#and i can't be that fucking boring because people talk to me so like . i must have something going for me

[yanmagotchi]

Can you walk all the way around it? Mercury - NO. You'd think so but it's way too close to the sun, it's too hot, you'd probably need a big umbrella and they've never taken one to space. Venus - NO. It's basically the same size as earth, incredibly boring because no fun landmarks, way too foggy, huge risk of getting lost. Earth - Yes, BUT. You can walk all the way around it, but the problem here is that other people have already done it. Sure it's possible, but nobody's gonna care. Mars - NO. It's a nice place, with a beautiful sky, nice temperatures for a holiday, and lots of robots to make friends with, but don't let those 'rivers' fool you. There's nothing to drink on Mars, and as we all know, walking around a planet is thirsty work! Jupiter - NO. You're not allowed to because it's too gassy and let's be honest, you would get tired too fast. It's the biggest planet ever discovered!* Saturn - Yes, BUT. The problem is not the size, despite what pictures will show you it's actually much bigger than the inch across that google images pretends it is. The problem is not resources, it's probably got a lot more food and drink than the pictures show too, it's named after the roman god of harvest! The issue you would face is having to look up as you sleep in your sleeping bag every night and see that fucking ring. And you know that even if you walk all the way around Saturn (which is totally doable), that for the rest of your life, everybody you ever talk to will ask you 'wait the planet or the ring' and you will have to look them in the eye and sadly explain that you can't walk on the ring because it's not actually solid, it's lots of little bits of stuff and they're not joined together. Uranus - NO. To take a quote from NASA's (leading spaciologists) website, "Uranus' environment is not conducive to life as we know it. The temperatures, pressures, and materials that characterize this planet are most likely too extreme and volatile for organisms to adapt to." It's impossible to even think about walking when the conditions are that bad, but there might be public transport if you need to take short trips. Neptune - NO. To be honest we forgot about this one, but it's named after that the ocean king or something and that's really scary, so you're probably not missing out on much. Pluto - YES!!!!! Pluto is literally the perfect planet, if your legs are long enough you can probably do it in a day, but I would suggest taking your time to really enjoy the sights. It's really far away from the sun, so you don't need sunscreen, and at since it gets to 35K (Kelsius maybe?) at night, you'll not even need a blanket! Most importantly, since '''scientists''' decided it's no longer a planet, it's left off of a lot of brochures, so there won't be any annoying tourists pushing up motel prices. A lovely weekend visit!

Honourable mention - The Sun. Lots of people asked me to add this to the list because they see it on planet charts but it's actually not a planet and is instead something else. I hope this helps!

*No it's not.

i think my only big disagreement with the consensus of pluto not being a planet is that dwarf planets aren't considered a type of planet. like, why aren't they just a subclass of planet. the major planets and minor planets. sorry but these bitches are more interesting than me than mars

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

if dorian didn't show up, do you think louis would have shot minnie?

I do. I know some people think either he wouldn't have or he would've missed so that's why the writers had him shoot Dorian instead, but mmmmmm no, I don't personally think so. I like to think that if he had taken the shot, his shaky hands would've caused him to shoot her fatally.

Mostly because I'm already so normal about the fact that of the Ericson crew, Marlon and Louis are the only ones with a body count. Well, that we know of, but shown to us in the game, at least. Plus, we know it's Louis' first kill.

Like yeah, Clementine and AJ become part of the crew and they have bigger body counts, and if we're counting indirect kills caused by actions, then Tenn has a count... and I guess everyone has blood on their hands for blowing up the boat... but I'm talking about killed directly with a weapon like....... I lied, I'm not normal about that at all, Louis and Marlon are the ones who have killed someone in Louis' route. I'm also not normal about the fact that Louis kills Dorian and then even as he's clearly in shock, he tries to go with Clementine to get AJ, and then later on when they talk about it, he says it feels like bile but not quite and he's glad he has it in him to do it.... listen, listen, listen... I'm obsessed with that.

Anyway, so if Louis shot Minerva, I think he would've accidentally killed her and can you imagine? He's already enough of a mess after killing the woman who pinned him down and tried to cut his finger off [or succeeded] but he knew Minerva, they were friends before the twins were taken. Even Violet couldn't kill her even though that would've been the smarter thing to do, and we know thanks to meta knowledge that killing her would've saved lives, but Violet couldn't, and I don't think Louis would intentionally either.

Speaking of Violet, if Louis killed Minerva, I hate to think about what that would've done to Vi. I think she might've actually left at that point, like what was planned before it got changed to her being burned. I don't think she would've attacked Louis over it, though, like yeah she attacked Clementine in the cell but Louis? I don't know, but I don't think so just because it's Louis and he'd be a mess about it anyway.

Though if he did kill her, it would be a neat parallel to draw... y'know, because Louis forgave AJ for killing Marlon even though he was pissed and heartbroken, and Violet was annoyed with him the entire time... but could she ever forgive Louis for killing Minerva? Y'know? We already have a similar parallel with AJ shooting Tenn, but still.

If Clementine killed Minerva in that moment, though, then I could see Violet attacking her since in her eyes, Clem proved her right.

So yeah, I get why they added the Dorian kill to his route. It adds another compelling element to Louis as a character, but we also need Minerva alive for episode 4; Louis can't kill her, he can't miss, and he's not going to stay with her because we need Violet to stay on the boat and him to be on shore for all routes.

[sibyl-of-space]

oh my god so a while ago i submitted the amadeus demo to a certain not-to-be-named indie event, not really expecting it would be accepted but figuring it's worth a shot and either way i get feedback. right.

now i have had... mixed... experiences with the particular group putting on this event. i think they do some genuinely awesome work and provide an invaluable service, but the overall community still feels wholly unprepared for anything even remotely artsy or weird. like even though it's an indie scene it feels very normie core. i don't even consider amadeus that artsy or weird, but i am occasionally reminded that i may have a skewed frame of reference compared to a lot of folks.

(a few months ago i attended a narrative feedback thing with them that was such a dumpster fire it pissed me off so bad i went and wrote 43790248932 paragraphs about it on here. like just genuinely some "have you, like, ever read a book?" tiers of utterly baffling "criticism." one of them pointed out to me that i may not have considered this, but Amadeus comes off as slightly rude. ....NO FUCKING SHIT.)

anyway. i submitted the demo because i figured the feedback would be useful, i can use any positive quotes in future trailers, etc. i have as of today learned that the game didn't get in and also received the promised feedback.

first of all i think it says a lot that from seeing in the email "we regret to inform you," my response was oh thank fuck. I don't really want to deal with tabling at an event cuz I have other shit going on and would rather focus on finishing the game since I've just made a lot of decisions I'm excited about; they also didn't get these responses back far enough in advance to actually prepare tabling materials if I HAD been accepted so it would have been more stress than anything else. I've also been salty at things like the above narrative feedback debacle so I was absolutely just like "this is completely fine with me."

But I made the mistake of reading the feedback provided and now I am going insane again.

TO BE FAIR! SOME OF THE FEEDBACK IS GENUINELY THOUGHTFUL, I may take or leave a lot of it, some of it raises good points I've already addressed, some of it clearly understands what I'm going for etc. I appreciate all of that.

But man some of this is pissing me offfffffffffff.

Some quotes that are making me particularly want to kill someone:

"When first meeting the witch the dialog is just incredibly long and boring and I ended up skipping through most of it. Given how linear this story seems to be, I think it would be better suited as a webcomic or a motion comic, not a visual novel."

DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE WORD NOVEL MEANS. JESUS CHRIST.

I am extrapolating a hint of potentially meaningful feedback from this which I'm already addressing (the personality of the Witch in that conversation should come through more than it does) - but this person gave that "feedback" in the douchiest most insufferable way possible. Luckily for them, I've since made that conversation even longer. Fuck off.

"Some of the music is very harsh and dissonant while being very repetitive, which made me less enthusiastic about listening to it."

This was the same person which just tells me they have no taste. Like hmm I wonder if there was an intentional reason I am using dissonance in the soundtrack about someone going through something insanely fucked up. The repetition is an understandable critique even if I'll be ignoring it, but "some of the music is harsh and dissonant" is not a valid critique. Soundtracks aren't supposed to just sound like nice flowery music all the time, or at least not good ones. I'll be making the full soundtrack more dissonant just for you.

"Is there a reason for the Amadeus's bracers to be colored in but not the rest?"

[different person] THIS . THIS. F. ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS

NO. THERE'S NO REASON. I TRIPPED AND FELL AND ACCIDENTALLY ONLY SOMEHOW ENDED UP COLORING HIS ARMS IN EVERY SINGLE ASSET THAT DEPICTS HIM BY ACCIDENT SOMEHOW! THANK YOU FOR CATCHING THIS OVERSIGHT! SILLY ME!!!! IM TEARING MY HAIR OUT

"Not all of the music is equally fitting. There's at least one track that gets a bit techno."

yeah and im adding another track inspired by Bad Taste Aquarium from Sonic Adventure and another one that's basically GoldenSlaughterer 2. girl help I'm being "critiqued" by lame people with absolutely no taste

im so glad i read this after i finished moving my to-do lists to a new project management platform and getting really excited/motivated about where i'm at with the game because if i had seen this 2 days ago it would have just fucking killed my motivation. man. it's literally so hard being the only person with #vision

[anotherpapercut]

sorry if this is extraordinarily pretentious but I do think it's wild that lobe piercings count as piercings in the same way a lip piercing does. it feels wrong. I have never thought of ear piercings as real piercings it seems like you should just be born with those right like they should be just in there naturally

[cherrymoonvol6]

.

[theflannelwizard]

Oops, I lied about sending all my questions in one, I thought of an actually specific question and not just a super general one five seconds after sending the ask:

Do you have any neurodivergent hcs for Buster and Gob(or other characters if you hc anyone else as neurodivergent)?

This is such a good question!! Okay!! It got long so I'm putting it under the cut, but TLDR: undiagnosed comorbid autistm and ADHD for both of them plus ADHD Tony Wonder :) I forced myself not to get into it with the rest of the Bluths cause this post would be a mile long but i did put cursory thoughts about them in the tags. All of this is spitballing and I'm definitely open to hearing other opinions!

Whatever is going on with Buster’s brain is the same thing that’s going on with my brain, so most likely ADHD and/or autism but DEFINITELY undiagnosed. None of the Bluths have the diagnoses they need and if someone (Tobias) tries to so much as allude to them being neurodivergent in front of George Sr. and/or Lucille it gets shut down immediately.

Anyway Buster reads more autistic than ADHD to me but it could be either or both. He has trouble reading other people’s emotions and regulating his own, he’s “strange” and “childish” in ways that are direct responses to how he was raised but also just read as neurodivergent, he’s got safe foods and takes things literally and has no clue how to read social cues and stims and gestures vaguely at all of him is just so very ND. Also the thing with ADHD-havers being randomly struck with bouts of guilt or self loathing? I think that’s him. ADHD was recently reclassified as an anxiety disorder, too, which we know full well is Buster, and it would not surprise me if his panic and anxiety attacks were brought on by sensory overload and RSD and other ADHD things at least some of the time.

As for GOB, I think he’s got the same deal but he reads more ADHD than autistic. I think they both have both but it presents differently in each of them. I’m fully on board with both magic and bees being special interests for that man, and he also just moves and talks and interacts with people in a very neurodivergent way. The stuttering when he’s overwhelmed is, to me, adjacent to (if not straight up being) him going nonverbal. He definitely has RSD too, look at how devastated he is when anyone rejects him ever. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he was bipolar, getting manic when he’s really into a project and then falling into depression for weeks or months at a time.

And, just as a bonus, I think Tony Wonder has ADHD. He recognizes it in GOB and helps him with learn to function in a healthier happier way and his siblings are so confused cause GOB just magically started getting more normal?? Except it’s not magic (and it’s not an illusion lmao) it’s just coping mechanisms. Tony’s been collecting them from various therapists for like 30 years. He has no clue how anyone in this family thinks they’re neurotypical.

[justinefrischmanngf]

i have not been sleeping well and i do think it's doing bad things to me because the thoughts i am having are not reasonable or helpful

[selfnss]

[ourceliumnetwork]

i really am just going to have to lean into the fact that i just really like cheese board foods and deal with that, aren't I?

[medicinemane]

The problem with a lot of body horror for me is it's just gross without being compelling

Like yeah you had that person tear their leg open and pull muscle away from bone in a way that's very uncomfortable... but I don't care. Or a lot of Hostel style horror for me it's just kinda... yeah... grossing me out isn't some kinda win

Cause it's not that I don't like body horror, I love Dead Space for instance which... kinda the core pillar of that is body horror if we're honest

Could be a matter of that that kind of body horror is more fantastic making it easier to digest, I will advance that as a theory, but personally I kinda think that it's more that they do something actually interesting with it

Like if I wanted to I could probably see a really fucked up leg wound (and worse) in looking online about this shitty world

Can't really find dead bodies contorted into killing machines though

So I kinda feel like it's my problem with a lot of horror, of that it's horrible in a mundane way where as I'm looking for some unfathomable secret out of horror

So there's a difference between some stabbing a person in the eye cause they're just a shitty person, and doing it to try and create a replica of an alien artifact that gives unlimited energy but also drives people crazy and then turns their bodies into horrible monstrosities

One is just way more interesting to me

[radioactive-cloud]

i'm actually absolutely and completely okay as long as i don't let a single thought appear in my brain

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

sorry for diary posting so much on main but this is the last one today prommy

[erigold13261]

Hate how my family thinks a "debate" is just talking for 30 minutes about a topic and going to the next with each other and not letting me say my piece on the matter. They create a damn echo chamber and I never let me say my piece.

Like my sister recognizes she does this and has been trying to let me speak more, but now that my brother is here with us they just do the whole fucking echo chamber thing. I get to say like half of my opinion/point and they but in not even letting me finish the whole fucking sentence.

[wild-at-mind]

I feel shitty because I can't, like, just, appreciate my happy relationship flaws and all. I have to be constantly making up that I'm not queer enough and therefore should be having way more sex positive kinky encounters with dozens of people in order to have value. Isn't it great how my brain has twisted sex positivity into a way to make myself feel like shit again.

[shotmrmiller]

johnny dates your friend and then asks her if she's got any friends (you) for his friend (simon). but simon freaks you out. he can't hold a conversation— or won't, you're not sure; you're lucky if you get monosyllabic grunts out of him as if he were a neanderthal. the only times you've seriously heard him talk is to bark out words at either johnny or the bartender.

he walks around with a poorly concealed weapon on his hip, almost like he is expecting trouble. he wears all black, which is completely fine, but then a skull balaclava that he refuses to take off, even to drink his liquor. you don't try to hide the grimace on your face when you watch him sip through the thick fabric. he's got skeleton gloves on his hands too, like some sort of shit cosplay to match his mask.

and he fucking stares, unashamedly so. it is unblinking, scrutinizing, intense— his dark eyes, pools of midnight, keen. he stares at the people walking in through the door, stares at johnny when he takes your friend to the dance floor, and when you tell him out of courtesy that you're going to go get another drink, you can feel him boring holes into the back of your head as you walk away, piercing flesh and bone.

the phantom fingers of his gaze trace icy paths along your spine, erupting your skin in goosebumps. you find him immensely creepy, and you thank the fucking stars you're only here as a favor for your friend. you don't think you want to do this again. he's either a wanted serial killer or just a goddamn freak.

a heavy arm wraps around your shoulders once you're at the bar, and with a sneer on your lips, you turn to the owner of said offending limb, only to come face to face with johnny. he leans into you, close enough to where you can feel his stubble grazing the shell of your ear. (back up, brother.)

"listen, bonnie!" you wince; it's really not that loud in here for him to be yelling like that. "ah ken, ghos— er, simon, might no' be yer average man. he can be a little off-puttin'—" a little? if he doesn't follow you home and skin you alive, you'd be incredibly fortunate— "but ah promise ye, while he may no' be boyfriend material, he's an incredible fuck."

excuse me? he's got to be positively pissed. "maybe you should slow down, yeah? you might already be three sheets to the wind if you're gassing up your unsettling friend's cock. no offense."

"naw! ah'm tellin' ye. long ago, we had a mission tha' ran everyone tight, 'n so we relieved tension the only way we could— big, strong guy like him had me limpin' for a few days after."

you're about to ask for an angel shot because there is no way in hell that your friend's boyfriend is making casual conversation about him getting absolutely railed by—

"give 'em a try. jus' the once, i swear he don't bite," johnny pauses-- the rosy flush on his nose and cheeks vibrant, "unless ye ask nicely. yer friend said ye needed to get laid, anyways." oh, you're gonna fucking kill her, that long-tongued cretin.

"right!" you drink the remainder of your cocktail in one big gulp, liquid warmth trailing down your throat, before not-so-kindly shrugging him off. "i'm gonna go, you, uh— we didn't have this conversation, for the sake of my friend." you gesture at the bartender. "one more, please. i'm gonna need it."

-

damn. now johnny's got you thinking about getting your back broken by simon. maybe you really are just down horrendously, or maybe it's the alcohol in your system that has decided to toss all self-preservation out the metaphorical window because now you can't stop noticing him.

he's real tall— enough to have him slightly tipping his head to walk through a doorway. his shoulders are mountainous, his hands the size of a bear's paw. his physicality is undoubtedly impressive and well, you've always been weak to burly, commanding men.

you make eye contact with johnny from across the room, his bright blue eyes alive under the dim light of the dingy bar, and the bastard shifts his gaze from simon to you, giving a cheeky wink.

lifting your glass, you drink the last of your liquid courage— the taste of it bittersweet. it has been a long time since you've gotten laid.

double damn.

"hey." you lean slightly toward simon, cupping your hand around your mouth. "you and i both know why we're here. take me home?" the way he looks at you has you shifting restlessly in your seat. did you perhaps make a mistake? oh, fuck. did you just throw yourself cunt-first at someone who is not interested? your face burns with embarrassment, heat licking up your cheeks. maybe the earth will split open, right here ri—

"let's go then." oh thank fucking god. you don't know what you would've done if he'd said no. shrivel up and die, probably. "uber'll be here in 4."

when it arrives, he places his leather jacket around your shoulders, cocooning you in its warmth— the heady scent of nicotine clings to the garment— and leads you outside with a hand on the small of your back.

-

the world outside the car blurs into a hazy painting as the driver navigates the streets. colors blend together, once sharp outlines now dissolved. the rain gently taps on the window, a soothing sound that could easily lull you to sleep until you start when a roughened palm suddenly glides along your thigh— fingers slowly tracing intimate patterns on your skin.

simon's hand is hot, and it only burns hotter the closer it gets to your center under your least favorite skirt. he cannot be serious right now. you place your hand over his, short nails biting into him because there is no way you're about to be fingered in an uber—

his voice is deep, a deliciously thick rumble, right by your ear. "nice kitty." you've never been one for pet names or anything else for that matter, but the pulse of arousal that shoots up your spine has a shaky exhale leaving your lips, a ghostly breath fogging up the window.

the tips of his fingers tease the seam of your knickers, a generic cotton fabric that clings to your dampening cunt like a second skin— desire trickling onto the gusset. your whimper is drowned out by the terrible music the driver is currently playing when his small finger grazes over your slit, featherlight.

"so wet already? i've barely even touched ya, love." again with the cunt-clenching nicknames. he has no business purring them out like that. "i can smell your sweet pussy from here. you really must be achin' for it." of course the time he chooses to be vocal, it's to spew filth. "don't worry, i'll treat ya good."

somehow, you actually manage to choke out a response. "i'm sure. johnny-" you hiss through clenched teeth when he slips under your knickers, a finger brushing along your slick entrance, "said you had him walking side to side once." you buck your hips, seeking the friction you need, but it only makes him pull away a bit; how unsurprisingly cruel.

"only because he was bein' a brat. you're not a brat though, are ya? gonna be good f'me?" your tongue is heavy in your mouth, words lodged in your throat— all you can give him is a slight nod. "i expect verbal answers. i'd hate to spank your arse raw. how would ya sit down after?"

the idea of being bent over his strong thighs, face pressed into his couch as his firm hand takes you into the needy subspace you crave is too much, or maybe not enough because you're tucking your face into the side of his neck in an instant. "please," you warble, unsure of what you're even begging for.

he curls his finger, slipping between your lips, and when he finally brushes your clit— a fleeting, tantalizing touch— your eyes threaten to roll into the back of your head. "needy little thing. i bet there's a damp spot right where you're sittin'. drippin' all over my fingers—" your breath is ripped from your lungs when he abruptly pulls his hand out and away, the sodden material of your knickers snapping against your heated skin. you're about to snarl out a vicious what the fuck, but the once-blurred scenery outside sharpens into focus.

the driver parks and looks at you from the rearview mirror. "we're here." you mumble a muted thank you, stepping out with quivering legs and a drenched cunt. a crisp breeze dances across your skin, a refreshing contrast to the stifling heat from inside the car.

as soon as the car drives off, you're hoisted onto a broad shoulder. the world tilts, and you fist the back of simon's shirt for stability. "highly unnecessary. i can wa—" you let out a squeak when he slaps the back of your thigh, the sharp bite of it sending a jolt straight to your throbbing center.

"hush."

you sputter indignantly as you hold on tighter, breaths coming out in short gasps, syncing with each step. "i beg your pardon?"

you yelp when he gives you another slap, this time closer to your cunt. "then beg." you're rendered speechless.

wow. maybe you've actually bitten off more than you can chew.

the wet cement under you is a blur, the texture lost in the rush of his movements until he comes to a stop, and you hear a familiar jingle of keys. he bursts through the door, the hinges groaning in protest, and you're staggeringly planted on both feet.

"nice place." a lie. it looks unlived in— brand spanking new. you vaguely hear the lock behind you as you take in your surroundings. a perfect, leather couch, not a crease in sight. the rug under it is pristine and bland, a cream color that matches the rest of his flat. impersonal. not an ounce of real personality anywhere. you begin shrugging off his jacket when you're suddenly pressed against the cold door, simon bent at the knees in front of you, his dark eyes— sharp as blades— lock onto yours.

"gonna beg?"

the fire in your lower belly reignites at the sight of his unmasked face. ash-brown hair in a simple crew cut, thick brows with the right one bisected by a pink, gnarled scar. slightly crooked nose, broken one too many times, and thin, pale lips. a countenance to match his rugged personality.

you're pulled out of your thoughts when he licks a hot stripe over your covered slit and you mewl at the sensation. "i asked you a question."

the words rush out of your mouth before you can even think of stopping them. "yes, yes! please, god, i don't- just- please let me come! i-" his thumbs hook into the waistband of your knickers and tug them down slowly, strings of arousal sticking to the gusset, smearing on your inner thighs.

"alrigh', since ya begged so prettily." your vision goes white when he throws one leg over his shoulder, and his slick tongue slides through your folds, the tip flicking your clit lightly. he laps at your cunt like it drips milk and honey— nourishing and sweet. simon groans into you, the sound crawling up your vertebrae and into the base of your skull.

he begins to draw lazy circles around your pearl, every swirl of his tongue has your back bowing as if winding it, inching you closer to the precipice. your toes curl in your shoes, hands finding purchase in his coarse hair, knuckles staining white as you start the feel the familiar tightening in your lower belly.

and then he pushes one thick finger into you, down to the scarred knuckle, and crooks it. the squelching noise your dripping pussy makes when he presses on the tiny patch of rough skin inside is loud and obscene; practically echoing off the dull, ivory walls of his flat.

"gonna come f'me? make a mess all over my hand?" simon adds another finger, a slight burn nipping at the heels of the pleasure coiling under your navel.

"c'mon. give it to me, pet." his lips encircle your clit, giving it a light suckle and it's—

the coil snaps, a sudden release of tension. it is violent and oh, so exquisite. white noise in your head, your ears, coursing through your veins. it prickles, it stings; it's pleasure and pain. your soul sinks back into your body— like a feather returning to its nest— and you blink, momentarily unbalanced.

"ya with me?"

you breathe deep— the taste of salt in the air, the scent of sweat-slick skin, your heart pulsing with life. "yes. i'm here." the man took you to the stars and laid you on them. jesus.

"good." the room spins, and you're weightless, nestled in his arms. it'd seem innocent if it wasn't for the stickiness in between your thighs, or the prominent bulge in his jeans occasionally pressing into your arse.

simon kicks a door open, knob bouncing off the wall with a crack, and quickly places you on the bed before tugging his shirt off. the belt and jeans come off next, and—

"you don't wear pants." why would he let that monstrosity just hang like that?

"good observation. is water still wet?" he asks, tonelessly. you narrow your eyes at him, pushing your tongue against the back of your teeth.

"fuck me for having eyes and using them as intended, i guess," you mumble under your breath. he grabs you by the ankle and tugs the skirt off, then your shoes, "ouch, i like my feet where they are, thank you," and literally rips your shirt in half. "you'll be giving me on of yours before i leave as recompense."

he holds himself up with his arms over you, your thighs burning as they cradle his hips.

his cock is a heavy, hot weight on your stomach— ruddy, leaking tip right under your navel. you're not small by any means, but he's going to tear you in half. there's no surviving such an onslaught. he's not just leaving you with a limp, he's going to turn your two smaller holes into one big one.

he tears into a golden wrapper with his teeth, and expertly rolls the condom on. simon lowers down to his elbows and nudges your jaw with his nose. "i'll stop the moment ya call it. tap on me if you're feelin' overwhelmed."

that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you, and the fact that it comes from a massive creep who stares at people like they owe him money has you a bit dumbstruck.

his stubble grazes the side of your neck as he glides his cock along your slick folds; once, thrice, until the head catches on your swollen entrance. simon pushes in slow, agonizingly slow— you don't know if it's better or worse because you feel every devastating inch of his length as it forcibly wrenches your walls apart.

your senses are solely focused on him: his body enveloping yours completely. his breath, sweetened like malt, wafts gently across your skin. his thick waist that you can't fully wrap your legs around. everything about him is big— his physicality, his presence, his cock.

"take a deep breath for me, pet. feel everythin' i'm givin' you."

your lungs expand as you do, and when you exhale, your muscles slacken. rapturous pleasure begins to bleed through the delicate membrane that separates it from the bite of pain, until boundaries are blurred and—

and he sinks into you like a rock breaking the surface tension of still water, bottoming out in one, smooth stroke. you can't help the mewl that falls from your lips nor the way your walls clamp down around him.

"fuck, there it is. so bloody tight, this greedy cunt is takin' my cock like it was made for me."

there isn't a single coherent thought in your head and you're glad for it. finally, someone to fuck you stupid.

simon gives you an experimental thrust, dragging his length along every single one of your nerves, and then another— desire overflowing from where he stuffs you to the very brim. "good. ready?"

he takes your tiny nod as an answer this time and begins to fuck you in earnest. it takes everything in you to not black out from how perfect it felt.

simon puts his weight behind every thrust, a steady pull out, and a spine-jarring push in. you can feel him deep in your stomach, a delicious pinch of discomfort each time he presses against the plug of your womb.

"so fuckin' wet, your cunt's droolin' all over me." he hooks an arm under your left leg and lifts, the angle he's put you in tittering dangerously on the tightrope of rapture and ache.

it's so good, so fucking good, your slick walls fluttering as he carves himself into you, your soul, your cunt when you feel a tight snap inside.

simon pulls out in an instant, taking your breath with him as he does. you look down at his cock and notice that—

"the condom broke. i've got another in the drawer, gimme a sec."

there is some weird thing that lodges in place somewhere deep in your sternum when you realize that he's been nothing but considerate and attentive to you since he brought you home and hasn't fussed over anything once. it's an extremely low bar, you are aware. rewarding what should be the bare fucking minimum is sad, but you're not completely altruistic in your motives anyway. you want to feel his bare cock inside as he rearranges your insides.

"no!" he quickly turns to look at you, "no. it's okay. i'm clean and i'm also on the pill. if that's okay with you, of course."

a man his stature should not move as fast as he just did, blinking from one side of the room to the other. he quickly throws both of your legs over his shoulders, heels resting on his back when he sinks back in, this time letting out a guttural groan as he does.

you can feel the ridge of his flared head, the warmth of his cock seeping into your tender walls— a new level of intimacy. he fucks you with fervor now, a precise snap of his hips that has your teeth clacking with every thrust.

your climax takes you by complete surprise, crashing into you like waves on a rocky, jagged shore. burst after burst of blinding pleasure threatens to consume you whole, and when your limbs are loose and syrupy— body limp— only then do you realize that he came just as fast. thick white ropes of viscous spend cover your stomach and trail down to your abused cunt.

your hamstrings already hurt with delayed onset muscle soreness. you might actually need a wheelchair to go back home.

(thank god your hips held out, and no, you don't care that it's essentially sacrilegious of you to even think that.)

his breathing comes out in ragged bursts, beads of sweat dripping onto the valley of your breasts.

and he's back to the fucking staring. "simon."

"pet."

"please stop looking at me like that."

he huffs and dips his head to flick your hardened nipple with his tongue, making you hiss with over sensitivity.

"make me."

-

as dawn breaks, the world begins to stir awake. hues of pale pink stain the sky, the first blush of morning. light and shadow begin to blend in the bedroom.

your phone vibrates under the pillow, simon's arm tightening around your soft waist at the buzzing sound. his lips press a light kiss on the sensitive skin by your ear, and his large hand begins to weave its way downward, pads of his fingers gathering the evidence of last night (or early morning) and gently parts your folds, brushing light strokes on your clit.

when he places your leg around his hip and sinks into you from behind, your phone buzzes again-- alone and forgotten.

good morning!!! i expect a full, detailed report by lunch or so help you god.

sent 5:30 am

about time you got laid, you're not you when you're horny.

sent 5:49 am

[sttm99]

Part 1

Stupidly, Bakugo wanted to think that after fucking you in the beach, you'd be nicer towards him.

He thought wrong.

As he walked past you in the dining area later that evening for dinner, you didn't even glance at him once. You were engrossed in a conversation with the people you were sat with, and he angrily made his way over to where Kirishima was.

"Hey. Dude, you okay?" The redhead asked as Bakugo sat down, slamming his tray on the table, a scowl on his face as he picked at his food.

"Fucking great." He mumbled in response.

He was not fucking great. He was irritated, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, hurt. It wasn't that he was in love with you or anything, but Bakugo didn't just fuck anyone.

You were beautiful, and he liked that. You were funny, and you were bold and teasing, and you'd managed to get him to swim naked in below 8 degrees weather. And he couldn't help how he felt when you'd looked up at him in that water, how your eyes seemed to bore into his with an intensity rivalling his explosions.

He fucked you because he was overcome with the desire to have you, to get closer to you than anyone else could. And now? Now it felt like whilst that moment had been everything to him, it was nothing to you.

He was pissed to say the least, angrily shuffling to the back of the bus, ignoring Kirishima and Kaminari calling out for him. He sat next to the window in one of the last rows, turning to keep his attention on the view outside.

"This seat's free, right?"

He paused, turning to look at you as you sat next to him, putting your backpack under the seat before you.

"The fuck are you doing?" He grumbled harshly at you.

You faced him with a raised brow. "And I thought I was rude."

He scoffed. "It wasn't rude when you completely ignored me after last night?"

You huffed. "I wasn't trying to ignore you at least."

"Really? Because you acting like I didn't exist, isn't you ignoring me?" He soat out, keeping his voice low so the other in front of and behind him wouldn't hear him practically whining.

"Sassy much? What is this? Is this how you are?" You huffed, folding your arms over your chest, your voice soft as you spoke. "And sorry if I was a bit too awkward to talk to the guy who fucked me just minutes after meeting me. I don't know if you think I do that shit alot, but I can't be all buddy buddy with you an hour after you had your dick in me."

He paused as you spoke, his expression softening and his anger dissipating as he watched you fold into yourself, becoming much less feisty, much less bold, red tinging the tips of your ears.

He sighed, leaning back in his seat.

"So... you're good now, or what?" He asks after a few moments.

You shrug, turning to look at him. "We good now?" You repeat to him. "Gonna go back to not knowing each other?"

He scoffs, like you'd just said something stupid. "Fuck no. D'you know how long I've wanted you for?"

You smile to yourself as the bus starts moving. "I'm flattered."

Bakugo spends the rest of the ride playing with your fingers on his thigh, asking about your favourite food, and your hobbies, and why your resting bitch face is so mean, all the while, adamantly avoiding making eye contact with any of his friends.