#and one of the woman made a joke about how its like
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loreandletters · 3 days ago
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Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Chick-Fil-A
The King, L’landis Plebarin, hadn’t stopped speaking. He stands ramrod straight, a large, obnoxious sword at his hip. The land behind him unfolds like a tapestry, a beautiful window into a world of fantasy. In Peter’s home, birds would dot the sky; here, there are dragons. They’re on the balcony of this prestigious building, so the view is high up and unobstructed. There’s no skyscraper to break up the horizon, or a thick smog to block it. 
The building they’ve climbed the steps of reeks of a strange otherness, enshrouded in a beauty that Peter has only known to be in ancient cathedrals and grand eastern temples. It’s beautiful, really. He’s sure they brought him up here to tempt him with their wealth, their beauty and fantasy. What a real fucking shame this King and his servants only know how to spew filth. 
“- and crush our enemies, who threaten our world.” 
Yeah, Peter had stopped listening after ‘we will gift you with slaves to own and women to conquer.’  
A high collared servant of some sort stood smugly by the Kings side, a polite smile scrawled across his wrinkled face. His too long robe fell into a puddle onto the floor, spreading out like a puddle of piss, except it floated before it could touch the stones beneath their feet. He wore another dress underneath, covering his feet, and Peter thought if magic was used so thoughtlessly, they might not be as stupid as they sound. Damn. There goes his punch-and-run plan.
The King stood confidently, his aged face warm with invitation. What a crime, for such a conventionally attractive man to be this vile. “What do you say, hero?”
Peter smiled, because sadly, he wasn’t the one with a giant sword on his hip or magic at his fingertips. “Your enemies, the Demons, are they the only ones I have to fight?”
“I wish it were so.” A weary look overcame the King. “Our land is surrounded by enemies. To the west, lay the Lipkons, who vie after our riches. Should we defeat them, I’m sure their Queen will make a valuable concubine.”
“Queen Kelamine is a proud woman, unnatural through and through. Worry not though, pride makes for feisty bed warmers,” the servant remarked. Fury burns begins to warm his skin, and Peter thinks how satisfying it will be to smack this fucker.
“They are a Matriarchy, the fools, so naturally they will be the easiest to fell.” The King rubs his chin thoughtfully.
“Right.” Peter agrees in pure habit alone. Strangely, this feels like dealing with an old customer, one who begins spewing the most ridiculous shit completely unprompted. He employes his usual coping method: a flat smile, a nod, and a dash of a desperate hope that he’ll get through it without getting yelled at. Fuck, it’s so annoying. He’d just finished with this shit not an hour ago, getting off a stupidly long shift with a line that just wouldn’t end. Fuck this old man and fuck Chick-Fil-A. 
“And then to the east, the dirty Halflings have made a kingdom of their own.” The King laughs like its a joke.
“A rabble of bandits more like, liege,” the servant says, “they are nothing to worry about. Built out runaway slaves and illiterate bastards.”
“Yes, we have nothing to fear from them,” the King agrees, “the North is ours, thankfully. The Dukes in charge had rebelled some time ago, but we have reasserted our control. Their heir resides here with us, so hence, the Northern loyalty is secure. And of course, the South is rife with the Demon Empire. So, yes Hero, we are in desperate need of your help.”
“I understand.” Peter closes his eyes. He’s cold, only standing on this balcony in his thin, red uniform. He hadn’t even been able to walk through the door of his apartment before all this shit. Couldn’t get iskeaied into a nice place, could he? Or any of the other kingdoms? Couldn’t be the east, or the west, or even the Demons - he had to get the sexist slavers, smack dab in the middle of the continent. No chance to run, no place to go.  What the fuck is his life.  
“So, Hero, will you take this challenge?” The King sounds confident, as if there’s no world in wich Peter will say no.
Fuck you, let me go home bitch, Peter thinks viciously, resentment bubbling up because this never should have been his problem. This man doesn’t even see him as a hero, just pawn in a really fucked up game. Kinda like Kaden, the power tripping bastard that thought being a manager of a round down fast food restaurant was equal to being god. Kaden only bothered to start acting nice when an audit came about. Fuck the King, fuck Kaden, and fuck Chick-fil-A.
“You’re asking a lot of me.” Peter grits out as politely as he can. Damn it all, just let me go home.
“You are right, what we ask of you is tremendous. But, know this, you were not summoned at random,” reverence emboldens the King Plebarin’s words, and Peter has to shove down the urge to scratch his face off, big fancy sword or not. “You were brought here for your strength, inwards and outwards. You may not believe in yourself, but I believe I do. You will be the one to save us, Hero. I know it.”
Oh, I’ll do more than that. Peter nods, more to himself then the king. Resolve slowed his heart,  quieting its rabbiting pace. Save you? Ha! I’ll be a hero, alright, just not yours.
“Thank you, your Majesty,” Peter bowed, his righteous fury and determination filling his chest, “it’ll be my pleasure.”
the king has a large problem. The hero that was summoned thinks slavery is "a bad thing" and women "should have rights"
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oifaaa · 3 months ago
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no bc despite all the flaws with the writing of the female characters in bnha, horikoshi kind of ate with not making froppy an "uwu frog so smol" character and instead making her asshole adjacent to bakugo -- idk their dynamic makes me giggle
I wouldn't really call Tsuyu a asshole she's more just blunt which I guess can come off as asswholeish at times
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ffc1cb · 2 years ago
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i’ve always found it peculiar how during meeting the chargers cutscene the game just assumes your character automatically understands what krem is talking about when he mentions binding (though, granted, it’s all very unsubtle). like, this is a roleplaying game. what if i want to play a character who just doesn’t get it
#dragon age#cremisius aclassi#inquisitor trevelyan#at least give me an in game explanation of why the inquisitor would Know this right away#it's not like transgenderism is a widely explored topic in da lore. the most you can find about it in inquisition specifically excluding#krem and seras countless transmisogynistic lines is one codex that mentions that some previous divine mightve been a trans woman#and the way it's written sucks ass. the infamous sex in thedas codex also mentions nothing on the topic of transness. so like#whats up with that#art stuff#before anyone says anything i fully realize how i look critiquing a bioware game that came out in 2014 on its faulty queer representation#please trust me i know. im just thinking out loud#ALSO. in case it isnt obvious. parsley transed they gender. the joke is that theyre a nonbinary femme now#its hard for me to show it through art because it would involve misgendering them but they dont actually start going by they/them pronouns#until after halamshiral. so like technically if i made them refer to themselves as he/him at any point before that it would be canonical but#its not like my art is chronological by any means and cannot be taken out of context by virtue of it existing as an individual post online#if someone were to reblog an art of them saying hi im a dude theyd go cool! hashtag male inquisitor. or something#the tragic case of sacrificing narrative in order to not get second hand discomfort at seeing parsley misgendered#ANYWAY..........
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rosesradio · 1 year ago
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wondering if the mutuals would actually try to fight me if i spoke my truth about the barbie movie…
#listen listen listen#it was just an acid trip…and while i agree with the messaging Of Course it just felt a little too on the nose#also was not a fan of the ‘in the patriarchy in barbieland the Barbies are being brainwashed ! there’s no other way they’d want to—#stay home and be a boring housewife !’ when like…it’s a perfectly valid choice. & feminism is about a woman’s right to choose#also something something cellulite something something#it felt like there were like a million stereotypically sized Barbies (like a size 2 or xs or whatever)—#& like 1 or 2 plus sized ones & like that was it. it feels like that for most movies these days but like where’s the medium/large girls yk#i didn’t like how they made ken a villain like i thought he’d have more of a fun/enjoyable role But I understand why they did it like that#also they never mention boys also play with Barbies? I get it’s probably more common for girls because Society but the movie was—#very sex-divided imo. and at the risk of a dad joke it kinda put girls and boys into boxes (ba doom crash)#overall between the catching the barbie plot and the stopping the Kendom plot and the ‘i wanna be a human’ thing at the end—#it’s like they were trying to put several different things together & it shows#i feel like people don’t feel comfortable talking about what they liked & didn’t about the movie because they’ll be accused of not liking—#its messages. but that’s not true for me anyway. i liked the messages and the aesthetic & all. but the way it came together was just…:/#rose.txt
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panticwritten · 6 months ago
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I'm putting my soul on the line with this one but Bones of Black Marrow by oxfordRoulette. It's one of those fics that I knew it was a terrible porn with plot fic going into it but like. The plot is intense. 'Supernatural being will genuinely love you and will still wring you out and smother you until you die and you cant even be mad because its in the nature of the being' all wrapped up in House of Leaves level of editing and formatting. i asked for this i asked for this i asked for this over and over and flashes of fear when you see what the thing is doing to you and when its all over can you forgive it? for all the things it has done in the past just because it wants to be better in the future just for you all for you?
we were banned from talking about it in a discord server because it kept dominating the nsfw channel's conversation. i was disappointed because i just wanted to talk about the overarching themes. the formatting changed the way i think about storytelling and the way the plot distills changed the way i think about writing relationships and the essence of choice in a story
fuck it everyone tell me about one fanfic which has changed your brain chemistry
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taeslarityy · 4 months ago
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outage ༄ joel miller one shot (18+)
-> pairing: no-outbreak joel miller au x female curvy reader
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-> word count: 4.3k
-> summary: after a citywide power outage, you're left to deal with the scorching texas heat. until, the well-respected neighborhood dilf — joel miller — lends you a more than generous hand.
-> warnings/tags: sarah is 10/11 so joel had her a bit older, power outage, texas heat, yes this is a warning because its not a joke, reader has a cat!!!, age gap (reader is 24, joel is late 40s), curvy/mid/plus size reader, brief fatphobia, reader has self-image/parent issues + is a lonely gal, fluff, SMUT (18+), unprotected piv, creampie, oral + fingering (f!recieving), squirting, body worship, brief ass play, daddy kink, big ole tits, spanking, spit kink, praise kink, a bit of belly bulge, cockwarming, pet names galore (darlin, sweetheart, baby, _ girl), joel has a huge dick (not canon!)
-> a/n: hi hi! i have been so anxious to begin writing again and currently have some wips that i am just not confident with. so when i saw the lovely @hellishjoel post her #hotdilfsummerchallenge, i was positive i wanted to join in! such a pleasure to be involved in this — thank you kylee for creating such a fun way for this community to get involved! as a curvier woman, i wanted reader to reflect that. because... joel miller is a handsy mf and loves to just grab himself some wide hips, thick thighs and phat tits <3 but ofc, this is can be for various body types. please please please, leave your thoughts and even constructive criticism! <3 DILF NEIGHBOR JOEL, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!!
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You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 
You release a groan of annoyance as the visual of your TV, coffee table lamp and humming of the refrigerator all flicker off into silence. The frills on your throw-blanket settle, as the ceiling fan no longer produces the small gusts of wind that have caused you to be rather chilly on this hot, humid and rainy summer night. 
When you made the courageous decision of moving across the country for a new teaching opportunity in Austin — you were never informed on the true brutality summertime unleashed onto Texas residents. More-so, you really had nothing to do but be caged up in the comfortable AC of your home. You’ve been here for roughly 14 months and the only "friends" you’ve made have been the 28 fourth graders you had the pleasure of teaching last school year. Tragic. 
Your coworkers, did not handle your arrival pleasantly. Young, beautiful, freshly-educated and determined. That’s what your grandmother referred to you as when you called her sobbing after your first week. Informing her that the seasoned teachers won’t even bat an eye at you, and when they do it’s a look of disgust. Whispering amongst one another. Like you were in middle school again, trying to befriend the popular girls. 
“I was foolish to think things could be different for me down here, so stupid of me.”
“Now listen to me, you are the most intelligent woman I know. More than anyone in this family. Bullies like that, it stems from an unknown jealousy and overbearing insecurity. Don’t let a few sour grapes ruin this outstanding career for you. Your students adore you already, and so do I. Just continue to be yourself and if that isn’t enough for them, so be it.”
Your grandmother always knew how to make you feel better. She had been instilling your own sense of confidence since you were a little girl. The only adult in your life to do so. If only her words were enough. Your coworkers just never let up. After overhearing them gossip about you during lunch break, you gave up your attempts indefinitely. 
“She really thinks she deserves a place here?”
“Look at her back rolls in that shirt…”
“She really needs to put that sandwich down.”
“Why is she so quiet? It’s freaky, honestly. No wonder she’s always alone.”
You’re not a stranger to being alone. You practically have been your entire life. Your parents never really bothered to form a genuine relationship with you, always so focused on your younger sister. She was the prettier, thinner, more impressive version of you. You have only had one best friend throughout your long 24 years on this earth. She was smarter than you and moved away from the timid small town you shared in Northern Maine, choosing an out-of-state university. So, being alone was a familiarity. You have made peace with it. But being lonely — that’s a whole other ball-park. 
The booming thwack of thunder startles you from your thoughts. Your sweet calico boy leaps from your warm lap and scurries under the dining table — tail puffed in fear. “Milo... it’s okay,” you whisper. He just gleams at you with his jet-black saucer eyes. Even you don’t believe your own words. You are not used to storms like this, and you didn’t really prepare. You read some articles online about stocking up: having plently of batteries, candles, non-perishable foods. Yet, you didn’t do any of that. 
Rubbing away the moisture from your damp upper lip — the heat inside your home already becoming unbearable. Deciding on a whim, you can head to a nearby hotel for the night. Unsure how long you will be without power and don’t wish to succumb yourself or your cat to the searing temperatures of the night. 
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The rain has slowed down, as you feel the soft patter on your umbrella. Throwing your purse and water bottle in the front seat, you begin to dread unpacking all this stuff when you get to the hotel. Bags, cat litter, cage — scrutinizing yourself mentally and deciding you better fucking prepare for the next storm. 
“Where ya headin’ sweetheart?”
Your heart jumps at the deep smooth Southern voice that fills your thoughts at night. When your hands would find their way in between your quivering legs. Throughout the day. Pretty much all the time.
Joel Miller is the only person in this town that has ever filled the lonely void you can never seem to fill. When you moved to the quiet suburban street, he was the first to come greet you as you struggled to pull your mattress out of the U-Haul. Immediately lending a hand, and proceeding to lug all of your remaining boxes, furniture, miscellaneous items into your new home. 
“Pretty lady like you, shouldn’t have to lift a single finger.” He remarked when you you blushed and assured him you could handle the rest, not wanting to be a burden. Even though the sweat dripping down your back was apparent and 5 minutes prior you had no idea how you’d be able to unpack the remainder of the truck. He then assured you — there was no way in hell you were being a burden. Words that were a rarity. 
Later that afternoon, he invited you for dinner at his home. You met his lovely daughter, Sarah. Where everyone learned that you were her new school teacher. What were the odds? 
Following that, seeing Joel was frequent. From parent-teacher conferences, backyard barbecues for the neighborhood, or even small intimate dinners with Sarah at each others homes. Sarah would even spend the night at yours on occasion. When Joel had a late night at the construction site, or when she just needed some girl time. You adored that little girl, and vice versa. 
You also adored the fuck out of Joel. 
So when you looked up at his porch, finding him in nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants.. your throat went dry. His tanned skin gleamed softly from the street light — little speckled freckles adorned his waist in various spots. And that darkish grey hair on his chest and fat of his lower tummy that flowed underneath his pants. Your brain fuzzy at the thought of your face pressed against it as you swallow his cock. 
But you were not a fool. Joel would never express an attraction towards you. A man like that? He deserved the perfect woman. 
“Darlin’?” He speaks again, a bit louder. Disturbing your wandering thoughts. 
“I- I was gonna head to a hotel for the night, my house is too hot already. And I don’t want Milo to be uncomfortable.” 
Joel’s eyes wander down your body as you explain — the plush jiggle of your tits in that small tank. Nearly spilling out. Slightly damp from the rain or humidity. The chub of your tummy spills slightly from your leggings. A sight that makes his cock swell unbearingly. An act that occurs more often than not when he sees you or even thinks of you for the countless minutes of his day. 
“No way. Not gonna let ya drive in this weather. Plus, most hotels nearby are gonna be overbooked. I got the generator up n’ working, got the spare room too. Your stayin’ over.” 
“No! No, Joel. I can’t.”
“N’ why not?” His hands have found his way to his hips, popping a knee out and giving you that classic dad glare. Not angry, but confused as to why you’re even protesting when he’s already decided. 
“I don’t want to intrude and I have Milo. You and Sarah are allergic.”
“Sarah left yesterday to stay with her mom in California for the rest of the summer. Besides, Milo loves me. I can handle a runny nose as long as I know the two of ya are safe.” 
To this, your stomach nearly flips inward on itself. You’ve never been alone with Joel in his home. Not for this long. The few times you’ve come over to help him with dinner before Sarah got home from soccer practice, have always been excruciating. Staring at him without worry. Watching his muscles flex through his t-shirts. Big hands chopping vegetables and plating food. His hand lightly touching your waist when scooting by. 
There’s no possible way you can survive a night in Joel’s home. 
But, he’s already grabbing his umbrella and walking over to you. He grabs your stuff from the car and tells you to go grab Milo. So, you do.
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Joel slips on a t-shirt after he put your stuff in the spare room, disappointedly enough. You nearly told him to keep it off, but held your tongue. You made yourself comfortable at the island barstool as you typed up some early lesson plans, Milo at your feet. 
He patters over to Joel who is now leaning against the counter, brushing against his leg. He then leaps onto the granite and purrs against Joel’s arm. 
“Psst! Milo get do-“ you beg, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. 
“S’ okay, sweetheart. He’s not botherin’ me,” Joel attempts to settle your nerves. Petting Milo’s soft fur and scratching under his chin, that special spot all cats love. “Can I get you anythin’ to drink?” He nods towards the coffee he’s brewing. 
“Coffee would be nice, thank you.” You beam at him. Joel’s heart skips a beat every time your cheeks puff up ever so slightly when you smile at him. It’s something he swears is the most endearing thing about you. Of course, he’s only ever shared that with his daughter. Who begs her father to just take her favorite teacher on a date already. 
Joel grabs some sugar and oat milk from the fridge, your favorite. He learned from the few breakfasts you guys had shared. A bit of sugar and a nice gulp of milk softens the dark roast color in the mug, he slides it over to you as he grabs his plain black coffee. 
“You remembered!” You giggle slightly at the Number 1 Dad title that adorns the mug, taking a sip. You moan at the taste, exactly how you like it. 
“Of course I did, darlin’.” You almost hate how easily those pet names roll of his tongue. You summed it up as his southern hospitality, figured he calls any woman those special names. “So, you ready for this new school year?”
An icky feeling settles in your stomach. The thought of returning to the painful and toxic work environment you can only escape when you’re with your students.
“Not without my Sarah girl,” you swiftly change the subject towards the one person he can talk hours about.
He smiles proudly at her name. 
“Ya know, she still all mad that you wouldn’t flunk her so she could have another year with ya.” Both your laughs quickly fill the empty house. 
“Well, even if I tried to, that girl is too smart for her own good. She should skip a grade in my opinion.” You state, and you’re truthful at that. Sarah Miller is as intelligent as she is quick-witted. 
“Yeah, she gets it from me.” At that you roll your eyes playfully. Typing something up before closing your computer and taking another sip of coffee. “Although I love boastin’ over her, I guess I meant are you excited to go back? They treat ya good there?” 
Joel watches the color drain from your soft skin. Realizing he touched somewhere that might be too personal. Too raw. “M’ sorry sweetheart, shouldn’t have asked.”
“No- no uh, you’re fine. Um, honestly? No. I’m not excited. The staff there aren’t exactly the kindest bunch.” You confess, slight unease crawling over you. 
Joel’s eyes scrunch in confusion. Mind blank on how the kindest soul he knows, could be surrounded by complete opposite. “Whatcha mean?”
You sigh letting the anxiousness settle a bit before speaking again, “they hate me. I don’t even know why, really? I have tried my hardest to get them to accept me but nothing seems to work. Whether it’s jabs at my appearance, teaching style, they’re never satisfied.” Your eyes are burning slightly, haven’t confessed this burden you constantly carry to anyone. “If it wasn’t for your daughter and my class, and… you.. well, I think I wouldn’t have made it through. I try to be strong, I try to be everything that people expect from me but it’s just so hard, Joel.” At that, the fat tears begin to stream down your face.
Joel was frozen in shock. Or maybe anger. Protectiveness. He wanted to hurt the people who made you feel like this. The least deserving of any pain. He sets his mug down and snatches you in his embrace. Holding your head with his hand, stroking your back with the other. He lets you sob almost uncontrollably into his firm chest. 
“I just hate being so alone.” You whisper, clutching onto him. You can’t even be embarrassed anymore, you’re so overthrown by his scent, his comfort. Comfort you’ve not felt in so so long. 
Joel kisses your temple softly, "promise you're not alone, sweet girl." He nudges your head to look up at his own sorrowful expression. His thumb running over your full lips, a bit swollen from your teeth biting down on them in an attempt to muffle your sobs. "So beautiful." He murmurs as he leans down to place a kiss on your left cheek, his lips skim over yours before he places another on your right.
Joel just barely hears the whimper from the back of your throat when that feather light skim happened. He leans back half an inch, staring into your glossy eyes. "Tell me not to, and I'll let you go upstairs and get some rest. Tell me, sweetheart."
It feels like a whole minute passes by. The soft patter of the rain, the smell of coffee beans from each others breath, the same slow breathing that overwhelms the little space between you both.
Desperation.
Your fingers tighten on his shirt, "don't let me go upstairs, Joel."
Joel smashes his mouth into yours, his guttural groan flying into your soft whimpers. The softness Joel expressed a moment ago is long gone. This kiss is messy, teeth-clanking, tongue inside your mouth. Like he wants to devour you from the outside in. He releases your lip with a pop.
He threads his thick fingers through the base of your hair and yanks it back gently, tongue on your neck. Biting the skin there. "You're so soft, baby. Just need me to mark ya up, is that right?"
You nod as hard as you can despite his harsh grip on your locks.
"I need you to use your words, sweet girl. Let me know what you're thinkin'."
"Everything you do is okay. I want more. I need it all. Please."
"Oh baby, cm'ere," he wraps your lavish thighs around his waist and hoists you into his arms. Easily. Like you're just the most delicate thing he's ever held.
As he walks to his bedroom, you smile into his neck. Arms wrapped over his shoulders, hand rubbing ever so softly at his greying curls. You bite at the skin under his ear and he gives your ass a huge squeeze. Groaning at how his big hands barely hold all the meat there. He couldn't wait to touch and gnaw at this body he loved.
At the foot of his bed, he taps your leg as if telling you to get down. You stand in front of his massive overbearing figure, staring up at him lustfully. You grab the bottom of your compression tank top and pull it over your head, revealing your unsupported chest. Your heavy tits fall a bit.
"My god," Joel falls to his knees in front of you, face nearly level with your pebbled nipples. Both his hands grab a fistful of each, rolling them in his palm. Your sweet noises fill the room and he swears he might've just came in his pajama pants right there. He takes his teeth and bite at the fat above your leggings, licking and sucking at a sensitive part of you. Literally and figuratively.
Joel abandons your chest to yank your leggings and panties down in one move, coming face-to-face with your prickly oozing pussy. He can't restrain himself much longer, spinning you around he pushes you down into his mattress.
He spreads your ass open with both hands, the chub of your lips open ever so slightly as the slick between them strings together.
"Perfect cunt." That's when you feel the chill of liquid spat right onto your puckered hole, dripping down to your clit. He leans in, tongue catching the tangy mixture of your slick and his saliva, right on your throbbing clit.
You screech into the sheets, so turned on from his actions. As he licks up to dip his tongue into your hole, one hand that's holding you open sneaks up your back, to your neck and yanks your head up.
"Nu-uh, let me hear you, baby girl." He demands as he pauses to throw his shirt off as fast as possible — not wanting to leave your cunt for too long without the warmth of his mouth.
He sloppily makes out with your cunt as it clenches and unclenches under his tongue, his beard prickling at your skin. Like he wants your scent all over him for as long as possible.
"Ohh daddy, more more," you whisper hazily, hand reaching back to grab his head desperate to have him as deep as possible.
Joel stops as he processes your choice of title. "What was that, darlin'?"
You freeze at his serious tone. Just now realizing what you've called the man. "Oh my god, I'm s-" Joel grabs your wrist and pins it against your lower back — thick middle and ring finger hooking into you with no warning. Your wetness aiding in the rapid slide of them.
He spits on your puckered hole again and abandons your wrist to land a harsh smack against your ass.
"Only dirty girls say that word, baby. Are you daddy's dirty girl?" He edges you on as he spanks you again on the opposite side. Hard. Unsparing. A side of Joel you've never seen. And oh, does it make you feel that coil tightening within you.
"Mmmm yes yes 'm your dirty girl, daddy!" You groan loudly, eyes swelling with fresh tears. But not tears of pain from earlier, pleasure.
Joel's fingers fuck into you harder, thumb now rubbing at your clit as he leans forward to prod his tongue at your asshole. "Cum for me, my nasty sweet girl. Drench my face. Let me taste you even more." He halts his fingers knuckle deep, hooked inside your cunt as he presses into that spot on repeat. Like he's stroking it out of you.
That's all it takes for you to silently scream as you squirt all over his lower beard covered face and your thick inner thighs, that nearly squish his head from how hard you're coming. Joel just keeps himself situated, never letting up. Allowing you to completely let go and rut back into him, telling him you need more.
"Thaaat's it, my good fuckin' girl.” He praises as he kisses your cunt and ass, he leans over your face capturing your lips in a kiss so messy and depraved. “Open that mouth.” Spitting roughly onto your tongue with a groan as you taste your sweetness that he knows he will forever be addicted to. No chance of recovery.
He ruts his thick bulge into your ass as you whine needly.
"Really want you to fuck my face, now." You beg, hand reaching down to grope him through his loose pjs.
"Mmmmm," he murmurs as his hips keep rutting into you. "Tonight is about you, baby. M' gonna stuff your tight cunt so fuckin' deep you'll feel it in your throat, don't worry." And with that promise, he releases himself, throbbing cock slapping against his lower tummy. You flip onto your back just to see it and your eyes widen at the sight before you.
You always knew it was huge just from perception, but god. It's thicker than your wrist, and looks like it would prod into your cervix. Painful even. Joel senses the worry on your face as he pushes your legs back against your chest. Admiring the way your stomach folds into itself, soft roll after roll. And the thickness of your inner thighs lays heavy. He just wants to get down and feast on you again but he might die if he doesn't feel you wrapped around him.
"You're in charge here, sweetheart. Understood?" He explains as he rubs his fat cock head up and down your swollen slit — notching on your opening with every downward stroke.
You nod slowly, peeking down at the monster between your legs once more. He squeezes your ankle, subtly reminding you to vocalize.
"Yes daddy, I understand."
"Good." And with that, he pushes into your fluttering hole. Your eyes roll back immediately, head thumping onto the soft duvet. He pushes in deeper, barely halfway in and he sees your feet and eyes scrunch a bit. It almost feels like he could rip you apart. Maybe it's because you haven't been fucked in a hot minute — or maybe it's just that Joel is so fucking hung. More than any guy you've slept with.
“Deep breath for me, sweetheart.” He soothes you, as soon as he sees your chest fall — he slams the rest of the way in. Hips flush with the back of your thighs. Cock fully sheathed in your warm soaked cunt. Heavy brimming balls pressed against your little puckered hole. “You feel so damn good. Dripping for me.” Joel’s eyes close at the feeling of you hugging him so tight. He suddenly forgets the feeling of any other woman he’s pleased. Utterly devoted to you from here on out.
When he pulls out all the way to his fat tip — it notches on your opening. Like he has to put in that extra effort to fully remove himself from you. But he doesn’t, and starts fucking into you fully. Never half way, never pulling completely out.. but always making sure he reaches the end of you.
“Da- daddy oh, harder please.” You plead, squeezing his forearm at the overwhelming feel of him nudging your cervix with every thrust.
That confirmation of pleasure is all Joel needs to push your legs back even more — ankles by your head — and began a brutal relentless pace. Grabbing a fistful of your jiggling tit and messy hair, he pulls your head up so you can watch how he ruins you for anyone else.
“Ya see that, see how swollen your gettin’ already?” Joel questions as he holds your head perfectly to observe the slight lifted pudge on your tummy. Paired with the way his coarse hair rubs against your swelled clit — it’s a drool worthy sight.
“Cus’ your so big, Joel.” You sigh, eyes fluttering from the primal force he’s using on your body.
A smug grin flicks across his face at the view. Mind consumed by the most perfect woman. Eyebrows turning inward, the little lines between them deepening as you try to comprehend all the emotions in this moment. Removing his hand from your head, he finds your clit and swipes it upward. Over and over. Leaning down, he sucks as much of your breast into his mouth as humanely possible. Tongue flicking the pebbled area, coercing your orgasm from you. “Cum with me, baby.” His muffled command shoots straight to your filled core.
As he feels you spasm around his thickness, he stills balls deep. “There it is, baby…” Spilling his cum inside your warmth. Plugging you, keeping you full of him. Joel relaxes his body against yours, finding your mouth to kiss you gently. Sweaty foreheads against one another. Joel goes to push off of you, his comforting body heat about to be ripped away.
"No! Wanna feel you longer, please."
Your protest makes Joel's heart surge. "Of course, sweet girl." Wrapping his large arms around you, he flips you both so that your soft plush body lays above him. The new angle makes his spent cock nudge a bit deeper, you both moan at the faint squelch of his cum overflowing your cunt. "You're so perfect," he mutters.
Smiling into his full chest, you leave a swift kiss. "So are you. Thank you for this. For.. everything."
Joel's hands finds your back as he begins gentle strokes onto your supple skin, his head resting atop your own. "Thank you, darlin'. I want you to understand something, you might just be the finest thing that ever happened to Sarah and I. Y'know, she didn't really want to see her mom. Never had the best relationship with her. She just wanted to spend the remainder of the summer havin' ya over everyday to swim and all. That girl admires you more than anyone."
Eyes foggy, you shift to gaze up at him. "And what does her father think?"
Joel pauses briefly, rich brown orbs beaming into yours. "Think she's damn right. She didn't want me to tell you this, but she left so I could have some alone time with you — take ya out. Scolded me sayin' by the time she's back, we better be together." He laughs at the thought, you join him. Picturing that 4'9 ball of fire lecturing her father on the rules of dating.
"So, you're asking me out Miller?" You question with a heavy hopeful heart.
"Should've done it forever ago, darlin'." He confesses, placing a delicate kiss on your temple.
And with that, you place your head back onto the warm chest of the man you've craved your entire life. Realizing, ever since that day where he first greeted you with that sultry gentleman voice — you were never truly alone.
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thank you truly for reading! let me know your thoughts below or in asks!! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3
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lilacgaby · 2 months ago
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title: gala gone wrong?
pairing: prohero!bakugo x prohero!reader
katsuki was suddenly forced to confront his feelings for you, when you were put in the date auction for charity.
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the heroes gala was something katsuki wouldn't look forward to normally. but this year he had a plan. he was going to ask you to be his date.
...originally. he chickened out last minute and owed kirishima 1000 dollars.
he was surprised to see you come alone though, opting to sit next to him which made him fist pump internally. you were a very successful hero who also doubled as a model. for what reason you ask?
none really, you just did it cause days off of hero work were boring. walking runways, topping charts, and beating villains with style was just another day for you.
you looked especially gorgeous this evening though, working with another up and coming designer to design a dress that perfectly complimented everything from your skin color, to you hair, to even references of your quirk.
katsuki suddenly felt underdressed in his suit, but to be fair every hero who was a man was dressed in a suit. except for monoma.
the auction portion of the gala started before the awards were to be given out.
the awards were pretty pointless in katsuki's mind. the only ones that mattered to him were the final rankings of popularity, efficiency, and the overall category.
"you nervous?" you whispered, talking over the first few lower ranked hero's to be auctioned for a date.
"nah, i know i won at least in popularity." he said, trying to keep eye contact with you without stuttering.
"hmm. what if i won? huh?"
"shut up."
she put a hand over her mouth, when suddenly-
"and the last date to be auctioned, a night with the top ranked woman hero [name]!"
"huh? oh that's me!" you said, collecting your dress as you walked to the stage, leaving katsuki blinking in confusion to himself.
you were in this? i mean it shouldn't have been a surprise, you had a rabidly loyal fan base, even since U-A. but what was he supposed to do? bid?
"the bid starts at.. 15,000 dollars." you rolled your eyes and gestured for people to go higher, and they did.
"17,000!"
"20,000!"
"30,000"
numbers were being shouted from all around the room, with the highest bids barely even being able to be tracked. the bids ranged from new heroes who definetly could not afford you, to old men who you really wish couldn't afford you.
you covered your mouth as you let a laugh escape you, this was hilarious to you, you'd have to do this more often.
after a bunch of back and forth, one booming voice cut all the others off.
"500,000 dollars. cash." to your surprise it wasn't an old creep. grand, also known as shindo yo, had suddenly bid. just as they were about to call off the auction and announce shindo the winner,
katsuki's internal dialogue won and 'forced' him to bid too. "750,000 dollars." he declared.
he doesn't think he'd have done it had it been any other idiot who wanted a chance with you, but that loser had to go.
"sold! to dynamite! we've broken a record here folks, 750,000 for the charity of --"
the words faded into the background as he looked up at you, smiling and walking over to him. he felt is heart speed up, his hands drown in sweat, his hair puff out.
"if you wanted to take me out you could've just asked katsuki." you joked, taking him by the hand as you pulled him back to the table towards the back you two were settled in on.
"whatever, now we have an excuse to."
"don't tell me you like me or something katsuki? how embarrassing."
"i told you shut it."
she laughed and settled down, poking him on the cheek. "its okay if you do, i like you quite a lot dynamite."
he flushed red at that, tiny explosions being let out from his hands inadvertently because of how caught off guard he was.
she held his hand under the table, before looking straight ahead to the ceremonies going on in front of them. he smiled and leaned back.
the awards were pretty boring when compared to the view of you, so until they had gotten to the cool stuff he just eyed you.. daydreaming about the life you'll have together someday.
he focused again when the top three heroes in popularity, efficiency, and overall were to be announced by all might.
at the end of the night, not only did he leave with a number one trophy with 'popular vote!' embedded in its side and an all-might signature at the bottom,
he also left with a lipstick mark from you right on his cheek, some flowers, and a small note that read 'see you tomorrow :)'.
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yaymiyas · 4 months ago
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THE HUSBAND
warning: female reader, saer being….saer, yan!isekai!crown prince
a/n: i was so burnt out so lets see what i come up with ….its short ik and yes im cooking up something w cynthia LET ME COOK 🫡🙄🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯
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the idea of divorce was swimming in the mist of your mind hours before you regained most of the movement in your body. you knew you had to get out of this situation in a peaceful but quick manner. in your mind, leaving saer should have been easy since he hated edina more than the devil himself. he saw her as a shit stain satan left on earth to torture him for all of his days. so why are tears running down his face…thats odd? from all of the tweets, forums, and blogs saer had close to no emotions for edina. he hated her through and through. in the original story, he would’ve cheered of joy if she simply asked to part ways. so why was he sitting in front of you crying? was the bacon too salty? was he remembering the good ol’ times with his late father? ever since you’ve transmigrated into this story, everything has been so weird. aside from you being close to perfectly fine after being fed poison, saer has became more careful.
in the book, saer was close to a bubbling idiot. every single assassination attempt was stopped by a maid because he was stupid. he always played it as cynthia and amanda favoring edina but that wasnt the full truth. he was just too obvious with everything he was doing. you actually kind of felt back for the dummy, no wonder gracie wants nothing to do with him. regardless of any of that, you actually started to feel a bit bad for him. it was obvious saer didnt know why he was crying or how to stop it by the way his face was balled up in red confusion. maybe it was out of guilt or for the plot, either way you wanted to help him. maybe he wanted to kill you but seeing a grown man cry really did break your heart.
“now, saer..”
gently pushing your hand out to cover his larger ones, you put on a voice of concern. you want to help the poor idiot but you also want to get out of this house alive. maybe playing the sweet docile wife could do you some good, maybe—
“ugh, stupid bitch get off of me.”
slapping your hand off of his, saer attempted to keep a face of pure disgust plastered for you to see. why on earth was he crying, and why on earth are you being so off-putting? at first, your new actions didnt really bother him. were they different? yes, but they weren’t unpleasant. but now...it was as if the poison made you utterly indifferent to his presence, which he told himself he loved, but the lord knows thats a lie. you quietly sitting there, dry-face, with a slight frown and uninterested body language, angered him. saer was crying purely for reactions. he thought that crying would help him close this conversation and make you jump up and beg for his forgiveness, but no. all you did was lift your grimly, beastly fingers to ‘comfort’ him. what a joke of a woman.
“im finished with my breakfast”
the scream of the chair was louder than your own thoughts, kicking you out of your own subconscious. what even was that about? you were TRYING to be the version of edina you thought he would like, second from you killing yourself right there and then. so why was he acting like you were trying to jump his bones? he is such a wicked man….such a sad excuse of a person. its such a shame his attitude is so sour, you were going to try to soften his walls to see if he would lighten up on the poisoning situation. how did he get it? who did he get it from?
“madam,”
lightly placing her hand on your shoulder, cynthia appeared. scaring you out of your thoughts, you straightened your back and put on the best fake smile you could. you knew cynthia didnt really care for you, as demonstrated by the bath she gave you earlier, but you thought that maybe you could melt this ice queen. her soft ginger coils shaped her face in all the right places, giving her olive skin the type of glow women in the real world would kill for. she had green eyes to match alone with it, making it easy to find yourself lost in them. cynthia was a beautiful woman; just how did she become a maid for this jackass?
“his royal highness has ordered for you to be sent to your room.”
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777heavengirl · 3 months ago
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Jolene
James Potter x Reader One-shot ! warnings: childhood friends to lovers, jealousy, fluff, slight sirius x reader for the plot, raw dogging posting bc it has not been looked over by my beta reader whoops! word count: 5,311 masterlist notes: sorry i disappeared for like a week, i started classes— anyway this was born out of me listening to Jolene by Dolly Parton on repeat and realizing it is describing lily enjoy!
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Lily Evans was a gorgeous woman. Her emerald green eyes and the milky skin clad in freckles were incomparable. Lily Evans was like the sun, her flaming auburn hair and the mere fact that she was one of the brightest witches in the castle. You knew this quite well, the shine of her hair, the glow of her smile, the softness of her skin. James would never let you forget it. How no one could compete with her. How her beauty was beyond compare.
Yet you couldn't hate her, not how she seemed to know the answer to every question, not how she stood up from the bed neighboring yours looking as radiant as ever, every morning. No, Lily Evans was sweet as honey and the best dormmate you could ask for. You couldn't bring to dislike her even when the man you were sickly in love with raved about her. 
James Potter was a beautiful man. His hazel eyes shined big and bright, the strong curves of his face, the curly black hair that bounced as he laughed, and his warm brown skin. James was the definition of sun-kissed. Your families had always been stuck together like glue, you spent your entire life attached at the hip, growing up next to him was a blessing and a curse. His never-ending joy at life, and the jokes that bounced off of his lips, were enough to turn anyone's day around. His smile was so bright you felt like you were staring at the sun itself. James was like the sun, you could never look at him directly, not for too long. As he grew girls threw themselves at his feet, he became a bit of an arrogant brat, but he always made it clear he only had eyes for one girl.
James Potter was in love with Lily Evans— the most perfect woman in the world.
You were such a fool. 
"Come off it," Lily laughed as she pushed James his body rocking to the side as he also giggled to himself. They had gotten closer the last couple of months, seemingly out of nowhere. You couldn't help but watch pathetically from the couch on the other side of the common room. You wondered what he was saying to her, his hand covering his mouth as he whispered in her ear. Her eyes shone with humor and joy, and so did his although a bit more mischievous, but that was just James. You couldn't help but clench your hands together, nails digging into your flesh.
"You should stop doing that dollface" Your eyes flickered back to Sirius, who leaned over from the back of the couch, his face awfully close to yours. You couldn't help but hold your breath. His nimble fingers took your hand, loosening your grip on it and massaging the half-moon marks on your hand. You went to turn away, Lily's laugh breaking the silence again and calling for your attention but Sirius turned your head towards him with a single finger, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours and something you couldn't see. "Just keep looking at me don't question it-" You could barely hear what he said, but his lips broke into a shit-eating grin, shiny teeth bared at you. And you couldn't help but laugh, slightly out of nervousness, but mostly because Sirius's antics were always ridiculous. Your laughter made his smile widen. 
He placed a small kiss on your temple and said thanks doll, as he let go of your hand and disappeared again. 
"He's ridiculous," Remus barely glanced from his parchment, his feather still grinding his essay away. The slight suspicion of what Sirius was up to crawled its way into Remus’s head as he watched the two of you interact, as he watched James's giggles stop from across the room, distracted.
”You’re not wrong there,” you frowned as you turned back to balancing your book and the essay you had been working on, on your lap. “I wonder what’s gotten into him”
Remus just chuckled without looking up. You didn’t hear Lily’s or James’s giggles again.
-
Sirius had started sitting next to you in every class, often replacing James, waving him off with a sit next to Moony, more often than not. This seemed to push James further into Lily's arms, as he sat next to her, she didn't seem to complain. You weren't loving it. Not that you disliked sitting with Sirius, he was more than competent, against all odds. But still.
 "May I ask what you're playing at Black?" your words were low as your charms professor droned on and on about something you hadn't really been paying attention to. 
"Whatever do you mean sweetheart?" He gave you his familiar toothy grin, eyes dancing with devilishness "Can I not sit next to my dear Y/N? One of the smartest, most beautiful witches our age?" you scrunched your nose, lips suppressing a smile at his antics. "Not to mention one of my best mates?"
"You know what I mean Sirius, you've been awfully touchy lately" His smile widened, and moved his face slightly closer to yours "Not to mention awfully close," this last part came out as a whisper. He really had been close, always a breath away, always pushing his face close to yours. Two nights ago he had smushed himself to read your book along with you, you had been practically cheek to cheek. 
Sirius had always been touchy, he was always resting on someone, sprawled on James’s bed, his legs across Peter’s on the couch, asleep on Remus’s shoulder. But this was a little out of character.
Sirius opened his mouth to speak but the large bell signaling you guys were done echoed through the castle. He broke into a grin again, and grabbed his stuff quickly, shoving papers and quills inside his bag unceremoniously.
“hurry up doll,” he muttered as moved to shove your stuff equally as clumsily into your bag and took a hold of your wrist, dragging you. You pushed by your friends, shooting a look of confusion toward Remus. He smiled at you with a wink, as he walked. 
Sirius finally stopped and you ran into him. 
"For Godric's sake, what is up with you?" You finally got him to let go of your wrist and he closed the door to the empty classroom he had shoved you in. "If this is you trying to seduce me— it definitely isn't working I think we gotta send you to a workshop,"
He snorted as he shook his head, "If anyone is going to a workshop on seducing it's you doll," you crossed your arms and huffed "I'm trying to help you out here-"
"With what Sirius?" 
"Making Prongs jealous duh" he looked at you like you were stupid, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. A small twinkle in his eye caught your eye, it was the type you saw when he was about to make something detonate. Maybe this time he wanted to explode your life.
"You're absolutely bonkers" You couldn't believe what he was saying, as if James would ever be jealous of anyone in respect to you.  
"You fancy him no?" He twirled his wand around, his grey eyes analyzing your facial expressions. You tried your hardest to keep a poker face, trying and failing to not let him see. Sirius had always been a very observant man.
"It's a lost cause, Sirius," you laughed dryly as you thought of it, "she has me beat"
He frowned, "who?"
"Lily, obviously, are you stupid?" he pulled at a piece of your hair at the insult "You've lived with James since we were 11, he's been utterly smitten with her ever since he met her what do you mean who?"
"I think you're the stupid one, they're just friends" You shook your head, a hand going to massage the bridge of your nose as you thought about what he was saying. "yuh huh, Prongs told me so himself"
"And you believed him?" you scoffed "he says he's over her every four months Sirius I didn't peg you as gullible" 
He pulled your hair again and you swatted his hand away. You thought about it, James has said the same thing before, how he's over her once and for all, I, James Potter will be over Lily Evans by the end of the week. It had never worked. Their whispers and their giggles, their closeness over the past couple of months were definitely not friendly. Maybe it was for her but for him? Not a chance.
"I really do think you have a chance with him," his tone was lower now, "I reckon he just needs the right push"
"Sirius even if she isn't into him, even if he didn't like Lily, the most perfect woman on the planet" he frowned "he would still never see me as anything more than what I already am to him," you stared straight into his eyes.
You had thought about it many times of course. You prayed and pleaded to the universe every year that Lily would never reciprocate James's feelings. The second you saw their newfound closeness you felt like dropping to your knees and begging her. Begging her to please Lily don't take him. Lily was a captivating woman, she could easily have her choice in men, and she did, but you felt like you could never love again. You knew it was a lost cause, you had heard her name muttered in his sleep, even when he was napping with his head on your lap. The first time it happened, you hadn't even noticed the tears on your cheeks, nor the ones welled up in your eyes. It had always been clear to you, how easily it would be for her to take him, he wasn't your man. She just had to say yes.
So you cried, time and time again, away from prying or worrying eyes. This was your secret to bear. 
You looked at Sirius again, shaking your head. Sirius could feel droplets of regret settle in his stomach as he saw the tears well up in your eyes. He had never seen you cry. 
“Fat chance Black”
-
James Potter thought the world of you. He knew he could not live without the curve of your face, the way you smiled at him as if you knew something he didn't. He felt like you could see his soul. You always said he smiled that way too. He wondered if this overlapping trait was a byproduct of a childhood spent together. A childhood spent glued at the hip, one of him being your knight in shining armor when you played, a childhood of sticks and stones that he never let your knees touch. His knees were covered in scrapes and scars that would never fade, but something deep within him never allowed him to let the same happen to you. James Potter could not live without you. He couldn't help but watch how Sirius draped himself over you, and how he hurried to sit next to you. He couldn't help but notice the whispers and the giggles. He couldn't, for everything that was sacred, ignore the closeness. And the fact that you let Sirius press his cheek to yours and whisper merely a breath apart. That part had made his stomach turn. 
It wasn't that the two of you weren't close. It was just that James had never seen you be close like that with anybody else. He had spent almost every day of his life by your side. Asleep with your cheeks pressed together, childish limbs all tangled up, you always woke up first and shoved him off the couch. He remembers when you used to hold his hand, his was always dirty with mud and grass, you never cared. You asked him to marry you when you were seven.
He promised you he would.
As you grew up, you continued with this closeness. You had slept in his bed more times than he could count, even at Hogwarts sometimes you'd climb into a corner of his bed. You'd always end up pressed against one another. You would still accidentally nap together on the couches at Potter Manor, or his head on your lap in the common room. And he could admit that Lily Evans had caught his attention, it had been an ongoing thin, and after certain revelations... Deep down he knew. 
It had always been you.
James could only stare after you as you set down the hallway with the black-haired boy. A pat on the shoulder from Remus was enough to ground him again. James thought of Sirius's hand around yours. 
"Where are they going-"
"Probably to snog in some empty classroom until they undoubtedly get caught," Peter spoke mindlessly as he struggled to untangle his sweater from his messenger bag. James stopped dead in his tracks. He hadn't thought about it. The possibility that the nearness between you and Sirius was something else, that you could be involved more intimately.
He thought of your lips, the soft plump lips that kissed his forehead. The ones that stretched into a smile every time you saw him, the ones that curled involuntarily when he said something stupid. The same ones that had kissed him in spin the bottle merely a year ago. He thought of those same lips kissing Sirius. 
He might throw up.
 James stared at Peter wide-eyed
"What? I thought we all assumed they had something going on" he shrugged as he finally separated the two items. "They're all close and disgusting everywhere— just like you and Lily-"
"There's nothing between me and Evans," Remus and Peter raised their eyebrows at the confession. 
"You're always together so I just assumed" Peter's words might as well have been a mumble to James, as he continued to think of you and his best friend. How long had this been going on? 
“Well there’s nothing”
-
You couldn’t help but think about what Sirius had said. He convinced you to let him do his thing, you don’t even have to do anything. But you couldn’t help but run laps around the thought of James being jealous. He didn’t seem upset with you having to kiss Remus during spin the bottle two months ago.
You thought back to the time you kissed. Your first, and most likely only, kiss with James Potter had been by the graces of an empty bottle of firewhiskey last year. You never failed to remember how he laughed after you kissed, a warm full-chested laugh, the kind he gets when he’s all riled up after outrunning Filch. The kind he gets when you set muggle fireworks in the forbidden forest and have to run away after lighting. You pushed him and he simply smiled widely, as if nothing had happened. It was a sharp contrast to the way he seemed to go all shy after Lily had to kiss him. His face seemed to go red and a small smile pulled at the corner of his lips. 
Yes, not at all alike.
You wondered if Lily thought about that kiss as much as James probably did. You couldn’t get the image out of your head, his lips on hers. The lips that pouted at you every time you told him no, the same lips that kissed the top of your head when he passed by behind you and you were too engrossed in your work or broke into a smile every time you saw him. The lips that in childhood had kissed your hand and called you princess. You thought of those lips, kissing Lily. 
Probably right now, it was 10 pm and she wasn’t in your dorm, her bed vacant next to yours.
“Why do you look so worried, sweets?” Marlene couldn’t help but notice the way you curled in your bed, the deep frown that had taken hold of your brows. She kneeled next to your bed and pushed the center of your eyebrows, “You’re bound to get wrinkles Y/N stop that”
”I don’t care Marls,” you unclenched your eyebrows nevertheless.
”What’s got you so down?” She leaned her head across her forearms on your bed, her short blonde hair looked windswept, her bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “is it Sirius?”
You moaned in frustration. Marlene Mckinnon was one of your closest friends. She was the first person you got close with at Hogwarts, her bed sat left to yours, she was your closest confidant. 
“There’s nothing between me and Sirius-“
”Potter seemed to disagree he wouldn’t stop bombarding Sirius with questions during dinner,” you had decided to hide out in your room instead of going down for dinner, Marlene had set a muffin on your nightstand when she entered.
”What did Sirius say?” you bit your lip
”He just told him it was none of his business— I thought Potter was going to burst a blood vessel right then and there” she laughed as she pushed her finger on your forehead again, smoothing out the frown lines.
”Sirius thinks I have a chance with James,” her mouth did an o “he wants to make him jealous but I think he’s full of rubbish” Marlene had known for a very long time about your futile crush on the boy, it was hard to be as close to someone like Marlene, someone so in tune with people’s feelings without her finding out. She always shot you sorry looks when you'd see him with Lily. You pretended to ignore them.
”I can’t believe I’m saying this but Black finally had a good idea”
You groaned into your pillow, your hands pulling slightly at your hair. “What sort of friends are you guys?” Your words were muffled by your pillow and she laughed again but patted your hair,
”Friends that want you to be happy-“
”Yea well this isn’t the way” your voice got louder and higher pitched, you felt like you'd suffocate on the pillow “I’ll be happy being her bridesmaid when they get married and have three kids and live in a cute little house, and I'll be godmother to their children and be happy that at least I didn’t explode one of my closest friendships because the two of you have lost a couple of screws!” you tried your best to push some humor through your voice, you might've been grasping at straws. 
”Who’s getting married?” Lily shot you a playful look from the doorway, you hadn’t heard her come in. You wanted to disappear into your sheets, you couldn’t even look at her right now. She groaned as she dropped her pile of books onto her bed.“Is Sirius giving you trouble? He seems so taken with you-“
You groaned as you buried your face into the pillow again, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow you. Marlene found the whole thing more than hilarious, her whole body shook as she laughed and she wiped her eyes of the wetness that had formed at the corners. 
“I’m going to kill him-“
”What? You guys have been so smitten lately I just thought-“ Lily’s face twisted in thought, nevertheless the edges of her lip curled upwards
”Nothing is going on between me and anybody,” You got up swiftly, a bad mood settling in your stomach like a pile of rocks. “I’ll just see you later-" You grabbed a sweater, that you were pretty sure was one of the boys, it would not help you hide in the darkness of the castle but hopefully it would provide some warmth. You bent down to take your shoes from beside the door and walked out without further comment. 
“Was it me?” 
“I fear it might’ve been Lils” 
“Hush-“
”Don’t tell me to hush Moony— you’re stepping on my toes” Sirius whined in a whisper
”Prongs you need a bigger cloak” 
Sirius peered over James’s shoulder as the speckled boy opened the map, the footsteps at the end of the hall seemed to get nearer
“oh” James felt a swirl of emotions in his chest,
”Who is it Prongs-“ Peter barely managed to squeak out before James answered
”It’s just Y/N” the marauders huddled around the map now, watching the banner with your name circle the corner and float down the hall they were hiding in. “What d’you reckon she’s doing up-“
”Shhhh she’s getting close-“ They could see you now, James's brown sweater covering you, one of your shoes untying as you padded down the hall. Tears were in free flow now, they could see even through the darkness, the splotches on your face, and the tracks of tears down the curve of your face. You wiped them furiously with the edge of the jumper. 
Something inside James warmed, all he wanted to do was close the distance. He looked briefly at Sirius, whose eyebrows were furrowed in worry. Sirius always hated seeing people he cared about cry. James wondered if he had done something to you. If there truly was something between you and Sirius.
You had well passed them now, but the marauders could still hear your sniffles from down the hall. 
”Merlin-"
"hold the bag Moons" Sirius pushed the small bag of dung bombs onto Remus's arms and slipped out from under the cloak. Sirius couldn't help but smirk as James protested, whispering furiously to get back here.
Sirius started running then, to catch up with you, his light jogs and tall legs allowing him to catch up with you quickly. Your heart shot up as he got closer and you could hear him near you, quickly dying down when you turned to see the dark-haired boy behind you. Sirius hoped James could hear from here.
"Whatcha up to doll?" 
"Godric Sirius what is wrong with you-" you placed your hand on your chest, feeling like your heart might fall out of it at any moment. You decided not to question where he came from, you just hoped the rest of his group, and James were far away.
James couldn't help himself, he was desperate to know what the two of you were talking about. So he herded the other two down the hallway, enough of a distance that you wouldn't notice the shuffling, Sirius definitely did, but close enough that he could see you clearly. The soft, homely mess of your hair, the tired curve of your eyes. He knew you were nervous, the way you played with your fingers and rocked your body, your leg. He could hear your honeyed voice, your tone close enough to the one you'd mumble to him with when you were about to pass out in his bed.
"Many things actually, I fear it all boils down to my mother-"
"You're so utterly insufferable"
"Yet you love me,"
"Sadly, I guess I love you" James felt the knot tie in his throat at your words, he tried to recall when you had said those words to him. Sirius smiled at your words, his fingers pulling at a strand of your hair. "oi watch it—"
He hoped James was ready to blow a fuse. Actually, he knew he was.
"Marlene agrees with you by the way," You softly swung your foot, hitting his own rather softly "I suspect you've both lost it"
"Nah, great minds think alike doll, you just gotta believe in me" he got closer now, pulling you into a hug. "Will you tell me why tears were falling down your pretty face?" He slightly rocked you, his cheek smushed against the top of your head. Sirius naturally would've comforted you regardless, he hated nothing more than seeing his friends cry. But the thought of James watching and stewing in his unexplored jealousy made him giggle in his head. 
James's face was twisting in a way that was unfamiliar even to him. Bitter and negative feelings weren't exactly part of his repertoire.  Remus tried his best to stifle a laugh. 
"Lily just came in, while I was talking to Marls about the whole thing and I guess," you sighed loudly, looking up trying to make the newly formed tears that gathered in your eyes absorb back. James always thought you and Lily were pretty close, what could you possibly tell Marlene that you didn't feel well telling Lily? Why hadn't you told him? "I don't know Sirius I just lost it, she started talking about you and me and I lost it, I wanted to scream at her" James could feel his blood boil, Sirius had done something. He knew Sirius had. You buried your face in his chest again "My frustrations aren't her fault,"
"I know sweetheart, I'm sorry" Sirius continued patting your hair, he worried now, about what James could hear. He felt bad now, that he knew they were invading your privacy. "I feel guilty-"
"No Sirius it isn't your fault"
"I feel like I'm just opening up the wound, I don't want to give you false hope-" James felt like a teapot ready to explode with pressure.
He pulled the coat from over the three boys, revealing their presence in the hallway. You felt like you were going to drown in your shame.
"Sirius Black you're a bastard-" James closed the distance quickly, going straight for a tackle rather dramatically. Sirius pushed you away just in time. As the two boys wrestled on the floor, James continued to call him names, the idiot's and how dare you's flew unceremoniously. All Sirius could do was laugh
"I knew you'd do something to'er you good for nothing-" James was shaking him now, ignoring the fact that Sirius kept laughing, "I knew you'd make her cry-"
"James he didn't make me cry," your tears flowed down your cheeks again, you felt shame and embarrassment swim in your chest. You cried because you knew you had to come clean, Sirius wouldn't do it for you. There weren't many excuses he could come up with right now. You could feel yourself sweating cold, like the morning dew on leaves, embarrassment stuck to you.
You couldn't help but take a good hard look at him now. At James, who looked at you with his stupid hazel eyes the size of the sun, who clutched at his best friend's shirt collar. At his brother's, for you. How brashly he had swooped, sweet James who always came to your rescue, even when you didn't need it. When you were barely 7 and ran around his large yard, the rows of flowers and bushes his mother grew were gorgeous and they seemed the height of buildings, the thorns will cut you, I'll get you a flower Y/N. He had always been your knight, the shield of comfort where you hid from the rest of the world, the gentle solace to return to when life got too hard or people teased too intensely. Those people often woke up with apple-green hair thanks to him. 
James was the noblest man you knew, with a heart twice his height. 
You had fallen in love with him for this exact reason.
"It's you James" James felt like someone dropped him in the middle of the black lake. You shook your head, a sad smile carving your expression. 
"I made you cry?" he sounded 7 again, innocent and afraid that you'd be hurt. His voice was soft and traveled faintly through the otherwise quiet hallway. Remus and Peter seemed to be holding their breath.
"I love you," James dropped his grip on Sirius now, who hit his back painfully against the stone floor with a groan. All he could manage was to look at you, his weight still resting between Sirius and his knee on the floor. "but I know I can't compete with Lily and that's alright, I reckon one day it'll pass." 
You took his silence to heart, Remus couldn't help but shoot you a worried look, his brows furrowed the way they always did when he could tell your heart hurt like he could hear it clenching. You gave them one last smile, trying to wipe the sticky fingers of embarrassment from your being as you began to walk away, praying that nothing stood between you and the common room.
"You're an idiot Prongs-" Sirius pushed James off, and the brown-haired boy rolled to the floor, his back against the cool stone as he thought of you. 
”She loves me-“
”We all heard her,” 
“Shut up Moony-“
”Well she doesn’t know does she-“ The boys looked at Peter like he had grown a second head. “That you love her.”
James groaned from the ground the skin of his cheeks feeling hot.
“I reckon you oughta go after her” Peter said as he put the map in his back pocket, the three boys stood around to James looking at him from at ground. 
James buried his face in his hands. You seemed so defeated, so sad that you loved him. How could that ever be a sad thing? 
“In a surprising turn of events Wormtail’s right, move it Prongs-“ Sirius kicked James in the thigh, causing the boy on the floor to jump into action. He stumbled up, looking comically disheveled. He opened his mouth to speak to which Remus told him to Just go!
So James ran, he ran through the hallways so fast he thought he’d start levitating. It wasn’t hard for him, to catch up, not with the length of his legs or the pace he had set, in fact, he found you fairly quickly, yelling your name down the hall. You yelped as he skirted to a stop right into your arms, colliding with you with little force.
”You’re going to get us caught it’s after hours already-“ 
“I don’t care-“ he pulled you closer to his chest, his arms completely around you now “I had to tell you, and truly that’s just the thing I don’t care whether it’s morning or the middle night or truly any other time of day hell it could be in the middle of Charms-“
“you’re not making sense James-“
”Oh, right” He took a deep breath, but the silence lingered, his hand now skirting around the hair that framed your face, almost touching but not quite. His face was so close to yours that you could see the flecks of a light brown in the underlayers of his irises. “I just meant to say— to tell you that, well I love you too”
”I thought you and Lily-“ He got closer, if it was even possible, his lips ghosting over yours now, waiting for you. His hand remained steady at the edge of your jaw. 
“Enough about Evans yea?” you closed the distance, his lips had felt like a magnet pulling you in.
Kissing James felt different than kissing any other boy. It even felt different than the first time you kissed. This was sweeter, this wasn't under the scrutinizing gaze of your friends or the excuse of an empty bottle. This was intimate and filled with want, his soft plump lips seemed to fit perfectly with yours. The grip of your waist tightened and brought you closer to him as his kiss turned hungrier, and your hands traveled from his chest to his unruly locks of hair.
You finally parted with a sigh, a happy one you felt like. Satisfied.
He pressed his forehead against you humming in content. 
"I'm confused-"
"Lily and I are just friends now, she's not exactly into me, is she? Or men in general I reckon but regardless" He looked into your eyes, his hands now cupping your face and adoration pouring from his gaze. "It's always been you, I love you"
"I love you too, you twat-"
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this took me to long to cook up @prongsprincessworld :D
hope u all like it!!
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logansdoll · 4 months ago
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thinking about logan x reader who’s literally the most introverted but bluntest person he’s ever met. that meet-cute (if it could be called that…?) would be entertaining as hell
cottontail
wolverines are known to prey on rabbits... which would explain why Logan was looking at you like that.
CW: fluffy fluff, heavily suggestive, profanity, i kinda changed it up a bit, takes place after X-Men (2000), reader is a bit of a personality, reader also has a bunny mutation, again kinda iffy on how this turned out, etc. (@OstarwomenO for the inspiration)
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"And, finally, the gym," Ororo finished, motioning toward the door. "Much like the Danger Room, we use it to train or spar, but strictly without powers."
Logan cocked a brow, ears perking at the faint sound of music coming from the other side of the door, along with the rhythmic thuds of limbs slamming against a mat.
'Huh...'
Ororo insisted on giving him the official tour of the mansion now that he was back from his trip to Alkali, seeing as she never got the chance to when he first arrived.
And, of course—Logan being Logan—he waved her off, insisting he'd be able to figure it out.
But the woman did not take no for an answer.
"Someone in there?" he asked, shifting his cigar to the side of his mouth as his thumb jutted toward the door.
"Just (y/n)," she shrugged, an amused smile rising her to lips. "It's actually kinda ironic, she rolled in about an hour before you did yesterday."
That was the new smell he picked up on.
It was the same one the hallway was currently drowning in—not that he was complaining.
It was sweet and musky, with faint, floral notes and a smidgen bit of earth—like taking a breath of fresh air in the middle of a meadow.
"And I didn't run into her?" Logan raised a brow, feigning indifference.
Ororo let out a dry chuckle, as if she was in on a joke he wasn't, "(y/n)'s a... character. She kinda does her own thing around here."
Character?
Forget indifference, the man was intrigued.
"I can introduce you if you'd like," she nodded, her eyes widening slightly, remembering something. "Fair warning, she says whatever she wants. So just... don't be shocked when she says something appalling. She's a sweetheart once you get to know her."
'Jesus...'
She made it sound like he was about to meet some sort of feral grizzly bear.
Logan shrugged, and she let out a sigh, pressing the keypad and opening up the door to reveal you.
Grizzly?
No.
Feral?
Entirely possible.
With a wide grin, you weaved around, dodging jabs from the automated dummy before back-flipping onto the wall and pushing off like a spring.
Tackling the robot, you slammed its head into the ground, winding for a second blow when it suddenly bucked you off.
You recovered quickly, shifting in mid-air so you landed on your feet, before launching another attack.
Jumping high, you landed right on the dummy's shoulders, locking your thighs around its neck before effortlessly throwing around your body weight, sending it crashing to the ground
But that wasn't it.
With a soft grunt, and a small twist of your legs, you popped its head right off in a flourish of sparks and circuits—the action sending a warm tingle through Logan's stomach.
'Damn...'
You pulled yourself up off the ground with a laugh, grabbing the robot's body and tossing it in a pile in the corner—which consisted of at least twenty others.
"Finally," you sighed, jokingly, as the two entered further.
You sauntered over to your boombox and cut the music, dusting off your hands.
"This is a disgrace. How the hell are the kids supposed to learn from these things, 'Roro? They barely last two minutes."
She playfully rolled her eyes, fighting off her smile as she pulled you into a hug, "I hope you know you're paying for those."
You chuckled, giving her a loving pat on the back, "Put 'em on my tab."
Logan was still transfixed.
In all his years, he had never seen a mutant like you before.
(h/l), (h/c) hair, plump lips, heavenly curves, made evident by your workout clothes, or slight lack thereof, stark white bunny ears, equally white tail, paired with alluring (e/c) eyes.
You were dripping in beauty and confidence.
Logan, so mesmerized, didn't even realize that you'd already cruised your way over, and were now standing directly in front him.
"I take it you're Logan," you smiled, shamelessly staring at him. "If I knew you were this handsome, I woulda introduced myself sooner."
"(n/n)," Ororo scolded, pinching the bridge of her nose.
'Here we go...'
"Is that so?" Logan smirked, amused by your blunt start to the conversation.
"Hell yeah," you nodded, shifting you weight on your hips
You weren't stupid.
You saw the way he was staring at you, and you heard the way his heart frenzied when you walked over.
So what's to say you couldn't have a little fun?
After all, it wasn't every day you'd meet someone as sexy as Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding.
"Of course, I could always do that over a few rounds."
His brow quirked with interest, eyes slowly flitting over your body at the proposition.
"On the mat, that is..." you chuckled, reading him loud and clear as you turned to walk toward the sparring area, stretching out your arms.
"That works, too," he grinned, tugging off his leather jacket.
"You two are doing this? Really?" Ororo groaned, resting a hand on her hip.
"Yup."
"She asked for it."
Ororo sighed, deciding to check herself out for the day and head for the door.
"Y'know what? Knock yourselves out. I'm gonna take a nap," she waved, turning the corner. "Don't break anything."
Logan scoffed, cracking his neck as he stepped onto his side of the circle, "No promises..."
You grinned, pleasantly surprised by his seriousness.
Many assume that because of your mutation, you're just some helpless little rabbit—as kids, you and Scott got into a huge argument when you caught him pulling his punches.
But Logan seemed ready to throw down, a fact that not only excited you, but made the man move up a great many rungs in your respect ladder.
"You sure you want this?" you smirked, lowering yourself into a split, stretching your legs. "I don't go easy."
'Goddamn, how flexible is she—'
"Neither do I," he snapped himself back, playing it off with a chuckle. "Let's see how long you last."
You scoffed, tongue in cheek as you stood up, shifting into a defensive stance.
'I'm gonna kick your ass, mutton chops."
"I'd like to see ya try, cottontail."
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rin-may-1103 · 6 months ago
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Badger Day Au (part two)
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"Fourteen?" Aquaman repeats, turning his chair to face Danny. "Fourteen what? Days, weeks, months?"
Flash hissed like he was in pain, "Please don't say it's been fourteen months!"
Danny trailed his eyes away from the ceiling, away from the bothersome crack, and toward the single window in the room. He could just barely make out the Cassiopeia constellation. Its distinct W shape winked and flickered, drawing up a memory from a few loops into this whole mess. Tucker had wanted to comfort him, seeing as Danny had just broken down crying over how frustrated he was with everything.
The Ghost of Cassiopeia. Also known as IC 63, about 550 light years away.
A giant cloud of dust and gas. A nebula. Its ethereal glow reminded people of spirits they would see in haunted houses or fields. So they called it the ghost of Cassiopeia.
But it wasn't a ghost, it's simply hydrogen that's been bombarded with ultraviolet radiation from the nearby star. A blue giant called Gamma Cassiopeiae. It's also known as the center of the constellation. The light from the blue giant makes the majority of the nebula glow a vivid red. The blue around the edges is just light reflected off the dust within.
Tucker had joked that Danny should try and see how far he could get before the loop restarted. See if he could even get past Jupiter. Danny had just snorted and brushed his suggestion off. What was the point when he should be spending his time trying to fix the loop?
About six years in, Danny had given up and tried.
Eight months he had spent flying. He got further and further out into the void, surrounded by darkness and the beautiful stars in the distance to guide him. He never managed to make it past Pluto before he was brought back.
"Years," Danny confessed, his eyes still trained on the faraway stars.
"YEARS!?!" Superman cried, standing up so fast his chair was sent flying into the wall. Danny glanced back up at the crack, watching as it grew just a little larger, plaster dust sprinkling down like freshly fallen snow.
Sighing, Danny sat up and stared at the group. How many times has he had this conversation? How many times was he going to explain what was happening? How many times was he going to wake up in his bed just to restart all over again?
"Years," Danny repeated, "Fourteen years. Like I said, I've tried everything."
They sat in silence for a moment, just digesting his situation. Batman was standing still, his fists clenched tightly. Superman looked faint like he would pass out. Flash looked devastated.
Wonder Woman leaned forward, her brows furled in confusion, "Were you cursed, young one?"
"No, I checked. You checked. Heck, even Zatanna and Constantine have checked. I'm not cursed." Danny grumbled, slumping down to rest his head on the table.
He wanted to go home. He wanted to just curl up and sleep for the next however long. Wanted to hug Jazz and cry about how unfair it all was. Wanted to curl into his mother's side and cling until she made it all better. Hide behind his father until he knew it was safe.
but he couldn't.
Something always happened when he tried. If he stayed home from the very beginning of the day, the league would call him over and over again, convinced he was needed for the case Batman had. They even sent Flash over a few times just to search the city to drag him to the meeting.
(He was happy they hadn't figured out his civilian identity yet, but man was it hard to watch as Flash stuck his face into every nook and cranny around town yelling his name. Danny's lost count of how many times the man got overshadowed.)
If he managed to convince them that he was in a loop, then they found it would be safer for him to stay up on the watchtower. where they could keep an eye on him while searching for a way to break it.
Or, if he managed to convince them he was sick or something and they left him alone, Vlad would start acting up. Jack would call him on the phone to cancel Maddie's meeting with him because Danny was 'sick'. If he convinces Maddie to go and stay home with his dad, then Jack somehow opens the portal long enough for one of his rogues to slip through.
It just never ends. Everything he's tried ends with him having to go ghost and fight. The calmest day he's managed to have ended with Box ghost blasting the portal doors open so he could give him a homemade lunch from his wife, which then led the ghost to find Jack's new weapon box and go ballistic because of his obsession.
after that, he gave up spending time with his parents and focused more on his friends and Jazz. This was equally disastrous.
so, his safest option was to go to the meeting and stay with the league.
Glancing up, Danny watched as the time slowly changed on the clock; six twenty-nine, tick, tick, tick, six thirty.
Sighing, Danny sat up and held his hand out, making eye contact with Batman. He might as well get the day going, no use in wallowing in self-pity. He's done that plenty already.
"I already figured out what the cult wanted to do, we just need to figure out where their next meeting is. I'll fill you guys in on the rest." Danny added, wiggling his fingers in the hope it would make Batman move faster.
Batman sighed and handed him the folder. Once Danny had the folder, Batman sat down to listen to his report intently.
Flipping the file open, Danny grabbed the first page and showed it to the group, ignoring how a copy showed up on the big screen behind Batman. (again, why use paper if he was just going to project it?)
"This is the result of the cult's last meeting, two weeks ago. as you can see, the ground has been scorched and the ritual circle permanently carved into the cement." Tossing the paper and ignoring it as Flash scrambled to catch it, Danny grabbed the next couple of pages.
Holding up the seventy missing person reports, Danny placed them on the table and separated them into four different piles. "After some digging, Batman was able to figure out the pattern between the missing people. This group," Danny pointed to the one on the left, "consists of organ donors who were anemic."
pointing to the pile on the right, Danny continued, "This group is made up of meta-humans who have powers related to the elements. they also all happen to have more than one piercing, though Batman didn't really figure out if that had an impact on whether they were chosen or not..."
Pointing to the northern pile, Danny separated the top seven pages. "while everyone in this pile has some relation to an ancient and powerful witch from the 1500s, these seven are the only ones who still share her 'family' name. I'm not sure exactly how this affects the cult's motives, Batman hadn't shared that with me in all the loops so far."
Danny glared at Batman in annoyance, he didn't care if there was a good reason or not. Without fail, in each loop that Danny's made it through where Batman makes the connection; he would refuse to tell Danny about it.
Rolling his eyes at Batman's unwavering apathy, Danny continued, "The last pile consists of people who have been dead at some point in their lives. whether it be just a few seconds or a few weeks."
passing the reports around, Danny pulled the next page from the file. "Flash and Constantine were able to connect the past locations of the cult gatherings. Constantine figured out there was a specific magic signature that he could follow, so he had Flash drag him around the world to map the locations."
tapping the table, Danny selected the world map. Glancing at the paper he had pulled out, Danny marked the places with a red dot. Then he marked the places Constantine found in blue. Looking up, Danny found the league staring at him.
"What?" Danny huffed, shoving the hologram away from him. Batman grabbed it and started to examine it.
"So, do we need Constantine for this?" Green Lantern asks, scratching his head.
Shrugging, Danny tossed the folder over to Wonder Woman. "You can call him if you want, but he won't get here until noon. He's in the house of mystery dealing with a pixie infestation."
"pixie infestation?" Superman asks, turning to look over to Zatanna. Zatanna reached into her jacket and handed him a pamphlet, not turning away from watching Danny with curious eyes.
"Anyway, like I was saying. the cult's been going around taking all these people and using them in their rituals."
"you said you knew what they were trying to do, what was it?" Batman asked with a noticeable frown.
Sighing, Danny pinched his nose. "they've been trying to summon Pariah Dark."
"The ghost king!?!?" Zatanna squawked, slamming her hands onto the table.
"yeah, that bastard," Danny grumbled, rubbing his face. The cult hadn't been successful for all fourteen years now, so Danny wasn't too worried about it. But still... If something, anything really, changed just the slightest; would they succeed? Would they drag Prariah out of his sarcophagus and let him lose on the living?
Danny's already had to face him once, he didn't know if he could do it again. The Fenton ecto-skeleton suit had been ruined last time, to the point dad hadn't even tried to fix it.
"Bastard?" Aquaman repeated, eyes narrowed, "You speak as if you've met him before."
"I have," Danny admitted, "and I will again if we don't do something about the cult." What if this is the loop the cult succeeded? what if it's the next one, or the one after that? could Danny even do anything to prevent it?
Zatara sat down with a heavy thump, her eyes widening in shock. Danny lifted his brow, wondering what was wrong with her. She hadn't acted like this any other time? what was different? had he said something he hadn't last time? hmm, something to think about later.
"back to the case," Danny shrugged, turning to gesture at the hologram of the world. "we were able to narrow down the cult's next location to about seven hundred places. I was able to check off about six hundred and thirty these last few loops. That leaves about seventy places they could be."
Danny used a yellow dot to select the seventy places he still needed to check.
"um," Flash started, nervously glancing between Danny and the globe. "you just highlighted the whole grand cannon and all of Alaska... and the Himalayas.... and the-"
"Yep," Danny cut in, "Like I said, I checked off all the others. These are the last seventy I still need to check. I haven't before because it's a lot of ground to cover. I was hoping I'd catch a break and find the cult before I had to check all those places, but nope. The fruitloops just had to make it difficult.
"oh," Flash winced, "do, do you want me to check them out?"
sighing, Danny leaned back in his chair, "I would love to have you check them out, but you need a magic user who knows what they're looking for to go with you. it's why we haven't found them yet, it's taking forever."
"Oh," was the only response he got.
"you know what we are looking for?" Zatara asks, finally getting over whatever had surprised her.
"yeah, it's hard to explain. I'll have to bring you or the others to a previous place and show you."
"hmm, alright. after the meeting, why don't you bring me so that at least one more person can help start looking, until, john is freed up at noon?" she suggests, tilting her head to the side.
"sounds good with me," Danny shrugged. it's not like it'll hurt to have her looking around, heck, they might even get lucky and she'll find them.
Next
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artist-issues · 1 year ago
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I Hate How She Talks About Snow White
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"People are making these jokes about ours being the PC Snow White, where it's like, yeah, it is − because it needed that. It's an 85-year-old cartoon, and our version is a refreshing story about a young woman who has a function beyond 'Someday My Prince Will Come. "
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Let me tell you a little something's about that "85-year-old cartoon," miss Zegler.
It was the first-ever cel-animated feature-length full-color film. Ever. Ever. EVER. I'm worried that you're not hearing me. This movie was Disney inventing the modern animated film. Spirited Away, Into the Spider-Verse, Tangled, you don't get to have any of these without Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937.)
Speaking of what you wouldn't get without this movie, it includes anime as a genre. Not just in technique (because again, nobody animated more than shorts before this movie) but in style and story. Anime, as it is now, wouldn't exist without Osamu Tezuka, "The God of Manga," who wouldn't have pioneered anime storytelling in the 1940s without having watched and learned from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs in the 1930s. No "weeb" culture, no Princess Mononoke, no DragonBall Z, no My Hero Academia, no Demonslayer, and no Naruto without this "85-year-old cartoon."
It was praised, not just for its technical marvels, not just for its synchronized craft of sound and action, but primarily and enduringly because people felt like the characters were real. They felt more like they were watching something true to life than they did watching silent, live-action films with real actors and actresses. They couldn't believe that an animated character could make kids wet their pants as she flees, frightened, through the forest, or grown adults cry with grieving Dwarves. Consistently.
Walt Disney Studios was built on this movie. No no; you're not understanding me. Literally, the studio in Burbank, out of which has come legends of this craft of animated filmmaking, was literally built on the incredible, odds-defying, record-breaking profits of just Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, specifically.
Speaking of record-breaking profits, this movie is the highest-grossing animated film in history. Still. TO THIS DAY. And it was made during the Great Depression.
In fact, it made four times as much money than any other film, in any other genre, released during that time period. It was actually THE highest-grossing film of all time, in any genre, until nothing less than Gone With the Wind, herself, came along to take the throne.
It was the first-ever animated movie to be selected for the National Film Registry. Actually, it was one of the first movies, period, to ever go into the registry at all. You know what else is in the NFR? The original West Side Story, the remake of which is responsible for Rachel Ziegler's widespread fame.
Walt Disney sacrificed for this movie to be invented. Literally, he took out a mortgage on his house and screened the movie to banks for loans to finish paying for it, because everyone from the media to his own wife and brother told him he was crazy to make this movie. And you want to tell me it's just an 85-year-old cartoon that needs the most meaningless of updates, with your tender 8 years in the business?
Speaking of sacrifice, this movie employed over 750 people, and they worked immeasurable hours of overtime, and invented--literally invented--so many new techniques that are still used in filmmaking today, that Walt Disney, in a move that NO OTHER STUDIO IN HOLLYWOOD was doing in the 30's, put this in the opening credits: "My sincere appreciation to the members of my staff whose loyalty and creative endeavor made possible this production." Not the end credits, like movies love to do today as a virtue-signal. The opening credits.
It's legacy endures. Your little "85-year-old cartoon" sold more than 1 million DVD copies upon re-release. Just on its first day. The Beatles quoted Snow White in one of their songs. Legacy directors call it "the greatest film ever made." Everything from Rolling Stones to the American Film Institute call this move one of the most influential masterpieces of our culture. This movie doesn't need anything from anybody. This movie is a cultural juggernaut for America. It's a staple in the art of filmmaking--and art, in general. It is the foundation of the Walt Disney Company, of modern children's media in the West, and of modern adaptations of classical fairy tales in the West. When you think only in the base, low, mean terms of "race" and "progressivism" you start taking things that are actually worlds-away from being in your league to judge, and you relegate them to silly ignorant phrases like "85-year-old cartoon" to explain why what you're doing is somehow better.
Sit down and be humble. Who the heck are you?
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poisonousquinzel · 10 months ago
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@steaming-goblet-of-nutte-mylk
😭 except Joker's history with sexist behavior, his now over 3 decade long abusive dynamic with Harley, his gross obsession with Batman that has turned into SA before, the events of The Killing Joke & Barbara becoming paralyzed, are all significant and frankly Popular Joker plot points. It is consistent, it's his character at this point.
There's absolutely an issue in comics / their fandoms with inconsistency and back n fourth characterizations, as a Harley fan god I know skdjskd
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But Joker is not a character who's greatly affected by it. Like at all.
He's very consistent being an abusive, sexist pig with an obsession towards Batman.
And there is someone who wrote a comic where he won't work with Nazis, that's why folks bring it up. Because 1 time he did a morally decent thing of doing the literal bare minimum & not working with scum of the earth Nazis.
But things like him being abusive or sexist or gross towards Batman aren't aren't rare Batshit Insane plots that happened here and there and Are Inconsistent. Him not being like that is inconsistent.
These aren't things that only people who Really read DC / Gotham related comics know about. Him sexually assaulting Batman maybe since that comic isn't a primary timeline one, but his obsession with Bats is quite literally these people's proof of him being queercoded. So, no.
Joker's actions in these plots are the foundation for his relationships with Batman & Harley, and Barbara no longer being Batgirl and becoming Oracle is directly tied to Joker's horrid actions when he paralyzed her, she's Oracle Right Now.
Sure, especially with Harley, I don't expect people to know every single horrendous thing he's done to her because frankly, there's a Fuck Ton, and I didn't even list it all, I didn't even list half. (Hell, I'm sure there's still moments that I haven't come across yet and that's saying something cause I've consumed just about every single piece of Harley media out there)
But The Killing Joke is a popular DC story, his unhinged obsession with Batman is like the only thing his character is, if you know he's obsessed with Batman, then you know the basics of his character.
And his relationship with Harley has Always been abusive. Like, if all these folks have seen of DC is BTAS, then they still know that. Joker not being abusive towards her is significantly more rare, inconsistent, and Batshit Insane tbf. And 9/10 times the "good moments" are clear as day love bombing to anyone consuming the content that's got more than 1 brain cell, it's just love bombing. It's called the cycle of abuse for a reason.
That's why I said "like y'all's only reference for him is the fucking Lego Movie and GOD it shows" because that's how they act he is all the time. It DOES show.
The Lego Batman Movie Joker is the outlier, he's the inconsistent one when compared to 99% of Joker's out there.
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people in the replies of this keep mentioning Joker and him being queercoded n shit and it's just like 😭😭😭😭 y'all are so stupid I stg
Yeah the best example of a good villain whose not bigoted is *checks notes* the dude who violently abused his bisexual girlfriend, drugged her, pushed her into chemicals, ran her over with a car, infected her pet hyenas with rabies and had them attack her, hung her up by the neck with a chain, tried to forcefully impregnate her, pretended he was going to cut her face off to make her scared, made fun of her appearance to her face and to his goons, cut the side of her mouth open with a shaving blade, put a hit out on her, carved a J into her chest, pushed her out of a window 5 stories up, has kicked - punched - slapped - strangled more times than I could list individually,,,,, or has sexually assaulted Batman, and has sexually assaulted Barbara Gordon, is implied to have sexually assaulted someone in Joker (2008), oh and forced Harley to strip in a public crowded bar under threat of detonating the bombs in her and the squad's necks if she didn't. So ya know, also sa.
but hey !!! at least he's not said a slur! and he won't work with Nazis! as if that's not the literal bare minimum. Wow he won't work with Nazis, fucking NAZIS, do you want me to applaud him for doing the easiest thing that any person with even mildly decent or existent morals would decide? Ya know, not working with goddamn Nazis.
No one should be working with fucking nazis?? The bar is in hell.
Being an abusive borderline rapist with a sky high sexist streak is just casual Worst Villain behavior, he's not a bigot!
Everyone knows you're only a bigot of you 1. Say Slurs 2. Work with Nazis.
That's obviously the only qualifying criteria for being a bigot.
-
The Joker is a whole entire sexist with a history of severe in character abuse and sexual assault. but none of that matters to ((unfortunately large)) sections of the fandom or to locals cause some of y'all would rather just pretend he's an uwu messy gay dude who's just oh so in love with Batman and is not a sexist, abusive bigot cause fuck women and the suffering he enjoys putting them through right? like y'all's only reference for him is the fucking Lego Movie and GOD it shows
#Barbara fans correct me if I'm wrong as I don't consume a lot of her content and im sure i got a couple of yall here<33#but the killing joke's effect on her character feels pretty obvious to me at least#// hell just the sexist ass remarks he's made about Harley throughout the years and through like every media they've appeared in together#is enough for me to confidently call him sexist#''women am i right officer? can't live with em can't kick em out of a moving car''#i think leto's joker calling her an itch in his crotch should be enough in and of itself because it grosses me tf out#and ya know what so much stuff he's done being such a just Yeah That Sounds Like Something He'd Do / Say#is really fucking annoying because no matter what 9/10 times it doesn't matter if every other character is ooc he's so fucked in the head#that it always just feels in character for him#like the Joker / Mask comic or whatever DISGUSTING SEXIST TRASH but his character towards Harley? 100% accurate#Joker's Last Laugh? the comic where he sends his idk joker army to kidnap her because he wanted to have a baby regardless if she wanted it#horrid shit for Harley's character. her pain and fear and character is treated like a joke. its there for humor#and her final scene in the comic is a JOKE about her being sexually harassed by the military guards and strip searched Again just cause#but Joker not caring what she wants or that they're over or that forcing a pregnancy is Fucking Fucked Up? yeah thats in character.#he's never cared about what she wants or consent or anything#and its fucking frustrating because I'd like to disregard these comics mentally as the gross sexist trash they are but i cant#because regardless of how Harley's characterized or treated by the creative team its still accurate for how /He/ treats her#/He's/ still very much in character when it comes to their dynamic.#and I'm nothing if not someone who must collect every receipt for certain Harley topics and his direct actions towards her are one of them#the only other joker i can think of that doesn't just fit the same exact mold as every other one is Bianca and i still hate her#because she's a joker.#乁⁠(⁠ ⁠•⁠_⁠•⁠ ⁠)⁠ㄏ#but at the very least Harley(Holly) was with her (regardless of it being a woman) in like 1997 so#the very very very slim sliver lining is that Harley was shown to be bisexual twice in comic form before the 2000s#BUT THATS IT#// And idk about some of those other fandom plots#but I do remember as someone who was in the MCU fandom for a good while back in the Infinity War/Endgame time#that people really didn't like Captain America working with Hydra/ Nazis.#people were loud about disliking it and its inconsistency in regards to his character (never been a cap fan so idk more skdndks)#but joker's plots aren't like those listed. it's not weird wtf plots that mostly get disregarded its just him being him. a monster.
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penisbagelbite · 7 months ago
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"Affirmation" & Malgendering
"Fine, I'll 'respect' your gender, but I'll make it absolutely miserable for you. What? You don't like the way I'm 'affirming' your gender? Guess you'll have to stop being a (trans) man then."
I want to put something out there about what I call "malgendering". I see trans men talk about the phenomenon and acknowledge it as a part of antitransmasculinity but not the concept of "malgendering" itself and what it's purpose is, and as trans men and transmasculine people are especially caught in the lose-lose situation between misgendering and malgendering I think it is an important concept to establish. The erasure of transmasculinity, particularly as a unique gender and gendered experience, also serves to keep the transmasculine trapped within this double-bind, positioned between the gender binary of cis patriarchal ideas of womanhood and manhood, where for us there is only misgendering (being abused with the Woman gender) or malgendering (being abused with the Man gender).
I define malgendering as the practice of "validating" someone's gender identity only when it can be used against them and to hurt them, and malgendering almost always involves the enforcement of only the most negative sexist stereotypes available onto the victim with none of the "positives". If misgendering is forcefully pushing you back into your 'proper place' such as by calling you a "girl" or a "her" and showing you that you're really a woman through sexual assault -malgendering is scaring and traumatizing you into it by using your own gender against you. Malgendering is the realization that you don't need to misgender someone to hurt them or to punish them for the way they identity and push them towards the gender they're 'supposed' to be - you can do all that through 'validation'. It's psychological warfare on the sense of self.
This violence and abuse under the guise of "respect" and "identity affirmation" creates plausible deniability of intent and places the blame on the victim for "identifying that way", so much so that even other trans people will defend it and believe it's not maligned (especially because "but being seen as and treated as your gender is what trans rights is all about!" and "errm but its transphobic to not treat u this way?/ur misgendering urself by wanting to not be treated this way :/" with the hidden message being "don't like it? stop being trans"), even when faced with evidence of the (very much intended) effects it has on stalling and outright eliminating transmasculinity (ie. repression, detransition, suicide).
Some examples I can pull off the top of my head:
A transphobe is talking about a pregnant trans man. The whole energy of the Facebook video is 'comedic', and while calling birth the most “feminine” thing someone can do and alluding to how the trans man is really a woman, they still use he/him and call him a “guy” (in air-quotes). Not out of any respect but because the idea of a man being pregnant, calling a pregnant person a "he", and the very existence of the trans man in question, is the whole joke. In doing so, the transphobe has turned the act of using the proper pronouns and gendering him into a source of humiliation and made the experience of being properly gendered a demeaning one. -
The Ukraine military situation where all males aged between 18 and 60 were banned from leaving the country and obliged to serve in the military. Trans women were denied passage out of the country "because they were men", and trans men were similarly denied passage out of the country "because they were men". With the discrepancy between invalidating the gender of trans women and "validating" the gender of trans men, you'd think the motivation behind this would be obvious - that trans people are expendable meat and it's better they die than cis people. It shouldn't of needed to be said that "I'm only affirming your gender because it allows me to put you in a position where you will likely suffer and die and put the blame for it on you" is not 'respect' or 'affirming' at all but somehow this was taken as evidence for the idea of that trans men are more 'respected' and seen as their genders than others (and are thus 'privileged'). -
A common one almost every trans guy deals with at some point is cis people threatening to beat trans men up (and often following through), because "If you're a man and not a woman (anymore) that means I can punch you," using the proximity to masculinity that transmasculine people claim as a justification for violence. Every other week there's a new story in online transmasculine spaces about someone having their ribs broken with "Since/if you want to be a man so bad-" preceding the attack. -
The above is in a similar vein to when accounts of violence done to transmasculine people by cisgender men are brushed off and they're told something along the lines of "welcome to being a man", "that's just what men do to each other", "that's just the way things are with men", etc. along with the insistence that their attack had nothing to do with antitransmasculinity, making it an immutable problem with (cis)men as a whole - creating a sense hopelessness and that this is all they have to look forward to. -
Transmasculine individuals being refused treatment, tests, or insurance for gynecological issues, especially cancer, despite the knowledge that they are transmasculine, because "men don't deal with these problems" and they don't want "men in women's spaces", and if you don't want to be 'treated like a man' and get the care you need (and not die), you're going to have to go ahead and detransition, change that M marker back to an F.
All of this functions to create contention, and eventually a rift, between the individual and their sense of gender identity. Creating an association between being gendered 'correctly' and 'respected' as your gender (and ultimately existing as a transmasculine person) with abuse, violence, helplessness, trauma, fear, isolation... and by making transmasculinity and transmanhood uninhabitable and driving a wedge between the individual and their sense of gender identity you can more easily drag them back to their 'proper' place. Plant seeds of doubt by making being transmasculine an exceedingly unhappy experience. Make them think that everything that's happened is their own fault for choosing to be transmasculine or trying to be a man. That maybe since they're so unhappy this isn't for them. That living as a transmasculine person is just too difficult and they're not cut out for it, that if they "gave up" and were to be women again things would be easier and they would be safer and happier.
This also all serves to maintain cis patriarchal ideas of gender and the gender binary and police the boundaries of manhood, in a way I can't articulate right now.
Through all this, despite being called "men" during malgendering, we are not actually perceived as such. We are always an "other". Acknowledging us as "men" is just another weapon, and why some transmascs flinch at the phrase "trans men are men". Our own genders are used to beat us.
Using a scrap from my .txt journals:
"[...] on the subject of having a core aspect of yourself taken from you and turned into a weapon to beat you with, with the result being that aspect of yourself now becoming a source of trauma and pain so you abandon it and lock it away like an awful secret, that’s exactly what happened with my gender. Being genderless and a(nti)binary is what I’m most comfortable as, a(nti)gender is my ~real gender~, but I have to admit a lot of this is because I have been traumatized out of any gender with binary associations and have consequently come to know gender itself, and the act of gendering, as violence. Gender is but a designation for what exploitation, abuse, and violence can be enacted upon you and the justification there of. When someone asks whether you are "masc" or "femme", behind their back as they face you is a hammer in one hand, and a knife in the other, and what they are actually asking is if they can pummel you or lacerate you. When it comes to the “direction” I’m transitioning in though, it is obviously “masculine” (as much as a negation of "femininity" is always taken as stepping towards "masculinity") and you wouldn’t be entirely wrong to call me “transmasculine”, though I have been scared to death of being acknowledged as such."
My first encounter with malgendering was when I was 13 and had just started to realize I was "ftm" and looking for community online. My first exposure to any affirmation of transmasculinity was someone I came to respect reblogging a post about how Kill All Men includes trans men. This would set the precedent of the next decade of my life of existing while transmasculine. A decade of only hearing the words "trans men" and "transmasc" used negatively and as the butt of jokes that served to reinforce patriarchal ideas of gender. The consistent and relentless denial of transmasculinity as a unique gender and gendered experience, the denial of transmasculine reality especially in regards to misogyny, and continuous abuse and threats of violence, all under the guise of affirming trans men's genders as men (and affirming the gender binary in the process). A decade of having antitransmasculine sentiment fed to me in every way possible.
For me, the experiences of antitransmasculinity and malgendering from non-transmascs has effectively "chased" me out of my transmasculinity and any acknowledgement of it. For years I have hidden my transmasculinity and presumed "AGAB" out of fear, even in queer and supposedly trans-friendly spaces. I have not been able to associate with any “masculine” language in reference to myself without feeling that I am in imminent danger, have made a grave mistake, and suffocating in anticipation of punishment. I have always been scared of posting any of my art that eludes to my transmasculinity. I have always been terrified of being referred to or perceived as “transmasc”, a “trans man”, of being called a "guy" or “dude” or “bro”, of using "he/him" anywhere. All of it. Deep down on some level I do desire it, but it’s been forbidden and only aggravates existing wounds.
And this, in turn, pushed me out of associating with other transmasculine folks out of fear and internalized antitransmasculinity towards other transmasculine people, isolating me from any community or connection with anyone similar to me, exacerbating my loneliness and alienation as a youth to the point where now as an adult my ‘normal’ human social needs – connection, community, relationships, empathy – are completely broken. I don’t feel loneliness anymore, or the desire to connect to anyone, despite in ways being even more alone now than I was then. In a way I believe antitransmasculinity shaped the path of my schizoidism. Isolating and divorcing me from my transmasculinity and the world at large is what I understand to be yet another point of this type of antitransmasculine rhetoric - because when you've destabilized and isolated someone from their whole sense of self and community, they are much easier to control.
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liz-on-leash · 1 month ago
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Live To Breed
[Commissioned]
VIVIZ SinB/Hwang Eunbi
Gangrape, Mentioned Death, BBC Tribesmen, Breeding, A Lot Of Cum, Vaginal Fuck, Anal, Pregnant Fuck, Some Other Heavy Stuff.
3,919 Word.
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The day started like any other for VIVIZ, but shit was about to hit the fan in the most fucked-up way possible. SinB, the feisty one, Eunha, and sweet Umji were bouncing around in their jeep, deep in the heart of the African jungle, looking for some thrill.
The girls were living their best lives, laughing and joking, when all hell broke loose. A freaking stampede came outta nowhere, like some shit from a horror movie. The driver hit the brakes, but it was a lost cause. 
The jeep went flying, and SinB went airborne, straight into a goddamn tree. Her clothes ripped like wet tissue paper, and she was left bruised and bleeding, screaming her lungs out.
"FUUUUCK!" SinB howled in agony, her voice raw as a guttural scream. Her sexy outfit was in shreds, exposing her smooth skin, now marked with scratches and cuts that would make a horror flick proud. 
She tried to get her ass up, but her body was like jelly, trembling and weak. Where the hell were Eunha and Umji? She cried out for them, her voice fading in the vast jungle.
The jungle, usually buzzing with life, went dead quiet, like it was mourning the crazy shit that just went down. SinB's pleas for help bounced off the trees, her voice cracking with each desperate call. 
The pain was a bitch, clouding her vision, but she fought to stay conscious, refusing to black out. As the sun started its slow descent, painting the sky with fiery colors, a crew of hulking dudes appeared, straight out of a tribal wet dream. 
These motherfuckers were ripped, their dark skin glistening with sweat, and all they wore were tiny-ass loincloths that left nothing to the imagination. Their bodies were inked up with tribal tats, and their eyes held a wild intensity.
SinB's mouth hung open as she took in the sight, momentarily forgetting her pain. These dudes were built like gods, and their sheer size made her feel like a tiny doll. 
They muttered to each other in some ancient tongue, their deep voices rumbling like thunder, probably discussing the hot mess of a woman in front of them.
"Help... please, help me," SinB managed to whisper, her voice scratchy and weak. The men's eyes narrowed, their gazes intense enough to burn holes through her. 
They didn't give a shit about her plea, probably thinking she was some crazy jungle spirit. The biggest dude among them strode over, his muscles flexing with each step. He scooped SinB up like she weighed nothing, causing her to whimper.
This beast of a man carried her through the jungle like she was his prize catch. SinB's eyes darted around, taking in the unfamiliar sights of their camp. It was like a scene from a National Geographic documentary, with buff dudes going about their business, their bodies glistening with sweat and dirt.
These savages didn't waste time with pleasantries. They ripped what was left of SinB's clothes, leaving her in her skimpy underwear, her curves on full display. 
She tried to cover up, but these guys didn't give a damn about modesty. They cleaned her wounds, their rough hands exploring her body, and wrapped her up with some dirty-ass cloth.
"Fuck off!" SinB tried to fight, but it was like a kitten swatting at a lion. A sharp slap landed on her face. "Ugh!" She tasted blood, her lip split open. Another jab to her ribs had her gasping, reminding her just how helpless she was.
The men finished patching her up and shoved some weird-ass herbal shit down her throat. SinB choked and spluttered, her eyes watering from the bitter taste. 
Satisfied, two of them grabbed her, ignoring her weak struggles, and hauled her ass to a nearby barn. Inside, it was like a damn dungeon, filled with terrified women from different corners of the world.
The women were a sorry sight, some crying their eyes out, others moaning in pain, their bellies swollen with pregnancy. SinB's heart hammered in her chest as she realized she'd landed in some tribal sex cult's lair. She tried to scream, but her voice was shot.
Just then, all hell broke loose outside. A group of the tribal dudes, their massive cocks swinging free, dragged a screaming woman outta the camp. Her pleas were met with laughter and crude catcalls.
The men's laughter was like a sick chorus, their eyes wild with lust. SinB's blurry vision focused on their massive dicks, already hard as steel, ready to invade some poor woman's body.
The men wasted no time, and the woman's screams echoed through the camp, a haunting soundtrack to the night's twisted festivities. SinB's eyes fluttered, her mind overwhelmed by the day's events. 
The last thing she saw before passing out was the terrified faces of the captive women, knowing their fate was about to get a whole lot worse.
The night had turned into a fucked-up, twisted sex fest, and SinB was front-row center for this sick tribal ritual. Her eyes popped open as the barn erupted with screams and moans.
The women, who were once crying their eyes out, were now getting pounded by these tribal beasts, their cries echoing like a damn horror movie.
"Oh fuck, mercy, please! No more!" a woman begged, her voice raw from screaming her lungs out. But the men just kept pounding her from every angle, their dark, sweaty bodies slamming into her like wild animals.
"Harder, you motherfuckers! Break me in half!" another chick screamed, her body bucking as two dudes took turns drilling her, their cocks stretching her holes like she was some damn sex toy. 
The scene was brutal, but damn, it was hot as hell. Even the preggo ladies weren't off-limits.
"No, not my ass! My baby... oh, fuck, no!" a pregnant woman wailed, her eyes rolling back as a dude hammered her ass, not giving a damn about her swollen belly. The sight was enough to make SinB's stomach churn.
SinB's eyes were like saucers, taking in the savage display of raw, animalistic fucking. Her body ached to run, but she might as well have been glued to the ground. She tried to crawl away, but it was like trying to escape a pack of hungry wolves.
"Please, just let me go, you bastards!" SinB's voice was raspy, barely a whisper.
These dudes weren't having any of it. They grabbed her like she was their personal plaything. One dude chuckled, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine.
They pinned her down, their rough hands holding her arms and legs, spreading her wide open like a buffet. SinB screamed and kicked, but it only made these animals harder.
"Let me go, you animals! Help!" SinB's pleas were desperate, but they just laughed, their eyes wild with lust.
The dude on top of her, his cock already hard as steel, ripped her panties off like they were nothing. "No, stop! Get your hands off me!" SinB shouted, her voice breaking as he groped her tits, squeezing and twisting her sensitive nipples until she saw stars.
Pissed off by her resistance, the dude stood up and stomped on her stomach, making her gag and cough. Before SinB could catch her breath, another dude was on top of her, his thick cock aiming straight for her mouth.
SinB's eyes widened as his cock invaded her, stretching her jaws to the max. This dude was packing an anaconda, and it hit the back of her throat, making her gag and choke.
He grunted, face-fucking her like a pro. SinB's throat bulged, moving up and down, her eyes watering, snot and spit flying as he pounded her face. Another dude cheered, slapping her ass hard enough to leave a mark.
The dude pounding her face went to town, his balls slapping against her chin, making her gag and choke some more. SinB's body shook, her bound hands clawing at the dirt, her throat working overtime to take that massive cock.
He growled, his hips slamming into her aching throat. SinB's eyes rolled back, tears mixing with the spit and snot as she struggled to breathe. Her throat was on fire, but this dude wasn't letting up, his cock throbbing, ready to unload his cum down her throat.
The barn had become a twisted, hardcore sex dungeon, where SinB's screams and the other women's cries were the soundtrack to a night of brutal, non-stop gangrape.
The tribal black men were on a roll, and SinB's mouth was their fuck toy. These motherfuckers took turns shoving their thick, veiny cocks down her throat, face-fucking her like she was their personal cum dumpster. 
SinB choked and gagged, her eyes watering like a waterfall as she tried to take their massive cocks. One guy gripped her hair like a leash as he pounded her face. SinB's throat was getting fucked raw, her gag reflex going crazy, but these animals just kept going harder.
Another guy shouted, slapping her face with his thick palm. SinB's cheeks stung, but he didn't give a shit as he jammed his cock down her throat, making her eyes bulge like a cartoon.
"Can't... breathe!" SinB managed to gasp between the thrusts, her voice muffled and desperate. But these savages just laughed, their rough hands holding her head like a pet, forcing her to take their cocks.
One after another, they blasted their hot cum down her throat, making her swallow their seed like it was her job. SinB's belly was swelling, her throat on fire, and she felt like she was gonna puke her guts out.
"No more... gonna puke!" she whimpered, her eyes pleading for mercy but a hard slap landed on her cheek, making her see stars.
One man growled, grabbing her hair and forcing her mouth open for his throbbing cock. SinB gagged, her throat convulsing as he face-fucked her with zero fucks given.
These native men were all about getting their rocks off, and they didn't care about her comfort. Some even used her hands and thighs to jerk off, covering her skin with their hot, sticky loads. SinB's body was a mess, covered in sweat, cum, and bruises.
The barn was a horror show, with women's screams and moans filling the air. SinB's eyes darted around, witnessing shit that would give her nightmares for life.
"Help... I'm pregnant! Have mercy!" a woman begged, her belly shook as two men double-battered her pussy and ass. The poor chick was screaming, but they just kept pounding until she went quiet, her body limp and her holes bleeding.
A man grunted, his cock buried deep in the ass of a woman who was clearly out cold. SinB watched in horror as he pumped away, not giving a damn about the blood or the fact that she wasn't even conscious.
“No, no, no– Oh god!" another woman cried, her body arched and bruised as three huge black men took turns violating her. Her screams turned to whines, then silence as the pain overwhelmed her.
SinB's throat was on fire, and her stomach felt like it was gonna explode from all the cum she'd been forced to swallow. When a cock finally pulled out of her mouth, she puked, spewing a mix of cum and bile.
"Fuck— argh, can't swallow anymore!" she begged. But they didn't give a shit. A sharp slap landed on her mouth, making her eyes water.
A man barked, grabbing her hair and shoving his cock back in her mouth. SinB gagged and choked, her throat working achingly to take his thickness as he fucked her face with no mercy. These tribesmen made sure to mark her as their territory. 
They flooded her mouth, on her body, and even made her lick their balls. SinB's body trembled in disgust, her throat and mouth abused, but they just kept going, their cocks throbbing and unloading their semen wherever they pleased. 
Time had lost all meaning for SinB as the assault on her mouth continued. These tribal studs had been using her face as their personal cum dump for hours, forcing her to swallow load after load, even as she puked it all up. 
Her stomach felt like it was gonna burst, her belly swollen and hard, a testament to the endless cumshots she'd been forced to take.
SinB's body was a mess, her once flawless skin now glistening with sweat, her hair sticking to her forehead. 
Her lips were swollen and bruised, gaping open as if they'd forgotten how to close, and her throat was on fire, like she'd swallowed a flaming blade. She couldn't feel her face anymore; it was just a numb, throbbing mess.
Her curvy body had gone limp, her arms splayed out on the dirty ground, but the men held her head up, ensuring her mouth was always available for their pleasure, cocks sliding down her throat, making her gag and choke, her eyes rolling back in her head.
SinB's mind was fuzzy, her body exhausted, but the men showed no signs of stopping. Her throat was so fucked, it felt like a permanent part of their cocks was lodged in there. She couldn't even swallow her own spit without pain.
As another thick release was forced down her throat, SinB's body went into overdrive. She convulsed, her eyes rolling back, and for a moment, she thought she was gonna pass out. The man finally pulled out, letting her fall to the ground like a ragdoll.
SinB gasped for air, her body twitching uncontrollably, her throat and mouth leaking cum and saliva. She lay there, unable to move, her eyes pleading for this nightmare to end. The men, however, seemed to be just getting started.
They stood around her, stroking their hard cocks, their eyes wild with lust as they discussed their next move. SinB prayed for death, for the sweet release of unconsciousness, but the gods weren't listening.
Suddenly, a massive man stepped on her swollen stomach, making her cry out in pain. He twisted his foot, and SinB's body betrayed her, spewing cum and pee, her throat and pussy leaking like broken faucets.
"Oh god– fucking hurts…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. The man just laughed, his deep voice echoing in her ears. He then grabbed her ankles, dragging her out of the barn, away from the screams of the other tortured women.
SinB's heart sank as she realized this was far from over. She was being dragged to the center of the camp, where a crowd of over fifty tribal men awaited, their bodies naked and glistening with some ritual oil.
"No… just kill me," SinB mumbled, her voice weak and defeated. She wanted this torture to end, but the men had other plans. The idol's worst fears were about to be realized as the tribe prepared for a night of depraved rituals.
SinB was done fighting, her body limp as a rag doll as the men chained her up like a sacrificial lamb in the middle of this tribal orgy. They tossed her onto the wooden platform, her stomach heaving, causing her to spew out the cum she'd swallowed earlier.
The men were quick to secure her, chaining her wrists and neck, ensuring she was their helpless plaything. Her curvy body was on full display, the torchlight highlighting every inch of her skin.
A dude with a lean build grabbed her hair, forcing her to look up at him as he poured some weird-ass green liquid down her throat. It was some tribal shit to keep her awake and ready for their sick games. SinB gagged on the bitter taste, but at this point, she was beyond caring.
The crowd went wild as the first man stepped into the spotlight, his cock so big it swung between his legs like a damn pendulum. This dude was a fuckin' beast, and he was about to tear SinB a new one.
He crouched down, his hands gripping her soft hips like they were made for him. He lifted her ass, positioning her on her knees, showcasing her plump, round cheeks. The motherfucker poured oil on her ass, his touch making her tremble.
SinB's ass was a sight to behold, and this dude knew it. He massaged the oil into her skin, his thick-ass thumb getting dangerously close to her tight hole. With a deliberate move, he pushed his thumb into her asshole, making her scream like a banshee.
"Fuck! Stop, you bastard!" SinB cursed, her body going rigid as she felt her ass being stretched beyond its limits. The dude's thumb worked her hole, making her scream and beg, her struggles against the chains useless.
The pain was off the charts, her ass on fire as he finger-fucked her, preparing her for the main event. SinB twisted and turned, her body a mess of desperation, but the dude held her hips like a vice.
Before she knew it, his thumb was out, and his massive cock was at her entrance, ready to breach her tight hole. With one brutal thrust, he impaled her ass, making her eyes roll back.
"Ahhhh, fuck! It's too big! It's splitting me— it's in my guts!" SinB screamed, her voice shaking. 
His cock was a monster, tearing through her sphincter like it was nothing. She felt it stretching her insides, poking places no cock should go.
The man held her hips, his cock buried balls-deep, and started pounding her ass like it was a punching bag. SinB's body jolted with each thrust, her pee spraying out as her bladder broken.
The crowd went nuts, their cheers filling the air as the man brutalized her ass, his cock owning her with each brutal stroke. SinB's screams were music to their ears.
The big dude was merciless, slamming his cock into SinB's ass like a jackhammer, her body taking the full force. Her legs were straight, toes pointed, as she endured the sensation of being impaled, her asshole stretched to its limits. It felt like she was trying to poop out a watermelon, but it just kept going deeper.
SinB's eyes were rolled back, her mouth hanging open, drool dripping down her chin as she groaned and whimpered. Her pale tits scraped against the rough wood with each jerking motion. 
The man grunted like a wild animal, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock even deeper. SinB's ass clenched around him, milking his cock as he pounded her hole. 
The pleasure was too much, with a few more deep thrusts, he exploded inside her, his hot cum filling her ass. He pulled out, his cock glistening with lube and cum, leaving SinB's ass gaping and sore. 
She collapsed onto the platform, her body trembling, unable to move or speak. But there was no respite for the idol.
Another tall, muscular guy stepped up, his cock already slick with oil. He knelt behind her, slapping her leaking pussy, making her jerk and whimper. SinB knew the routine by now, and she bit her lip, bracing herself for the incoming invasion.
A few men gathered around her head, their cocks in hand, stroking and getting off on the sight of her oily, abused body. One dude even stepped on her head, his foot pressing down as he admired the show.
The man behind her positioned his thick cockhead at her pussy lips, teasing her entrance. SinB's body tensed, anticipating the pain. With a slow gesture, he pushed inside, making her moan and arch her back.
"Ahh, shit, shit— My pussy, uhhh!" SinB cried out as his swollen tip popped through her tight pussy lips, stretching her beyond her limits right away. Her pussy clenched around his cock, resisting the invasion, but he kept forcing his way in, inch by inch.
The man was tenacious, his cock a battering ram, pushing past her resistant flesh. SinB screamed and shook, her body a mess of pain as he yanked her onto his cock, burying it deep in her pussy.
Her pee sprayed around his girth, an indication of the intensity of the insertion. The men laughed, their eyes wild with unsatiated lust as the man kept punching her inner walls, his cock slamming against her cervix with each thrust. 
The sudden pleasure was intense, causing SinB's body to tremble and convulse, her pussy clenching around his cock as she climaxed, her juices flowing and mixing with his. But the pleasure was short-lived as his cock kept pounding, hitting her cervix with lethal impact, causing searing pain.
"Ahhh! Fuck, stop!" SinB cried, her body arching off the platform as the man lost control, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper. Blood trickled down her thighs as her pussy was torn and ravaged, the pain almost unbearable.
The man was in a trance, his cock throbbing as he emptied his load deep inside her, breeding her pussy with his cum. He pulled out, his cock glistening with her juices and blood, leaving SinB's pussy gaping and sore.
The men weren't done with her yet. They forced her to drink more of their herbal drugs, keeping her conscious. They even splashed water on her, cleaning the blood and dirt from her body, their rough hands scrubbing her skin.
SinB's body was chained tighter, her wrists and neck secured, ensuring she couldn't escape the breeding that awaited her. More tribesmen lined up, their cocks hard and ready to take over her abused holes.
Day after day, the ritual continued, with over 60 men taking their turns with her every single day. They raped her solo, double-penetrated her, and even tried triple penetration, stretching - tearing her holes beyond their limits. SinB's screams and moans were a constant soundtrack in the camp.
The only sustenance she received was their cum, fed to her by force, enough to keep her alive and fertile for their breeding games. Her memories of her past life as an idol faded, replaced by the constant sensation of huge cocks filling her sore, aching holes.
For weeks, SinB's disappearance was headline news in South Korea. The authorities found Eunha and Umji's bodies, but SinB remained a mystery. Little did they know, she was deep in the African jungle, being bred by a tribe of men.
Weeks turned into a blur for SinB, her body now permanently marked by the tribe's ownership. Her once flat stomach now sported a slight bulge, a result of the countless times she'd been bred. 
The men had moved her to the barn, where she joined the ranks of other pregnant women, all awaiting the birth of their tribal offspring.
SinB was on all fours, a leash around her neck, her body of stretch marks and bruises. Two tribesmen stood beside her, their rough hands massaging her swollen breasts, tugging at her nipples until milk squirted into a bucket, proof of her fertility - the only reason that kept her alive.
Behind her, a group of men took turns with her ass, their cocks pounding her hole to stimulate her milk production. Her pussy, already dripping with cum from the men who had just used her, was a constant reminder of her fate.
The once vibrant K-pop idol was gone, replaced by a shell of a woman, her body a vessel for the tribe's pleasure and procreation. 
SinB's mind was a haze, her memories of her past life fading with each brutal fucking. She was now a breeding machine, her body existing solely to produce the next generation of this unknown tribe.
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mind-intheclouds342 · 14 days ago
Text
A new ladder - Reader x Curly
BEFORE I START
Yes, another story of Curly. What can i do? I love him.
THIS IS ALL INSPIRED BY THIS AWESOME ARTIST THAT I FOUND ON TIKTOK
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btw the curly of this story will kook like this so you can already imagine him.
The user is ladonb.kokosa
PLEASE GO CHECK THEIR ART ITS WONDERFUL
That being said. Lets get start with
Part 1 - Next
"Cryostasis ended"
"His vital signs are stable"
"Who could it be?"
"Disinfect the wounds"
"There are no more survivors"
"They authorized us to give him the implant."
The man could hear several voices in the distance, he saw silhouettes, shadows, he couldn't distinguish the people around him.
He felt them putting a mask on him to anesthetize him, and everything went dark again.
When he woke up, he saw a woman checking his signs, and he was astonished to recognize her despite some of her physical changes.
She was his fiancée, the woman he was supposed to marry after that trip.
Why did she look like that? She seemed older, but in his sigth, she remained beautiful.
He made some sounds to get her attention, causing her to turn and look at him. She approached and pressed something on his neck.
Curly: "Linda..."
Linda: "...No... Tell me it's not you..."
The woman immediately stepped back, covering her mouth, unable to believe what she was seeing.
She didn't recognize the man laying in that bed in front of her, and she prayed so hard that he wasn't the man she was going to marry, but the fact that he recognized her confirmed her fear.
He could understand the terror on her face, but he didn't know there was something else he didn't know.
She took a deep breath and set her fear aside, sitting next to the man.
Linda: "Curly... If it really is you..." she said, still holding out a small hope that it wasn't him, "You were cryogenically frozen for 20 years... They rescued you because the Tulpar re-entered orbit near Earth before running out of energy, they were able to detect it and bring it back without causing damage, and that's how they found you inside... You have been in the hospital for two weeks today..."
He wanted to laugh as if what he was being told was a bad joke, it couldn't have been that long, right?
But looking closely at her, the small wrinkles now on her face and the few gray hairs she had showed her that she was real.
Linda: "They didn't find any more survivors and... The same press has taken care of paying your medical expenses because they want to hear your story... You have an implant in your neck so you can speak, a voice box, you have to press it if you have difficulties but in a while you won't need to do it anymore... and they did a skin graft... Including some prosthetics..."
She carefully took the prosthetics of his arms and raised them so he could see them, Curly felt like a completely different being.
Linda: "I recommend that you ask for what you want now because... As soon as they find out you're awake... They're going to bombard you with questions and the press will come here, they won't show any mercy."
The man tried to raise the prosthesis and pressed his implant on his neck to be able to speak.
Curly: "What about us?"
Linda: "Oh Curly..." she sighed, "When you didn't come back, I thought the worst... That you were dead... I just keep going with my life... I married someone else, I have two children... There is no longer an 'us'."
Before he could say anything else, a reporter peeked in and made a fuss upon seeing him awake; the place filled up in seconds.
The woman lowered her head and left the room in search of security to throw out the press, but the harassment didn't end there.
Curly chose to give them the answers to the questions they had by scheduling a meeting at the hospital.
Thanks to this, many people started donating things to him, including money to help him reintegrate into society.
But beyond the kindness of people, no one wanted to take care of him and help him, not even the nurses, they said they couldn't spend too much time near him.
Linda took care of him during his stay in the hospital while they fixed up his house that had been left abandoned.
Linda: "I found someone who can take care of you."
She commented while pushing his wheelchair, entering his house, that it looked completely renovated.
Linda: "I don't know if you still remember that I mentioned my younger sister, (Y/n), a couple of times?"
Curly: "The one who lived with your father?"
Linda: "That's right... My mom got full custody of her after a few years, and since then she has been living with her until she became independent shortly after turning 18..." 
Curly: "She was 12 back then..."
Linda: "She recently lost her job, I thought it would be a good opportunity for her. She is very responsible, I promise."
When they arrived in the room, he could see a woman standing and looking at the paintings hanging on the walls.
He had never met his fiancée's sister, but he had heard many stories about her, about how her father unjustly gained custody by labeling their mother as crazy, and since then they had fought to get the girl back.
He had been struck by how incredibly different she was from her sister; you two didn't seem related at all.
Linda: "Good thing you were already here," she mentioned with a smile to catch your attention. 
When you turned to look at them, Curly didn't expect such seriousness from you towards your older sister. 
"...Thank you for the job opportunity, I will do my best to help you," you mentioned, looking at the man, ignoring the woman. 
Linda: "Let me show you where everything is-"
"I've already been getting familiar with the place, it's not necessary, you can go."
Linda: "At least let me tell you which medications you should-"
"You have already sent me a message with clear instructions. I can do this, Lin."
Curly: "You should be more respectful to your older sister."
Upon hearing him speak, you turned to look at him again, without any expression. 
"...Lin"
Linda: "I'll leave, there is no problem. I'm sure you've already memorized everything to the letter. If you have any problem, don't hesitate to call me."
She indicated, she didn't want to make a scene and left without even saying goodbye to either of them. 
"...So you are Curly... It's a pleasure to meet you, I hope we get along well."
You had already made a bad first impression on Curly by treating the love of his life so poorly. 
"Lin left your pill organizer with me, and gave me the schedule for them, it's time for the first pill."
You took a bottle and opened it to take a pill, causing the man to tense up a bit as he remembered moments when he was given his painkillers.
Noticing his nervousness, you tilted your head somewhat confused and went to get something to drink so he could take the pill. 
What a surprise he got when you brought him a cup of chocolate along with the pill. 
"When I was little... I didn't know how to swallow pills, I would choke, so I would bite them... My dad used to give me pills with chocolate milk so I wouldn't have a bad taste in my mouth, don't you like the taste of the pills? These can be very bitter..." 
He thought it was very kind of you to consider that, immediately regretting having judged you without knowing anything about you. 
You helped him take the pills, giving him chocolate to drink slowly, it really helped with the bitter taste. 
Maybe... you weren't so bad.
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