! Suddenly he’s the subject of your constant staring and ogling as though it would be the last thing you did.
It was humorous to say the least and will earn you some head pats and cheek caresses that has you leaning towards his comforting and gentle touches.
It wasn’t something that you hide from him as half of the time you didn’t realise you were doing it until Mr Hood pointed it out with curiosity, meanwhile your left flustered as your mind held certain thoughts towards his legs, thighs and large hands.
Poor Mr Hood, he understood to some extent but after a certain point it’s better to explain to him that you find his height rather appealing to you in more ways than one.
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stxrslut · 2 days ago
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DIDN'T GIVE UP 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
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pairing; rafe cameron x sweetie!reader
summary; after getting out of rehab, rafe is desperate to be intimate with you, so it feels like his whole world falls apart when he’s unable to arouse himself. but with plenty of commitment and a promise not to give up, he finally manages to succeed, even if it’s not in the way that you’d both wished for
content; talk of addiction and rehab, brief mention of overdose, erectile dysfunction, masturbation, brief handjob
author's note; inspired by a few conversations had over on @starfxkrinc about post rehab rafe. I'm super happy with how this one turned out, I really love exploring these sides of rafe
you hold rafe’s hand as you both walk inside. tonight has been so special, your first date since rafe got out of rehab. it had been intimate and quiet and comfortable. a lovely meal at the local gourmet restaurant filled with gentle loving touches had left you both wanting more, a more that neither of you had had for a while.
even before rehab, rafe had just stopped having sex with you. you’d thought you might get somewhere but then the od happened and he’d needed to go to rehab which meant you didn’t even see him for months. 
you’re both so touch starved, no words need to be spoken before you’re both making your way up to the bedroom, kissing and fumbling with each other’s clothes, quickly and desperately.
“god— missed you so much,” he murmurs, hands on your hips as he backs through the bedroom door, turning and kicking it shut like he always used to when you first started sneaking around together.
you moan softly “me too. missed you rafe.” one of your hands wraps around his neck and the other comes down to palm at him through his pants, his bulge is noticeable but he’s not hard yet. you undo his zipper and touch him through his boxers.
you both move back towards the bed and you pull his dick out, taking it in your hand and starting to jerk him off, but you both notice something. that something being nothing, nothing is happening. his dick isn’t doing anything. 
rafe frowns and you do the same, both of you look down as your hand keeps moving for no reaction. after about thirty seconds rafe steps away, “shit I– I didn’t know that would happen.” he rubs the back of his neck, “shit… shit.” 
you step forward and place a hand on his arm, “oh rafe… hey I’m sure its normal.. you did just get outta rehab,” you try to pull him to look at you but he doesn’t, he stares straight at the floor and shrugs you off.
“no… I.. this happens when I’m high not– I’ve been sober for two months.” he exaggerates, you can hear his voice beginning to break. you had considered that this might be an obstacle but you weren’t expecting him to react like this, surely all it’s going to take is a bit of trial and error until he can get it up with as much ease as he used to.
though you suppose this must be hard for him. finally getting some normality back and he can’t even properly enjoy it. and you know how much he hates to feel emasculated. maybe it is a big deal for him. even though it’s not guaranteed to happen yet, the imminent possibility must have shocked him into a panic. 
that’s fine, you’ve dealt with rafe under much more serious circumstances.
you step forward, more confident now that you have an idea of what the problem is and how you can solve it. “rafe, sweetie don’t panic,” you speak gently, “we’re gonna sort this out okay?” 
rafe looks down at you, “sorry– sorry I’m.. just wasn’t expectin’ it..” he scratches the back of his neck, looking down at his uncovered self. you nod, understanding his distress.
“that’s okay, it was a surprise huh?” you stroke his arm gently, “you wanna try again?” you ask gently and he nods shakily, taking a calming breath before letting you guide him to the bed. he sits down first and then you climb on after him, straddling his lap and quickly managing to retain the mood you were in before.
you grind down a little and his hands come to your hips to help your movements like he normally would but he’s quickly letting out an agitated noise and pushing you off. “it’s not working,” he groans in frustration. 
you pull yourself up to sit next to him. your hand comes to his chest, “oh baby,” you coo as you notice the tears welling in his eyes that he’s so obviously trying to hold back. in his mind not being able to get aroused is bad enough, crying would just make him pathetic. 
“what do you wanna do huh?” you pry, stroking his chest now and coming up to kiss his shoulder. “I’m sure that there are things we can try… it’s only been a couple of minutes.” you try to reassure him but you’re pretty sure he’s going to be inconsolable until he can feel confident in himself again. in his mind, a couple of minutes should mean you’re already halfway through round two.
“I– I don’t understand,” he sniffles pitifully, not daring to make eye contact with you as he instead stares down at his completely motionless dick. “this wasn’t supposed to happen anymore.. I- I got sober.” 
you kiss him again, “you did baby, you got sober,” you smile sympathetically, “and this is normal, its normal to have erectile dysfunction after stuff like this.” though that reassurance sets him off more.
“don’t– don’t call it that,” he snaps ever so slightly, shoulders tensing and momentarily shrugging your hand away, “I don’t– I can’t have a dysfunction, okay it’s– it’s gotta work.” his voice breaks just a little.
you nod, “okay… okay then we’ll make it work, okay?” you move your body so that you can look him in the eyes, you bring your hand up to cup his face. “you just tell me what you need, okay? we can do whatever you want, whatevers gonna help you.” 
he thinks for a moment, you can see the cogs in his brain turning behind his eyes as he tries to find something that he thinks may help him. his lips are parted and his cheeks are slightly pink. he eventually seems to come to a conclusion, he hesitates for a moment before speaking tentatively, “can uh.. can I try doin’ it myself?”
you nod, “yeah, course baby.” you smile, proud of him for being able to articulate his need, “where do you want me? should I give you some privacy or–” 
rafe shakes his head, “can you stay,” he asks, “please… just.. I really need you to be here.” he tries to avert his eyes, he’s embarrassed, you can tell, he reeks of humiliation and you wish that you could just take it away from him. after all that he’s been through in the past few months you feel this is the last thing he deserves. 
“I’ll stay here,” you affirm, “I’ll stay here as long as you need okay? you just do whatever you need to do.” you move with him as his hand comes to grasp yours whilst the other supports him while he shakily manoeuvres himself to half sit half lay against the headboard. 
you stay on the edge of the bed, keeping a hold of his hand as that is evidently what he wants you to do. his chest rises and falls slowly as he pushes his pants further down and then gently grasps his soft dick. 
he begins to move tentatively, doing his best to throw his head back and not think about it. you stay quiet, just letting him figure it out for himself. 
he manages to get it up, a little, you notice a look of clear relief on his face as he relishes in the sensation he’d worried that he wouldn’t get back. his movement quickens and then his face falls as he loses it.
you stroke his thumb with your own, “it’s okay baby, just take your time.” you murmur softly as his face scrunches up in annoyance. but he perseveres, hand going back down to try once again.
he tries, he really tries. he tries so many times, over and over again, and to both of your increasing dismay he keeps losing it over and over again too. 
poor rafe, tears slip down his cheeks and he groans from sadness and surely a little pain at the fact that he’s basically rubbed himself raw down there. his tip is pink and angry, you have half a mind to tell him to stop but you fear he may hurt himself more if he can’t manage or stop on his own terms. 
he huffs sadly. he knows he needs to stop too, “just– just one more try.” he says, “one more.” he nods decisively before looking up to you, almost as if to ask for your blessing to just try one more time. 
of course you nod, “yeah, one more time. you’ve got this rafe,” you tell him, squeezing his hand reassuringly with a loving smile, hoping to encourage him to finally get it. 
rafe starts again, slowly at first and then he builds up his movements, it takes a long few minutes but he manages to get himself hard, fully hard. he grunts and groans and you have to stop yourself from slipping a hand under your own underwear so as not to distract him from his moment. 
after another long few minutes he practically cries out, then whimpers and then tears of relief fall down his cheeks as he finally cums. it’s not a lot, and it doesn’t last long, but it does him good. the feeling simply overwhelms him and he finally feels reassured that he can be normal again.
once he’s ridden it out you wipe the tears from his cheek with your free hand, “hey.” you smile down at him, “well done, you did so good.” you speak gently, “I’m so proud of you, you didn’t give up.” 
rafe smiles, his previous humiliation replaced with pure bliss and relief, “yeah,” he nods, sighing breaths of relief, “didn’t give up.” maybe this evening didn’t go exactly as expected, but you think, with the circumstances, it turned out okay.
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count-on-mi · 3 days ago
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Mommy's little boy Part 4 (Dahyun)
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Y/N: So finally I have sometime to translate a fic, I have trimmed down some parts so it would not be too lenghty. Incest fic with Mommy Dahyun, and even make her pregrant, enjoy!
Dahyun is a single mother. Her husband passed away from illness many years ago, leaving her and her young son to rely on each other.
Since her husband passed away, Dahyun has been missing him every day. However, to raise her son to adulthood, she has to work tirelessly to earn money to support the family. In the dead of night, Dahyun often tosses and turns in bed, unable to fall asleep, and her physical desires rise accordingly. But she doesn't dare casually find a man to satisfy her physical needs, fearing it might cast a shadow and impact her son's growth.
At times like this, Dahyun can only rely on her own hands to relieve her physical needs. She would quietly turn off the room lights, take off her underwear, gently rub the two rosy spots on her chest with her hands, then reach down to the already muddy little hole, inserting and withdrawing her fingers until she reached climax.
But such self-satisfaction always leaves one feeling empty and lost; Dahyun longs for a real embrace to lean on. She has never been able to take that step out of consideration for her son.
However, what Dahyun did not expect was that unbeknownst to her, her son was secretly developing unusual feelings for her. Whenever she was alone in her room "entertaining herself," there was always a pair of burning eyes outside the door, closely watching her every move.
The voyeur was none other than her son—me. Ever since Dad passed away, I have been secretly watching over everything about Mom. I watched as my mother gradually became thinner, knowing that she was very lonely. One time, I accidentally stumbled upon my mother in the act of masturbation, awakening something within me. From then on, I often hid outside the door when my mother was unaware, secretly watching her private actions, and even masturbated while watching.
Dahyun was completely unaware of this and continued to live her ordinary life every day. But she didn't know that the embrace she longed for day and night was right beside her.
As time went by, my desire for my mother grew increasingly rampant. I was not satisfied with just peeking from outside the door; instead, I started stealing my mother's underwear to comfort myself.
Whenever my mother was not home, I would sneak into her room and open the wardrobe to look for her worn clothes. I would pick up her wore but unwashed bra, inhale the lingering scent deeply, and then put it on my erect penis to rub against it.; Or take a pair of silk panties that mom wore but haven't been washed yet, wrap them around my cock, and jerk off like crazy. Imagining that this is Mom's little hole swallowing my cock, I always quickly reached climax.
Sometimes when Mom is at home, I pretend to accidentally drop something on the floor, taking the opportunity to quickly glance at Mom's legs while bending down to pick it up, sneaking a peek at the color and style of Mom's underwear. If she is putting on a new pair of underwear, I will specifically choose that one to use the next time I steal underwear.
In addition to stealing underwear, I also started secretly filming videos of my mother masturbating with my phone. One time, I heard strange sounds coming from my mother's room. I quietly opened the door and saw Dahyun lying on the bed with her legs spread apart, one hand kneading her breasts and the other moving rapidly in her vagina. That scene made my blood boil, and I immediately took out my phone and started recording my mother's private parts. In the video, it is clearly visible that Mom's pink labia are being spread open, fingers going in and out, the sound of water is continuous, and her expression gradually becomes more and more lustful.
From then on, whenever Mom was alone, I would take the opportunity to secretly film her naked. I have already collected countless videos of my mother during her orgasms, which I can watch and masturbate anytime, anywhere.
Dahyun was completely unaware of all this and continued to live her monotonous life day after day. She never imagined that her closest son would develop such perverse desires towards her.
I could no longer bear the desire that had been suppressed in my heart for many years. One day during dinner, I suddenly said to Dahyun, "Mom, I have something to tell you."
Dahyun looked at me with some surprise, thinking I had gotten into trouble at school again. "Y/N, what's wrong? Did the teacher make you stand in the corner again?"
"No, Mom. I want to tell you that my feelings for you... are a bit complicated."
Dahyun paused for a moment, then smiled and said, "What do kids know about love? The most important thing for you right now is to study hard."
"Not at all!" I suddenly became agitated, stood up, and took off my pants, revealing a thick, erect penis. "My feelings for you, Mom, are not just simple affection! I know you've been lonely all these years, just like I have! Every time you're alone in your room, I stand outside, staring at your body, wanting to possess you, to touch you, to give you true pleasure!"
Dahyun stared at me in disbelief; my words had completely shattered her worldview. She never expected her son to have such taboo feelings for her. "Y/N! What are you talking about? I'm your mother, how can you have such thoughts about me?!"
"But I can't help it, Mom! Every night, I think about your masturbation and watch videos of you to climax. I know it's wrong, but I just can't control myself!" I gripped my penis and moved it up and down, my eyes fixed on Dahyun's body. "Mom, I know you're lonely too. Why can't we satisfy each other? “I will make you experience unprecedented pleasure..."
"Enough!" Dahyun angrily interrupted me, turned around, rushed back to her room, and locked the door. She lay on the bed, crying uncontrollably, feeling deeply guilty for having ignored her son's emotional changes all these years. At the same time, she felt deeply fearful and uneasy about her son's thoughts.
The next morning, Dahyun woke up early as usual to prepare breakfast for me. I came downstairs to the dining room, and as soon as I sat down, I pulled one of Dahyun's hands and placed it on my lap.
"Mom, please reconsider what I said last night.” I know this sounds crazy, but for so many years I've been suppressing my feelings for you, and now I really can't stand it anymore. As long as you are willing to give me a chance, I will make you feel an unprecedented pleasure..."
Dahyun was so scared she almost jumped up, hurriedly pulling her hand away. "Y/N! What are you doing? I'm your biological mother! How can we do such a thing!"
"Mom, listen to me..." I reached out and gently pulled Dahyun closer to me, then hugged her tightly. "I know this is hard to accept, but don't you really want to experience it? “You’ve been through so much alone all these years; I can't bear to see you continue living in such loneliness. Believe me, you will find true happiness with me..."
Dahyun struggled desperately but couldn't escape my embrace. She looked at her son in terror, this child she had loved and cared for since I was little, now harbouring such wicked thoughts towards her.
"Y/N, wake up! We are mother and son, doing such things is against moral ethics! Even if you don't understand these principles now because you are still young, you will regret what you did today when you grow up!"
"No, Mom. I am already an adult now, I can take responsibility for my actions. And you should indulge yourself once, experience the true pleasure of sex..."
I said this as I began to kiss Dahyun's cheeks and neck, my hands restlessly roaming over her body. Dahyun only felt a wave of dizziness, her whole body weakly collapsing into her son's embrace.
"Don't... Y/N... let go of me... I'm your mother... we can't do this..."
"Shh..." I once again took Dahyun's hand and placed it on my throbbing member. "Mom, look, my cock has become so big. It's craving your comfort. Do you know how much I crave your body? Every time I watch you in the bathroom, I can't help but imagine how beautiful and captivating your naked body is. Why don't we give in to our inner desires and try a taboo relationship just this once?
Dahyun felt her son's palm as hot as a branding iron, tightly gripping her small hand and sliding it along my shaft. My penis is so huge that it almost swallows her entire hand. She never thought her son would develop such a huge thing; it was simply beyond her comprehension.
As her palm rubbed, a surge of heat quickly surged into Dahyun's brain, causing her to involuntarily let out a soft gasp. She hadn't tasted the pleasures of the flesh in a long time, and her lower body was gradually becoming moist.
“Oh my... my son's manhood... so thick and strong... if only it could come inside... how pleasurable it would be...”
Dahyun's cheeks flushed, her reason gradually being eroded by her body's desires. Although she still felt resistance in her heart, she couldn't stop herself from fantasizing and desiring her son's penis. This kind of taboo thought made her feel incredibly ashamed, yet it also brought an inexplicable excitement.
"Mom, I'm waiting for your answer... Are you really not willing to give me a chance to satisfy your needs? I will make you experience unprecedented pleasure... trust me..."
Her son's whispers echoed in her ears, and Dahyun's body trembled suddenly. She knew she had already been captivated by her son's words. Reason told her she shouldn't agree to such a request, but desire kept tempting her.
Dahyun is still struggling with whether to give in to her son's desires, with reason and desire waging a fierce battle in her heart. Her son's penis was simply too sexy and alluring; its hot, firm touch made it hard for her to resist. But as a mother, how could she do something so morally wrong?
I was unaware of the conflict in my mother's heart; I was only focused on enjoying the sensual scene before me. I vigorously kneaded Dahyun's round breasts and erected nipples, feeling their elasticity and softness in my hands. I then turned to knead Dahyun's full, perky buttocks, my fingers sliding between the two fleshy cheeks.
“Ah... so comfortable... Mom's body is truly perfect... I can finally possess you... I'm going to thoroughly enjoy your body...”
I was extremely excited, and my actions became bolder and bolder. However, I overlooked a fact—I was just a newly adult young man who had no idea how to control my strength. My rough touches and pinches left Dahyun's body marked with red, making her cry out in pain.
"Ah... Y/N... be gentler... you're hurting me..."
Dahyun twisted her body trying to escape, only to find herself in an even deeper predicament. Her son's rough caresses, though somewhat painful, were also igniting her desires. She unconsciously began to stroke my penis with her hand, the thick and powerful sensation igniting her desire.
“Ah... I can't take it anymore... I want more... I want my son's cock...”
Dahyun's rationality had long been thrown out the window; she was immersed in the ultimate pleasure brought by her son.
I was brought to the peak of pleasure by Dahyun's sudden actions, almost reaching climax immediately. I stopped moving, and took a deep breath to calm myself down. 
"Mom... have you finally decided to give in to my desires?" 
Dahyun lowered her head in shame, unable to meet her son's questioning gaze. "I... I don't know... I shouldn't have agreed... but I... I just couldn't control myself... Your cock is just too sexy and alluring... it's hard for me to resist..."
I was overjoyed, grabbing Dahyun and kissing her deeply on the lips. "Mom... I knew you would also be entranced by my cock... Let's start today... Let me take good care of you..." After saying this, I couldn't wait to tear off Dahyun's clothes, revealing her snow-white body. I eagerly licked and kissed the two rosy points on Dahyun's chest, then continued down, biting her lower abdomen and thighs.
“Ah... son... slow down... don't be so impatient...”
Dahyun gently pushed my shoulder, trying to stop my overly rough attack. However, I seemed completely lost in Dahyun's beautiful body, ignoring her resistance. I forcefully spread Dahyun's thighs, revealing her most secret garden.
“Mom... I can't wait any longer... I want to possess you right now...”
I pressed my cock against Dahyun's clits, preparing to insert it. Dahyun suddenly woke up and grabbed my wrist.
"Wait... I... I can't do this... this is just too wrong..."
"Mom... please... just let me have you this once... just this once... I promise I won't bring it up again in the future..."
I rubbed my penis against Dahyun's labia, trying to make her give up her last resistance.
Dahyun had already turned into a puddle under her son's onslaught, her reason no longer able to hold out. "Alright... just this once... you must never bring it up again..."
Hearing Dahyun's consent, I was overjoyed as if I had struck a treasure, I quickly spread Dahyun's thighs and thrust into her hardly.
"Ah!!" Dahyun moaned loudly, her son's huge cock penetrated directly to the deepest point, and her vagina was completely filled. "Y/N...be gentle...it's too big for me..."
"Mom...it feels so good...you're so tight inside...I'm going to move..."
I said and began to thrust hard, my thick cock tumbling inside Dahyun's body. Dahyun was knocked wildly by me, and she lost all reason for a moment. She could only instinctively follow the rhythm and move her waist to suit me.
"Hmm...ah...Junhao...so powerful...you penetrate so deeply...I'm about to be fucked by you..."
Dahyun's eyes were blurred, and she kept moaning incoherently. She had never thought that incest with her son would bring such intense pleasure as if her whole body was about to melt.
I was even more excited when I heard my mother's moans, and my movements became more and more wild.
I listened to my mother's moans, becoming even more excited, my movements growing wilder.
"Ah... Mom... it feels so good... you're so tight inside... I can't take it anymore..."
My breathing became heavier, and my pace quickened. I no longer cared about any techniques of shallow or deep thrusts, only thinking about fiercely possessing Dahyun's body.
Dahyun quickly intervened, "Y/N... slow down... if you go too fast, you'll cum quickly... we finally have this opportunity... you need to try to prolong it..."
However, how could I, who was experiencing sex for the first time, possibly hold back? I was already too deeply enchanted by Dahyun's body and just wanted to reach the climax as soon as possible. I increased the intensity of my thrusts, each one hitting deep inside Dahyun.
"Ah... Mom... I can't take it anymore... I'm going to cum..."
My cock throbbed inside Dahyun, releasing thick streams of semen that filled her vagina for the first time.
"Oh... Y/N... why did you finish so quickly..."
Dahyun helplessly watched as her son pulled out his softening member, a stream of white semen flowing from her open entrance.
"I'm sorry, Mom... I'm just too excited... It's too exciting to do this with you for the first time... I will try to keep longer next time..."
I lowered my head in shame. I originally thought I was well prepared, but I didn't expect to be conquered so easily by Dahyun's alluring body.
"It doesn't matter... This time we finally got what we wanted... You don't have to worry too much about time... We will have many opportunities in the future..."
Seeing that I was a little disappointed, Dahyun couldn't help but feel pity. She sat up, holding my cock with one hand, and wrapped her other hand around my neck and pulled me towards her.
"Good boy... don't be discouraged... we still have time... let mommy teach you now..."
Dahyun took my softened cock into her mouth and sucked it carefully. I felt a familiar feeling of pleasure return and couldn't help but let out a comfortable cry.
"Mom...your mouth feels so comfortable...I'm getting hard again..."
Dahyun glanced up at me with a look of satisfaction in her eyes. She sped up her swallowing speed, sometimes swiping the crown with the tip of her tongue.
"Hmm... um... right there... a little deeper... yes... it feels so good..."
My cock became engorged and swollen again under Dahyun's service, even thicker and more powerful than before.
"Mom...I'm going to insert it..."
I pulled out my cock from Dahyun's mouth, eagerly spread her legs and inserted it again. Dahyun's vagina was filled with my huge penis at once, and the pleasure immediately overwhelmed her.
"Ah...it's too big...Y/N...slow down..."
However, I have been blinded by desire at this moment. How can I care about slow progress? I thrust in and out widely, hitting the deepest part of Dahyun hard with every thrust.
"Mom...I finally have you again...It feels so good inside you...I want to fuck you to death...
Dahyun was fascinated by her son's almost violent offensive, but she knew that she could not let me go on like this, otherwise, I would soon end early again. So Dahyun tapped my shoulder to signal me to stop.
"Y/N... you are too impatient... we still have a long time to enjoy... now you just insert it into me like this... let mommy teach you some new tricks..."
Dahyun stretched out her hand to knead her breasts, her eyes drifting to me: "Look at my hands... caress my nipples like this... They are very sensitive... you can lick, bite and suck... but You must be gentle...otherwise it will hurt..."
I followed Dahyun's instructions and leaned down to kiss her breasts gently. I teased the pink nipples with the tip of my tongue, pursed my lips lightly, sometimes sucked and sometimes licked.
"Yes...that's it...then you have to thrust your cock inside me in small strokes...don't use too much force...this way it can last longer..."
I did as I was told, and my cock squirmed inside Dahyun like a snake, each squeeze bringing a new level of pleasure.
"Ah...Y/N...you are so good...just like this...slowly enjoy your mother's body..."
Dahyun closed her eyes and concentrated on feeling the pleasure brought by her son. My lips and tongue moved around her body, like a slippery little snake; while my cock pumped rhythmically inside her body, like a posing enchantress. The combination of the two brought her unprecedented bliss.
Dahyun felt my tongue getting farther and farther away from her nipples, as if I was exploring other parts of himself. She knew it was a good start, but it wasn't enough.
"Here... try playing with my breasts with your hands... just like what I did before... but with gentle pressure... I can get hurt easily..."
Dahyun takes my hand and guides me to move around her breasts. My warm palms gently pressed her breasts, and then used my fingers to draw circles around the nipples.
"Um...yeah...a little harder...and squeeze it between your thumb and forefinger..."
I did as I was told, and Dahyun's nipples quickly hardened in my hands. I seemed to find it very novel, caressing Dahyun's breasts in different ways, sometimes squeezing and sometimes rubbing.
"Ah...you learn so fast...it's so comfortable...now put your hands on my waist...grab my hips..."
Dahyun taught me how to grasp her ass cheeks and then ordered me to thrust in and out of her.
"Now feel free to do whatever you want... Just remember not to use too much force... Let Mom guide you for the rest..."
After I got the right to express myself freely, I was immediately excited. I kneaded Dahyun's breasts into various shapes and dug my fingers deeply into them; at the same time, I thrust deeply into Dahyun's body, and each thrust hit her deepest part.
"Mom...your body is so sexy...I want to possess you forever...never stop..."
Dahyun couldn't help but smile after hearing this. This young child finally truly understood the wonder of sex.
I attacked every inch of Dahyun's skin tirelessly, and her pleasure gradually accumulated to its peak. Suddenly, an electric feeling rose from her spine and spread throughout her body.
"Ah——! I'm about to cum...!"
Dahyun hugged my back tightly, her whole body trembling. I also felt the vibration in Dahyun's body and knew that I had brought her an unparalleled climax.
"Mom... Your insides are tightening like spasms... Your orgasm is so wonderful... I'm about to cum too..."
Dahyun immediately stopped him after hearing this: "No...Y/N...we have more new tricks to try...change your position...let mom kneel in front of you like a doggy...then you start from Come in from behind...that kind of perspective will make you feel particularly exciting..."
Dahyun turned around and kneeled with a blushing face, raising her butt high and waiting for me to enter.
"Y/N... come on... fuck mom hard... like a pussy..."
Junhao was immediately excited and penetrated Dahyun from behind with his still-hard cock.
"Ah...this perspective is so exciting...Mom, your body is so sexy...I want to fuck you..."
I thrust violently, making Dahyun's ass crack with each thrust.
Dahyun thought that the doggy-style perspective would make me more excited, but she didn’t expect that her son’s favourite thing was her buttocks. When I lay on her back and kept thrusting, Dahyun felt extremely ashamed.
"Ah...Y/N...don't slap my butt so hard...it hurts..."
Dahyun begged, but I couldn't stop at all. I galloped across the grassland like a wild horse, slamming into Dahyun's ass again and again.
"Mom...your ass is so sexy...I just like to see it swaying in front of my eyes...listening to the slapping sound is so exciting..."
My hands kept slapping Dahyun's butt, leaving a red mark. Dahyun's face turned red with embarrassment, but she had to admit that this method really made me more excited.
"Y/N...Mom knows you like this...but please be gentle...it will really hurt..."
Dahyun twisted and tried to avoid my slap but was firmly held by me again. I increased the speed, thrusting as deep as possible with each stroke, and slapped Dahyun's ass hard.
"Ahhhh——! I can't help it...you're too fierce...I can't stand it anymore...please be gentle..."
Dahyun couldn't help but scream, her sanity had been completely destroyed by my crazy behaviour. She could only let her son do whatever he wanted behind her and hoped that the storm would pass as soon as possible.
Dahyun's words only aroused my animal nature. I roared like a beast and kept thrusting behind Dahyun. Dahyun could only keep begging for mercy, but her begging became my best aphrodisiac.
"Ah... don't... you're too big... I really can't stand it anymore... please stop..."
Dahyun cried, her body shaking. I, however, acted as if I couldn't understand the human words, and instead intensified my efforts, thrusting harder and deeper into Dahyun every time.
"Mom...you are so sexy...I love the sound of your cries...you should lie down in front of me like a dog...let me fuck as the way I like..."
I said and slapped Dahyun's butt hard again, leaving a red stain. Dahyun let out a cry of pain, but she also felt an unprecedented pleasure.
"Ah... no... don't... but I feel so good... this feeling is so weird..."
Dahyun was so ashamed that she never thought that one day she would be fucked like a bitch by her son, and she felt extremely excited. I also felt the tightening and throbbing inside Dahyun, knowing that she was about to climax again.
"Ah... I'm going again... Y/N... please be gentle..."
Dahyun cried out, her body arching involuntarily. Her vagina spasmed violently, wrapping my cock tightly.
Dahyun's vagina bit down on my cock, making me immediately on the verge of ejaculation.
"Mom... Your pussy is about to pinch me off... I'm going to cum inside... Let me cum inside you... give birth to my baby..."
I roared softly as I made the final sprint. My words made Dahyun even more ashamed, but she was already blinded by sexual desire and could not think about ethical issues.
"Hmm...Y/N...come on...cum inside mom...let mom give birth to a baby for you..."
Dahyun agreed softly. She never thought that one day she would be eager to be creampied by her son, and she even agreed to give birth to a child for him. But at this moment, she just wants me to be released in her body, so that she can reach a higher level of bliss.
Hearing that my mother agreed to give birth to me, I was so excited that I finally reached the peak after dozens of frantic thrusts.
"Ahhhh——! I am cumming! All of it inside you! Make you pregnant!"
I let out a low growl of satisfaction and cummed all my seed deep into Dahyun's womb. Dahyun was also stimulated to orgasm again and again by the scalding heat. Her vagina contracted violently, tightly wrapping her son's cock, as if she wanted to squeeze out every drop of semen inside.
"Oh...god...so much...I'm really going to get pregnant..."
Dahyun said absently that she no longer cared about the consequences and now only wanted to enjoy this ultimate pleasure.
Since the accident, the relationship between Dahyun and me has become closer and closer. At first, Dahyun still had some concerns, fearing that my body would if I ejaculated too many times a day. But she soon discovered that her son's energy was too amazing.
On the first morning after that day, when Dahyun got up, she saw me standing naked in front of the bed. The giant thing under my crotch was already erect and covered with bright morning dew.
"Mom...you wake up...I want you again..."
I smiled and climbed onto the bed, spread Dahyun's thighs with ease, and thrust myself into them.
"Ah...you're here again...didn't it just end..."
Dahyun was a little helpless, but she quickly indulged in the pleasure. Although my speed was not fast, I penetrated deeply every time, and Dahyun soon had a second orgasm.
"Mom...I love you...you are my little evil...I can't get enough..."
I murmured, speeding up and thrusting inside Dahyun again.
This is a portrayal of the mother and son's life day after day. Dahyun was a little resistant at first, but was soon impressed by my love words and skills. Now as long as I am horny, Dahyun will open the door to welcome my invasion. She uses her body to teach me the secrets of sex, and I use my cock to repay Dahyun's generosity.
Sex between us takes up most of their lives. Dahyun's vagina has become my exclusive toy, waiting for my use at any time.
I soon moved into Dahyun's room to stay overnight, and we had sex all the time. When cooking in the kitchen, Dahyun would suddenly lift her skirt to expose her wet pussy, allowing me to penetrate her directly from behind; when taking a bath, Dahyun would kneel in the bathtub and give me a blow job until I couldn't help but erupt in her mouth. So far; when eating dinner, Dahyun accidentally touched my leg, I would grab Dahyun's hand and guide it to my crotch, and then push Dahyun down on the sofa; when watching TV, Dahyun would sit on my lap and move by herself, until my mood comes, we changes to the normal position. The lives of us have been completely filled with sex. No matter when and where, as long as one of us is sexually excited, the other party will cater to it.
No matter where we are, as long as one of them proposes to "fuck until mommy gets pregnant" the two of us will be particularly excited. I will also ejaculate more and thicker semen, filling Dahyun's vagina to the brim.
The tacit understanding between mother and son is also getting better and better. Dahyun knows where my most sensitive parts are, and how to stimulate me to reach climax faster; she also knows how to control her body posture and rhythm, so that she can reach multiple orgasms and prolong my ejaculation time.
Once, Dahyun deliberately rode her hips on the bed and played with my scrotum, which made me only last five minutes before exploding inside her. Another time, Dahyun adopted the method of "nine shallow and one deep", slowly guiding me to rush inside the body, allowing Junhao to enjoy the sex for an entire hour.
Dahyun has mastered these techniques to such an extent that she knows how to drive me into ecstasy and madness. Dahyun is already familiar with where my sensitive points are. As long as she wants, she can make me stay in her pussy for a long time. But seeing I struggling to cum inside her body, she would always soften her heart and let me wreak havoc in her deepest parts.
Dahyun soon became pregnant with my child as I creampied her as frequently as a stallion. Faced with this unexpected result, Dahyun was a little overwhelmed - she had to admit the fact that she and her son were incest and faced social condemnation. But just when she was hesitant, my idea once again made her indulge in physical desires.
"Mom, since you are already pregnant with my child, let's take this opportunity to play some new tricks! I can fuck you and suck your milk at the same time!"
I suggested with a smile, while untying Dahyun's clothes, burying my head on her breasts and nibbling.
"Ah...you little...you are so full of tricks..."
Dahyun hummed softly, stretched out her hand to hold my head, and took the initiative to put her breast into my mouth.
"Mommy's milk must be so sweet...I'm going to suck you dry...and keep fucking you...until our child is born..."
I said vaguely, sucking harder with my lips and tongue.
Under the temptation of my big cock, Dahyun was quickly overcome by desire. She no longer thinks about her child's future, nor does she care about the outside world's opinions. The only thing she wants now is to have intense sex with her son until she faints.
So, with a burst of rapid breathing, Dahyun held my head tightly and allowed me to explore between her breasts. I slipped my fingers into Dahyun's vagina, stirring inside, preparing for the next wild sex.
Under my strong request, Dahyun resigned from the company on the grounds of concentrating on childbirth. In fact, her purpose in doing this was just to give me more time and space to fuck his mother.
Due to the changes in hormone levels during pregnancy, Dahyun's sexual desire is stronger than before, and she is becoming more and more addicted to my big cock. Except when going to the toilet, my penis always remained inside her.
Whether in the dining room or living room or even on the balcony and bathroom, every corner of the home left traces of our intense intercourse. The gurgling juices and milky white semen mixed together, soaking most of the room.
Dahyun lay on the dining table with her butt raised high, allowing me to thrust violently from behind. Her top had been torn off, and her round breasts were exposed to the air, swaying with the impact from behind.
"Hmm... it's too deep... My boy ... you are always so rough... you're going to break mommy..."
Dahyun bit the corner of her lip, reached up to her chest with one hand to rub the erect nipples, and reached down with the other hand to rub the engorged clits.
"Mom, don't you like being fucked bad by me? You said you want our child to be filled with my big cock until he is born..."
I growled, speeding up his sprint.
My penis moved in and out of Dahyun's vagina like a tamping machine. Every time I inserted it, a large amount of nectar would flow out down the top of her thighs. Dahyun's delicate labia has long been red and swollen from being fucked, but she still tirelessly swallows my huge cock.
"Yes...let's let our baby feel...how it forms in mom's pussy...ahh...going to cum..."
Dahyun raised her head, her eyes blurred, and a wanton moan escaped from her mouth.
My movements became more and more fierce. I grabbed Dahyun's waist, pressed her against the table and thrust her hard, and every time I penetrated her to the deepest point. Dahyun's body began to convulse, and a warm juice surged out of her body, soaking my lower body.
"Ha...it's so hot...Mommy's climax...I'm almost there too ..."
I gritted my teeth, and after the last few deep thrusts, I also cummed a large amount of semen, filling Dahyun's womb.
Dahyun lay weakly on the table, her legs trembling, and the clothes underneath her were completely soaked with water and semen. I pulled out my cock which is still hard, it was covered in the mixture that belonged to both of us.
"You're so beautiful...Mom...I can never get enough of you..."
I leaned down and kissed Dahyun's sweaty back.
Dahyun chuckled, turned around and kissed me back.
"Me too...my son...you are the one who really makes me happy.”
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spatialwave · 1 day ago
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➸ ask: “our brat tamer vik and “oh no. i’m not finished with you yet.” 🤭🤭” – ➸ pairing: viktor x fem!reader ➸ word count: 911  ➸ tags: mdni! shameless smut, nsfw, pwp, semi-dubcon, rough sex, dominant viktor, brat/brat tamer, no use of y/n. ➸ notes: hehe 🤍🤍
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Viktor adored the way your voice squeaked out his name when he pleased you, how your tongue snapped against the back of your teeth at the ‘t’. You were everything to him, there was no one else in the world he’d want to hear screaming his name. How it cracked in your throat when it mixed with a particularly loud gasp.
“Please,” you whined, your body hot as you lay on the couch in your apartment, legs spread wide so invitingly. His face was buried between, tongue sliding along your cunt and tasting you slowly.
This had been a common occurrence lately, neither of you were able to take your hands off of each other the second you were alone in the same room. Call it the honeymoon phase.
Your head lifted from the couch, hardly able to keep your eyes open as you watched your lover eat you out with experienced movements. His were closed, arms wrapped around your thighs as he listened to your sweet sounds that urged him to keep going.
He’d made you cum twice already, working you slowly to each release and watching you unravel with cries of pleasure and body writhing along the couch. Your fingernails had ripped into the fabric beneath you, adding to the tears that had accumulated over the past few months.
“Now,” he breathed against your cunt, the air from his lips warm as he moved to press chaste kisses to your inner thighs, “what did I say about being patient?”
A shaky breath escaped your lips, head falling back again in defeat. 
When you first met Viktor, you hadn’t pegged him for the… well… dominant type. He was far too kind, always wearing that small smile on his lips as he ventured through the academy at Heimerdinger’s side. He shook your hand gently, your eyes taking his entire appearance in. Big, sparkling eyes, thinned cheeks, and two moles on his face that seemed to sweeten his features.
It wasn’t until the night you finally fucked after weeks of tension that built between you and him. You half-imagined to spend most of your night riding him, his hand sliding up your body as you took control and put on a show for him that he’d never seen.
Yet, you were greeted with deep rumbles in his throat as he fucked you from behind, standing at the edge of the bed with you on your hands and knees before him. A harsh hand in your hair, tugging it back when you misbehaved, nails digging into the flesh of your ass.
You were so fucking addicted to him, and the feeling was mutual.
“I am being patient,” you whined, back arching as two fingers slipped easily into your pussy, stretching your tight hole. A gasp settled into the back of your throat, hands settling on your tits so you could distract yourself from the way your cunt clenched around his fingers pathetically tight, needing release.
“Good girl,” Viktor purred, licking at a hickey he’d left on your inner thigh, lips trailing back to your heat so he could lick tantalizing slow circles around your swollen clit.
Your face twisted into one of pleasure as the coil in the pit of your stomach began to twist uncomfortably, signifying your third release of the evening. Here you were, a goddamn mess when Viktor had hardly touched himself yet, aside from a few needy strokes along his cock that he gave himself.
His name fell from your tongue again, eyes snapping shut tight as the fingers inside you pumped in and out, fingers curling just right. Those golden eyes watched you with desire, the way your fingers pinched at your nipples and back arched as you reached your climax.
It was intense, like always, leaving you babbling out his name as your body went limp. You were covered in sweat, hips stuttering as he coaxed out your orgasm with a few slow pumps of his fingers.
“Viktor,” you mewled after the feeling finally washed away, pouting as you pulled away from his hands until his fingers slipped out from your cunt, “please, let me make you feel good,” you slurred, properly fucked out. You attempted to sit up, but his free hand pressed against your stomach and forced you down while he clicked his tongue in disappointment.
“I let you cum because you were being such a patient girl,” he murmured from his position on the floor. Ignoring the pain in his legs to please you, “Stay down.”
Slowly, he climbed onto the couch above you, trapping you. You buried your face into his neck, whining as he settled between your legs.
“Viktor,” you breathed out his name again, the feeling of his fingers back within your folds causing you to cry out a loud whimper. You twitched, hips trying to run from the fingers that had made you see stars and had your body oversensitive, “too much.”
He smirked, ignoring your pleas as a hand wrapped around your throat.
“Oh, no, love,” Viktor whispered into your ear, teeth dragging against the shell of your ear as grabbed the base of his cock, the tip rubbing along your wet cunt, “I’m not done with you yet.”
Your pussy stretched as he fucked you, a rough rhythm that had you clawing your nails down his back and leaving behind red lines. There was no escaping him when he desired you, but you didn’t mind. Not one bit.
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thrfted · 3 days ago
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꩜ DATING MR. CRAWLING .ᐟ
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SFW GN!Reader HCS after the blissful love life ending.
Italics is in the other world’s language! Sometimes more the implied message rather than a direct translation. I'll probably do Mr. Hood later too :3 !
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Your bed is much more comfortable than anything in the other world, and it only makes it better that mr. Crawling gets to be in it with you. He grows accustomed to your nightly routine and is always excited to cuddle up. Big spoon, little spoon, facing each other—all of it makes him as happy as can be!
(^ As someone who still has a twin size, some of us have to invest in a much bigger one lol)
Generally so so affectionate and loves when you’re physically affectionate !! You can kiss his head and he’ll giggle, maybe point at his face and ask “Again!” You leave kisses all over his face, and his hands pull you in close when you finally kiss his lips.
One of Mr. Crawling's strongest traits is his patience—especially when it comes to you. The first day you come home without him trailing behind (much to his dismay, and honestly yours), he’s at the door to greet you, smiling and giggling as you wrap your arms around him. You find out he hadn’t done much but wait for you to come home. (With no complaints of boredom on his part, and all the worry on yours.)
He'll sit as you play with his hair, trying out new hairstyles or putting in clips. “Me cute? Pretty?” he asks. And if you let him do the same in return, he'll giggle and compliment you too.
I think he’d look through your closet and enjoy watching you try on clothes too. He compliments you and feels each of the fabrics, liking the ones that feel softest. He might try on some of the accessories if none of the actual clothes (sort of…) fit, and is really happy when you match!
Mr. Crawling is a fast learner. You worry he'll feel overwhelmed with all the new technology and words and whatever else, so you focus on making sure he’s comfortable. But he points at things and ask what they are, repeating after you. “You teach me language?” he asks and you laugh softly before nodding. “I teach you language.”
He will accidentally touch a hot stove top or pot if you don't remember to warn him beforehand. Then whenever you cook he gets worried you'll hurt yourself, watching to make sure you're alright (forgive him if he pulls your hand away and says “Danger! Don't touch!”)
Since he doesn't know his birthday, you make the day you returned special instead! He's happy to just stay in with you, eating a good meal and watching or learning something new.
Mr. Crawling also learns when yours is and does his best to make it a good day for you too. He tries singing happy birthday and makes food with what you have at home, mimicking the meals he's seen you prepare.
You teach him how to call your phone while you're away. It's supposed to “be for emergencies,” but you both know he's going to call just to hear your voice, and who are you to complain?
I think he gets sad sometimes when he sees or hears you talking to friends—the way you communicate and laugh so easily compared to conversations with him. The other world's language itself is limited, and he hasn't learned enough of your own. You spend some evenings reassuring him, reminding him learning is a process, and it doesn't change your feelings!!
He does his best to learn on his own. You buy (exercise) books and show him shows for younger kids and he spends a lot of time alone with them, both to surprise you, and also just because he loves talking with you and wants to talk more and more.
The first time he speaks your language is a special day. After many days of calling out that you’re back, he decides to say it himself. “You home!” You almost drop everything in your hands, and that’s when he continues, “Miss you.” It feels odd hearing it in his voice, but he’s grinning so wide, and you won’t find out for a while just how excited and nervous he was waiting for you to get home.
One of Mr. Crawling’s favourite things to say and hear is “I love you.” Every time you say it, he gets all giddy and tries to get closer to you (as if that’s possible while already cuddling in bed). He says it a lot while you’re doing chores or really nothing, just to remind you and see you smile. There’s no way in his mind for those 3 words to lose their meaning, or become any less special.
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caitlinsnicket · 1 day ago
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jinx relationship headcanons
warnings: there's some nfsw but it's almost clinical, the usual dark-ish jinx stuff that always comes with her
a/n: guys don't worry she's alive and well here in my house she's actually taking a nap, we're gonna have dinner later
masterlist | 🍉 | ko-fi
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She often forgets to take care of herself: makeup stays on her face for days, her hair becomes matted and dirty at the ends, and her hands are dusty with chipped nail polish.
So you like to take care of her—helping her wash her hair (it really is a two-person job these days), gently washing her face, and making sure she's thoroughly clean before letting her go to bed or even hug you.
And in these moments, when she smells cleaner than she has in years and her hair feels so light she could fly, there are no voices, no buzzing, no sound. There’s just peace and this sense that she could actually have things like these—normal moments and casual actions with you. Most importantly, that she deserves them.
She's sitting in a loose white shirt, eyes closed, humming a song that's been stuck in her head for days. You're behind her, humming along as you brush her long locks. When you're done, you inch closer, placing your hands on her shoulders and start kissing her: first the top of her head, then her forehead when she leans to look at you, followed by her nose. Finally, you pepper kisses across her whole face before pulling back to grab something else for her hair.
She turns to look at you, her eyes dreamy and shiny, her heart beating fast. There’s a small smile on her face.
After that, you both cling to each other on her enormous bed. She switches positions every few moments—from laying her head on your chest, to being the small spoon, to the big spoon, to just fully lying on top of you and burying her face in your neck. She's unusually quiet in those moments, as if she's recharging.
Sometimes, she might talk about her feelings—the ones she doesn’t understand yet and the ones she knows are bad—and she’s thankful you don’t judge her.
Other times, she might just want to jump your bones, thinking it’s an equivalent “thank you” for taking care of her. It takes her a while to understand that she doesn’t have to pay you back for your affection.
There are also moments when you help build her back up: putting makeup on her face again or braiding her hair, carefully working through knots to avoid pulling too hard.
The biggest problem is her staring. You've tried talking her out of it so many times, but while you paint her face or fix her hair, she just stares at you, unblinking.
Sometimes, she starts frowning, taking all of you in. Occasionally, she'll pull back unintentionally, her chest too full of feelings she doesn’t yet understand.
You ask if she's okay, and she responds with a snarky comment, building up her walls again. But eventually, she relaxes into your touch, letting you continue.
It’s actually really hard for her to relax most of the time.
For example, she never fully lets go when the two of you are intimate. Sometimes, while you're eating her out, you catch her staring at you, laser-focused, as if waiting for you to hurt her. “Sorry, toots. Got lost again. But that feels good, so keep going,” she’ll say, laying back against the pillows as if nothing happened.
You used to get really worried and stop altogether, but those dissociative episodes have become fewer and fewer as she gets healthier.
Dancing is something you do almost daily, though it’s not really dancing at this point—it’s just rocking heads, jumping around, and holding each other while spinning.
On rare occasions, you’ll slow dance. She’ll put her feet on top of yours, and the two of you will barely move in circles in the middle of the bedroom. In those moments, she’s as happy as she can be, just existing with you.
You also love annoying her by whispering bad jokes in her ear until she stops whatever tinkering she’s doing because she’s too busy laughing.
Then, she’ll tickle you until you’re crying, cussing you out for saying all that nonsense to her.
492 notes · View notes
s-4pphics · 2 days ago
Text
the call. I (sevika + vi)
SYNOPSIS: reddit: a place for thought-dumping and being horny [college au] WORD COUNT: 9.5K WARNINGS: this was supposed to be dark but its very crack-ish, sevika and vi play rugby(kinda minor plot tbh), oc is a crazy redditor and wears skirts, STALKING, 90% SMUT MDNI(fingering + phone sex + munching + mult orgasms + dirty talk, tensionnnn) brief mentions of grief and loss bc me, recreational drug use, JUST TOXIC, abby makes an appearance later A/N: WROTE THIS WITH MY BABY!!! @trackinglessons art by lottie my love my light my everything this is a product of #OVULATIONWEEK and the #ARCANETAKEOVER
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r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       3y
no one likes me. 
i [f18] don’t have any friends. at all. i don’t have anyone that’s not family that likes me and sometimes im convinced my family regrets keeping me adound. i just moved cities for uni and haven’t been able to have a valuable conversation with anyone and im starting to think i’m the reason why. to be honest i’ve always been the “weird” one or whatever ppl at school called me. but i don’t think im weird at all. I think i’m nice but ppl treat me like a germ lol they just stare and whisper to each other but i know they’re talking about me
does anyone have any advice on being more approachable? or whatever i’m not even sure what to call it tbh.
kewlio313 • 3y
Everybody’s weird in college! You’re young and finding yourself. Join some organizations and put yourself out there! It’ll work out kid 
     artkiller OP • 3y
     i wish there was a chess club lol 
Margie • 3y
how do you go about approaching people? 
      artkiller OP • 3y
      i just walk up and start talking about myself
      Margie • 3y
      Okay… and what’s their reaction? 
      artkiller OP • 3y
it’s different every time. sometimes they just leave, sometimes they laugh then leave, other times they’re outwardly mean. one guy told me to ‘shut the hell up bitch’ and i immediately wanted to commit a federal crime(not murder)
      Margie • 3y
      Goddamn lol. Maybe u r weird 
miKrophone • 3y
shut up hoe
     artkiller OP • 2y
     ?? :/
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       2y
Advice Needed
how do you know if you’re mentally ill?
hello fellow redditors. lol. i’m finally back… very odd first term i think i got ghosted or whatever it’s called by some dude on the hockey team but yeah i plotted homicide. i’m pretty sure that situation sent me into a spiral. i think im sick. 
i’m not sure what’s going on with me but my thoughts have been really dark recently. not necessarily suicidal or harm inflicting(on myself) but… yeah… prettyyyy dark. idk. it’s weird what my brain conjures up sometimes. i guess im curious why my brain thinks the way it does. i’m not a bad person and i know that, but my brain makes me believe that i am. idk what to do at this point. i’ve never been to a professional and tbh i don’t think i should because i don’t wanna be admitted somewhere lol 
kewlio313 • 2y
Welcome back kid. It’s often better to seek help even though it can be fucking horrifying, especially in adulthood. Get help and you’ll be fine
     artkiller OP • 2y
     and if i’m not fine? what do i do then? 
     kewlio313 • 2y
To be frank, I'm not sure. I’ve been through alot and even I don’t have clear direction on life. I’ve been allowing my intuition to guide me for some time. Just try it and see what happens. Rooting for you
     artkiller OP • 2y
     thank you 
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       2y
Advice Needed
am i a lesbian?
i [f19] think im attracted to females. i can’t stop staring at their tits. i always assumed my middle school peeping was from jealousy or whatever the hell twitter said but now that i’m grown i think i wanna fuck girls. or like. girl adjacents??? idk the terminology or whatever. 
PetersJoker • 2y
go eat some pussy and find out
     artkiller OP • 2y
     no fuckhead
kewlio313 • 2y
… Girl adjacents? Females? Are you actually 40? 
     artkiller OP • 2y
     is this a dig
     kewlio313 • 2y
     You crack me up. Have you experimented before? 
     artkiller OP • 2y
     i never passed a science class
     kewlio313 • 2y
     … Alright. 
 I meant hooking up. Have u kissed a girl before? Slept with one? Or whatever you youngins say these days? 
     artkiller OP • 2y
     no. i’m not a slut lol i hardly go outside 
     kewlio313 • 2y
Finding out what you like isn’t being a slut. You’re in college for fucks sake. Find you someone to lay with, ya loser. 
     artkiller OP • 2y
     or i should just shoot myself. less complicated then sex
     kewlio313 • 2y
     Maybe so, but they’re equally as messy. 
ButchesForChrist • 2y
Questioning is usually the first sign. Lol
     artkiller OP • 2y
     fuck me
     ButchesForChrist • 2y
     Well
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       2y
what does sex feel like? (wlw)
[f19] just watched scissor porn for the first time. what the fuck was that. (i need it)
MisandristInTraining • 2y
the work of demons aka men
     artkiller OP • 2y
     i drink their blood
     MisandristInTraining • 2y
     Lmao
OnHorseback • 2y
Feels like dying but emotionally • 2y
     artkiller OP • 2y
     i wanna die physically 
     OnHorseback • 2y
     I’m sure some dirty fuck can set that up for you
     artkiller OP • 2y
     lit
kewlio313 • 2y
Welcome to the dark side. 
     artkiller OP • 2y
     flirt a little harder oldhead 
ButchesForChrist • 2y
Ready to come out? 
     artkiller OP • 2y
     of where
     ButchesForChrist • 2y
     Bitch…..
__
__
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       2y
home sweet home. 
hello found family. been mia bc fuck school but i’m back… and i think im a sadist. 
does anyone know where rugby originated from? i like watching large women be physical w each other and i wish they would harm me in similar ways. pls push me to the floor and stomp me out(specifically directed to one pink head) i’ve been thinking dirty things all day i need her so fucking bad. is this why ppl r so obsessed with sex? bc of hot people? i get it now. i need her to bend me over and put her cleat on my neck
lezziesthatembezzle • 2y
good morning to u too bitch
     artkiller OP • 2y
     big muscly girls pls rail me from da bck 
     lezziesthatembezzle • 2y
     someone muzzle this thot
Accuntress • 2y
A dyke’s pride and joy: large women. 
kewlio313 • 2y
This is crazily your most normal post. Missed ya. Do well in school
     artkiller OP • 2y
     :3 🩷
[deleted] • 2y
The cards are in my favor 
     artkiller OP • 2y
     would you like to sex through private message? 
     [deleted] • 2y
     What the fuck you crackhead
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       2y
Advice Needed
sex addiction while a virgin? 
is this possible? i shouldn’t have watched ppl with big clits trib. quite criminal. even more criminal when i’ve  imagined the girl i’ve been following around for the past 2 weeks doing it to me
[deleted] • 2y
is this who we are…. 
     artkiller OP • 2y
     obviously. 
kewlio313 • 2y
This is my last straw. 
     artkiller OP • 2y
     hugs xD
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       6mo
i’m confessing. 
idc anymore. i don’t give a FUCK. i am in love. i [f21] am in love. the deepest kind i think. love at first sight truly. it’s the kind of love that’s painful. it kills and leaves behind trails of misery if betrayed or lost. whenever i see her, i cry from happiness. her joy is my joy. her hurt is my hurt. our hearts are forever intertwined no matter the distance. i’m writing this for her. if you ever see this: i love you, darling. there’s not a second that goes by where you’re not at the forefront of my mind. i’ll treasure everything we’ve built thus far, and promise to never take it for granted. i hope to die by your side. 
i love you. i love you so much. 
even if we’ve never spoken. 
kewlio313 • 6mo
Yup… she’s lost it, folks. Very deep sigh. 
     ButchesForChrist • 5mo
     That’s part of being a lesbian. She’ll live. Trust me
“Violet! … VIOLET!”
Why’s Sev always so loud in the goddamn library? The receptionist already has tacks on her behavior chart like some kindergartener. “I heard you! Jesus Christ, I’m sitting right fucking next to you—“
“I wouldn’t haveta fucking scream if you woulda answered me when I asked 3 days ago! Are you coming on Saturday?” 
How does she tell Sev fuck no bitch I don’t wanna go in a polite manner? It’s the first weekend after Christmas break and quite frankly, she's already sick of being on campus. Vi loves her friend to death but holy fuck does she wish she had an off button. 
“Just come the hell on and stop—“
“Dude, I—“
“You know it’s not gonna be fun if you’re not there! Half the bitches are comin’ for you! Plus… I think you could use a fun time after… y’know.” Sevika softens — only a bit, she's still Sevika. Hard ass. 
She does know. At this point, who doesn’t? Her last year of university started on a bad foot when her family home caught aflame with her little sister and father still inside, but the icing on the cake was when her long term, blue-haired girlfriend sent her the can we talk? important text. Now she’s single with corpses for relatives(she thinks her sister would’ve found that funny). Her teammates returned to campus with her; eyes mournful and hearts sunk to the bottom of their stomachs, so prepared to shield and coddle when needed. Sev was one of them: through every breakdown and anxiety attack and hungry but nauseating night. 
“I’m not tryna bring up old shit. You been through a lot and deserve some fun. That’s all I’m sayin’. Get your last bit of jitters out before the season starts.” 
Vi nods. She gets it. Losing her sister was just as much of a loss for Sev as it was for her, but somehow, she was able to ease back into herself. Become… normal again. Socializing takes so much energy outta Violet, now. She’d rather go lift or go sock the shit outta rich person. In some ways, she wishes she had as much willpower as her friend. 
She knows why Sev wants her to go. New pussy, new me, her and Abby once told her, but she’s not in the mood to smash right now. She’ll probably start crying if they don’t kiss both her cheeks before her nose like… Ugh. She shivers in disgust… and extreme longing. She misses her ex like crazy. 
“I know. I’ll, uh, think about it.” 
“M’kay… now what the fuck is epitactic theory.” 
“Girl…” 
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       12mi
Advice Needed
how crazy is it to ask for a threesome from two ppl that don’t know you? 
[f21] i’m currently in my campus library watching my girlfriend study with her teammate from my stiff ass beanbag and i need them both like crack. how do i bring intercourse up without making it awkward or uncomfortable? help asap pls
also i might c her this weeknd she’s going out and i wanna go
CreamTeam • 5mi
Wait … so is she your girlfriend or not?? 😭😭 
     artkiller OP • 2mi
     we have a complicated relationship🩷
     ButchesForChrist • 1mi
     Aka she’s stalking her. Scroll down a little
     artkiller OP • 30s
     stay out my business 
     CreamTeam • 1s
     What the fuck
kewlio313 • 2mi
I thought we were better than this, honey. 
     artkiller OP • 30s
     you prob are. im not
     kewlio313 • 4s
     Deep sigh. 
Your phone drops from your jittery hands and into your lap, screen glowing with every disappointed reply from fucking Kewlio who you’ve grown to love. You like to call them a friend. A faceless, emotionally intelligent, oddly attractive friend who you’ve never met. 
The love of your life is right there, as always. Exactly 34 steps away, past the shelves littered with history novels and biographies, sat at the table surrounded by Liberal Arts textbooks and her star-littered laptop. Black jacket, black shirt, ripped black jeans, hair dyed black: that’s new. Still streaked with pink and somehow you’re even more hungry for her. She’s looked a mess recently: beaten and bruised, coming to class with black eyes and bandages across her pretty nose. It makes you wanna burn down the entire Arts and Sciences building with everyone inside of it. 
She’s annoyed with Sevika, you can tell. They’re talking about something. Maybe her sister, rest in peace. Or piss if she sucked. Whatever. A small part wishes you listened a little closer when she talked about Jinx(weird ass nickname, but okay) so you’d know exactly what to ask. She can take out any aggression or sadness on you anytime. In here, outside. You’d drop ‘em for her wherever. 
Kewlio is a dirty liar. You’re not a stalker. You’re a fan, an admirer, a lover. Your girl’s simply unassuming… How the fuck is that your fault? 
She won’t be like that for long, though. 
Vi lost her cleats a few days ago. Her black and blue ones that are worn the hell down and hanging at the seams, but she loves them. Wears them almost every match despite how unsteady they make her on the field. They’re her lucky charm, besides you, of course. 
Her lucky charm found her lucky charms. 
And by found, you mean broke into her gym locker with the code you memorized 2 years ago and snagged ‘em. She should really get those locks changed before someone takes something important. 
The explanation of how you found her cleats exactly? You’re not sure and you’re not dwelling. She’ll be so relieved that you found them that it won’t even matter. Might even drop to her knees and praise you like a God. Is she religious? One of the minor details you don’t know about her. 
But you’ll find out soon enough. No worries at all. 
You wonder how Caitlyn is doing. 
Rabbit holes are either your best friend or worst enemy. Today, they’re straddling the fence. Your brain never shuts off when you're in a crisis. You’re ovulating, overstimulated, and searching for a cure from someone you’ve never said hello to. 
The internet can solve your problems though. Especially if they’re sex-deprived millennials. Their long-term lack of human contact makes for some hilarious stories and useful what-not-to-dos. 
how to finger a vagina 
vagina g spot where is it
where is clit vagina
vagina map
scissoring hacks positions
lesbian sex how to
can lesbians do anal 
is mommy kink a trauma response
Reddit searches are always on your side. All answers to the world at the tip of your fingers. You love the media! Squirting is not pee evidently. PornHub comments are not a reliable source. You should ask your girlfriend if she squirts. 
Caitlyn would know. Fucking BITCH!
how to make girlfriend come
Mansplainer misogynists geeking about making their wives do housework while they sit on their asses and flirt with young Discordians. ‘I clap and she appears’
You should craft a bomb that only targets cis-het men because what the fuck is going on right now. 
how to make girlfriend cum
‘[M48] I’ve never made my wife climax and we’ve been together for 15 years and have 2 children’
Your eyes are fucking burning. Is it bad to wish death on a person? Cursed imagery. Your fingers attempt to salvage the last bits of your sanity. 
how to make girlfriend orgasm wlw
date ideas lesbian
am i crazy quiz
insanity quiz
You’re normal you’re okay you’re literally fine. 
mental illness signs for lesbians
what does dying feel lik
“Ma’am.”
You gasp sharply. Librarian. Fuck oh shit
“Hi. We’re, uh, lockin’ up, so…” 
You’re still at the library. How much time has passed? How many rabbit holes have you fallen into? Where’s your girlfriend? Her and Sev are gone… 
But you know where to find your g-spot! Hooplah!
“Oh ye— Yeah! Uhh… bye.” You stand so fast you get whiplash. Your backpack beats against your back when you adjust the straps on your shoulders. Headphones on, music blasting, and just like that, the world is off and you’re on. Right into the darkness of the city. 
You love a stripper’s playlist in times like this. 
You love Reddit in times like this. 
You walk and walk with an extra skip in your step. Time to drive Kewlio crazy. 
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       1s
guys im happy
the joy that i feel rn is unmatched. i love my life. im so excited for the future. thank you god and or universe for these blessings
And post. Nothing could wipe the smile off your face. Nothing nothing nothing you love it here! You love school. You love your girlfriend and her friends and her sport. 
“Oof—“
“AH—“
You back connects with the angles of your hardcovers and fuck you hope your laptop survived that drop. Not enough cushion in your bag to cover that fall fuck your life you hate everyone—
“YOU FU—“
“Holy fuckin’ shit I’m so sorry are you ok—“
And your mouth zips. Oh…
Oh. 
Your girl’s in running shorts. Squeezing her thighs good ‘n tight and she glistens with sweat, brows pulled down in concern as she eyes you from above. If the fun was still out, the rays would dress her head like a halo. A heavenly sight. You’d die here… but not before a drop of her sweat falls on your face. You need that at least once. Zooweeema—
“Are you oka— fuck, gimme your hands, up ya go, c’mon—“
Oh she’s talking. And grabbing you. 
Your hands are warmed by skin and your spine tickles when you’re pulled to your feet like a feather. The pain in your back and shoulders don’t fucking matter anymore. Life works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it?
“Hi, Vi.” 
“I’m— hey, uh… do we know each other?” 
We love each other actually! 
“No— I uh, sorry! I go to watch your matches and all that. Kinda a fan… Sorry if that’s weird—“
“No no no no, not weird at all. Uh, very flattering actually. ‘Preciate it.” 
You’re gonna fucking pass out. 
“Are you okay though? Nothing hurts, right?” And your knees wobble when a squeezing hand lands on your shoulder, gauging you for pain. No pain. Just deprived. Needy. Desperate. Touch me some more. 
“M good.” 
“Cool…” Her hand drops and you nearly screech like a banshee, “And your name? Sorry bout t—“
You interrupt with yours and she smiles. Nice to meet you, she says with gravel and your heart grows another heart inside of another heart. Holy fucking you’re boutta
“I like rugby.” 
Kill yourself. You’re boutta kill yourself. 
Vi’s eyes widened before nodding in agreement, “Yeah… me too. If it wasn’t obvious enough. It’s a great… stress reliever.” 
So is sex, according to Sexcopedia.edu. Do me. 
“Really? It looks painful sometimes.” 
She sighs with tension, “It is. We gotta lot of aggressive people playing against us so we have to always… do more. I guess, I dunno. But whenever I’m mad it’s great. Very useful.”
“Are you mad often?” 
“Are you studying psychology?” She pins with an arched, slit brow, but her eyes remain light and friendly. It’s funny, she doesn’t appear to be this approachable with her grunge-ness.  
“Nah. I need to, though. Could do me some good.” 
Her laugh is hearty. Genuine. “Shit, me too. Help me out.”
“Do you wanna be my friend?” 
She seems stunned and you don’t know why. Doesn’t banter create friendship? Whatever. Fuck it. She can say no. You don’t care. You still got her shoe—
“Gimme your phone—” 
Your heart drops to the floor, through the concrete, right into the center of the Earth’s crust waiting to burn and cease to exist. She’s got you figured out. You’ve been exposed and she’s gonna fry you in the middle of the damn street
“—I’ll put my number in.” 
… Oh.
You meticulously make sure your notis are deleted and OFF before handing her your device with the keypad on display. Her fingers are pretty and nimble. Flexible with how slender they are. Pretty hands. Pretty, blue veins and you're instantly reminded of her ex. You hate the color blue. 
She hands your phone back, “That’s me. Hit me up when you get… wherever you’re going. And lemme know if I need to cover your medical expenses for spinal cord surgery.” 
You laugh. Really fucking loudly and she flinches, but smiles after. She’s so fucking cute! Is this flirting? 
“Y-Yeah, I will.”
Her head tilts fondly, “Cool.”
“Cool.” 
She gives you one last look before plugging her earbud in to continue her jog. You check her contact to make sure it’s real and fuck you have her fucking number! Fuck fuck fuck fuck
You leap like the happiest frog in the pond when she’s out of your line of view and a sharp pain whips through your shoulder blades. 
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       3mi
lads i just got proposed to. spring wedding in sweden
number collected. so it begins. 
kewlio313 • 48s
Christ help us all. 
CreamTeam • 10s
Ring pics. 
     artkiller OP • 3s
     cawk ring pics***
     CreamTeam • 1s
     Should’ve fuckin known. I hate you genuinely 
Tumblr media
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       30s
when’s a good time to text the girl you’re obsessed with? 
[f21] soooo i’m laying in bed lookignat her contact and idk what to do. i’ve fantasized about this so many times and now its in my lap… im so used to shit going wrong that idk how to react to it going right. it’s kinda late but i really wanna talk to her but idk she might be sleep or whatever. 
should i scale her building and check if she’s awake? :(
Vi doesn’t know why there’s a pit in her stomach. She sits on her teammate’s fluffy rug with a smoked out Sevika who patiently waits for her green light, but it hasn’t come. She feels an oncoming breakdown and she needs a babysitter just in case. 
“Finish this for me?” A roach floats in front of Vi’s face before she pushes it away. 
“No.”
“Buzzkill.” 
Sev and Vi sit in silence for 12 seconds before the roach is stolen and hit by the latter. Sevika snickers. Vi drops her head on the couch and exhales her worries through clouds. Stressed, anxious riddled, maybe not the best headspace to get high but fuck it. 
“Whatcha thinking about?”
She shrugs, “Everything.”
“Talk ta me. What’s happening.”
Vi’s face burns when her mind plagues with you. Your giant bifocals and smudged mascara and acrylic-stained hoodies. You had a backpack on… Could be a student here. You might be a freshman. Vi hates making assumptions about strangers but you seemed a little… 
Immature? Your eyes were too shiny to be a senior. 
“You’re gonna laugh…” 
“I’ll always laugh at your stupid ass,” She snickers. “What happened, though, seriously.” 
Wafts of smoke curl around her words, “I almost bulldozed a girl earlier.” 
Sevika scrabbles to her knees with a slack jaw, “WHAT THE—“
“Oh my fucking god can you be normal for—“
“BITCH BULLDOZED? WHAT THE FUCK FREAKY ASS BITCH—“ 
“NOT LIKE THAT!” Vi scoffs, “I went on a run and bumped into her! Fucking WEIRDO!”  
Sevika slumps back on her ass, clearly disappointed, “… Oh.”
Vi tends to the roach until her fingertips burn, stubbing out the burnt paper on Sevika’s ashtray. When she looks up, she finds a very intrigued looking fox. Here she fucking goes. 
“She hot?”
Vi’s sigh is littered with agitation at her friend while she laughs, “I hadta fucking ask! Tell me! She smell good?” 
“I don’t fuckin’ remember! We talked for like… 2 minutes!” 
“2 is enough time to check her out. Show’a hands, how fat were her tits? Like this?” Sevika mimes holding watermelons that are too goddamn heavy and Vi cringes. 
“You fucking disgust me.” 
Sevika relaxes back onto her elbows, legs extended in front of her. Her brow quirks when she catches Vi’s gaze drop to her waist, “Meh. You like that about me.” 
“Sometimes. Not when I’m in a crisis.”
“Meeting a girl is a crisis now?” 
“Yes! I don’t fucking know, she was…” 
Honestly, Vi’s unsure how to describe you. 
“Does she at least go here! You’re not giving me shit to work with.” 
“I DON’T KNOW—“
“DON’T FUCKING YELL AT ME—“
Vi groans with her palms in her eyes, “She just asked to be friends. She told me she watches us play and that she’s—“
“Back the fuck up,” Sevika raises up again, “Do you not see what’s happening here!” 
“…” 
“You’re actually fucking stupid, wow,” She scoffs, “You know she set all that up, right?” 
“… What in the fuck are you talking abou—“
“She ran into you on purpose! She’s a fan bitch!” Sev reaches for her phone on the coffee table, “What’s her Instagram?” 
Vi whines, “I don’t know—“
Before Sevika can cuss her out for the 40th time, she bursts, “I GAVE HER MY NUMBER!”
“… Did you get hers?” 
“…” 
“BROTHER—“
“Shut up! I’m not… I don’t flirt! I don’t know how, not anymore! She caught me off guard honestly.”
“What's her name?” 
Vi sheepishly mumbles your title; it’s slimy the way it curls on her tongue. You were so nice and now she’s setting you up to be pestered by her best friend. 
It’s silent for 3 minutes, only the pittering of Sevika’s fingers on her device while she hunts for you. Another 4 pass before she tosses her phone in annoyance. 
“You sure you weren’t hallucinating? Nothing’s poppin’ up.” 
“You’re so annoy—“
WHO THAT IN THE BAAAAAAACK, WHO THAT IN THE BAAAAAAACK
Vi’s phone screen glows gray with an unsaved number across the top… One with their area code… Sevika watches the number scroll like a hawk. The smile that grows on her face is crooked. And knowing. 
It’s 11PM. It’s not you. It couldn’t be you. 
“That’s your ringtone?” Sevika snorts. 
“Shut up.” Why’s she so anxious all of a sudden? Her sweaty palms aren’t enough to stop her from reaching for the device, though. 
She answers and puts you on speaker. 
“Hello?” 
“…Hi. It’s me.” 
Sevika’s brow lifts in questioning. Is that her? She mouths and Vi nods. Her eyes roll when her friend whispers, cute voice.  
She’ll never say, but Sevika’s presence re-energizes her. Makes her a little more playful, so she teases, “Me who?” 
A beat of silence passes before you start mumbling to yourself, “I’m gonna fuckin’ throw up is this the wrong per—“
Sevika’s hand flies over her mouth to smother her laughter while Vi coddles you; laughs that she’s joking and that she was waiting on your call. Her cheeks burn when her teammate throws her an accusatory look. 
“Do you mean it?” 
“Mean what?” 
“That you’ve been waiting on me?” 
Before Vi can answer, Sev raises up onto her knees and mimes fucking somebody from the back, face slack with faux and exaggerated pleasure. She ignores the sinful jolt in her tummy and flings a throw pillow right at her face. 
“Yeah, ‘course I was…” 
And then it’s silent again. Her muscles freeze with every deep breath you take over the phone. Sevika waits expectantly, talk to her, she says with flapping fingers. 
“Whatcha up to?” 
“… Uhh… nothing?”
Your laugh is featherlight, “Are you asking me?” 
“Maybe?” 
Sevika’s had enough of the tomfoolery. She wiggles over and hits the mute button with a heavy slam. Leans in close while she whispers, 
“Dude, she’s tryna fuck—“
“No, she isn’t—“
“Yes she is, dodo, did you hear how she was talkin’?” Her tone heightens in pitch, mocks seduction, “You were waiting on me, baby?—“
“H-Hello?” Your mumble is drenched with insecurity. Sevika doesn’t give a fuck. 
“See?” She nearly screams, “She’s DJin’ right now—“
Violet shoves her back before unmuting, “Sorry, m’here…”
“… Was it a bad time to call?” You’re quieter now. Ashamed sounding. Embarrassed. 
“Not at all! Sorry, I was smoking earlier, makes me lose my train of thought.”
“It’s okay…” 
“You make it home safe?” 
“Mhm. I was about to fall asleep but then I remembered to call, so…”
Vi catches her smile before her friend can bully her for it, “So, you called…” 
“Yes,” said excitedly. She can hear your smile. Very puppy-like. Cute. Vi jolts when Sev starts snoring obnoxiously fucking loud. She flicks her forehead. 
“Is someone there with you?” 
Both their eyes widen. A sharp hand raises to slap Sevika, but she flinches before it lands, “Sorry. Just my stupid ass roommate.”
“Hi, Sevika.” 
You’re oddly calm…. But why wouldn’t you be? You had no other intent for this phone call other than keeping your promise. They still share a look though; a brief flash of intrigue and skepticism. How’d you know…
It’s not pondered on for long by Sevika before she sings, “Hey, sweetheart.” 
You sound like the wind has knocked outta you. “H-Hi.” 
Sev singles for Vi to pass the phone over to her. She obliges with a hard stare, “I was just passing through, but while I’m here, I gotta couple… questions. That good with you?” 
“Yes.” 
“Good. You single?”
“Mhm. For forever, sadly.”
“Great. Are we at the same school?” 
“Duh. I’m at every match. We’re, uh… graduating together if everything goes as planned.” 
So definitely not a freshman. Just when Vi thought it was impossible to finish college without a chip on your shoulder. You seem to have made it through just fine. 
Despite Sevika’s reputation of being cold-hearted and abrasive with wicked flirtation skills, she speaks to you like you’ve been in her life for years. Gentle. Inquiring. She lays flat on her stomach with her feet kicked up behind her, “What’s your major?” 
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“Architectural engineering. What’s yours?” 
“You’re so smart. ‘M doing mathematics. You should tutor me when you getta chance.”
“Sure. Just lemme know when. I’m always in the library, so.” 
“Well, what a fucking coincidence, so are we! You coulda dropped by and said hello if that was the case.” 
“I’m trying to do that now… Am I doin’ okay?”
“Just fine actually. Aren’t you sweet.” 
“I taste sweeter.” 
Sevika drops the phone on the plush rug beneath them. Sits upright with urgency. Gawks at Vi whose jaw is nearly in her lap. There’s hardly any air in her chest. She squabbles for her phone and ensures that the volume is all the way up. Holds the device right in between them. 
“… Swear? I don’t think that’s possible.” Sevika hums at you, holding her roommate’s gaze while her tongue traces over the dryness on her lip. 
“You could find out… Both of you can if you wanna.” 
“‘S that easy?” Sevika rasps, and Vi flinches when her breath hits her mouth. Leans in a bit closer to feel more on her face. 
“Why do you sound like that?” Vi huffs at your genuine curiosity. You’re so fucking cute, fuck. 
“Because you’re turning me on, hon,” Her gaze washes over Vi and her skin burns with trails. “Both of us.” 
“Oh… cool.” You exhale unsteadily. They can’t help but laugh at you. “Cool?” Vi repeats. 
“Yeah. Awesome. I’ve never done that to someone before.” 
“You a virgin?” 
“Yup.”
“FaceTime us.”
“I have a Samsung.” 
Both girls explode into laughter, “We’ll call you, then, Jesus—“ Vi sends an eager finger towards the small camera before you mumble, 
“Who says I’ll answer?” 
Sevika tuts, “You don’t wanna watch us kiss?” 
“I’d rather watch in person.” 
Sevika throws Vi a look and she’s instantly reminded of Abby. Usually, that glance — filled with an equal amount of tenderness of filth — is shared between her teammates and she’s forced to endure whatever nonsense they plan to take out on somebody together, but now she’s here. Sevika’s including her in such a sacred ritual. She’s suddenly skittish, “You’re killing me, baby. Whatcha doing this weekend?” Sev quiets, timbre amorous. 
“Playing Overwatch.” 
“Fuck that shit. Come to Kappa on Saturday. Everybody’s goin’.” Sevika snips down at Violet, and she whines while her fingers dig into her roomie’s tank top. A little closer, and they’re kissing. Just an inch—
“What’s Kappa?”
Vi giggles, “House,” Sevika mumbles against Vi’s mouth, “Frat house. Right off 16th. It's bright blue, can’t miss it.”  
“‘K, I’ll go. See ya there.”
“Wh—“
Three dial tones break through the smoke in the air before the screen goes dark, both girls left stunned and… very tempted to track your location. Maybe pop a titty for your RA in exchange for your room number. Wouldn’t be the first time…
… Is that too much? 
It could be, but you didn’t hesitate to drop bomb after proposition, and the selfish part of her heart can’t help but think you wouldn’t mind two ravenous strangers at your front door. The knowledge that they’d give you everything you needed would be enough for you to allow them entry. 
And the way Sevika’s staring at her… Craving, but careful. She’s so patient. 
It’s been such a long time — two years since they’ve had any physical connection. Drunken nights, quickies in the locker room showers— the distractions from grief were all put on the back shelf when Vi got into her relationship. Sevika’s a sleaze, not a homewrecker — most times, so she kept her hands to herself out of respect, no matter how many times Violet would catch her staring where she knew was off limits. 
Vi can't get to you, but she can get to Sevika. 
So she yanks her close, dissolves the space between them as their mouths collide with heat and a newfound ache for you in the middle. Sevika’s just as rough as she remembers — pushes her down so her back molds to the floor, entangles a cinched hand in her hair to pull and expose her neck to the attacks. She’s got blotches and teeth marks on her throat — the unrestrained and possessive and her stomach flips. She gasps at the ceiling when her nightshirt shreds under a forceful hand. 
She hasn’t had the heart to have sex in months — propositions were turned down on dozens of occasions because her mind couldn’t focus on enjoying. Every second of euphoria gets overshadowed by hollow, unforgiving guilt. 
You sparked something in her with your forwardness, that curiosity that left her aching to read your mind. Her best friend, too, evidently. 
Every movement is fast. She crawls down her torso with intent — fangs sharp where they leave blood down her sternum. Vi’s fingers pry Sevika’s shirt off, her tongue separating from her waist for mere seconds before reattaching. An eager hand fondly moves her friend’s hair out of her face. 
You want it? Sevika’s eyes read. 
Yes, I want it, please. Vi says aloud. Eager with a twisting hand in her scalp. 
Sevika sends waves through Vi with every wrestle her tongue devotes to her clit. She can’t think of anything but Sevika and you and both of you at the same time; on top of her — you sat on her face while Sevika’s fingers drove inside her. She wants her tongue inside you; unrelenting and feverish until you scream and soak her tongue in your sweetness. 
Sevika eats like she’s hungry. She eats like she misses having her like this and that wounds Vi up tight; it sends shockwaves down her legs. Makes her twitch, but Sevika forces her still with a tight grip on her waist. 
Vi curses with fluttery eyes when a finger — then two, circles around the entrance that aches for a stretching. 
They’re heaven sent when they push in. She’s getting fucked like she’s hated and she loves it. She deserves to feel like nothing; her walls are selfish where they encase the digits that bring her to the sun, massage against every sensitive ridge just how she needs. Her mouth spills with whatever energy she has left within her; slurred and drooled fuck yes yeses. She can barely conjure a warning when her core locks tight, right before she explodes. 
There’s wetness everywhere while she pulses through her pleasure, thighs squeezing around Sevika’s head with every satisfied moan that vibrates on her clit. Tells Violet to give her more and to take it take it take whatever she gives her like she knows she can. 
It’s not until Violet starts sobbing and Sevika’s mouth is dripping wet that she pulls out and separates from her completely. She kisses her pussy gently before shifting to help unlock Violet’s knees. She shivers with every peck that’s trailed up her torso to her chest to her neck. 
Sevika laughs when Vi does, choked and clogged, but elated and genuine. It’s been so long since her body’s felt this light. 
“You needed that. Ya look better already,” Sevika cackles. “Can you stand?” 
“Fuck off, gimme a sec.” Vi shoves playfully at her chest. 
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       3s
guys. 
i love being a liar. it makes me feel alive never let a bitch tell you lying is wrong it literally makes life so much easier!! wishing everyone a good night. 
everything’s going as planned. just one more tally on the board and we’re set
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       20mi
Advice Needed
it’s been 24 hours and my girl who’s not my girl has been texting me nonstop. 
[f21] hello. im in a crisis but a good one? if that’s possible. long story short im in love but not dating the girl im in love with yet. i took some of y’all’s flirting advice and i think it worked. im betting my life that yall do witchcraft. i barely said anything to her and now she won’t me😝😝😝 and tbh… i think her friend won’t me too!!!!! she’s always asking about my day and asking if i ate and if id wanna eat with her but i always decline bc im not ready physically mentally like i’m gonna combust the second she walks up to me i barely survived our first interaction…… but her friend invited me to a party tomorrow night…….. wtf do i wear to that i’ve never been outside before LOL
might get a train ran on me…… WE’LL SEE FRIENDS 
adding her undies to the shrine🩷 yaaaay
CreamTeam • 14mi
bro is she your girlfriend or not? It’s been years at this point. 
     artkiller OP • 12mi
     yes i mean no or yes :)
kewlio313 • 7mi
Wear something that you wouldn’t wear to your parents funeral. Good luck dear 
     artkiller OP • 5mi
     i would whore out if my family died
     kewlio313 • 2mi
     Good God. 
What does genuine happiness feel like? 
You’re unsure how long you’ve been on your beanbag, but Violet and Sevika have been laughing since you sat down. They’re so relaxed around each other, content with silence. Accepting of failure. 
You’re not a jealous person at all. Far from, actually, but something furies from within whenever you see them — or people, in general, gleeful; the desperation to feel. You haven’t had the privilege. Maybe that’s why you cling to whatever you have with Vi. She has birthed a wanting inside you. A desire for connection after spending decades comforted by the sound of your own voice. Or comments under your posts. 
Violet makes you happy. And Sevika might, too. Just as long as she doesn’t get too close to your light. 
You’re standing right behind Sevika. She can’t see you, but Vi can. Her fear is swiftly overshadowed by delight. She greets you with a smile that makes your heart throb. 
Sevika’s gaze wanders down to your legs, that remain exposed despite the weather, 
“You’re not cold?” She asks. Not exactly the introduction you were expecting, but that makes you giddy. Vi must tell her about you! 
“Yes,” You say with ease, “Y'all should come to my room. It’s warmer there.” 
Vi nods after gawking, 2 books immediately tucked to her chest with her bag on her back. Sevika just laughs. She gets it. You like that. 
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       1s
Advice Needed
how do i mentally prepare for sex? (virginity)
literally fucking freezing walking to my room rn with two burly butches that i want to throw me around and i think they’re going to bc they’re not talking to me but the y are very close i don’t want them to see my screen guys im about to have a threesome pls fucking help me
“Cute room.” Violet says, inspecting your horror movie posters and stuffed animals. 
“Thank you.” You smile. 
I hid the 14 polaroids of you that I had taped to my door. Hope that makes you more comfortable! 
“It’s just you in here?” Sevika chimes, eyes glued to the small bed up against the wall, right next to your PC setup. You should ask if they game afterwards. 
“Yes.” 
Violet takes her jacket off and hangs it on your doorknob. 
“Already takin’ off your clothes?” You plop down onto your freshly made mattress. Both girls look very stiff in your space; Is that normal? Maybe they’re nervous. 
Both girls laugh the same. “Not like that. It is warm in here.” Sevika follows in Vi’s lead, removing her hoodie and her undershirt is squeezing her and yup those arms are still there those muscles are popping out yup yup yup—
“Yeah. I can’t sleep in the cold.” You pat your bedspread for them to sit… and they do. On either side of you. Vi brought her notebook and pencil. Sevika brought her heavily ringed hands. 
She scoffs, “Me neither. Immune system is worse than a newborn’s.” 
“Do you get sick easily?” 
“Yes. I just got over it last week.” 
“Damn…” 
“Almost got me sick,” Violet pins playfully, skimming through her pages. She erases before rewriting. So so so so smart; too bad both her answers were wrong. You’ll show her the way soon enough. 
“Coach would hate me. Her star pupil’s under the weather, what ever shall we do,” Sevika mocks and you both chuckle. 
“The season starts next week. Y’all nervous?” 
“No—“ “Yes—“
“I’m nervous for games, not practice,” Vi corrects, “I can’t find my fuckin’ shoes.” 
“What shoes?” 
“My cleats. My sister got ‘em for me a while ago, wear ‘em every match for good luck. I don’t remember where I fucking put them though.” 
“Aww, ‘m sorry.” 
Sorry for keeping them in my closet. 
“S whatever. Just gotta get new ones.” 
Small talk is boring as fuck, but it continues between you and Vi. Sevika’s quiet as a mouse; every glance in her direction is met with hooded eyes. She’s very focused on your nightstand drawer. Can she see what’s inside it? You hope so; Maybe your unworn thongs will motivate them to move this along. 
“Awww! Wait, you used to play soccer?” 
You already know all this. It’s on her fucking Instagram for fucks sake! 
“On the junior team when I was like… 10! I was—“
Trash. I kept tripping over the fuckin’ ball—
“—And forgetting to tie my shoes. It was a hot fucking mess!” 
Yup. Same as the caption. 
The laughter between you finally quiets. You count 12 seconds in your head. You raise a hand to place it on the Hello Kitty bandage directly under her eye. 
“What happened here?” 
Sevika’s breathing is very calming. 
“Got in a fight,” Vi mumbles. Poor things embarrassed! “Got socked in the eye.” 
“Sorry,” Your hand rests in your lap, “Did I hurt you?”
“You’re good… still stings though. They gotta good one in.” 
“How’d it happen?” 
“Don’t remember honestly.”
“Oh okay.” 
The conversation ends. Another 12 seconds. 
“So… Did you guys fuck after I hung up?” 
Sevika smiles and Vi chokes in shock. They’re so different. No wonder they’re so close. 
“I— sorry, thought we were studying—“
“Who said we were gonna study?” You stare at Vi quizzingly. 
“No one did. We mighta fucked.” Sevika shrugs nonchalantly. 
“Oh… was it fun? Whatever it was.”
“Ask her.” She nods in direction of the girl whose face is beet fucking red. How cute! 
“Vi… was it fun?” 
Her eyes droop to the pencil in her hand before flicking it nervously. 
“… I guess.” 
“You guess?”
“That’s what I said.” 
“… Okay.” 
Vi sets her book and pencil on your nightstand before releasing a stuttered sigh. 
“Tell me what happened if ya wanna,” Softness wafts off your tongue. 
Vi swallows, “I… uh…”
“Mhm?”
“We… I didn’t…”
“I gave her head til she cried.” Sevika whispers right in your ear; tickling against your lobe and you’re suddenly winded. Vi’s legs twist until one crosses over the other. 
Gave… Oh…
This isn’t new information. You’re 79% sure Sevika was Vi’s first kiss… or you heard something like that in passing, so why does the sudden confirmation make you wanna hide? Curl into your blankets and shield yourself from both of them? 
“Oh… fun.” Your face burns underneath the skin.
“Very.” 
“Yup…” 
“You’re shy now? After all that?” Sevika almost laughs when your eyes drop to the floor. 
“It’s uh, easier to talk when no one’s actually there.” 
“We coulda been if you’d answered the fucking phone.” 
“… Sorry.” 
“It’s okay, baby.” 
Sevika’s captain of the team for a reason; a leader by nature and Vi allows her to despite her anticipation. She's much closer now, the respectful distance she kept up upon arrival now completely shut, her shoulder touching yours, nearly straddling your leg. 
There’s a light tickle on your thigh; Sevika’s index finger barely grazes the skin exposed beneath the hem of your skirt. 
“You’re so stiff,” She whiffs tender against your neck and you choke a noise. 
“I’m … ‘mscaredtobreathe—“
“Don’t be scared,” Sevika’s whole hand caresses your knee, eases you into her, all while Vi mouths at your neck. “Here, wanna know a secret?”
You release the air in your lungs, “Sure…” 
She’ll never tell, so I will. Your head bobs so encouragingly. 
Vi told me something after she showered that night. 
With every buttery brustle against your shoulder, Vi’s hands gently attack wherever they can reach; the plush of your hips, on your thighs, grabbing at your tummy over your hoodie that takes up too much fucking space for her liking. You can’t stop squirming with every taut pull at the pit of your stomach. 
I was sitting on my bed and she came in, and she smelled so good. I was trying to roll up again, but she took my tray and put it on my dresser… 
Roll up? Tray? What what what the fuck is she saying—
And she got on her knees in front of me… and she looked so fucking cute just staring up at me like that, like she’d do anything to make me happy… She’s sweet like that if she’s in the mood. 
She said ‘may I practice on you, please?’… And I said okay… So she pulls down my underwear and treats me so well. You wanna know who she was practicing for? 
Yes, yes, please—
It was you, baby. She kept telling me how good she wanted to make your first time. 
A strained noise chokes from your throat, and Vi smiles against your ear before her lips close around your lobe and it’s too much they’re too much—
Uh huh, and her tongue felt so fucking good on me. Almost impressive… and she loved every second of it. 
Please… please, I’m— 
Listen to that, Violet, she’s so fucking cute, isn’t she?
So sweet, too. Bet she tastes so fucking good. 
She’s so hungry for you, baby, Sevika coos at you, Gonna stop teasing and give us what we want? 
You agree obediently — desperately, with every thrumming cell you can use at the moment. 
Vi’s benign hand rests on your cheek to turn you towards her before kissing you softly. A gentle peck before she pulls away. It’s overstimulating; Vi kissing and touching you like you’re made of glass while Sevika sucks large bruises on the side of your throat. Your nails dig into the muscular thigh that hardly shakes at your grip in attempts to ground yourself, but they fail because you’re about to faint. 
Your sun kisses you deeper, holds your face tighter to keep you where she needs to tongue at your lips. You’re trying to keep up with her, to use the muscle like she uses hers, but you’re falling behind. They don’t seem to mind, satisfied with the fact that they’re gonna devour you regardless. 
And when Vi lays you back nice and cozy against your pillows while Sevika kisses all over your face, you know you’re fucked. 
Sevika and Vi take turns kissing you. 
It’s a messy and uncoordinated mess of teeth and saliva, mainly because of you, but you like it. You love it. You hope they do, too. The warmth of their bodies beside you resonates deep in your core. Whenever one of them pulls away, the next is more than open to take her place, over and over. Your thighs are already shaking. 
Your hoodies raised up thanks to Vi’s wandering hands, tucked right above your rib cage. Your stomach jolts when a feathery finger teases at the band of your skirt. 
“You ticklish?” Vi mutters against your cheek. 
“… Nope.” 
“Yes—” She swipes the same finger against your exposed skin and you jump with a giggle, “you are. Liar.”
“Fuck you!” 
“Yeah… I really, really want to.”
She doesn’t give you time to think of a response; just kisses you one last time before climbing onto her knees. Meanwhile, Sevika’s struggling to get comfortable in your bed. She’s essentially on top of you, both her legs wrapped around one of yours. 
“Fucking — small ass mattress! I forgot how much I hate these!” 
“S-Sorry! Couldn’t afford anything else — mmh!”
Sevika reconnects your mouths while the bed dips beside you. Then there’s lips on your tummy. 
Laughter explodes outta you; Sevika can’t help but laugh into your mouth while Vi nibbles at your pudge. Her grin glows on your skin before her tongue glides on your hip. Her attention stays there; sloppy noises from above and below, your gasps swallowed with every bite Vi gives you. 
You hardly register her pulling your skirt down. You’re just colder. And fuzzier in the head. Sevika breaks away to ask, 
“How wet is she?”
Huh— oh she’s not talking to you yup yup—
“Come see.” 
Sevika rises from position and you’re even colder. When she whistles at the spot on your underwear, your thighs squeeze shut… for 000.3 seconds before she pries them open again. 
“Stop I’ll fucking cry—“
“Cry about what? That’s so fucking hot. You’re so cute, baby.” 
“Bro I wanna die—“
Sevika rolls her eyes, “Bust one last time at least, damn.” 
“Can we make it quick please I’m already on the verge—“
“Of cumming?” Sevika purrs.
“Of suicide—“
Vi’s in hysterics. You shouldn’t be this fucking funny. She watches you and Sevika go back and forth with tears in her eyes. 
You bite, “Wonky ass foreplay—“
“I’ll strangle you—“
“I’ll like it—“
Both of you are fucking stupid. Neither of you notice Vi tugging your panties down. She almost starts drooling at the sight of your pussy. Swallows down the lump of saliva before it can drip down her chin. You’re wet and throbbing and pretty and you smell like heaven. 
You gasp when two curious fingers separate your sticky lips; strings of slick cling to Vi’s digits. Sevika watches with an insatiable hunger.
“What do you like?” Vi whispers, and you shrug. 
“I dunno, I’m new here.” 
She rolls her eyes, “I mean what do you do when you touch yourself? 
“I don’t do that.” 
“Never?” Both girls exclaim. 
You shake your head. “I tried once and nothing happened so I just ate spaghetti and went to bed.” 
“Were you wet?” 
Vi’s forbearing with her inquiries, but still, you’re on the fucking spot and you might start sneezing from anxiety. They’re too patient with you; Maybe you’ve been misreading how they were in bed this entire time. You were expecting them to be knuckles deep in every available hole by now. 
You’ve never been so nervous, and for you, that’s saying a lot. “I don’t remember, it was years ago.” 
“You’ve never used toys or anything?” 
“I… No.”
Sevika stares at Vi, and Vi at Sevika, and you at the wall. 
Your thighs twitch when velvet nuzzles at them, Vi’s voice deep as the ocean. “I’m gonna try something, tell me if you like it and I’ll keep going… okay?” 
You can’t formulate a response but your head bounces in approval. A finger applies the gentlest of pressure on your clit and you expel a wheeze. 
“Okay?” Sevika hums from above you, a hand easing underneath your hoodie to massage your breast. 
“Ye-ah—“
“Sit up for me, honey,” She whispers and you obey so she can creep in behind you, your back resting against her chest. Both her hands rub at your chest this time, her fingers massage your nipples while Vi strokes your clit in slow, teasing circles. 
“How’s this feel, babe?” 
“G— good! Great… h-hooray?” How do pornstars dirty talk so eloquently? You’re literally fucking dying right now. Sevika laughs to herself in your neck and your chest burns. 
“Yeah? And this?” She utters right before pressing in, flicking you from side to side and your core squeezes tight. You’re dripping and she watches so closely. 
“Oh fuck—“
“There she is, good girl, just feel what she’s givin’ you.” Sevika rasps against your shoulder. 
You are feeling and it’s too much for your body to comprehend. Your brain’s never been this focused on one thing. On one feeling, especially one this enjoyable. It’s so good it’s so good you love your fucking girlfriend—
“Tell me when you’re gonna cum?” Vi says against your soft skin
“Uhh…? I— oh god—“
“Getting there, baby? Feel how tight you’re getting? I can see it.”
2 ragged inhales and your eyes roll back and your jaw slacks and your nose tickles oh shit—
“Yeah, yeah, give it to me, c’mon—“
ACHOO!
Your thigh squeezes shut when euphoria overtakes your entire system; thighs clamping shut around Vi’s wrist while she giggles and rubs out your pleasure with ease because she’s stronger than you. Your initial efforts of staying as silent as possible were in vain because you’re squealing your little head off. Sevika rests back on her hands and watches like a hawk while you thrash and clench and leak all over her roommate’s hand. 
“Good job. Felt nice, hm?” 
You struggle to nod because you’re still cumming so hard and her fingers won’t cease on you. Your thighs stick together with your wetness. 
“I’m still eating you out, you know that, right?”
Your whines of approval sound wounded. 
You couldn’t see it, but when Vi finally pulled her hand from you, slurping noises swiftly followed, alongside Sevika’s hums of satisfaction. 
Mentally preparing for your burial. 
Vi might be obsessed with you. 
She’s back in her original position between your thighs — with Sevika this time because she’s greedy — and fuck she’s never been so antsy to give head. She loves it and she loves getting it even more… at least she thought so. The aliens could come crashing down from the clouds and her first focus would still be getting you to soak her face. 
You’re fully undressed now, minus a sock that slipped off some fucking where but she doesn’t give a fuck. She’s so desperate to touch you again. It plagues her mind; stuffed with everything that she’s learned about you thus far. You sneeze before you orgasm for fucks sake that’s the cutest shit ever —
Can I?
She’s asking you and you’re whispering yes, please and fuck you moan so pretty when she first glides her tongue on you. Sevika allows her to ease you into the feeling, but she stays close enough to see every drop of slick that glides on Vi’s tongue. You’re so noisy and she loves that. All she can think about is how loud you’d be with your face in her pillow and your hands behind your back while she —
Vi! Violet! I’m cumming again! 
You’re a fucking dream. An insane fucking freaky ass dream. 
If anyone were to walk past your room right now, they’d be appalled at the ruckus that permeates through your space; sloppy sucking noises and encouraging praises and dehumanizing name calling that makes you grind your hips faster. You’re nearly riding her fucking face. 
Vi wishes she could see you in entirety; memorize every thrust and wriggle you give into her face, drowning her in your scent and juices and everything she could ever want in this moment. You’re exactly what she needed; a pliant distraction. You turn her mind off so easily. 
Sevika’s greedy and selfish as she raises one of your legs up with ease. You fall back onto the mattress with your back arched to the skies, a cracked wail squeezing from your lungs when another tongue smushes against your clit. Sevika sucks hard at your clit when Vi’s tongue swirls down to meet your entrance. The eager muscle wastes no time to shove inside and catch whatever bursts from you. 
She moves on autopilot; eases one finger past your pulsing heat and your legs start to shake. The digit curls deep inside, plunges into you with vigor and determination to get you there, hits a spot that almost lands her a kick in the back of her head, but she catches you; curls an arm around your thigh to keep you still. 
And the night — or afternoon or morning, none of you remember, continues like that until you’re drained completely dry and your body contracts from memory. 
Hours pass when Sevika and Vi finally start tonguing each other down for your viewing pleasure, and it starts all over again. 
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       1s
2 butches are sleeping next to me rn… 
never let a hoe tell you to stop following your dreams. i’ve been following mine for almost 3 years and now they’re sleep next to me…. 
#HAPPYPRIDE
418 notes · View notes
shysuccubusstuff · 2 days ago
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Yandere! Mr. Scarletella:
Content: violence + stalking + voyerism + picture taking + masturbation + stealing + break of privacy + neutral reader + tampering with your food + noncon content + Stockholm syndrome. + mindbreak.
Summary: Human! Scarletella just wasn't able to stop himself from stalking falling in love with such an amazing person, God, he just loves stealing borrowing your stuff!
Note: So, I just had to write something about this amazing game, feel free to check it out and support the creator!!
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SFW:
Yandere! Scarletella who fell in love since the first time he saw you around university, always being around those other guys... But he knew he just had to wait, yeah, wait for the right moment to approach you.
Yandere! Scarlatella who keeps randomly appearing on your classes from time to time. Oh, he isn't even in your course, but taking a few extra classes or even skipping some of his is no issue for him.
Yandere! Scarlatella who makes sure to get close enough so he can steal a few things from you while in class, sometimes it's your old pencil, other times he just takes whatever has touched your hand that class. That includes waiting until the university is closing to take your thrown away coffe cup (it still has your salive, so he has definitely kissed you, right?).
Yandere! Scarlatella who keeps on appearing on your daily life, you try to act as if the constant encounters are just mere coincidences, not like he even tried to strike up a conversation with you, so there must be no danger, right?
Yandere! Scarlatella who sometimes follows you back to your doorm. He always makes sure to walk quite far away from you trying to avoid freaking you out as he knows it would affect your daily routine.
Yandere! Scarlatella who climbs up the tree just to be able to catch a glimpse of your face while you're sleeping. You look so beautiful with your lips sligthly parted! ♡ You don't know it, but he has found a way of opening your window while you're sleeping. When he feels extra bold, he lets himself run his fingers through your soft lips feeling your warm breath is just enough to get him hot and bothered ♡.
Yandere! Scarlatella who begins to be feared by all your friends. They keep warning you about him, but it's not like you have any proof of what he's doing, such a shame :(( jk. He made sure to state his point, beating your poor friends to a pulp if he saw them getting a bit too close to you, he made sure to leave no visible marks, he doesn't want you worrying your pretty little head.
Yandere! Scarlatella who loses it after seeing that creepy long-haired guy far too close to you, if you wanted him to kidnap take you with him already you could've just said so dummy! Of course he wastes no time taking you from those filthy guys. You will be safe with him ♡.
Yandere! Scarlatella who breaks your poor mind after being trapped several months. Maybe being taken care of isn't so bad, right?
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NSFW:
Yandere! Scarlatella who masturbates to your sleeping face, his tip being dangerously close to your lips. He can't stop imagining them surrounding his lenght...♡ He knows he has to keep patient but each day it becomes harder to act neutral.
Yandere! Scarlatella who takes photos of your clothed cunt for his collection. This collection includes many versions, from more tame ones (you smiling) to less... ethical ones (your sleeping face).
Yandere! Scarlatella who robs your underwear while you sleep. He just needs some... extra motivation. So he uses them, wrapping them around his cock as he keeps moving his hand up and down, making sure to stain your poor underwear with his sperm. He makes sure to clean them throughly before giving them back to you, although he sometimes wishes he could just cum inside the underwear you're currently using.
Yandere! Scarlatella who keeps on putting his own fluids on the stuff he feeds you. Most days he keeps it tame, deciding to introduce a bit of his salive on your food/drink, but when you behave extremely bad, he uses his cum, mixing it with your food together with some aphrodisiac, just enough to make you lose a bit of your sanity from not being able to masturbate.
Yandere! Scarlatella who keeps cameras all around his house so he can see you from different angles (all make you look like an angel ♡). He may or may not use those videos to masturbate, just maybe.
Yandere! Scarlatella who begins to use your mouth to release himself as a reward. You were just so eager to be touched! He just knew you were in love with him! It has definitely nothing to do with him being the only human contact for over six months! You let him use your mouth as he wants, forcing his cock into your throat, those sinful sounds filling his room as you try not to puke from his tip hitting the back of your throat.
Yandere! Scarlatella who slowly begins to mark your whole body as his. He started by marking your face with his cum, moving on to your mouth and then to your beautiful chest, the next step was of course cumming all over your low abdomen.
Yandere! Scarlatella who refuses to cum inside of you. He keeps controlling himself by saying that he wants to make sure both of you truly love each other... that's... well. Let's just say that he is just another level of delusion, but don't worry, he would never give up on his sweet and precious darling ♡ !
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felassan · 2 days ago
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David Gaider on Fenris, under a cut for length:
"Fenris. Now, DA2 is a story all on its own but I'm not going to go there other than to sum it up as "we had just over a year and a half to make this". It's why I only wrote one follower, Fenris, and although it'll make his fans mad: I probably shouldn't have. Let me explain. The way we'd approach making the followers is brainstorming a list of concepts covering first the array of gameplay classes (and sub-classes) and then making sure they each have some skin in the game when it came to the story's conflicts - ideally having characters on both sides of the major ones. Why? You can't make a player care about the world, but you can make them care about characters who care about the world. It's the easiest way to provide hooks into a conflict, outside of it knocking on the player's door. Heck, it's probably better than that. Players will burn the world for approval. After that, we'd decide things like romances/sexuality. Then the writers would pick who they'd write. I always let my writers pick first. I figured they do their best work when it's something they're inspired to write... and they got so few chances at ownership, I wanted to give it whenever I could It's why I (reluctantly) let Patrick wrest Cole from my grasp in DAI, a character I'd created in Asunder. It's also why I let Jennifer take Anders in DA2, who I'd started in Awakening. In this instance, it meant I was left with the angry elven warrior character who nobody else appeared to want."
"It should have been my first clue that something was up. The second was how the artists had zero clue what to do with him. The art concepts were all over the place - from mages to crows to... well, even weirder. No matter how hard I tried to explain the idea, the artists simply didn't seem to get it Does this mean he was a bad character? Not exactly. Just an idea that probably deserved some re-examining. You can tell when an idea has a certain spark, and part of that is being easy to communicate. Sadly, there wasn't time for any re-examining even if it'd occurred to me. And it didn't, not yet. If it had, if I had time, maybe I'd have re-booted him as a templar. Someone pro-templar rather than anti-mage, who could give a personal hook into Meredith and give the templars some badly-needed humanity. But this falls into the shoulda-woulda-coulda category. I had a follower to write. Quickly. I struggled, at first. It was hard to get away from "Fenris hates everything, all the time". It felt very one-note, and I didn't know where to take him. My third clue, I guess. I also wasn't sure if I was the right person to write a former slave. I did know that couldn't be the center of his story. I did know trauma, however. How it can eat you up. How the hate and resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies. How it can infect your relationships. Fenris's trauma isn't my trauma, obviously, but here I dipped into a more personal part of myself than I'd ever done before."
"It gave me the center of his story I was missing, but wow was it uncomfortable. In a good way, maybe. I likely wouldn't have, if I hadn't been so desperate. In a way, I think DA2 had some of our best writing *because* of the timeline. It was raw, with little time to sand down the interesting parts. I wouldn't have done the "Fenris doesn't talk to you for three years" thing if I'd known we were going to cut all the reactivity initially planned for the time jumps. When that call was made, I campaigned to cut the jumps to a year, but there was no time for the revisions it'd need. So, um. Awkward. I used to get asked where the name came from, and I... don't remember? Obviously it's derived from Fenrir, but I don't recall why we picked that. Someone pointed at Fenris the Feared from Joe Abercrombie's books... and I did read them, so maybe the name lodged in my head? Wouldn't be the first time. Casting Fenris turned out to be easy. He was the first time I requested a specific VA and got him. (The other times were Merrill and then Solas, my two "I want these specific Welsh actors, please".) Why? OK, if you must know, I'd played a bit of Final Fantasy XII. I heard Balthier. "Yes, that." 😅 And Gideon Emery was a delight, as it turned out. Consummate professional, and that lovely gravel in his voice... good god. Bite the knuckles. There was a struggle to find the voice at the outset where I did my best not to say "just pls do Balthier" but he found Fenris on his own and it was amazing. Overall, Fenris turned out better than he had any right to, considering the rocky start. He had a lot of soul, a vulnerability forged by pain that struck a chord with a lot of players, and I'm glad. Do I regret anything? Probably having him live in a corpse-filled mansion that would never update. That's a hindsight thing, though, as again the cut to reactivity over the time jumps came late. Outside of that, maybe letting the player give him back to Danarius? Poor shock value and a waste of resources because almost nobody took the option. Good evil options are ones that are tempting to take. And the lyrium tattoos. Interesting concept, but they're probably why you'll never see Fenris in a future DA. He requires a custom body, and the tattoos make that expensive. It's why I put Fenris in my 4th DA novel - the cancelled one. Don't fret, though. He died in it, so this way he lives on. 😉"
[source thread]
User: "Wait wait how does he die in [the cancelled novel]??" David Gaider: "Gloriously, after taking up a cause he didn't believe in at first but then made his own, one that allowed him to rediscover what it meant to be elven." [source] David Gaider: "I’m not sorry about the novel cancellation. I’m the one who cancelled it. I am kinda sad we couldn’t make it work, though. Considering it was after I left the DA team, it would have been my final DA hurrah." [source] David Gaider: "From my perspective, it was kind of "well if you're never going to use him again, let me at least give him a proper send off" and the story required a glorious death... but I get that's not the story his biggest fans would want (which is Hawke + Fenris 4ever), so it's just as well." [source]
User: "You all did some incredible work with such a tight deadline" David Gaider: "I'm of the opinion that even if we'd had only another six months to bake, DA2 would be remembered as a classic and not either a flawed gem or underbaked sequel, depending on who you ask." [source]
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lostintransist · 3 days ago
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Secrets Are For Grown Ups
I am demanding my smooches now.
@beloveds-embrace @cherrycosmos392 @mxtallymarks @love-kha1
CW: Asshole Simon and Johnny using you for sex instead of each other. Calling out someone else's name during sex. Pregnancy mentioned. Death of a spouse mentioned.
Simon slipped. Well. Simon slipped first. Johnny slipped up too. They ruined you, tugging you between them instead of reaching out for the other. You couldn’t fathom them caring. Even now.
If they cared about you they wouldn’t have touched you. You had been twenty-four and still so young. God, you were thirty now and still felt like you didn’t have a handle on life. Johnny had been twenty-nine and Simon thirty-three. Old enough to know better. At least to know better than you.
A series of coincidences led you to a one-year work visa and as an American transfer under the 141 task force. You handled paperwork mostly, and whatever didn’t involve paperwork meant dealing with your counterparts back in DC. You keep slightly funny hours to stay working on Washington time but that wasn’t unusual for anyone else who shared your building. The lights stayed at a low dim all day and night because three pm and three am felt a lot alike when rolling in off a job.
You were a nodding professional with Captain Price, Lieutenant Sanderson, and Sergeant Garrick. Sergeant MacTavish flirted with you. You accepted it with a wary eye and a cool confirmation of what he meant each time. Lieutenant Riley watched. He never spoke to you unless he needed something until the night in the bar. Six months had elapsed on your visa when Gaz, as he had asked you to call him, invited you to the bar with everyone. Seeing no reason to not say yes you had gone.
Off base and with a little buzz in your veins you let Johnny flirt. He insisted on his first name as he sidled up close to you halfway through your first drink. You’d always been wary of Johnny’s flirting. He’s attractive with all the muscles he maintains for work, the air of danger that lingers around him like cologne, and that barely visible scar near his lip. Problem is he knows it. Or at least he knows people react to him with pretty privilege. He makes you laugh. You don’t know why it surprises you, of course, he had to have a good sense of humor to deal with his job.
Lieutenant Riley was watching again. The prickling of your senses that tells you a predator is watching is what gave it away. Staying at the bar smiling at Johnny seemed safer until you had to pee. Passing your cup to the bartender with a quick ‘I’m done with this’ you excuse yourself from the bar and wend your way around the nearly touching tables to find the bathroom.
The narrow wood-paneled hallway had a single bulb shining down on you from a sconce high on the wall. Taking the time to dry your hands completely you pause when you see that the hallway has gone dark. Diffusing light from the main room reaches only so far into the darkness. Scanning you see nothing out of the ordinary and let the crack of light from the bathroom disappear as the door settles closed.
Running the tips of your fingers over the wall, the bumps telling the tales of so many decades of drunken bathroom trips, you touch something that is made of steel and flesh. Jumping back with a squeak you search with your gaze for anything.
“Why does Johnny like you?”
Riley. You let out the breath you had been holding. It’s Lieutenant Riley, not someone who would hurt you.
“You know sir I have no idea. Do you know?” You aimed your voice up.
“I might have an idea.” He surprises you with a touch to your neck. Trailing up to your jaw before dry lips brush against yours.
Stepping back you gave a startled exclamation.
“Ah…uh..Excuse me, Lieutenant, I think I need to go home.”
Skirting around him you flee like a hare that caught the sense of a hawk in the sky. When you retrieve your purse from the chair next to Johnny you find a beautiful woman draped across it talking him up.
“Sorry, I just need my bag,” you said drawing both of their attention to you.
“Ah, bonnie,” Johnny started sadly, “Heading out so soon?”
“Yeah um,” you scratch the back of your head, low near your hairline. “I need to head home.”
Standing he ignored the woman flirting with him entirely.
“Let me walk you home?” He steps too close to you but the body in a chair directly behind your ass keeps you from moving for more space.
Glancing to the storm brewing in the woman’s face you try and redirect him.
“I mean you looked like you were having such a good conversation I’m gonna go wait for a cab. Thank you for the offer though. I will see you at the office tomorrow.” With that you scooted past, unsure how you felt about the full body contact required.
Okay, well your lady bits knew exactly how they felt about it but you as a person? You were unsure. It felt like you had been dropped into a game that you didn’t know the rules of. It continued on like that, them pushing you and breaking your boundaries down one touch at a time until Simon pounded into you from behind in a supply closet. You crept closer to that temporary oblivion when Simon slipped.
A guttural moan washed over your back, Simon’s fingers tightening down on your hips.
“Johnny, oh Johnny!” He came then with Johnny’s name on his lips.
Any chance of an orgasm on your end dried up like a puddle on concrete in direct sun. Simon didn’t notice, pulling out and cleaning up the mess he had made of you before pulling you up and then your underwear. He gave your ass a light tap and planted a kiss at your temple before leaving you to the scent of cleaning supplies.
You worked the day in the eye of a storm. Mentally reaching out to touch your emotions you found only a torrent of fast-moving thoughts and feelings. You made it to your flat before the pressure of the eye wall faulted, crushing you under its weight. The next week you had a hard time eating, focusing, and doing anything outside of work really. Work had you hyper-vigilant always on watch for the spooky silent lieutenant that might try to pull you into a dark room. You didn’t think you could survive another encounter with Johnny’s name on his lips.
Oddly enough Johnny noticed the distress you seemed to be under and took to feeding you. He dropped off a snack at your desk every day and chatted with/at you until you ate it all before disappearing into the bowels of the building again. Three weeks after the Simon incident as you had taken to calling it in your head Johnny had pulled the same shit.
Flat on your back, knees nearly touching your ears he rammed into you. Pleasure crested for you as he could no longer hold on.
“Simon,” the breathy whisper betrayed him. He must have thought you to far gone in your orgasm to hear him.
They had to be fucking kidding you.
Would it hurt less if they were kidding you?
How the hell were you supposed to deal with this happening to you twice?
Johnny pulled out and flopped face down on his bed beside you.
Sitting up slowly you lay a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m gonna use the hall bathroom to go pee. I’ll probably be a minute.”
He grunts his acknowledgment and you set your exit strategy into action. Johnny knew you preferred to put your clothes back on for cuddles if you left the bed for any reason. Grabbing up all of your items you stepped from his bedroom hugging your clothes so tight the zipper of your jeans bit into the side of your breast. Peeing and washing your hands you dressed.
Stepping from the bathroom you called down the hall to Johnny.
“Do you have any cheese or nuts?”
“In the cabinet or the fridge,” came his return call.
Good. He wouldn’t think some odd sounds coming from this direction odd then. Tying your shoes on you open and shut a couple of cupboards and the fridge before rattling the dishes in the dishwasher grabbing your purse and leaving his flat.
Johnny didn’t come after you if he noticed your absence. Arriving home you noted the time. It was four pm on a Friday, Captain Price would still be at the office doing paperwork.
You called him as you started packing.
“Price.”
“Hi, Captain. I am just calling to let you know there has been a family emergency back home and I will be hopping on a plane tonight. I don’t know when this will be resolved. Can you send me any paperwork that I will need to complete so my work visa will close out as it should?”
“I’m sorry to hear about the family emergency, you let me know if you need anything. Your contract will run its course, including the agreed-upon pay, and conclude the day before your visa expires. The only thing you will need to worry about is talking to an accountant out here to figure out your share of taxes to be paid.”
Captain Price had always been like that with you, straightforward and honest. Unlike his men.
“That sounds reasonable and doable. If you have a recommendation of a firm I can reach out to that would be immensely helpful,” you stare at your shoe options, deciding which ones to leave behind since your bag was getting too full with the haphazard way you filled it.
“I don’t have one off the top of my head but I will ask around. Will this number still work?”
“No, this is a UK number that will probably stop working somewhere over the Atlantic. Can you send the info to my work email? I will be able to access that until my visa expires right?”
“That is correct. I will send it there. Safe travels and thank you for all of your hard work with us.”
“Of course, and thank you for being a good captain and a good man to work with.” You ended the call before he could think to question the sentence.
A call to the cab company came next. With the car ordered you left a voicemail for your landlord telling him the same information, family emergency feel free to rent the flat out now. It was a furnished option so nothing here that held an emotional attachment would fit in your suitcase.
The only thing you left behind was a framed photo of you standing with all the guys at a party face down on the table. Anything else you weren’t taking got bagged and sent to the bins.
You cried at the airport, and on the plane, and waiting for your sibling to come and save you from the airport. Telling someone that you had been coming would have been smart, but the only goal was to escape. When they arrived Ash gave you the biggest hug which started your crying all over again. You stayed with them and their partner as you tried to piece your life back together.
Taking the month you still received pay from England you walked the trails of the mountains you called home. They brought you so much peace, like hiding in the skirts of a trusted mother. When you reestablished care with your midwives you found out that your arm implant birth control needed changing, it was overdue. Standard procedure for a well-woman check included peeing in a cup.
“Are you aware that you are pregnant?”
The thin nurse midwife with wrinkles, a long dusty brown braid, and beaded necklaces ringing her neck looked at you from the computer. You must have gone white as a sheet because she reacted by having you lay on the floor, elevating your feet, and calling for assistance. Your uterus had been achy. That’s why you scheduled the appointment.
Pregnant? You weren’t nauseous or overly emotional, only a little tired and achy. This was nothing like being pregnant on TV.
Fuck. That meant Johnny or Simon had to be the father.
Did you even want to keep this pregnancy?
Another nurse with a kind face joined you and your nurse in the room, dragging in a portable ultrasound machine.
“Hi dear, this is a bit of standard procedure. There are a few reasons that a pregnancy test can pop positive. We want to rule out some of the harder-to-care-for options. Do you think we can help you stand and get on the bed?”
At your nod the nice nurses helped you to your feet and held on as you climbed onto the bed, laying back. They had you move your shirt and your pants and undies until the top of your pubes were visible. A grainy image appeared on the screen as the nurse glided the probe to and fro in the slimy gel.
“Alright, this here,” she pointed to a roundish object, “is your left ovary. That looks good. This will help me find your uterus.”
She slid down pressing slightly harder into you.
“Here is your uterus and there looks like one, two little embryos.” She pointed with her finger at each little dot.
“Twins?” you whisper, shocked and aghast.
“That’s what it looks like but things this early can change.” She slid the wand further, “Since we are here I am going to check out your right ovary as well and then we will get you cleaned up and discuss your options.”
The options included waiting, keeping, or a self-managed abortion which included a few prescriptions. They gave you a page of information for each option and sent you on your way with a follow-up appointment scheduled for a few weeks.
In shock, you called your best friend first. Larsen had become your best friend in the second grade and you two had stuck it out through thick and thin.
You told him everything. The entire story. No one else knew everything that had happened. Now Larsen did.
He offered to marry you.
You knew he was good for it. Larsen had never fallen in love, found the idea repulsive. The love you and he held for each other was deep and special, but not romantic. Marriage to Larsen would provide safety and stability, and the ability to change your name before Johnny or Simon could think to look for you. Even if you lost the pregnancy Larsen would be the best roommate and friend you could think of sharing this journey with.
“Yes, but let’s talk this over at dinner.”
The wedding had been a week later in front of a judge, with Ash as your witness and his mother as his.
Larsen never pressured you to make a decision about your pregnancy, simply talked through each option with you again and again until you decided you wanted to keep this gift. Simon and Johnny might have treated you as if they were evil but at least you stole something good from them in the process.
You had two boys growing inside you. To the growing delight of the specialty pregnancy team, you were a rare case of two separate fertilization babies. Distinct sacks and placentas meant two independent babies. Baby A was three weeks further in growth and development than baby B. This idea was confirmed when both boys arrived and looked nothing alike even covered in vernix.
Larsen had chuckled and chided the nurses in the halls for the odd looks you and the boys got. You had five amazing years with Larsen before he died of an aneurysm at work. He left you with a boatload of life insurance and two four-year-old boys who had just lost the only father they had ever known.
The boys knew Larsen didn’t help create them but they were so small it didn’t matter. He was their dad. The first thing you did after picking yourself up off the hospital chair was call and set up therapy for yourself and the boys. You would all need it.
Another two years passed, the boys started kindergarten and you started a cake decorating business from the house Larsen had bought you. You had paid it off with a portion of his death benefits. Everything was looking up. Despite the boys sometimes looking exactly like their genetic fathers, they were the most amazing thing in your life. Life was looking up until the house the bus stopped at went up for sale. Your neighbors mentioned an attractive-looking gay couple bought it and wouldn’t you know they had the best accents? One rang of rainy England and the other of Scotland. They were retired military and were excited for the change of pace this life would bring.
Nope, had to be a coincidence. Couldn’t be them. Why would they move to the States? Why your state of all places? No. Couldn’t be Simon and Johnny, you were still safe from their reach.
Except you weren’t.
They followed the boys home one day from the bus, shocked at seeing a child who looked so much like themselves. When you opened the door, royal icing dried to your cheek, you blanched and slammed the door shut slamming the deadbolt home.
The men that haunted your therapy sessions and the aches of your heart had found you. You and their boys.
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 days ago
Note
Could you please write sweet,subtle,cute things batboys+Bruce does when they are crushing on reader?
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Dick
He wants to spend a lot of time with you. Literally.
He’s very much the kind of guy who wanted to see you smile and laugh with every interaction that you had with him, just so he could shamelessly memories both your laughter and smile to his memory long after the outing you both had was over.
He would make goofy remarks or recall a story from recent memory that he thought would make your day a bit brighter. Gotham was often a depressing city that could easily damper anyone’s mood with its lack of dramatic change to better the lives of the people who lived within the seemingly cursed town.
So seeing you happy and smiling was more than enough to keep Dick’s hopes up for a better future, hopefully for the both of you should you reciprocate his feelings. He’d gladly die knowing that the last thing he remembers was your laughter and smiling face, looking like an absolute angel in his eyes, but this was him just being a dramatic romantic who just wished to be the very reason you lived a relatively happy life.
Dick would use Hayley quite often when he wanted you to prolong your stay at his place, claiming she’s going to miss you greatly, when it was actually him who’d miss you the moment you walked out the door. After all who could say no to a cute doggy that looked up at you with thoughtless but happy to be there eyes. So it wasn’t uncommon that you and Dick would take Hayley out on walks together through a safe area where he would let Hayley off the leash, only to watch with a warmth blossoming within his chest as you and Hayley enjoyed each others company.
Dick would come to see you, himself and Hayley as a little family of your own making and would love nothing more than to have this become a common thing. Something he wished would become a thing of reality rather than a fantasy he’d visit within his sleep, but he can take what he can get for you being in his life was more then enough, even if there wasn’t a label to what you were to each other.
Another thing he would do was buy you things that he’d thought you’d like. Anything that he saw within a shop window that reminded Dick of you was already bought within minutes as he would then go on a hunt for more things to buy you for the sake of spoiling you for being his anchor and his person through thick and thin. It could be blankets, plushies or sweets that he knew you’d find comfort in it didn’t really matter as he’d treat you like the royalty you were in his mind, all the while getting you a silly card with a cleverly thought out pun that he would write an equally silly message within it, hoping it would become a keepsake to look back on with a sappy but warm feeling within your chest.
Bruce
Very giving but he would act like a real distinguished gentleman towards you.
Alfred raised him right that’s for fucking sure.
He’s the type to never let you pay for anything, always having his card in hand to hand off to the waiter, nor to place on the card reader in a retail store, before you has the chance to reach inside your purse/wallet. It didn’t help that he looked smug after paying for the things that you let your eyes linger a second too long upon.
The man didn’t fear for the loss of money in his bank for as soon as the money was spent, the money lost was quickly replenished within the blink of an eye. No exaggeration.
Bruce would only want to be a provider for you and the type of partner that you could feel safest with as he takes care of you and your needs first and foremost, all the while making sure to make your life a hell of a lot more easier as he helps you by helping you into your shoes, zipping up your coat when it’s cold and put gloves on your hands while stroking the backs of your hands gently; offering you his arm with a smile afterwards as he escorted you both out of the manor to attend a charity event that Wayne Enterprises was hosting.
He personally asks for you to company him to these such grand events as his plus one, even offering to buy you formal attire should you lack any in your wardrobe, or go ahead into buying you one regardless and giving it to you as a present just so he could see your raw reaction himself when you opened the box to see the high quality attire he had picked out for you. Ironically it matched his own attire but in the most subtle of ways that not many would spot unless they were actively looking.
The press have a field day with this as you were frequently seen on Wayne’s arm, so much so that they called you his secret spouse in the tabloids, not that you see them as serious though as the press will make anything up to get people to read their half baked stories.
Offers to drive you home all the time no matter what, it didn’t matter if your home was within walking distance Bruce didn’t feel it was necessary for you to walk alone home when he had a perfect car in excuse use to take you home instead. Just give him a text and he’ll come over within minutes, but even if you didn’t text him he’ll turn up anyway as though he knew where you’d be, and when asked about it he only shrugs and says that he was merely in the same place at the same time, you joked and said that he might’ve been tracking you and Bruce only cleared his throat as he drove you home.
Damian
He’s not so quick to anger when it comes to you, almost like your presence was all that was needed to reassure his mind and bring peace to it without needing to try.
No outbursts came your way at all that many thought you were the one person Damian would never yell at, and they were right but Damian would deny all of this, but even deep down he knew it was something he couldn’t deny forever not if he was going to confess his deepest feelings sooner or later.
He felt as though he could experience a normal life with you as he found himself confining in you with things that he didn’t tell anyone else. You were his safe space whether or not you were aware of it, and sooner or later Damian found himself smiling and laughing and enjoying life as he taught you how to draw.
He was patient with you, more then he ever was with anyone else as he taught you brush strokes, to knowing what type of pencil to use for effective shading along with shading techniques and which ones would make your sketches some more life to them. If it seemed as though you were struggling with his verbal instructions, he’ll use a fresh page in his sketch book and show you firsthand how to do it in a step by step manner, waiting for you to follow along his steps and smiling softly to himself when your finish sketch looked similar to his.
He’s happy that he’s made you happy, it’s not something he’s ever done but if it was just for you then he’ll do it again for the rest of his life.
He’ll even let you name an animal he found abandoned somewhere, letting you hold it in your hands and loving the image before him as you smiled down at the animal he found, handling it with uttermost care as though you were afraid of hurting them. Once you’ve given it a name, Damian will treasure it by always holding them against his chest wherever he could when the occasion arises, as they were the closest thing to you in this point and time. And he smiles every time he looks at them and feels a lightness within his chest.
He’ll use the little guy to have your constant company…not that he’ll ever admit to using such a tactic to anyone.
Jason
He’s a lot more lighthearted with you and playful, almost as if the boy he used to be was coming through.
He’s softer towards you also as he would always be the first to offer you help with whatever you needed without a second thought. He wanted to be helpful towards you, and so he would go out of his way and prove himself as such by doing small but meaningful things that he’d knew you’d appreciate greatly, whether that be getting your coat or reminding you of whether you were forgetting to take your mandatory medication. Literally anything you needed help with Jason will do it without being hesitation.
This then becomes him doing stuff on your behalf that he knew you didn’t like by memory because he remembered everything about you, from your likes to your dislikes, anything related to you he remembers it as though he had known for a long time.
He just wanted to show to you that he wasn’t what others perceived him to be, he didn’t want you to think of him as an angry, broken, hollow husk of a man who knew nothing but revenge and self destructive tendencies that left him feeling lonelier then ever.
Jason would offer up his apartment as your safe reprieve, you were allowed to enter his place whenever you please. He didn’t mind either way as your presence was a much welcomed one, for Jason had never had he felt comfortable in going home just to find you waiting for him with a smile, whether or not your good at cooking didn’t matter as he could easily cook you both up something, or you’d both go to the nearest fast food restaurant for some much needed greasy comfort food.
The domestic act of having you in his apartment constantly that sooner or later he’s seen that you’ve made the apartment even more like home to him, for it has traces of you scattered here and there and Jason couldn’t help but smile at seeing your touches made to his home that he could only wish that he could ask you to move into his apartment permanently. He knew he couldn’t ask that of you yet, especially not when he has still to confess to you.
He’s protective over you and was more then willing to scare off anyone that was doing your head in by overstepping your boundaries. So once they had left you alone Jason would look to you and ask whether you were okay in a soft tone. His eyes filled with concerned he holds you by the shoulders, looking you over incase you were hiding anything from him before moving forward, making sure that there was no one else to cause you problems for the rest of the day.
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dcxdpdabbles · 2 days ago
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Hi Drabbles,
I wanted to ask if you still do prompts and if you do can you do the one below?
So Danny is the Ghost King and was friends with Bruce’s parents so he felt when they died. They could become ghosts but I’ll leave that up to you. But either way, Danny feels their death and assists Alfred when he can to raise Bruce. Due Danny’s visits and Bruce’s holidays in the infinite realms they (Bruce and Alfred) became very Liminal. So they have slight powers. One day, Danny comes over with Ellie and Dan (who are like siblings to Bruce as both we deaged/destabilised and Danny raised them) but Bruce forgets he never told the newer kids about them as Danny hasn’t come over in a while. Dick has meet them, Jason has heard about of them but the rest don’t know about them.
There were three strangers in their house. Usually, that would be okay, as multiple people came and went through Wayne Manor. It was customary to hire random crews to help set up for a Gala, or maybe some representatives from the various charities they helped would come over for dinner or a meeting.
Sometimes, a few of Bruce's old party buddies would pop up to get him to stop being a dad and return to his party boy days. They've all learned how to dance around visitors and hide their identities.
The thing was, these strangers were kept from the main parts of the manor. Their rooms, the sitting lounge, Bruce's Office, Damian's art studio, Jason's library, Tim's game room, Cass' dance studio, and Duke's music record room were all inaccessible.
Bruce would always ask if someone attempted to sneak away and stop them. There was a time when paparazzi disguised themselves as crew members—the three idiots even got jobs at the cleaning company—and tried to see if they could find a scandal on the children.
Brucie Wayne was seen crying hysterically on the news that night for accidentally pushing down a piano on them. He was trying to take it up to the Music Room as a surprise for Duke and wanted to avoid bothering the cleaners to have them help him. He had no idea the rope he was using to drag the grand piano up the stairs would have snapped and rolled backward onto the paparazzi, who had previously been taking pictures of Cass practicing without her knowledge.
People told him not to feel bad, as Bruce had cameras in the hallways of his home due to the last time someone broke in, and it was obviously not his fault. Some people said they deserved it, but Bruce wouldn't hear it. He paid for all their medical bills and gave them enough funds to tie them over for three weeks while they recovered.
Everyone shook their heads at poor Bruce. After all, the piano had fallen so far that the only real harm was that each of them got a few bruises and a broken arm, but that was all.
The point was that no one went up there that shouldn't be.
Yet here, standing in the middle of the Gaming room, were three strangers who were all aggressively battling it out on an old remaster shooting game.
"This is way harder than I remember," said the oldest one, who seemed to be Alfred's age.
"That's cause you always sucked at games," The woman taunted, but her words were countered by the other man shooting her down. "Hey!"
"Ha!" Barked the last man from where he was twisting his elbows, moving alongside his running character. "I'm unstoppable!"
Tim turns to his siblings, about to ask them how they want to play the dramatic scene where they would throw these people out, but his words catch in his mouth upon spotting Cass' expression.
Her narrowed, guarded eyes watched the three with the same amount of steel she had reserved for only the worst of their enemies. Whoever they are, they set off so many alarms in her. She knows they're dangerous.
At once, this minor inconvenience turned into a severe risk to his health. He snaps back towards the strangers, tense and ready for battle. Around him, the rest of his siblings are in similar stances, quickly signing how they would attack.
What kind of message were they sending if someone on Cass's danger scale was able to break in undetected and choose to play with their things? Was it a show of what they could do? Claim that they could beat the Bats without really trying?
The woman's eyes snap towards them so fast she could have been a speedster. He had even noticed her turning around; one second, she was back to them. The next, she was half-turned, staring at them. It looked like a poorly edited video. Everyone jumps, but all she does is smile. "Hey, it's Bruce's kids! Anyone want to call the winner?"
The older gentleman drops his control, turns around to fully face them, and gasps. He puts one hand on his chest and the other right above his mouth. "Look at them! There are so many! Alfred must be so excited to be a grandfather. Why aren't you two giving me grandbabies?"
"Ugh, not this again." The man sighs, continuing to play despite the fact that the other two are no longer paying attention.
"It's fine time you find someone nice." The other protested.
"I'm not nice," Countered the player. "I highly doubt someone would want to find me."
"That's not true, Dan. Most of my co-workers want your number, " the woman chirps. "Also, stay away from my office. It's gross."
"Aren't half of your office married?"
"That's why I said most, you idiot."
"Just for that, I'm going to your office dressed like a romance novel protagonist. The modern professor who goes home for the holidays and finds his humanity again. I'll have a trench coat and everything."
"How dare you. Then I'll strut by your friends in a bikini."
"That's mean. It's not Halloween; there is no need to scare them."
"I'll kill you-"
"Enough! Honestly, you two, you're in your late thirties. Stop bickering."
"No matter how old we are, Dani will always be my little sister."
"Aw. " Dani poses the same as the older man—hand on chest, hand over mouth—and looks close to tears. "I love you too, you big waste of space."
Cass creeps into the room, somehow vanishing from view as the three strangers chat. Tim is still determining where she is, but he figures she'll strike when she has the opening. He feels Duke palm the knife in his pocket, and Damian lowers himself in preparation to throw a ninja star.
Dan snaps his head up with a laugh. "Wow, you're fast. A little too loud, though. Make sure to flatline your heartbeat when sneaking up on people."
Cass drops down over him, but Dan only laughs. Her blade goes right through him, and her fast place kicks do nothing. She accidentally cuts the controller in half, stopping the man's laughter.
"No! I was winning!"
"Ha!" Dani barks, uncaring the ninja star that goes through her right shoulder and flies through her body to exit on the other side. "Dan forfeits!"
"How does this count as forfeiting-"
"Guys, the children are trying to kill us." The older man cuts in. He levels the Waynes with large, grandfatherly eyes. "Children, why are you trying to kill us?"
He says it the same way someone would as a child why they were putting things in their mouths.
"Not kill. Just harm," Duke responds, voice low and dangerous. " Why don't you answer our questions. How did you get in here?"
"Alfred, let us in. He said we could make ourselves at home while he stepped out." The old man frowned. "He went to get Bruce from his office."
"Who are you?" Tim demands next, filing away the claim that Alfred let them. The butler would have told them days in advance if someone would have access to the game room.
"I'm Danny Fenton. These are my children, Dani and Dan." Danny introduces, eyeing the crowd. "We're close friends of Alfred and Bruce."
"How-"
"It's so good to see you all again!" Dick cheers, running down the hallway and still in uniform. He jumps over his siblings in an impressive flip, not breaking stride to race into Danny's arms.
The older man holds them open seconds before they crash together. "Dick! Look how big you've gotten. Oh, it seems like only yesterday you were waist-high!"
"Ha ha ha, it has been a few years, Granpa Danny. Hi Auntie, Uncle! How are you?"
"Dickie, my sweet pea, look at you!" Dani squeals, leaning in for her own hug. She passes through a confused Cass like a ghost. "So handsome! And Tall! Who told you that you were allowed to grow taller than me?"
"Seeing that you are barely over five' six, everyone," Dan laughs, clapping Dick on the shoulder. "It's a shame we're twins, so I'm no taller."
"Um, Dick?" Tim calls as his brother breaks in fast-paced, reassurances that no matter how tall he is, he will always be open for hugs from the shorter adults. "Who are they?"
"Oh these are Fentons. Danny helped Alfred raise Bruce, so their like our extended family."
Tim blinks, wondering if this feeling of confusion is what his classmates mean whenever they joke about being at family functions and people who last saw them as babies walk up to them like they should know them. It's an odd feeling.
"Oh, them?" Jason says from behind the hallway. He peeks in casually, lowering his gun and raising the soda can in the other hand. "I heard about them but never met them. They have level purple clearance."
"Of course we do! We build that stupid cave for Bruce." Dan scoffs. "He got stuck down there as a kid and thought it was safe just to make an entire headquarters in a hole. Honestly."
"At least Bruce has a career and children," Danny says pointingly.
"Please don't compare me to my cousin." Dani groans. "It's exhausting."
Yeah, this is definitely extended family.
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writetheidea · 3 days ago
Text
Too Much to Be Enough - part 2
Hi, I wrote the second part of this fanfiction while juggling my thesis, so I apologize if there are any mistakes. Please feel free to point them out in my DMs or asks—I'd really appreciate it. I couldn't bring myself to just write pure fluff without adding a bit of angst. As I mentioned in the story, rebuilding trust isn't a straightforward process. I hope you enjoy it!
Part 1
Pairing: Franco Colapinto x female character
Plot: after deeply hurting his girlfriend, Franco learns how hard it is to rebuild their relationship, learning that trust, once broken, is a delicate and painstaking process to restore.
Tag: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff.
Word count: 3178
Disclaimers: english is not my first language - I feel like you could tell from my writing style - so I apologize if some of the sentences structures are off, or if I use outdated or inappropriate-for-the-context words, I used a synonym dictionary to try and stop myself from repeating the same words, I still did do that though.
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Franco had always been a man of control. On the racetrack, precision wasn’t just a skill; it was survival. Every turn, every decision, required complete mastery over chaos. Off the track, he wasn’t much different, carrying that same calculated demeanor into his personal life. The way he managed his career, his relationships, even the smallest aspects of his daily routine, all reflected his need to remain unshakable. Control was his armor, his identity. But this—watching the woman he loved drift further away because of his carelessness—was a storm he couldn’t navigate.
He had made a mistake. A single moment of thoughtlessness, a few careless words, the laughter that followed, had been enough to tear open the foundation of trust they had spent years building. The memory replayed endlessly in his mind, gnawing at him like a relentless tide. He could see it all too clearly: the way her face fell, how her voice quivered when she confronted him. She hadn’t screamed or shouted; she hadn’t even cried at first. She had just gone quiet, her silence heavier than any words could have been. It spoke of wounds too deep for words, a disappointment that no apology could touch.
At first, he had thought the tension might dissipate after a day or two. He had underestimated the depth of the wound he had inflicted. What followed was a purgatory of silence. She didn’t leave outright, but her presence was a ghost of what it had been. She avoided his touch, his gaze, even his attempts at conversation. The vibrant, warm woman he loved so fiercely had become a shadow, navigating their shared spaces like a stranger. Franco’s every attempt to bridge the gap between them fell flat—flowers went untouched, her favorite pastries remained uneaten, and the small notes he left for her disappeared without acknowledgment. It was as though she was erasing him piece by piece, and he could do nothing to stop it.
The silence was unbearable. He missed her laughter, the way she would light up when she spoke about her favorite books or dreams for the future. He missed the way she would reach for him instinctively, as though he was her safe harbor. Now, he felt like a trespasser in his own life, each moment with her a painful reminder of what he had broken. 
On the third night after the fight, Franco found himself sitting on their couch, his hands clasped tightly together. The room felt impossibly large, every corner of it carrying memories of better times. He could picture her curled up on the other side of the couch, her laughter filling the space as she recounted some silly anecdote or read him a passage from one of her favorite books. Now, the silence was deafening. He had spent hours going over what he might say to her, how he might begin to repair what he had broken, but words failed him.
Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. “Please,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “I can’t stand this. Tell me what to do—tell me how to make this right.”
She didn’t even look at him, her gaze fixed somewhere distant. “What’s the point?” she said quietly. “You’ve already shown me what you think of me. You agreed with them, Franco. You laughed at me like I was a joke.”
Her voice broke on the last word, and Franco felt the full weight of her hurt settle over him. “That’s not true,” he said desperately. “I wasn’t thinking—”
“No,” she interrupted, finally turning to face him, her eyes flashing with rare anger. “You weren’t thinking. But that doesn’t change what you said. Or what you did.” Her voice cracked, and for the first time, Franco could see just how deeply he had hurt her. “Do you even understand how small that made me feel? Like I was some kind of joke? Like I’ll never be enough for you?” 
She paused, her face now showing the pain she had been harboring beneath the surface “What else do you want me to say, Franco? That I’m hurt? That I feel like I’ll never be enough for you now? You already know that”
Her words cut deeper than any insult, the quiet resignation in her voice tearing him apart. “You are enough,” he said fervently, reaching for her hand. “You’ve always been enough. I was stupid, careless—I didn’t mean what I said.”
“But you did,” she replied, pulling her hand away. “Maybe you didn’t mean for me to hear it, but you meant it. And I can’t unhear it, Franco. I can’t forget the way you agreed with them, the way you laughed about me like I was some… inconvenience.”
Her voice broke on the last word, and Franco felt his chest tighten, guilt clawing at him like a relentless tide. “I love you,” he said desperately. “I love everything about you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I can’t lose you.”
She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face as if trying to find some trace of the man she had once trusted so completely. “Love isn’t supposed to hurt like this,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “And right now, being with you… it hurts.”
His throat tightened as he searched for words, but there was nothing he could say that would undo the damage. “You are everything to me,” he said finally, his voice raw. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it if I have to.”
-----
But words weren’t enough, and he knew it. That night, she moved to the guest room, leaving their bed and a gaping void in his heart. He lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling and replaying every moment he had failed her, every time he had taken her love for granted. He thought of her kindness, her patience, the way she had always believed in him, even when he doubted himself. And now, when she needed him most, he had failed to be the man she deserved.
The next morning, he woke to find her gone. A note on the counter said she was staying with a friend for a few days. He stared at the words until they blurred, his chest aching with the realization that she needed space from him—that being near him caused her pain. He couldn’t blame her for that, but it didn’t make it any easier to bear.
He threw himself into trying to make amends, even if she wasn’t there to see it. He cleaned the apartment from top to bottom, cooked her favorite meals, and set the table with candles and fresh flowers every day, hoping it might offer a small measure of comfort when she returned. The evening when she finally walked through the door, she paused, her eyes scanning the room before landing on him.
“What’s all this?” she asked, her voice wary.
“I thought we could have dinner together,” he said, his voice hesitant. “I know it doesn’t fix anything, but I thought… I just wanted to do something for you.”
She hesitated for a moment before sitting down at the table. They ate in near silence, the tension between them almost unbearable. He tried to ask about her day, her friend, anything to fill the void, but her answers were curt, her gaze fixed on her plate. By the time they finished, Franco felt more defeated than ever.
As she stood to leave, he reached for her hand, his grip gentle but firm. “Please. I’ll do whatever it takes,” he said. “Just tell me how to make this better.”
She looked down at him, her eyes filled with exhaustion. “I don’t know if you can,” she said softly. “But if you want to try, then stop looking for shortcuts. This isn’t about flowers or dinners. It’s about showing me that I matter to you—not just when it’s easy, but when it’s hard. It’s about showing me—every day—that you love me for who I am, not despite it.”
-----
From that moment on, Franco dedicated himself to proving his love, not through grand gestures but in the quiet, unremarkable moments of daily life. He began paying attention to the things she cared about—remembering the books she mentioned wanting to read, making sure her favorite tea was always stocked in the pantry, and taking over chores she usually handled so she wouldn’t have to. He didn’t push her to talk or try to force her forgiveness; instead, he gave her the space she needed, even when it hurt to keep his distance.
The process was slow and often discouraging. There were days when she barely acknowledged his efforts, her walls still firmly in place. But there were also small victories—like the time she laughed, a soft, unguarded sound that felt like sunlight breaking through the clouds. Or the day she found a note he had left in her book that simply said, “I see you. And I love you.” She didn’t say anything about it, but later that evening, she made them tea and sat beside him on the couch, the silence between them no longer quite so heavy.
-----
Franco thought he was making progress. Slowly but surely, she was beginning to let him in again. The walls she’d built around herself were still there, but they had started to crack. She smiled a little more often, lingered at the dinner table to talk about her day, and once, when they were watching an old movie on the couch, she leaned into him without pulling away. Each small step felt monumental, and Franco held onto the hope that one day, she might fully trust him again.
But trust, he learned, was fragile.
It happened at a party—a glamorous event hosted by one of Franco’s sponsors. He had been reluctant to go, worried about the strain it might put on their delicate truce, but she had insisted. “You shouldn’t have to give up your life because of me,” she said. He had taken her words as a sign that things were improving between them, a sign that she was ready to be part of his world again.
The evening started well enough. She looked stunning in a sleek, dark dress, her hair framing her face. Franco couldn’t take his eyes off her, and for a moment, he felt like the luckiest man in the room. They mingled with the crowd, exchanging polite pleasantries with sponsors and fellow racers. She held her own beautifully, her sharp wit and quiet confidence earning smiles and laughter from everyone she spoke to.
Then came the moment that undid everything.
Franco had stepped away to get them drinks, and when he returned, he overheard a group of men making crude jokes about her. The words were vile—reducing her to nothing more than a pretty accessory, a trophy to be paraded around. Franco’s blood boiled, but instead of stepping in to defend her, he froze. He laughed awkwardly, muttered something dismissive, and walked away.
What he didn’t realize was that she had overheard, her expression a mask of disbelief and hurt as she stood just out of view.
Later that night, as they drove home, the tension in the car was suffocating. She stared out the window, silent, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. Franco tried to fill the void with small talk, but each word felt hollow.
Finally, she turned to him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“What are you talking about?” he asked, though he already knew.
“I heard them, Franco. I heard what they said about me. And I heard you laugh. Again.”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “It wasn’t like that,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean—”
“You didn’t mean what? To defend me? To show them that I’m more than the joke they made me out to be?” Her voice cracked, and she turned away, shaking her head. “I thought you were different. I thought you respected me.”
“I do respect you,” he said, his voice rising. “I didn’t know what to say—I panicked.”
“Panicked?” she repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief. “I was standing there, Franco. Listening to them degrade me, waiting for you to have my back. And you panicked?”
The argument spilled into their apartment, growing louder and more painful with each passing moment. By the time it was over, she was packing a bag, tears streaming down her face as she threw clothes into a suitcase.
“Please don’t do this,” Franco said, his voice raw. “Don’t leave. We can fix this.”
She stopped, her hands trembling as she gripped the edge of the suitcase. “You don’t get it, do you?” she said, her voice shaking. “This isn’t just about tonight. It’s about every time you’ve made me feel small, every time you’ve chosen your pride or your reputation over me. I can’t do this anymore.”
And with that, she was gone.
-----
The months that followed were the darkest of Franco’s life. She didn’t answer his calls or texts, and when he went to her friend’s house to see her, he was turned away at the door. For the first time, he had to confront the possibility that he might have lost her for good.
Franco threw himself into therapy, desperate to understand why he kept sabotaging the one thing that mattered most to him. His sessions were grueling, forcing him to confront parts of himself he had long ignored—the insecurities he buried beneath his arrogance, the fear of vulnerability that drove him to push people away.
He also began writing her letters, pouring his heart onto the page in a way he had never been able to do in person. He didn’t know if she would ever read them, but it was the only way he could process his feelings.
Months passed. Slowly, Franco began to change—not for her, but for himself. He realized that he couldn’t ask her to come back if he wasn’t willing to become the man she deserved.
Then, one day, he received an unexpected text.
“Meet me at the park tomorrow at 2.”
His heart leapt, but he forced himself to temper his expectations. When he arrived, she was sitting on a bench, her posture stiff, her expression guarded.
“I got your letters,” she said, her voice quiet.
“And?” he asked, his heart pounding.
“They were… honest,” she admitted. “But honesty doesn’t erase what happened.”
“I know,” he said. “I don’t expect you to forgive me—not yet, maybe not ever. But I want you to know that I’m trying. I’m working on myself, and not just because I want you back. I need to be better, for me. For whoever I become, with or without you.”
She studied him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face. “I don’t know if I can trust you again,” she said finally. “But I’m willing to try. Slowly. On my terms.”
“I’ll wait as long as it takes,” he said, his voice steady. “I’m not going anywhere.”
-----
True to her word, she made Franco work for her trust. There were no shortcuts, no grand declarations that could fix what was broken. If he wanted to be in her life again, he had to earn his place every single day.
Their relationship became a fragile thread, held together by small, cautious interactions. They started meeting once a week for coffee, their conversations polite but distant. She kept him at arm’s length, her walls firmly in place. Franco didn’t push; he simply showed up, week after week, ready to prove himself.
One day, as they walked through the park after coffee, she turned to him abruptly. “Why didn’t you stand up for me?” she asked, her voice trembling.
The question caught him off guard, but he didn’t shy away from it. “Because I was afraid,” he admitted. “Afraid of looking weak, afraid of being judged. But mostly… afraid that if I stood up for you and got it wrong, you’d see me as a failure.”
Her eyes softened, but her expression remained guarded. “And now?”
“Now I realize that failing you is worse than failing in front of anyone else,” he said. “If I ever get the chance again, I promise you, I won’t let you down.”
She nodded slowly, her gaze distant. “We’ll see.”
The weeks turned into months, and their connection began to deepen again. She started sharing more of herself, though cautiously, and Franco matched her vulnerability with his own. He told her about the therapy sessions, about the childhood insecurities that had shaped his need for control and approval. It was a side of him she had never seen before, and while it didn’t erase the past, it gave her hope that he was truly changing.
-----
It wasn’t a single moment that brought them back together, but a series of small ones—acts of kindness, vulnerability, and unwavering support. Franco became a man she could rely on, not just in words but in actions. He stood up for her, prioritized her needs, and made her feel seen and valued in every aspect of their lives.
There were moments when he doubted himself, wondering if he was fighting a losing battle. And there were nights when he lay awake, haunted by the memory of her tears, the sound of her voice breaking as she told him how much he had hurt her. Through it all, he held onto the hope that one day, she would see how much he loved her—that she would believe it, not because he said it, but because he showed it in every action, every choice he made.
One rainy afternoon, he decided to try something different. He pulled out a cookbook she had always loved but rarely used and flipped to a page with a recipe for her favorite cake. He was hopeless in the kitchen, but he wanted to try—to show her that he was willing to make an effort, no matter how small. When she came home and found him fumbling with ingredients, the sight stopped her in her tracks.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice tinged with incredulity.
“Trying to make your cake,” he said, holding up a whisk like it was a weapon. “It’s probably going to be terrible, but I thought—”
She interrupted him with a soft laugh. “You’re going to burn the kitchen down.”
“Maybe,” he said, grinning sheepishly. “But I figured it was worth the risk.”
She stepped toward him, closing the distance that had felt insurmountable for so long. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, but her tone was warm, her eyes soft as she reached for the whisk. “Let me help you.”
As they cooked together, bumping elbows and laughing at his mistakes, Franco felt something shift. It wasn’t complete trust—not yet—but it was a beginning. And as he watched her smile, he realized that this was what love was: not grand gestures or perfect moments, but showing up, every day, and choosing each other even when it was hard.
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