#bc America has problem

[vampyrluver]

Despite everything (and theres...a lot), i actually love being american. I love the culture of smiling at strangers, i love the cultural diversity, i love the willingness to be helpful, the openness we tend to exhibit, i love the american lean, i love how casual we are, i love saying "no problem!" Or "mhm!" When someone says thank you

Idk, i see a lot of europeans be like "ough americans are too happy too smiley they r too casual" nd like ........ womp womp sorry i have lust for life nd small things bring me joy why r u so mad

[inhvshedwhispers]

the thing abt amir, to me, is that hes kinda ambiguously brown—"amir" is a name popular in p much any muslim or arab community in any country... so like, when it comes down to his ethnicity, hes either arab or south asian or iranian or or or......... like. idk why de did this w him—not specifying his ethnicity when everyone else in the hex/protoframes have their ethnicities known.

[seventh-district]

“Why’s he call you Darlin’?”

on my knees begging my brain to stop trying to associate this song with Sam

[mangled-by-disuse]

talking to friends about The Horrors, specifically the Trumpian Horrors, and, like

the more I consider it, the more I think that the best thing we outside the US can do - for ourselves, for the world, and for America as well - is to just holler to the fucking rooftops that AMERICA IS NOT THE WORLD.

By which I mean:

we do not let politicians, media, and our own social circles convince us that American issues are the only issues worth discussing;

we challenge politicians, media, and our own social circles on the politics of appeasement;

we challenge ourselves on the assumption that laws passed in the US affect us directly, and we do not place ourselves in American shoes;

we focus on our own shit. Not because it's more important, but because we need to remember that it still exists. Our eyes cannot be on the USA while the legislative and political rights in our own countries are eroded from under us.

we look to the rest of the world. We get used to viewing people who don't look like us, talk like us, or even like us as an equal and crucial part of the political landscape.

WE ARE LOUD ABOUT THIS. In politics, in activism, in social contexts, in our own assessment of our own politics, we remember and hold up that America is NOT the centre of the world, and that American hegemony is NOT inevitable.

This is not because I'm trying to undermine American struggles. This is because the Trump administration is strengthened and bolstered by every other country that chooses to suck the cock of American supremacy in the desperate attempt to maintain the last remnants of the old imperial order.

It is up to everyone in the world to challenge that, and to say: yeah, this fucking sucks, and we want America to be better, but we don't need America.

There are other markets. There are other allies and potential allies. There are other global powers (Personally I think we should try to dismantle global powers entirely, but, you know, one battle at a time) and there are other political shifts.

So much of the current rightward swing in the UK, at least, is directly modelled on MAGA to the point that it's the same movement, to the point where the branches of that movement feed power and influence to one another. You know what has consistently been one of the more successful tactics? Fucking reminding people that they are not, in fact, offering solutions to the problems Britain faces, because these are American solutions and we are not America.

idk it feels stupid to say this. it feels stupid to have to point out that Not Everywhere Is America, and it feels even stupider to think that this is something that needs pointing out to the systems of power. But the more I think about it, the surer I am that one of the tentpoles of American power, and therefore of Trump's power (in the US as well as beyond it!) is just... the willingness of so much of the world to say: yeah, sure, everything is America.

WE ARE NOT AMERICA.

AMERICA DOES NOT HAVE TO CONTROL US.

idk. maybe it won't change shit. but maybe yelling that at international power structures loudly enough - making noise about issues that are not American, focusing our efforts outside America, challenging American supremacy on the global stage - is, in fact, the most useful thing we can do.

[dankovskaya]

Of course they r different genres of story centered around very different characters and relationships and situations etc but i think also that just makes it funnier

[moe-broey]

Man..

[orcelito]

I'm doing soooo amazing (weeping) like so great and cool (crying) feeling amazing (sleep deprived)

I finally got a load of dishes done though. This, at least, is worth celebrating.

[bombshellsandbluebells]

I think about this all the time other countries make some kind of joke about all American food being from other countries originally / saying we don't have any true American food

first of all, that's kind of how culture/food works and it is more obvious in the US because of how much of a melting pot we are, and it also ignores the specific contributions of immigrants creating something new from their culture and the new ingredients/tastes available to them

but also SOUL FOOD. Soul food is uniquely American!!! And ignoring soul food's role in American food culture is nothing but racist and classist

hot take incoming but: I think I figured out why people shitting on Americans as a joke bothers me from the perspective of a black guy because like, it kinda erases how the culture of America is specifically built off of black and brown people, specifically black folks, native folks, and Latino folks and to try to erase that feels weird. this country is racist and horrible in every way imaginable so I see why people especially folks outside of America hate it, but to kinda categorize all Americans as white burger eating demons feels really weird to me? again as a black dude.

[hauntingblue]

"Anne's on death's door" DO NOT SAY THAT

[cubedcoffeecake-33]

did you know there's a tag limit on posts???? i hit it so i guess that was tumblr forcing me to end my rant. yeah fuck MCU Steve leaving Bucky. Marvel did Bucky, Steve, and Steve's legacy dirty.

i can’t comprehend how steve was even able to grapple with just the IDEA of leaving bucky in endgame when in the same movie he used the phrase “bucky is alive” to literally stun his 2012 counterpart and take him down. like my guy everything you do is for bucky how the hell did we go from “whatever it takes” to bring everyone (bucky) back (NOT TO MENTION THAT IN THE POSTERS IM PRETTY SURE BUCKY WAS IN STEVES SHADOW AND WAS SUPPOSED TO SIGNIFY WHO STEVE IS DOING THE TIME HEIST FOR) and “till the end of the line” and “i’m not gonna fight you” to steve just up and leaving bucky not even a month after the final battle/bucky’s return. steve had maybe a combined 5 hours with the guy in total from civil war to endgame and then left

[grecoromanyaoi]

i think the way tiktok and tumblr (yes i am unifying these two sites together for this, for shame!) talk about autism and adhd (n honestly ocd too) as this quirky party trick has really damaged The Youths, at least in america (n they enact that damage on the rest of us, per usual)

like you guys will CONTINUE as usual to mock n harass anyone who is slightly "weird" or "offputting" bc well YOURE autistic and YOU dont do that, so it must be a them problem. well, YOU live on your own and YOU have a job and YOU have tons of friends and YOU go to uni and YOU go to the club and YOU arent weird. its not an "autism thing", this persons just weird. weird for being a picky eater, for using scripts in conversations, for avoiding crowded places n having meltdowns while in them, for living w their parents or in assisted living, for going on about their special interests, for missing social ques, for speaking "weird", for stimming, for having little or no friends, for being unemployed, for having motor issues, for being nonverbal, for not being able to handle the school/academy system, for being autistic.

THEYRE clearly just weird, THEYRE wrong for exhibiting signs and symptoms of autism. their autism is WRONG and WEIRD and OFFPUTTING. YOURE autistic and YOU dont do that, so its clearly "not about autism".

[zeptorg]

My current mood is the *dundundundun dun dun dundundundun* noises that sounds like the tekken one sound effects in the beginning of America Has A Problem by Beyonce.

[sleepy-fiction]

Taming the Giantess.

lin lie x f!giant!reader

syn: Iron Fist is put on a mission to trap a giant devil on an island. After being brutally knocked out and separated from the group, he finds the shedevil's layer and learns the reason the giant is so aggressive is because she is on her heat!! So, he takes care of her the only way he knows how; using the shards of fu xi embedded in his iron fists. He's just trying to save the world!! ....no ulterior motives at all

tgs: fisting, size kink, breeding kink, cunnilingus (f+mR), watersports, excessive bodily fluids (the reader's a giant), improper use of the Fu Xi Shards

an: to give u a quick rundown of the reader's key appearance characteristics: fem, 20.5ft tall, has unspecified horns, has a specified "devil" tail, turns a dark shade of red/pink/violet mix when frustrated. Everything else is unspecified and up to the reader's imagination!! this was definitely a fun post. Lwk the characters might be ooc bc idk marvel lore im a dc gal, but overall the dialogue should really fit!! UPDATED!! + PROOFREAD

6K WORDS

________

The Alien Giant mission was one that lasted longer than it should. With an original team of Iron Man, Black Widow, and Spiderman, these heroes faced off a giant, horned alien as tall as the eye could see. No bigger than 20 feet tall, with horns and a long tail. Stark failed to find any sort of data of where the monster could be from, so he simply began to call it an alien for the time being.

As for the team? What he could say, he had a soft spot for the kid, and he could always count on Black Widow to get a clear shot.

In the beginning, a few weeks ago, the alien fell from the sky, crash lading in the state of Arkansa. Destroying crops and attacking farmers who got too close. Stark was convinced he could handle you on his own, as up until a few weeks ago, you were easy to capture and even easier to manage. He induced the alien to sleep and transported you by your arms with a combat plane to an island not too far from the Mariana Trench. A choice solidified by the fact that you were far enough for you not to hurt anyone, or yourself, just until they figured out what to do with you.

The island was 300 miles long, with a girth of 500 miles, just enough room for you to live your life and have room as a giant, but still small enough for them to keep an eye on you. There was a vast cave beneath the mountain top that led to nowhere, but Tony was aware of that.

The issue arrived when two weeks ago, you started destroying trees by the massive. You started at the beach, working your way through to the mountains. By the time a day had passed, the island had 1/18th of all its trees disappearing.

Now that was becoming a problem.

That meant within twenty or more days, you would have eaten through the entire island. Though that was a problem on its own, on top of it, you seemed to be growing. With no data, no identification, no planet, Stark didn't know what you were capable of.

But he tried to reason with you.

He appeared to you in his super suit and jet. But you were oddly aggressive, more aggressive than before. You flung his plane out into the open sea, were somehow immune to the lethal sleeping gas, and even went as far to brutually damage his suit. And all of that was something Stark knew he could handle.

So he went on his merry way, still trying to study you from afar.

The straw that broke that camel's back was when your skin started to tint a violet-pink. Your claws had grown in sharper. You started to brave out into the ocean, and no matter how many times Stark sent you back, it seemed like each time becoming more of a brutal battle thsn the last. You fought like a wild woman. Finally, stubborn Stark threw the towel in.

He needed help.

He would've never guessed recruiting new people would lead to the start of a war.

Fast forward today, the day Iron Fist, Doctor Strange, and Captain America were recruited to the mission:

Their plane landed on a massive doxing ship. The ship was not too far out from the island, barely 60 miles away. The new recruits ate, slept, and received an extra rundown on the boat. Doctor Strange was chosen, as Stark was led to believe the "She-devil" was more related to magic and timelines than an actual planet. Captain America, to protect the otherwise vulnerable team from brute attacks. And IronFist, to team effectively with Spiderman to deal swift and damaging attacks.

It seemed easy enough.

When the hour arrived, Lin was more than ready. The jet drove out to the island, drawing in and docking in the sand, the team stood in position, following Stark to the front to disembark.

"Alright, I need everyone to listen up," Stark commands tall and proud before the team, "She awakes the second you step foot on this damn island. From there, our she-devil will bee-line directly towards us. Widow, just as the briefing discussed, I need you to find a vantage point while Captain, Spiderman, and I distract her. Then, IronFist, on my signal - and only on my signal - we need you to damage her on three core spots," he pauses, glaring dead at Lin.

"Number one, her ankles," Stark raises a finger, "Two, Her Forearm. Then on three, her shoulder. But only on my signal. The goal of the mission is to disarm her while we buy Doctor Strange enough time to locate whatever crazy world she's from... Everyone, got it?" Stark gruffs.

"Got it," the team cried.

Doctor Strange speaks up, "It might take a day or more for me to find out her origins. There are-- millions of multiverses out there."

Stark nods, "Then we fight for days. But if today goes well, we will only need to fight once. So long as we all keep our heads in the game." Stark gives the group one last look before gesturing Captain forward with him.

"Alright, let's move out," he hums, his suit springing out. Stark steps off the boat and into the water, where they trudge behind him.

Carefully, checking his team once more, Stark raises a foot, and it crashes down on the shore. Within milliseconds, a vicious roar splits the air, the shirek's ferocity to rival the wails of a bobcat. Stark bursts, "Now, Widow! Everyone else move-move-move!"

Everyone rushes to their positions in the beach. With Captain America in the far front, Black Widow sneaking off to the side lines, Spider man webbing the trees that open to the beach, and Lin, standing still right at Spiderman's side.

Lin calls to Peter in the calamity, "Dude! Do you think we'll beat her?"

"N-No! I've been fighting her for days! The only way to get rid of her is to send her back h-home," Spiderman grunts, falling back into place after webbing.

The beach shook for every step. The shards of Fu Xi buzzed in his arms, he hissed and got into stance. Out from the trees and into the sticky webs came this she devil.

You were large, as tall as a building, with lucious hair and an ethereal face. Your body was clothed in leaves and torn cloth around your chest, feet covered in cuts and scores. Horned with sharp eyes and a sharp devil's tail, talons for toes and sharp claws for fingers, you were an apex predator. The only difference was that your skin was a violent and complete pinkish violet, borderlining an angry, bitter red. Not at all what they described you as earlier.

"You didn't tell us she was red," IronFist exclaims.

"She wasn't always," Spiderman yells.

You hit the sandy shore with your fist, sending a blast through the air. Lin was quick to notice how your body seemed to buzz with an unnatural purple glow. The sight alone was enough to make his shards beam frantically.

No, you're not from this multiverse. Hell, you're not even from this dimension! The insight from his ancestors burned through him.

He barely noticed Captain and Stark begin to attack as he went to share his information. He turned his head to yell but was quickly interrupting by the earspliting sound of a light beam fired dead between your eyes. He gasped in shock, but you didn't budge, you groaned in trepidation, clawing at your forehead. His soul stirred at the sight.

This couldn't be right. No. None of this wa--

"IronFist!"

Focus, focus Lin!

Lin sprung into action, calling on his chi and thrusting a flying kick toward your right ankle. Your knee gave in, causing you to kneel, and in that spread, he rushed up your leg, bouncing off your knee to send another flying kick to your shoulder. A nasty crunch split the air as he landed shakily on your shoulder.

Then--

Wait- Shit--

He was supposed to hit your forearm second--

An abrupt and even more confusing green flare burst through the sky.

A flare?

Lin's head was buzzing, his shsrd twitchings ans burnjng through his veins. He suddenly, now so close to you, felt deathly lethargic. He's off his game, hes out of his mind. And that flare? That sea-green fla--

Suddenly, it all kicked.

The flare was his signal.

Then? Who called him.

His knee seemed to buckle, as he swayed softly, staring at the tiny figures on the beach.

"IronFist! I-- Lin! Lin look out," Peter yelled.

Oh god, it was Peter who called out to him. Peter knew his head wasn't in the battle. Peter was warning him.

Shit.

A vicious claw sprung around and backhanded him high into the air. He was shot into the wind at an alarming speed, thwarting his clothes, colors flickering in his fading vision. The beach drifting farther and farther out of his view, his whole body aflame from the stinging slap.

The wind whipped and crackled around him, his clothes frantic before, and finally, his body crunched against a tree.

Iron Fist was out cold instantly. His head meekly slumped forward to his shoulder.

Lin.

Lin.

Awake.

Awake.

He gasps, "S-Shou Lao!" Lin promptly sat upright, his mouth parched, dried iron laid waste on his tongue. Groggily, he looked around, seeing nothing but dense trees and moss, the smell of salt water high in the ear, trickling down with the hum of crickets.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he woke up, but all he knew night had befallen him. The crickets awake with their song. His head ached, his vision blurry and staunch, blood dribbling down his forehead.

He needs to return.

Lin shakenly stood, his knees threatening to buckle under weight as the memories of the battle burned in his head.

He was so off cue. His synergy far out from his body.

Wasn't his fault, your weird, magic aura messed with his timing- his shards were distressed just by looking at you.

And what if he did finish his attack? Was the purpose to break your limbs? He winced at the thought. Somehow, that felt too cruel.

Judging by what the briefing taught him, it's looking like you were sent here either by mistake or by something, and you're trying to get home. Sure, breaking your limbs would make it easier to transport you and keep you in one sitting, but. Can't send you back to wherever you're from with broken limbs, could he?

What if you're at the bottom of the food chain over there?

Or maybe he was just another idiot making up excuses for his failures.

No. If he was honest.

He knew he didn't want to fight you in the first place. Maybe Stark knew it too.

He trudged through the forest, the humidity high, the temperature hot, forcing his clothes to stick to his body. He was just walking the direction he was facing, trying not to be eaten up by the pain- or worse by the mosquitos who could smell his stench.

When he gets home, he's going to need a shower.

Probably a medic too.

He's not all too worried about running into you, as he glanced up at the mountain he was approaching. Stark told him that you disappear at night, and night would be the prime hours to either transport you or have Strange work on securing that portal. Thing is, he had no clue where you went at night, and worse, sometimes you'd use the night as an advantage to swim off to who knows where.

All of the team was led to believing that disarming you would be the best but. Fucksake, he couldn't do it. It was cruel. Then again, he had no better solution.

Maybe. Maybe he could find one.

Lin must've walked blind in the dark for miles before he stumbled across a cave opening on the base of the mountain. He had the energy to continue walking to the beach, but his arms were aching. Not just from the shards, but he used them to block most of your attack. Wither way.

A break would be nice. He deserved it, even after screwing up so badly.

AIron Fist ventures deep into the wide cave, it was dark and quiet at first. But then, he starts to hear a faint sound.

"Aa.... Ggr... Ff...."

He squints, the shards surging through him. There's danger a foot.

He briskly holds his fists up, staying in close to the wall to be less noticeable. And as he creeps in closer, a warm light flickers in from the depths of the cave.

The sounds ebb louder, "Aaah! Mm...h! Oo... ..Ff," clearer too. It's the she-devil's voice, and it's groaning out. He squints harder. Just behind a barrel of rocks was the source of the light and sound.

He uses the rock's cover to an advantage and sneaks in closer, resting against them..

Not to be crude, but those groans sort of sounded like...

Ironfist peaks over the rocks, and his eyes fail him at the sight. There in the cave lies the She-Devil, lying naked next to a warm fire. The cave opens up grand in here, enough to be a house sized for a 20.5ft woman. But that's not at all what he's staring at. He's staring at you, sanding down trees with your teeth and teetering them around your dribbling vagina. God, heat rushes straight to his pants.

Your pussy was giant and soaking, your skin hot and pink, even more so than before. It was a vulgar and agitated color, the color of frustration. And it made your body seem all the more tantalizing to him. It's was primal, the sight of your sex, as it called to his primitive apeish roots, lost between humanity's years of evolution. God, it called to him to hear your bellowing trills and moans. Called to a disgusting, feral, primal part of him he wasn't aware of.

He felt so lethargic again.

The shards oddly didn't buzz or flicker, and somehow, he almost forgot that he was Lin Lie.

Oh my god.

It finally clicked again for him. You were acting like this because you were--

Lin gasps, "Sexually frustrated," the words slip out from his mouth before he can register it.

You immediately perk up, a vicious growl bursting from your lips as you weakly toss your dangerous, makeshift dildo at the rocks before Lin. He steps back. The rocks clamor and knock down, rolling down the cave and towards you, revealing him standing there.

You narrow deadly eyes on him, baring your sharp canines with a growl. Lin freezes, aderaline perverse through his brain. He brungs up his fists, awaiting an attack. Instead, you do nothing but glare. You're too weak to chase him away, resting your sweaty, tired head against the wall, your sputtering pussy clenching on nothing.

Ironfist raises his tired arms, "Hey... Hey girl... I'm not gonna hurt you, 'kay?" His voice is slow and soft, his palms faced to show he's no threat. He's even crouched a little, trying to make himself as small as possible. Something that once again proved how evolution's natural survival instinct flowed through him.

You still growled, recognizing the body language, but not giving up your snarl. Your walls clench up on nothing, still reminding you of your vulnerable problem. You have no time to fight, youre to weak.

It hurts so bad.

You know you need a mate, and you need one soon.

You suddenly whimper, your claws grinding up chunks of rock and clenchjng your eyes tight close. Your brain thought of one thing and one thing alone. Helplessly, you chose to ignore the little creature. You could do nothing but try to reach for another tree to grind down. But surely, that would be more painful than it would be pleasurable.

"I'm," once again, he speaks before thinking, "I'm gonna get close to you, if that's okay." And the shard buzz in annoyance at the idea. He watches as you continue to ignore him, and a part of him can only wince at the sight. He cooes sweetly at you, "You poor thing, you're just in pain, huh? Having to fight these tiny jackasses all day... Jus' need a break, huh 'gal?"

Despite not knowing the language, you look up at him, a softer gaze brimming from you. Iron fist slinks down the same slope the tree and rocks fell down before reaching the flat bottom of the cave. It's here in thr down draft that he can smell just how brutually wet you are. The smell is strong and acidic, so primal and intoxicating. It's so strong that his dick grows impossible hard off it alone, precum dribbling from his head. Fuck, his cock was aching so bad, it took everything in him to not squeeze it. Or worse, drop to the floor and jack off like a maniac.

Yet he ventures into your warm, dangerous den, eyeing the various claw marks that etch the walls. He's ashamed of the excitement that brews at the sight. All of his body, every atom, from the root of his DNA, was begging to fuck-fuck- fuck. This was more than just him and you. This was cardinal.

Soon enough he's mere standing feet away from your pussy, his eyes glued to the gorgeous sight. It was a breathtaking. Your vulva was much bigger than his entire head, glistening in the fire light like a delicious, sloppy snack. His knows dick would feel like nothing to you, despite being fat, burly, and 8 inches long.

No, you need something more. His hand reached to touch your thigh, you chitter strangely, and move your legs further out of the way for him. He notices but can still sense your unease. Nevertheless, he didn't know how to help. That's when his shards buzz strangely, causing him to wince and stare at his arms. They stop once he sees it.

What? The fuck?

"Shao Lao... My ancestors... You all are not saying," he stutters. He's unsure if he should be embarrassed or confused. He stares dead at his thick, muscular arms, unsure, before flickering up at you. You're still weaning and whimpering. It's more painful than it is anything else.

You shouldn't be using a tree, your poor girl, he's sure his arms would be a great help.

The shards warp and shake. He only hisses in rebuttal. Fuck. Hell no. This was so wrong on so-so-so many levels. You were intoxicating him, overriding his logical senses since the very beginning. Everything was leading towards him letting go into his urges.

You weren't even figuratively intoxicating him either. Your scent was a natural aphrodisiac, made to numb the minds of your mates. It's just that when you're 3 times smaller than this devil, it's more intense to fight against. That's not to say that your chemical processes are overriding the whims of fate either.

Fuck.

Not that he wanted to fuck you. It'a just the sight of you from afar got him riled. He just needed to let go.

You were laying on your left side, your face pressed against the wall as your right arm limply hugged your ribcage. Your right leg rested on your left, knees pulled up closer to your chest with your legs sticking to the left. Out of the way of your pussy. It was the perfect set up to comfortably, flash all of yourself to the strange tiny being.

Truth be told, you were sent to this random world after a buzzing, purple object lifted and glitched in front of you. Back home, you were a warrior, fighting for money in your dimension's verison of a grand colesium. Then, in one second, you were in a strange green and blue world with angry tiny people. Worse of all, your heat was rapidly approaching, and you were nowhere near one of your many mates. You'd call for them in the blue sky yet didn't get any answer. You'd try to courage the blue waters, but a little flying thing would stop you every time.

You were scared, frustrated, and angry. So damn tired every day, forced to protect what little land you had from those tiny beings, yet still forced to escape all at once. But here you were, watching a green little being step close. You remember it well by its strong odor alone.

It hurt you.

You were scared.

But now it's, touching you. Soft and slow into the back of your thigh. You hiss at first, but you hear the voice again, "Hey, hey... Sweet girl. You're okay... You're okay," he whispers. Although you can't understand this language. You can't help but note how soft he sounded, how affectionate, the way caressed you.

You whimper and trill again, your people's way of communicating stress. His warm, tiny claw continues in its monotomus motion. It's soothing. So you trill again, this one sounding more of a plea.

Ironfist places raises his other hand, standing on his tippy toes to make sure you can see it. Your eyes follow it as it dips into your blind spot, yout hips; then you feel the softest and quickest touch against your clitrous.

On your heat, every sensation feels heightened. You mewl and trill, your tail whipping excitedly.

The little creature wants to become a mate now? Why? Has it changed its mind? Ah, it was your body scent, wasn't it? You've somehow convinced your attacker to surrender.

As much as you wanted to dwell on his motive, you could feel your body ache painfully, causing you claws to bear into the stone. You trill out again, this time it's loud and annoyance, filled with a whiney-bratty pleas. Your tail raises and thwarts against the stone floor. You don't care less about what he wants. The quicker you can solve this rut, the more strength you'll have later to beat the little thing into a pulp.

Lin giggles, softly laying both hands on your giant clit. It was plump and meaty to the touch. Soft and reqarding, he wanted to squish it. It was aa if it were a large, doughy treat, it made him salivate.

The shards, on the other hand, buzzed and whipped, but he braved it. "No matter the dimension, women are similar... You're a bratty type, aren't you, she-devil," He's mostly talking to himself, regardless, he talks loud enough for you to hear. He softly squeezes the large bud in both hands, feeling you arch down into him. He dips his hand in your giant slick, and it globs together on his hands. He then layers it heavily on your clit, grabbing hold of it on side and massaging it in unison.

Deliciously, you release the moans he heard before, "Oouh... Aahhf, mmh..."

His eyes seem to lid in relaxation, breath no longer caught. He hushes, "Do you like this, huh, girl?" He smiles softly. "Fuck I'm losing my mind," he grunts. Without a second thought, he abruptly buries his face against the giant clit. His mouth wasn't big enough for all of it, so he slurped a portion in his hot mouth, still rhythmically massaging the rest together. He squished it, increasing the friction and the vigor by which his tongue prodded and flickered your huge bean.

He gets in close. Feeling your heat burn against him, he ruts against your labia, your juices soaking his chest and body fast. The feeling seemed to make his skin numb, his body drooping and relaxed, his swelling and pain seemed to dip away. As your moans spiked high, mixed with song-like trills, he knew you were cumming soon.

He muffled out with a mouth full of pussy, "C-Cumff Cummff. Cum."

You arched down into him and orgasmed, your very first since your heat started. God, the sensation was deathly, spiking through the tips of your toes and running up your spine. Relief fled your brain for the first time in a while, chemical fires sparking grievous serotonin and dopamine.

The stimulation of tiny hands massaging and rotating you in unison, with a strange, tinier tongue suckling and slurping up the rest, was an undesirable experience. It made your talons curl up as you rode your high.

Lin pulls out from you with a gasp for air, trying to wipe off as much of your juices from drowning and making his body sticky. He looks up and notices you're still a blood angry pink. Only a few shades lighter shade than before.

"Not enough, hm," he asks.

He watches as you raise your giant leg and carefully moves it over head. You drop it next to him; a wider part of him scared you were going to crush his 5"9 ass. But instead, you now laid on your back and head propped up against the wall to get a good view of him, with both your legs spreading with him in the middle.

Once again, the tiny little thing was just staring blankly at you.

You whined, the sound accompanied by a needy, sexy trill. As if you were complaining and ending it off with a sultry flare.

Charmed, Lin laughs, "Mmh, alright, hold on."

You watch as the weird green creature removes its yellow stripes from his arms, revealing a bruised and we'll together scarred peach colored arm. Was those stripes clothing apparel? He seems to replicate the same for the other arm. His fists buzzed green, your eyes hone in on it.

Lin's shards were burning in his body, a useless forewarn as he succumbed to his flesh. The pain was intense, but he had a theory. Iron fist stuck four fingers into you, and you mewl, feeling them each squirm and feel you about.

Feeling you was pure escasty. Your walls were squishy, hot, moist, and wet. The soft feeling of your delicate walls treading against his fingertips was like carressing expensive velvet. Best part of it all, knowing this was a vagina made him bust in his pants. "Oohh, haa- she-devil," he mitters under his breath.

That's not counting the smell of you and how, as he pulled his fingers out, he found his fingers were coated in mounds of white cum.

His theory proved right. Your numbing made him lose some sensation in his fingers. Would it be enough to stop the ache of the shards?

Regardless, you seemed to really enjoy it. This time, as he sinks his whole fist into your warmth, he watches your face. Or at least as much as he can from up your vulva, through your large round thighs to each side of him, up your lucious belly, next the delicious mounds of your breast, and then to your face.

You were a gorgeous alien.

Lin's hips buck against nothing.

Your jaw falls in surprise at the feeling of his tiny arm inside of you. The creature thrust his arm deeper, and you pulsate against him. You can feel your walls suck up his forearm, his arm was wider at the base due to his fat muscles.

Your heat was so strong from all the factors against you, as if pure bliss feel upon you. You were embarrassingly defenseless, spread open by a creature barely the size of your leg. Letting such a creature, also your stranger and adversary, crack you open like a clam made it all the more wrong. And all the more pleasurable.

Wanton moans drifted off you as Lin began to thrust his whole forearm in you, his tight muscles working to pump you hard, but slow enough for you to keep the steady pace. He can only hear your loud trills reflecting off the cave walls. He delighted drinking up the pretty sound.

"Yeah? Feel good, feel good," he can't help but ask you so many times. Afterall, he doesn't even know what you're saying, let alone feeling, he can't speak whatever it is you're cawing about, but above all. He wants to give you what you want.

It's through this that he slides in his other arm, resting them thumb against thumb, a form he usually uses his fists to punch with. You walls flutter and pulsate around the newest addition, clenching hard, restricting against his skin, sucking him in with your recoil. He can only gasp as you end up sucking his whole body flush against your vulva.

He pulls away.

Perverse tempatous flood his mind.

Lin shamelessly calls on his chi to burst into you, fucking his fists into your body as if he were vigorously rowing a boat. His large muscular arms give you variations in shape for your sensitive walls to stimulate itself on. Not to mention, with his thrusts, as he pulled out, his arms separated, stretching you impossibly wide before slamming in impossibly deep. You swore, if he just extended his fingers out, he'd be just tickling your cervix.

"Aahtt! Ooh! Mmh," you mewled and trilled, your knees jolting up, legs twitching and claws reaching for purchase in the stone to each side of you. You watch the sight of the little creature's black head dipping closer and further from you, matching his intense rhythm.

And though he's unable to go particularly fast, it's enough to draw you to your second orgasm.

He only notices when you scream, and a strong stream of fluids burst against his hands, forcing his fists out of you, your walls barely clinging on to his wrists to keep them inside.

He slips out, laying an affectionate kiss on your sloppy, slick labia. You're a soft violet pink now. He hums in satisfaction. "Wanna' see a trick, sweetheart," he asks.

In your eyes, you watch as the little creature suddenly cries out, a burst of a dangerous green aura overtaking him. You flinch in a mixture of fear and anticipation. He pulls one fist out of you, turning to the side a bit and taking a stance. Suddenly, he frantically slams the single arm deep into your walls, his fists bumping around at a different target each time. You cry out loud, your moans boarding wails. He's at a break-neck speed, a speed brisk enough to make you lose your breath, lose your eyes behind clouds, to find yourself uncontrollably dizzy.

Finally, his fists curves up against your bladder, dealing a hard thrust against it, and you squirt dewlets into the air because of it. They barely miss him, but he doesn't care in the midst of calamity.

"Found it," he grins. Pleasuring women was his pride and joy, especially one whose juices made him not be able to feel the shards burn within him.

It's a feeling he almost forgot.

Fuck, it made him ridiculously horny.

He's relentless and precise, eat blow a vigorous compilation of unbreakable, nimble, and sharp thrusts. A speed you're sure not even one of your partners could top. Your orgasm was forced upon you, squirting out and cumming all at the same time. He doesnt stay in you for long after it, pulling his fist out immediately. You watch the little creature duck out of your stream, hiding and crouching by your left inner thigh to avoid the flow.

"Holy hell," he cursed. Your piss was beginning to puddle by his feet.

Quickly deciding the best way to avoid it all was to jump up onto your shivering thigh. It's then he finally looks up at you, the normal color that you were described as, while you convulsed and twitched. He grins as your eyes roll back as you rode out your high. "Oh yeah," he mutters, grabbing himself through his soaked pants. Mostly soaked from your juices, but a lot of it also being from the amount he came himself.

When you come to, drowning in pants, you look at him. Watching the yellow striped, white eyed, green, peach-striped creature flash a smile. Something you weren't aware that they could also do. You reach with your claws and stroke his black hair, your touch gentle.

You trill gratefully.

"Its no big deal, no problem. Just saving the world, one day at a time," he rests his hands on your claw. "Listen, devil. I kinda need you to be nice for a while. My team is--" but before he could finish his sentence, you pick him up by his green apparel, sitting up as you move farther from the warm fire. He squeaks, but soon he's found you've relocated to a new wall on the cave. You were starting to sweat.

You lean back and spread your legs, dropping him down on his belly. He bounces on the softness, falling on his butt. "Whoa, there. Heads up would be nice," he mutters. You reach, cupping his back with your right hand, and tearing off his apparel with his left. The little creature yelps, and you pause only to make sure it wasn't actually his skin. No blood oozes from him, so you remove his pants as well and simply scratch off the little miniature piece he had beneath it.

You watch as a dick springs out from between the creatures leg. You compare it to your smallest claw. You were mistaken. It wasn't that small. Instead, he was roughly about the length of your middle claw and as thick as your thumb. Regardless, it too was red and twitching. Was he in heat as well, but the little creatures show it differently?

You nodded. You see. They're more private about it. They hide it behind colorful garments.

You smile, picking him up and dropping him back between your legs. You give him a guide and push him flat against your vulva before resting your arms back to your sides.

"Want me inside," he asks, looking up at you.

He should be caring about his super suit, but honestly, he was aching so much already so...

You trill playfully. So Ironfist takes it as a yes. He lines up against you, feeling your giant clit against his chest, it was so soft and bouncy, he swore he could eat it for days. Fuck, the thought made him twitch about your entrance. He needs to feel your heat, now.

Lin thrusts into you, and you hum in delight. Lin stares up at your face as he drags himself in and out, the height difference putting him in an awkward position, yet still he handles it, thrusting at a constant, simple pace. He soaks in the delectable feeling of your hot slick and hotter walls burning against his (by your definition) tiny cock. All eight inches of him merely in the shallow end of your warmth. Your gummy walls were sucking him in so deeply, the wettest of it making a thick sloppy sound, forcing juices to cover up his chest and ooze down his bare legs.

His hands grip chunks of your pubes, using it for purchase as he begins to speed up. Now that he's knows he's fully taken care of you, all in his brain that is left is "fuckfuckfuckfuckcum," as fast as he can. He's breathless by his speed, legs buckling, his tiredness finally catching up to his numbed-out body. His eyelids are falling against his eyes, his cheek sloppily resting in your bed of hair as he fucks himself. To you, it feels like a speedy finger. To him, this sensation, this experience will be completely irreplaceable for the rest of his life.

He's sputtering out as he explodes inside you, shooting out at least five ropes into your sweetness, sagging against you as if his soul is sucked out from his body.

He pants against your vulva and weakly raises his head, "Wuh-- We're finished, right?"

You pick him up again, dropping him on your sternum, and he lands on his feet again, leaning forward to hold your collarbone. His eyes flicker to your breasts, his dick standing right up. "Eeh... One last- tuh... One last round," Lin smiles lazily.

He hops onto your breast, wrapping his arms around it and giving it a squish. You trill and yelp in confusion, your head drooping in dazed surprise. What's gotten into the little man? He rubs his cheeks against your soft flesh, giggling like a school girl as he uses almost his whole body to fondle you. He finally dips down, sucking your giant nipple into his mouth.

You cry, holding the little creature's back so it won't fall. It licks and slurps your nipple until it's hard, even softly nibbling and drawing his teeth on the side of it. Aah, it wants to mate more. You didn't want any more stimulation. You wrap your hand around his wrist, pulling him back, but his suction keeps his lips to your nipple. He mumbles something, but you whine and trill, and regrettably, he releases your nipple with a pop.

"Not everyday you get to fondle some giant b--" but before he could finish his sentence, you place him on your face. His hands awkwardly grab secure chunks of your hair, feeling his hard on against the softness of your upper lips. He stares now at the wall and the top of your head, his feet dangling off your chin.

You draw out your tongue, the heat making him fire a shot of precum into your open mouth. He shakes and shivers. Part of it being from sex the other part from the primal fear of being eaten. It makes him melt and buck his hips into your open mouth. You wrap your giant lips around his dick, your hot tongue flying up and greeting his cock. He moans out in ecstasy, clenching his eyes tight to fight an early send off.

He's has to savor this for as long as he can.

Your large, hot muscle licks him, your mouth adding a soft suction. She knows he's tight and wants to be gentle. But for him, none of it is gentle or soft. Your suction is perfectly powerful, as if he were in a cock milking vat, his toes crunch up in bliss. His eyes roll to the back of his head. He's cumming, oh no he's cumming.

You swipe your tongue around him, swirling and twirling, back and forth and back and forth again. His grip on your hair grows deathly tight. "Mmuh... Whoaa... Aah... Uhhn," he's babbling nonsense, bucking and twitching, his cock pulsating as he holds back. But eventually, to no avail, sprays your pretty mouth with two thick, creamy ropes of cum; all before he blanks out once, and then twice.

He's running empty now, his balls no longer thick and bothered, but tranquil.

You grab him again, watching him lay limpy in your hold. You trill and giggle delightfully, leaning to caress his little face with your nose. Your trill not only welcomes him as your new mate (for life), but also sends him off to sleep, as you lay him on your chest.

Maybe these creatures weren't so bad afterall.

---

A week had passed before anyone had seen any sight of Lin, and it was tearing Stark out from the inside. Peter tried his best to cheer him up, noting that his pal was capable and wouldn't die like this, let alone be subdued by the She-Devil. But still, it worried him. Doctor Strange ended up finding out that she was an inter-dimensional being from a parallel world to Earth. Unfortunately, this was learned the very next day after they lost Lin, and somehow, it made the lost feel worse.

Still, the team continued with the mission, trying to lead the devil out anyway that they could. For some reason, you didn't come out. Not even when they stepped on your terrain or sent loud blasts and sirens into the day sky. It was like she wasn't even there at all. As if you couldn't hear them at all.

As the sun began to set, Stark sat next to Black Widow and Dr Strange on the cargo ship, staring off at the island in the distance as the shared a nice cup of tea (more so coffee for stark). He drummed his fingers across the desk, nodding along to the conversation.

"The next action plan is to comb through that forest. Get the kid, find the devil. I dont care if we have to trap her, we need this case over with. Before she grows or worse," he pauses, staring at the black bitter substance in his cup.

"Worse, she does ze' unexpected," Widow suddenly stands, drawing out her scope.

Just then, Peter comes barreling down the board, pointing at the island. "Guys look, there's movement," he calls.

Black Widow nods, "I've got eyes on the devil," all rise abruptly at her statement. "She'll be at the shore in approximately five minutes."

Captain rushes in after Peter, catching the final glimpse of the conversation. "We'll need to hurry."

"Alright, team, board the boat. Strange, get that portal ready."

They board the sailboat, racing down to the shore. By the time they made it there, the she-devil was just stepping out of the trees.

"Alright widow, get a good shot. We need to do the same routine as last time, but Peter we'll need your webs in--"

"Look," Widow cries, abandoning her sniper to point at you.

Not only had you turned back to a normal color, but in your hands rested Iron Fist, who excitedly waved to the team. They all gasped, and you stepped closer.

"Lin!" Peter shouted, rushing off the boat, trudging through the water. The others followed in pursuit, gathering around as you lowered him into the sand.

But oddly, most of Lin's outfit was tattered. His chest was bare, and he held up his pants with his hands. And as they all got close to check him out, there was this strong, sultry, strench that was caked on him. As if he were soaked in it.

The smell was so acidic, so familiar to most of the team, but they couldn't quite--

Black Widow suddenly gasps, "You smell like f'acking kiska," she hisses, a flush over taking her face as she steps back.

Stark gasps, snapping his finger, his voice slightly distorted from his suit, "Ah, that's what the smell is!"

Captain turns to Peter, "What's 'kiska'?"

Peter whispers, "It's uh p-pussy in Russian."

Captain gasps in shock, slowly putting the pieces together as he stared at Lin. "The torn clothes, the disappearance for a week, t-the smell," he mutters.

Lin's face is a humiliating red. Most of his torn shirt used to pitifully cover what little of him that he could come from his team.

"Oh Godt', she did it with you? Why you," Widow eye's scale up the she devil's body.

"I don't wanna' think about Lin doing any of that," Peter quirks.

Strange scoffs, "Hello? Are we stupid? The most important part of this issue is that a human from our species, co-mingled--"

Lin stammers, "I w-wouldnt say comingle it's a weird word--"

"--With an inter-dimensional devil. That's the most important part," Dr Strange finishes.

"But she's so tall," Widow hums, covering her mouth as she stared only at you. "I mean, I v'would get if it v'ere Kaptain," she mumbles.

"M-Me?" He sputters.

"Cause, you're a big man. He's puny," she said.

Captain speaks, "Don't bring me into this!"

"Let's just- Please let's forget about it and send, (y/n) home," Lin drops his head in humilation. "A-And agree to never mention this to anyone."

"Agreed," the team cried unison.

Captain squeaks, "(Y/n)?"

The doctor opened up a portal for you, as electric sparks flung into a circle right beside you. You flinched away from it at first, but once you saw your dimension's lush lavender fields and soft sea green sky's, you lit up joyfully. A sweet trill brimmed you.

The creatures were just trying to send you home? Is that what they've wanted all this time? Your eyes quirked as you looked at them each, your tail swooshing in affection. You'll be sure to remember them well.

As for your mate, you squatted onto his level, taking your index claw and soft caressing under his chin, to the side of his face, then to ruffle his hair. "Ready to go home, sweetheart," he smiles, eyes lost in a dreary affection. Your week of endless fucking was a great bonding experience. He'd be lying if he didn't say he'd love to see you again after this.

Explore your planet. Learn more about you.

Speak your language.

You scoop him up in your hands one last time, he stands on your palms and bows his head, you do the same and brush your horn against his head; a custom Lin learned as an intimate gesture of connection. You placed him down, giving him one final look before stepping in, and the fire sparkled behind you.

Yet you didn't look away from him.

You had many mates, but none as exciting as him.

Lin stood in a daze for a moment before rushing off with everyone else to the sailboat.

"Lin, to the back, please. We don't want your smell blowing on us," Stark commands.

"Y-Yes sir," he sighs defeatedly.

Right as he sits, he watches Widow approach him. "V'ell," she crosses her arms as the boat starts.

Peter inches in close to the conversation.

Lin asks, "Well?"

"H'kow did you do it?"

Oh god.

[snekdood]

'oh but refined sugar is bad for you' newsflash babey, all sugar is bad for you, even if its in some fancy shmancy gel-like form and comes with "benefits". theres still lots of sugar in there. the benefits dont just cancel out the sugars

[endearing-dalliance]

the way the Arcane team romanticize the undercity disgusts me

Especially in the new art book, they talk about how Zaun and Piltover really aren’t as different as they first seem, as they are both heavily invested in technology. Zaun is a bastion of flamboyant body modification and innovative technology. They describe it as a refuge for outcasts who are looking for a home, where people are free from Piltover’s rigid rules and politics. A communal place with a thrilling sense that anything is possible. The Firelights are described as a group uses the freedom granted by Piltover not caring about them to find beauty and innovation. People are particularly interested in recycling technology and resources because "nothing is precious and everything can always be made better". Bc obviously that's why poor people fix stuff. They are definitely able to easily replace stuff at any time, but they want to strive for perfection...

In the same breath, they describe Zaun as being oppressed, crushed by Piltover, addicted to Shimmer, having “some issues with the mob”, dangerous, volatile. They talk about how if it was better, people like Jinx and Ekko could use their skills for good. This is the same place that’s a refuge for innovative, flamboyantly augmented outcasts to be able to make wonderful technology?

Notable mention: "we had to design a prison, and that was tricky because Piltover is supposed to be a city of progress - do they really put people in prisons? Maybe only people from the Undercity, and maybe they put them really far away" like seriously does nobody realize how fucked up that is? Your issue with it is the difficulty in designing the prison?

Like have any of these people ever actually met someone who lives in an irl place like Zaun? Heard of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs? Opened any book or video on heavily polluted urban areas?

On top of that, the undercity is filled with negative stereotypes. Many of the characters are “bad” in some way, whether that be missing body parts, mentally damaged, filthy, an addict. Their food is tentacles, a drooling animal head, and a dish that looks very much like slugs in mud sauce (vs Piltover’s “normal” sandwich). Many of the people are all dressed punk/goth/sexy and look “dangerous”. This season, I expected them to address those stereotypes and show how Zaun has equal value to Piltover. That those differences don’t make people hateable or disgusting or deserving of their misery. Instead, we got “actions have consequences” theme and a dying man who suffered from chronic pain and mobility issues his entire life being told that his imperfections make him beautiful. (She-Ra did that line already and did it much better.) Because using tech/magic to fix his leg and spine strip him of his humanity.

The team have said they were specifically inspired by the current political climate in the US, specifically the two-party system within one nation divided and unable to reason with each other. But that is an entirely different and incompatible concept. Zaun literally doesn’t get a vote, and that kind of lack of political representation is literally why America rebelled against England. Its not as simple as them just talking it out or getting a single vote. And for me it explains why the conflict fizzled out in season 2 and felt so unresolved. I was expecting independence, which is the only solution to colonial oppression, but the creators gave us a fix for the political party problem they thought they were showing. We only got to see the Piltie’s viewpoint of Zaun, and it was unflattering specifically in the ways that are in real life associated classism, body shaming, and cultural shaming. They were never redeemed or validated, and almost everyone repeatedly proved the Pilties were right about them all along. In season 2, all the bad guys were Zaunites (Jinx, Viktor, Skye, Vanwick, Singed kind of) aided by a foreign power also trying to use them, and the solution was for them not to be part of their world anymore. They were too broken, too evil, too violent to remain. And for the rest, their only use was to die protecting the Pilties from one of their own people (whose autonomy wasn't even respected by his own partner and became his own worst nightmare). Instead of it being this glorious, Marvelesque fight where everyone bands together against one common enemy, it’s just another situation in which they are brutally exploited.

And I would genuinely be OK with all of this as some sort of tragic story that ended terribly for everyone and there was no real solution or progress, just more bloodshed. A tale of caution.

But the creators have been very clear that they feel that this is an appropriate ending to the story and the individual characters’ stories. Specifically, they are pushing this idea that the finale was to show the characters facing the consequences of their actions. But the characters themselves aren’t the problem, it’s the society that they are living in that basically corrupted everything it touched. Mel and the council manipulated and pressured Jayce and Viktor into making weapons instead of technology that was designed to help people, while also ignoring Viktor’s steadily worsening health problems that *they caused*. Vi and Jinx were repeatedly traumatized, orphaned, and weaponized. Cait literally got away with being a dictator, but even she was manipulated by someone who was only ever able to establish power by taking advantage of the situation. Singed (OG Piltie) literally committed war crimes and got everything he wanted. And according to the creators, everyone got what they deserved. Piltover received no punishment or retribution for their oppression. The undercity got no apology or redemption/validation. Piltover got no significant consequences. They’re still in power, still rich, still have Hextech, still oppressing the undercity. And I guess that's what they deserve.

What a load of absolute horseshit. I had a lot of expectations for season 2, but "the arcane team are actually Pilties in the worst way possible" was absolutely not one of them. I'm genuinely devastated.